_See, in that rock-hewn garden sepulchre, The Holy One of God, despised and slain, With nail-torn hands and feet, and spear-pierced side, His gentle brow by mocking thorns defaced; See where He lies, obedient unto death. Into that pallid face the glow of life Begins to steal, while silent and in awe The heavenly watchers stand. Now they with haste Unwind the scented wrappings from His form That fill the place with rich aromas rare, Perfume of spicery and sweet spikenard's breath Lingering since Love her alabastron broke, And with her tresses wiped these tear-bathed feet. And then, their joyful faces all aglow Like flashing sunbeams, quickly by a touch They roll away the stone with jarring shock, As if an earthquake passed, and sitting there Behold their Lord go forth, Death's Conqueror!_ HENRY NEHEMIAH DODGE. O Thou Eternal One, who gatherest our fleeting moments into Thy permanence, when we draw close to Thee the terrors of change and vicissitude pass away, and a sense of the stability and security of all that is good brings us peace. We rejoice to know through Thy gospel that "life is ever lord of death." "Thou didst not suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption," and we trust that because He lives we shall live also. O grant that, believing in Him, we may not see death save as a door to more abounding life, and so realize our privilege daily to be risen with Him in the newness and power of an endless life. Amen. C. ELLWOOD NASH. Thanksgiving _Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands._ _Serve the Lord with gladness: come before His presence with singing._ _Know ye that the Lord He is God; it is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture._ _Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise: be thankful unto Him, and bless His name._ _For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting; and His truth endureth to all generations._ PSALM 100.