"A STIEVE HEART AND A STURDY STEP WILL CLIMB THE STEEPEST BRAE."

NE'ER trow the day will lower throughout, although the daw be dark;

Ne'er dream you're doom'd to darg through life, though hard your early wark;

The morning gray and misty aften brings a golden

day

A stieve heart and a sturdy step will climb the steepest brae.

A wee bit jutting boulder whiles will help ye ower the

wa',

So ne'er despise the willing gift, although it may be

sma' ;

The birdie, e'er he flees, is proud to hap alang the

spray

A stieve heart and a sturdy step will climb the steepest brae.

The road to happiness is aft wi' sorrows thickly strown, The waur to win the mair we prize ilk comfort that we own;

And Peace and Freedom aft are gain'd by bluidy battle fray

A stieve heart and a sturdy step will climb the steepest brae.

Then if the prize ye seek be high, and if your aim be pure,

Press onward ever hopeful, still be patient to endure; For he wha seeks to enter heaven must watch, and

work, and pray

A stieve heart and a sturdy step will climb the steepest brae.

JAMES BALLANTINE, 1808

THE SLUGGARD.

(A LESSON FOR THE YOUNG.)

"TIs the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,

Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

"A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;" Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number;

And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands,
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier,
The thorn and thistle grew broader and higher;
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags,
And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs.

I made him a visit, still hoping to find

He had took better care for improving his mind;
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking,
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me:
That man's but a picture of what I might be;
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading."
DR ISAAC WATTS, 1674-1748.

GONE.

ANOTHER hand is beckoning on,

Another call is given;

And glows once more with angel steps
The path which reaches Heaven.

One young and gentle friend, whose smile
Made brighter summer hours,

Amid the frosts of autumn time,
Has left us with the flowers.

No paling of the cheek of bloom
Forewarn'd us of decay;

No shadow from the silent land

Fell round our sister's way.

The light of her young life went down,

As sinks behind the hill

The glory of a setting star,

As

Clear, suddenly, and still.

pure and sweet her fair brow seem'd Eternal as the sky;

And like the brook's low song her voice

A sound which could not die.

The blessings of her quiet life

Fell on us like the dew;

And good thoughts, where her footsteps press'd,

Like fairy blossoms grew.

Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds

Were in her very look ;

We read her face as one who reads

A true and holy book.

We miss her in the place of prayer,
And by the hearth fire's light;
We pause beside her door to hear

Once more her sweet "Good night!"

There seems a shadow in the day,
Her smile no longer cheers;

A dimness on the stars of night,

Like eyes that look through tears.

Alone unto our Father's will

Our thoughts are reconciled;

That He whose love exceedeth ours
Hath taken home His child.

Fold her, O Father, in Thine arms,
And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts and Thee.

American.

J. G. WHITTIER, 1808

THE HUMBLE ARE SECURE.

GREAT Lord of all things! Power Divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine

Thy grace serene and pure:
Defend my frail, my erring youth,

And teach me this important truth,
The humble are secure.

Teach me to bless my lowly lot,
Confined to this paternal cot,

Remote from regal state;

Content to court the cooling glade,
Inhale the breeze, enjoy the shade,

And love my humble fate.