e sight be blind,
Nor think of HIM who food supplies
To us and all mankind?

3 Whether our wants be much or few,
Or fine or coarse our fare,
To Heaven's protecting care is due
The voice of praise and prayer.

* * * * *

POOR MAN'S GRAVE.

1 Old Andrews of the hut is dead,
And many a child appears,
Whilst slowly "dust to dust" is read,
Around his grave in tears.

2 A good man gone where small and great,
And poor, and high and low,
And Dives, proud in worldly state,
And Lazarus, must go.

3 May we among the just be found,
Though short our sojourn here,
Who, when the trump of death shall sound,
May hear it without fear!

* * * * *

SABBATH MORNING.

1 The Sabbath bells are knolling slow,
The summer morn how fair!
Whilst father, mother, children go,
And seek the house of prayer.

2 Some, musing, roam the churchyard round,
Some turn their heads with sighs,
And gaze upon the new-made ground
Where old Giles Summers lies.

3 But see the pastor in his band,
The bells have ceased to knoll;
Now enter, and at God's command,
Think, Christian, of thy soul.

4 Whilst heavenly hopes around thee shine,
As in God's presence live,
And calmer comforts shall be thine,
Than all the world can give.

* * * * *

THE PRIMROSE.

1 'Tis the first primrose! see how meek,
Yet beautiful, it looks;
As just a lesson it may teach
As that we read in books.

2 While gardens show in flowering pride
The lily's stately ranks,
It loves its modest head to hide
Beneath the bramble banks.

3 And so the little cottage maid
May bloom unseen and die;
But she, when transient flowerets fade,
Shall live with Christ on high.

* * * * *

THE HOUR-GLASS.

1 As by my mother's side I stand,
Whose hairs, alas, are few and gray,
I watch the hour-glass shed its sand,
To mark how wears the night away.

2 Though age must many ills endure,
As time for ever runs away,
This shows her Christian comforts sure,
And leads to heaven's eternal day.

* * * * *

THE BIRD'S NEST.