Thou art amid the deathless, I still here, Amid things mortal, in a land of graves, A land o'er which the heavy-beating waves Of changing time move on, a land where raves The storm, which whoso braves Must have his anchor fixed Firmly within the vail--; So let my anchor be; Such be my consolation and my hope! Thou art amid the sorrowless, I here Amid the sorrowing: and yet not long Shall I remain 'mid sin, and fear, and wrong: Soon shall I join you in your sinless song. Thy day has come, not gone, Thy sun has risen, not set, Thy life is now beyond The reach of death or change; Not ended, but begun, Such shall our life be soon. And then,--the meeting-day, How full of light and joy! All fear of change cast out, All shadows passed away, The union sealed forever Between us and our Lord. --_Horatius Bonar._ THE LENT JEWELS. In schools of wisdom all the day was spent: His steps at eve the Rabbi homeward bent, With homeward thoughts, which dwelt upon the wife And two fair children, who consoled his life. She meeting at the threshold led him in, And with these words preventing, did begin:-- "Ever rejoicing at your wished return, Yet am I most so now: for since this morn I have been much perplexed and sorely tried Upon one point which you shall now decide. Some years ago, a friend into my care Some jewels gave--rich, precious gems they were; But having given them in my charge, this friend Did afterward nor come for them, nor send, But left them in my keeping for so long, That now it almost seems to me, a wrong That he should suddenly arrive to-day, To take those jewels, which he left, away. What think you? Shall I freely yield them back, And with no murmuring?--so henceforth to lack Those gems myself, which I had learned to see Almost as mine forever, mine in fee." "What question can be here? Your own true heart Must needs advise you of the only part: That may be claimed again which was but lent, And should be yielded with no discontent. Nor surely can we find herein a wrong That it was left us to enjoy it long." "Good is the word," she answered; "may we now And evermore that it is good allow!" And, rising, to an inner chamber led, And there she showed him, stretched upon one bed, Two children pale: and he the jewels knew, Which God had lent him, and resumed anew. --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ ON THE DEATH OF A MISSIONARY. How beautiful it is for man to die Upon the walls of Zion! to be call'd, Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, To put his armor off, and rest--in heaven!