Not always darkness, _sure not always_ light;
'Tis well it should be so, we're travellers here,
Home, _that_ "sweet home," the Christian's place of rest,
Rises by faith to view when most distressed:
Oh! this life past--mayst thou find entrance there.

Perplexed, distressed, sick, or by friends betrayed,
Beset with snares, deprived of human aid,
In all thy sorrows whatsoe'er they be,
Go to the Saviour, tell him all thy need,
Entreat his pity, he's a friend indeed;
Lay hold by faith on _Him_, and he will succor thee.
Oh, do not live for this dull world alone,
When with the _Angels_ thou mayst find a home.

Jan. 1853.




THE EVENING OF LIFE.


As the shadows of evening around me are falling,
With its dark sombre curtain outspread,
And night's just at hand, chilly night so appalling,
And day's brilliant sunshine hath fled,

It is e'en so with me, for the eve of my day
Has arrived, yet I scarcely know how;