Take heed and beware, my native land,—
To thy ways and words take heed!
On the side of right and freedom stand,
And say to the truth, "God speed!"
Let England herself a lesson learn,
And let her take warning too;
Let her judge as she would be judged in turn,
Let her nobly speak and do.
THE WORLD TO COME.
[Dear as Canada was to our authoress, dearer still to her heart was the true Father-Land, "the heavenly country" for which the children of faith in the olden time looked. Being born again she bore such a relationship to the world to come that we may say of her, as she does of "the bride of Christ": "The Cross was infinitely dearer to her than ten thousand worlds. It was twined around her heart with ties that nothing could ever loose. She wept, but they were mingled tears of joy and sorrow: sorrow, for she mourned that her sins had cost the life of the Son of God; joy, for she knew that that sacrifice had made a perfect atonement for her. She knew that the Father had forgiven her iniquities, and that he would no longer remember her sins. As she clung to the Cross, a bright beam of glory shone around her; she raised her tearful eyes, and a crown of everlasting beauty met her admiring gaze: she knew that crown was reserved for her, and that on her bridal day her Lord would place it on her own brow." With such an experience and such a hope, we are not surprised that she should thus discourse:]
The earth renewed presents a glorious scene:
Mountains and valleys of perpetual green;
Delicious plains, and odoriferous bowers,
Unfading forests, never-dying flowers;
Fruits that on fragrant trees immortal grow,
Rivers that murmur sweetly as they flow,
And gardens decked with everlasting spring,
And shining warblers on the tireless wing.
No howling tempest breaks the sweet repose,
No piercing thorn surrounds the blushing rose,
No sultry heat parches those blooming plains,
No night is known where day forever reigns;
No thunder's roar, no lightning's vivid glare,
No darkened sky, disturbs the beauty there.
The royal city, the divine abode
Of ransomed men and their eternal God,
Rises 'mid blooming bowers and lofty trees,
And waves its banners to the gentle breeze.
Upon its pearly gates and shining walls
A flood of everlasting glory falls,
And tinges with its own delightful glow
The lovely river murmuring below.
That river from the living fountain springs,
And, guided by the mighty King of kings,
It wanders through the saints' celestial home,
Where, robed in white, the ransomed nations roam
Through golden streets, and gardens fair and free;
And on its banks stands life's unfading tree.
All, all is bliss, and love, and glory there;
No pain, no sickness, no corroding care,
No grief, no aching hearts, no tearful eyes,
No broken bands, and there no severed ties;
For, o'er those broad and beautiful domains
The Prince of peace, the great Immanuel reigns.
The good have met, of every age and land,
Around the throne a glorious throng they stand;
The crown of life, the blood-washed robes they wear,
The conqueror's palms of victory they bear;
They bend the knee, they raise the joyful eye;
And hark! Oh, hark! that vast assembly cry:
"Worthy the Lamb to be exalted thus,
Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!"
And angels with the ransomed millions sing,
"Glory and honor to our God and King!"
TEMPERANCE
A WELCOME TO A TEMPERANCE PICNIC.
Old and young are welcome here
To the banquet we have spread:
It will cause no bitter tear
When the festal hour is fled;
It will break no mother's heart,
For the deadly bowl we shun!
Welcome then—and when we part
Blessings go with every one.
[The following lines were also written by Miss JOHNSON for a temperance picnic, held in a grove near her father's house. They were read by her brother Edwin, now a lawyer in Stanstead, P. Q.]
From north and south, from east and west
They come with banners gay;
Hope lights each eye and fills each breast,
And all are friends to-day.