Our father who in heaven dwells,
Behold a little child,

Who seeks the pardon of his sins,
And would be reconcil'd,

Oh, do not turn away thy face,
But now in love receive;
And give us grace to hate all sin,
And never more be grieved.

Be pleased, Lord, in mercy grant
My sins to be forgiven,

Be thou my portion and my pride,
And lead me safe to heaven.

WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT.

[Bold and with energy.]

If you've any task to do,
Let me whisper, friend, to you,
DO IT.

If you've anything to say,
True and needed, yea or nay,
SAY IT.

If you've anything to love,
As a blessing from above,
LOVE IT.

If you've anything to give.
That another's joy may live,
GIVE IT.

If you know what torch to light,
Guiding others through the night,
LIGHT IT.

If you've any debt to pay,
Rest you neither night nor day,

PAY IT.

If you've any joy to hold

Next your heart, lest it grow cold, HOLD IT.

If you've any grief to meet

At the loving Father's feet,
MEET IT.

If you're given light to see
What a child of God should be,
SEE IT.

Whether life be bright or drear,
There's a message, sweet or clear,
Whispered down to every ear—
HEAR IT

NEVER RAIL AT THE WORLD.

BY CHARLES SWAIN.

[With vigour and energy.]

NEVER RAIL AT THE WORLD-it is just as we make it,
We see not the flower if we set not the seed;
And as for ill-luck, why it's just as we take it,-
The heart that's in earnest no bars can impede.

You question the justice which governs man's breast,
And say that the search for true friendship is vain ;
But remember, this world, though it be not the best,

IS THE NEXT TO THE BEST WE SHALL EVER ATTAIN.

NEVER RAIL AT THE WORLD, nor attempt to exalt
That feeling which questions society's claim;
For often poor Friendship is less in the fault,
Less changeable oft than the selfish who blame.

Then ne'er by the changes of fate be depress'd,
Nor wear like a fetter Time's sorrowful chain;

BUT BELIEVE THAT THIS WORLD, THOUGH IT BE NOT THE
BEST,

IS THE NEXT TO THE BEST WE SHALL EVER ATTAIN.

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW.

[Earnest and vigorous.]

DON'T tell me of to-morrow:

Give me the man who'll say,
When there's a good deed to be done
"LET'S DO THE DEED TO-DAY."
We may all comand the present,
If we act and never wait;
But repentance is the phantom
Of a past, that comes too late.

DON'T TELL ME OF TO-MORROW,
THERE IS MUCH TO DO TO-DAY
That can never be accomplished
If we throw the hours away.
EVERY MOMENT HAS ITS DUTY,
Who the future can foretell ?
Then, why put off till to-morrow
What to-day can do as well?
DON'T TELL ME OF TO-MORROW ;
If we look upon the past,
How much that we have left to do
We cannot do at last.

TO-DAY IT IS THE ONLY TIME
For all on this frail earth;

IT TAKES AN AGE TO FORM A LIFE,
A MOMENT GIVES IT BIRTH.

FAILURE AND SUCCESS.

[Vigorous and boldly.]

It is in failure, in distress,

When reft of all it stands alone, And not in what men call success,

THE NOBLE, VALIANT SOUL IS KNOWN.

He who perfection makes his aim,

Shoots at a mark he may not reach,
The world may laugh, the world may blame,
And what it calls discretion, preach.

And he will fail to win the goal,

Which low ambition makes its own,

But far beyond, his earnest soul

Stands in the light, though all alone.

It was through insult, pain, and loss
That Jesus won immortal power,
Thus the great failure of the Cross

WAS HIS TRIUMPHANT GLORIOUS HOUR.

Think not of failure or success,

He fails who has a low desire,

Up to the highest ever press,

STILL ONWARD, UPWARD, HIGHER! HIGHER !

Make such thy purpose, such thy aim,
That they who watch thy spirit's flight,

Shall look to heaven, from whence it came,

AND LOSE THEE IN CELESTIAL LIGHT!

THE TWO ROADS.

BY JEAN PAUL RICHTER.

[Earnest and bold.]

It was New Year's night. An aged man was standing at a window. He raised his mournful eyes toward the deep blue sky, where the stars were floating, like white lilies, on the surface of a clear, calm lake. Then he cast them on the earth, where few more hopeless beings than himself now moved toward their certain goal-the tomb.

Already he had passed sixty of the stages which lead to it, and he had brought from his journey nothing but errors and remorse. His health was destroyed, his mind vacant, his heart sorrowful, and his old age devoid of comfort.

The days of his youth rose up in a vision before him, and he recalled the solemn moment when his father had placed him at the entrance of two roads,-one leading into a peaceful, sunny land covered with a fertile harvest, and resounding with soft, sweet songs; while the other conducted the wanderer into a deep, dark cave, whence there was no issue, where poison flowed instead of water, and where serpents hissed and crawled.

He looked toward the sky, and cried out in his agony : "O youth, return! O my father, place me once more at the entrance to life, that I may choose the better way!" But the days of his youth and his father had both passed away.

He saw wandering lights floating away over dark marshes, and then disappear. These were the days of his wasted life. He saw a star fall from heaven, and vanish in darkness. This was an emblem of himself; and the sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck home to his heart. Then he remembered his early companions, who entered on life with him, but who, having trod the paths of virtue and of labour, were now honoured and happy on this New Year's night.

The clock in the high church-tower struck, and the sound, falling on his ear, recalled his parents' early love for him, their erring son, the lessons they had taught him,-the prayers they had offered up on his behalf. Overwhelmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look toward that Heaven, where his father dwelt; his darkened eyes dropped tears, and with one despairing effort, he cried aloud: "COME BACK, MY EARLY DAYS! COME BACK!"

And his youth DID return; for all this was but a DREAM which visited his slumbers on New Year's night. He was still young; his faults alone were real. He thanked God fervently that time was still his own; that he had not yet entered the deep, dark cavern; but that he was free to tread the road leading to the peaceful land, where sunny harvests wave.

Ye who still linger on the threshold of life, doubting which path to choose, remember that, when years are passed, and your feet stumble on the dark mountain, you will cry bitterly, but cry in vain: "O YOUTH, RETURN! O, GIVE ME BACK MY EARLY DAYS!"

DUTY.

THE LITTLE BIRD'S SONG.

[Cheerful and with vigour.]

A little bird with feathers brown
Sat singing on a tree ;
The song was very soft and low,
But sweet as it could be.

And all the people passing by
Looked up to see the bird
That made the sweetest melody
That ever they had heard.

But all the bright eyes looked in vain,

For birdie was so small,

And with a modest, dark brown coat,
He made no show at all.

"Why, papa,

"little Gracie said,

"Where can the birdie be? If I could sing a song like that,

I'd sit where folks could see.

"I hope my little girl will learn
A lesson from the bird,

And try to do what good she can,
Not to be seen or heard.

"This birdie is content to sit
Unnoticed on the way,

And sweetly sing his Maker's praise

From dawn to close of day.

"So live, my child, all through your life,

That, be it short or long,

Though others may forget your looks,
They'll not forget your song.