That clime is not this dull clime of ours; All, is brightness there; A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, And a far milder air. No calm below is like that calm above. No region here is like that realm of love; Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light, Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. That sky is not like this sad sky of ours, Tinged with earth's change and care; No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers,-- No broken sunshine there! One everlasting stretch of azure pours Its stainless splendor o'er these sinless shores; For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray, There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day. Those dwellers there are not like these of earth, No mortal stain they bear; And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, Whence, and how came they there? Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame, Through tribulation they to glory came; Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load, Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God. Those robes of theirs are not for these below; No angel's half so bright! Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow? Whence came that radiant white? Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, Fair as the light those robes of theirs became, And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, They wander where the freshest pastures lie, Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky! --_Horatius Bonar._ Abide with me! fast falls the evening tide, The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; Change and decay on all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me. I need Thy presence every passing hour, What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me. I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me. --_Lyte._ FAREWELL OF THE SOUL TO THE BODY.