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WHO COMETH FROM EDOM?

From Bozrah, lo! He comes; a scarlet dye
O'erspreads his clothes, and does outvie
The blushes of the morning sky.

Triumphant and victorious He appears,

And honor in His looks and habit wears:

How strong He treads, how stately does He go!
Pompous and solemn is his pace,

And full of majesty as His face.

Who is this mighty Hero, who?

"Tis I who to my promise faithful stand;

I, who the powers of death, hell, and the grave
Have foiled with this all-conquering hand;

I, who most ready am, and mighty too, to save.

Why wearest thou, then, this scarlet dye?
Say, mighty Hero, why?

Why do thy garments look all red,

Like them that in the wine-vat tread?

The wine-press I alone have trod,

That vast unwieldy frame, which long did stand
Unmoved, and which no mortal force could e'er command,
That ponderous mass I plied alone,

And with me to assist were none.

A mighty task it was, worthy the Son of God;

Angels stood trembling at the dreadful sight,

Concerned with what success I should go through

The work I undertook to do;

I put forth all my might,

WHO COMETH FROM EDOM?

And down the engine pressed; the violent force
Disturbed the universe, put nature out of course;
The blood gushed out in streams, and checkered o'er
My garments with its deepest gore;

With ornamental drops bedecked I stood,

And writ my victory with my enemy's blood.
The day, the signal day is come
When of my enemies I must vengeance take ;

The day when Death shall have its doom,
And the dark kingdom with its powers shall shake.
Fate in her calendar marked out this day with red,
She folded down the iron leaf, and thus she said:
"This day, if aught I can divine be true,

Shall, for a signal victory,

Be celebrated to posterity:

Then shall the Prince of Light descend,

And rescue mortals from th' infernal fiend;

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Break through his strongest forts, and all his hosts subdue."
This said, she shut the adamantine volume close,
And wished she might the crowding year transpose;
So much she longed to have the scene display,
And see the vast event of this important day.

And now in midst of the revolving years,

This great, this mighty One appears:

The faithful traveler, the sun,

Has numbered out the days, and the set period run.

I looked, and to assist was none;

My angelic guards stood trembling by,

But durst not venture nigh.

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WHO COMETH FROM EDOM?

In vain, too, from my Father did I look

For help; my Father me forsook.

Amazed I was to see,

How all deserted me,

I took my fury for my sole support,
And with my single arm the conquest won.
Loud acclamations filled all heaven's court:

The hymning guards above,

Strained to an higher pitch of joy and love,

The great Jehovah praised, and his victorious Son.

John Norris.

J

The Sister of Lazarus.

"The master is come, and calleth for thee."JOHN xi. 28.

A SISTER in anguish lamented the loved,

And tears of affliction streamed fast from her eyes, As she bowed 'neath the rod of the chastener, and proved That those blessings fly fast which most fondly we prize. She mused on his virtues, his kindness, his truth;

On the love that was borne her, so fervent and high, By the playmate of childhood, companion of youth, Thus called, in the fresh bloom of vigour, to die! And her burdened heart sunk in the darkness of woe, As the fond sister mourned for the cherished laid low.

But listen! a voice by the mourner is heard,

Whose tones send the music of peace to her soul,The loud sobs of anguish are calmed at a word,

And the tear-drops no longer in bitterness roll-
Hope breaks through the gloom that enshrouds her sad heart,
And her bosom expands with a rapturous glow-

Firm faith and full trust, their best comforts impart
As she hears from the lips of the messenger flow
Sweet tidings to bid her deep agony flee-
"The Master is come, and he calleth for thee."

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THE SISTER OF LAZARUS.

So, Christian! though gloomy and sad be thy days,
And the tempests of sorrow encompass thee black;
Though no sunshine of promise or hope sheds its rays

To illumine and cheer thy life's desolate track:
Though thy soul writhes in anguish, and bitter tears flow

O'er the wreck of fond joys from thy bleeding heart riven,
Check thy sorrowing murraurs, thou lorn one, and know
That the chastened on earth are the purest for Heaven:
And remember, though gloomy the present may be,

That the Master is coming-and coming to thee.

S. D. Patterson.