GOD'S OMNISCIENCE.

NFINITE God! to whom alone

Thy many wondrous works are known
Countless in earth and sky;

Whose eye of all alone surveys

The starry lamps' unnumbered rays

Through bright Infinity;

Whose.one glance sees the infant's birth,

Or when that babe, as sire, on earth

Spends his last closing day,

The hour when land and sea arose;

Or when in Dissolution's throes

They haste to flee away;

Oh! teach the finite mind of man

Vainglorious of its little span,

Proud of its puny might,

To view its insignificance-
Thy wonderful omniscience-

In reverence aright!

AGONY.41

F all the pangs that man can know
Were centred on the frame and brain
In one long hour of burning woe
And torture-strain,

The whelming waves of that dark sea
That closed above the Saviour's soul,
Could I with faith behold o'er me

Such breakers roll?

May I like Him in that dread hour
Pray yet more earnestly, and gain
By fervent prayer the wondrous power
To conquer pain.

In such a time, my Father, send,

When moments seem like hours in length,

That comforting, angelic friend

Who gave Him strength.

Who, though his form escapes the sight,

No spoken accent greets the ear,
Can yet beyond all human might
Support and cheer.

L

ACQUIESCENCE IN TRIALS.

ORD, grant me acquiescence in my pains,
Although my heart but forced assent

may yield;

Recurring troubles, as returning rains,

Pour on th' already overflooded field.

O, reconcile me, for the mind will say,
For me, such woes cannot be deemed the best;
While vagrant Fancy ever loves to stray

'Mid pleasures craved, with hopeless longing zest.

O, reconcile me, lest beneath some blow,
Whose agony awakes renewed unrest,

The unchecked murmurs of resentment flow,
And wrath unseemly agitate the breast.

Thou knowest all our human stubbornness ;
How we delight to steer against the tide
Of Thy good-will; how eagerly we press
To clasp the joys we know to be denied.

Grant me the majesty of conqu'ring Paul,
To glory in the things which grieve me most;
Grant that no earthborn trial may appal,

Or scare the Christian sentry from his post.

The thought that martyrs bravely underwent
The pagan's studied arts of ling'ring pain,
May raise the knees by trifles quickly bent,
And lend the quav'ring voice its manly tone again.

May'st Thou be honoured in whatever worth
Thy children put forth in their trial day;
May one more falt'ring feeble child of earth

Play fearlessly the part, most hard for him to play.