With streams of sacred bliss,

With groves of living joys, With all the fruits of Paradise, He still supplies.

Before the Three in One

They all exulting stand,

And tell the wonders he hath done Through all their land;

The listening spheres attend,

And swell the growing fame, And sing, in songs which never end, The wondrous name.

The God who reigns on high

The great archangels sing, And "Holy, holy, holy," cry, "Almighty King!'

Who was, and is the same,

And evermore shall be; Jehovah, Father, great I AM, We worship thee.

Before the Saviour's face

The ransomed nations bow,

O'erwhelmed at his almighty grace,

Forever new;

He shows his prints of love,

They kindle to a flame,

And sound, through all the world above,

The slaughtered Lamb.

The whole triumphant host

Give thanks to God on high;

Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

They ever cry;

Hail, Abraham's God and mine,

I join the heavenly lays;
All might and majesty be thine,
And endless praise.

"No Night shall be in Heaven."

THOMAS RAFFLES.

No night shall be in heaven,-no gathering gloom Shall o'er that glorious landscape ever come;

No tears shall fall in sadness o'er those flowers

That breathe their fragrance through celestial bowers.

No night shall be in heaven, no dreadful hour

Of mental darkness or the tempter's power;
Across those skies no envious cloud shall roll,
To dim the sunlight of the enraptured soul.

No night shall be in heaven. Forbid to sleep,
These eyes no more their mournful vigils keep;
Their fountains dried, their tears all wiped away,
They gaze undazzled on eternal day.

No night shall be in heaven, no sorrow's reign,
No secret anguish, no corporeal pain,

No shivering limbs, no burning fever there,
No soul's eclipse, no winter of despair.

No night shall be in heaven, but endless noon;
No fast-declining sun, nor waning moon;
But there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light,
'Mid pastures green and waters ever bright.

No night shall be in heaven, no darkened room,
No bed of death, nor silence of the tomb;
But breezes ever fresh with love and truth
Shall brace the frame with an immortal youth.

No night shall be in heaven. But night is here—
The night of sorrow and the night of fear;
I mourn the ills that now my steps attend,
And shrink from others that may yet impend.

No night shall be in heaven. Oh had I faith
To rest in what the faithful Witness saith,
That faith should make these hideous phantoms flee,
And leave no night henceforth on earth to me!

No Graves are There.*

R. A. RHEES.

"No graves are there;"

No willow weeps above the grassy bed

Where sleeps the young, the fondly loved, the fair,
The early dead.

No funeral knell

Blends with the breeze of spring its mournful tone,
Bidding thenceforth those balmy breezes tell

Of loved ones gone.

O'er the cold brow

No bitter tears of agony are shed;

None o'er the still, pale form in anguish bow,
Whence life has fled.

"No graves are there;"

Nor sunny slope, green turf, or quiet grot,
Those sad mementos of departure bear,

For death is not.

That fearful foe,

Here ever bearing from us those we love,
Resistless as his power is owned below,
Has none above.

* Upon a tombstone in a churchyard at Bridgeton is a beautiful device. Over the memorial a hand is pointing to the skies; and forming an arch just above it is the triumphant exclamation-There are no graves there.'- Chris. Chron.

No! in the tomb

Ends his dominion; there his power is o'er;

And they who safely tread its path of gloom
Shall die no more.

Father, we thank thee that there is a clime Guarded alike from death, and grief, and care, Untouched by time.

We praise thy name,

That from the dust and darkness of the tomb We can look up in faith, and humbly claim Our future home.

Hasten the day

When, passing death's dark vale without a fear, We, as we reach that heavenly home, may say, No graves are here.

Where is no more Sex.

FYSH.

WHEN tempests toss, and billows roll,

And lightnings rend from pole to pole,
Sweet is the thought to me,