Death wounds to cure; we fall, we rise, we By which deceit doth mask in visor fair,
reign!

Spring from our fetters, fasten in the skies.
Death gives us more than was in Eden lost!
This king of terrors is the prince of peace.
YOUNG.

Of death and judgment, heaven and hell,
Who oft do think, must needs die well.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

Go and dig my grave to-day!
Homeward doth my journey tend,
And I lay my staff away

Here where all things earthly end,
And I lay my weary head

In the only painless bed.
Weep not, my Redeemer lives;

Heavenward springing from the dust,
Clear-eyed Hope her comfort gives;
Faith, Heaven's champion, bids us trust;
Love eternal whispers nigh,

"Child of God, fear not to die!"

From the German of E. M. ARNDT.

'Tis a blessing to live, but a greater to die;

And cast her colors dyèd deep in grain,

To seem like truth, whose shape she well can
feign,

And fitting gestures to her purpose frame,
The guiltless man with guile to entertain?
SPENSER.

And the best of the world, is its path to the That love a lie, where truth would pay as sky.

MITCHELL.

[See also THE DEAD-THE GRAVE.]

well,

As if, to them, vice shone her own reward.

YOUNG.

Deceit is the false road to happiness;
And all the joys we travel through to vice,
Like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch

them.

Through these bright orbs' dark centers darts O mighty Spirit! Source whence all things

a ray!

Of nature universal threads the whole!
And hangs creation, like a precious gem,
Though little, on the footstool of his throne.

YOUNG.

Stupendous Architect! thou, thou art all!
My soul flies up and down in thoughts
thee,

And finds herself but at the center still!
"I AM," thy name! existence all thine own!
Creation's nothing; flattered much, if styled,
"The thin and fleeting atmosphere of God."
YOUNG.

of

Hail, Source of being! Universal Soul
Of heaven and earth! Essential Presence,

hail!

sprung!

O glorious Majesty of perfect Light!
Hath ever worthy praise to thee been sung,

Or mortal heart endured to meet thy sight?

If they who sin have never known
Must vail their faces at thy throne,

O how shall I, who am but sin and dust,
Approach untrembling to the Pure and Just?
From the German of RAMBACH.

O God! thou bottomless abyss!
Thee to perfection who can know?
O height immense! what words suffice
Thy countless attributes to show?
Eternity thy fountain was,

Which, like thee, no beginning knew;
Thou wast ere Time began its race,

Ere glowed with stars th' ethereal blue.

To thee I bend the knee; to thee my Greatness unspeakable is thine;

thoughts

Continual climb, who with a master hand,
Hast the great whole into perfection touched.
THOMSON.

Greatness whose undiminished ray,
When short-lived worlds are lost, shall shine
When earth and heaven are fled away.

JOHN WESLEY.

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Whom none can comprehend and none ex- Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

Being whom we call God, and know no more! The means that Heaven yields must be em