Oh, by those gentle tones and dear,
  When thou hast stayed our wild career,
    Thou only hope of souls,
  Ne’er let us cast one look behind,
  But in the thought of Jesus find
    What every thought controls.

  As to thy last Apostle’s heart
  Thy lightning glance did then impart
    Zeal’s never-dying fire,
  So teach us on thy shrine to lay
  Our hearts, and let them day by day
    Intenser blaze and higher.

  And as each mild and winning note
  (Like pulses that round harp-strings float
    When the full strain is o’er)
  Left lingering on his inward ear
  Music, that taught, as death drew near,
    Love’s lesson more and more: 

  So, as we walk our earthly round,
  Still may the echo of that sound
    Be in our memory stored: 
  “Christians, behold your happy state;
  Christ is in these who round you wait;
    Make much of your dear Lord!”

JOHN KEBLE.

* * * * *

“ROCK OF AGES.”

“Such hymns are never forgotten.  They cling to us through our whole life.  We carry them with us upon our journey.  We sing them in the forest.  The workman follows the plough with sacred songs.  Children catch them, and singing only for the joy it gives them now, are yet laying up for all their life food of the sweetest joy.”—­HENRY WARD BEECHER.

  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,”
    Thoughtlessly the maiden sung. 
  Fell the words unconsciously
    From her girlish, gleeful tongue;
  Sang as little children sing;
    Sang as sing the birds in June;
  Fell the words like light leaves down
    On the current of the tune,—­
  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
    Let me hide myself in Thee.”

  “Let me hide myself in Thee:” 
    Felt her soul no need to hide,—­
  Sweet the song as song could be,
    And she had no thought beside;
  All the words unheedingly
    Fell from lips untouched by care,
  Dreaming not that they might be
    On some other lips a prayer,—­
  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
    Let me hide myself in Thee.”

  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,”
    ’T was a woman sung them now,
  Pleadingly and prayerfully;
    Every word her heart did know. 
  Rose the song as storm-tossed bird
    Beats with weary wing the air,
  Every note with sorrow stirred,
    Every syllable a prayer,—­
  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
    Let me hide myself in Thee.”

  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,”—­
    Lips grown aged sung the hymn
  Trustingly and tenderly,
    Voice grown weak and eyes grown dim,—­
  “Let me hide myself in Thee.” 
    Trembling though the voice and low,
  Rose the sweet strain peacefully
    Like a river in its flow;
  Sung as only they can sing
    Who life’s thorny path have passed;
  Sung as only they can sing
    Who behold the promised rest,—­
  “Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
    Let me hide myself in Thee.”