THE VOICE FROM THE CLOUD.

From "Verses of a Life-time."

"There came a cloud, and overshadowed them, and they feared as they entered into the cloud. And there came a voice out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son: hear him."

A CLOUD flits o'er the youthful brow,

And grief's first shadowings veil it now;
But hark!. within its misty wreaths,
A tone of heavenly mercy breathes,
"Tis my beloved Son! hear him."
A cloud hangs o'er yon manly form,
While buffeting misfortune's storm:
A wreck, his earthly treasure lies;
But ah! a voice in mercy cries,

""Tis my beloved Son! hear him."

Wrapt in her sorrowing sable veil,
Sits the young widow, sad and pale ;
Dense is the cloud that round her dwells,
But hark! the heavenly chorus swells,
""Tis my
beloved Son! hear him."

A cloud is on the sinner's soul,
Deep, deep the murky volumes roll:
He gropes, unaided and alone,
Until he hears the welcome tone,

"Tis my beloved Son! hear him."
Above the graveyard's grassy breast,
Funeral shadows love to rest;
But to the heart well-taught of Heaven,
A light from these rich words is given,
""Tis my beloved Son! hear him.”

In heaven those clouds will roll away:
Unbroken light, unshadowed day,
Shall burst upon the gazing eye,

And seraph voices raise the cry,

"Tis God's beloved Son! hear him."

We give also these few lines, which we copy from the "Lady's Annual Register,” of 1838, where not less than twelve of Mrs. Gilman's poetical pieces may be found:

THE EARTH IS BEAUTIFUL.

THE whole broad earth is beautiful

To minds attuned aright,

And wheresoe'er my feet are turned
A smile has met my sight:

The city with its bustling walk,

Its splendor, wealth, and power,

A ramble by the river-side,
A passing summer flower,

The meadow green, the ocean's swell,
The forest waving free,-

Are gifts of God, and speak in tones
Of kindliness to me.

And oh where'er my lot is cast,

Where'er my footsteps roam,

If those I love are near to me,

LEWIS GLOVER PRAY was born in Quincy, Mass., Aug. 15, 1793, and was educated at the public schools of his native town. Removing to Boston in 1808, he served for some years as an apprentice in a shoe-store, and in 1815 entered into business on his own account. In 1823 he was married to Miss Catherine L. Wright. Retiring from business in 1838, he has, since that time, during his continued residence in his adopted city, and after his removal to Roxbury (Boston Highlands), where he now resides, fulfilled many public trusts, and occupied himself with numerous charitable, religious, and literary labors. As early as 1821 he served as a member of the Committee which reported the basis of the Municipal Charter of Boston, and in later years was a member of the City Government, the Board of Education, and the State Legislature. Mr. Pray deserves

special mention for his services in the cause of Sunday Schools, having been one of the earliest pioneers and most steadfast laborers in this work among the Liberal Churches. For thirty-four years, from 1827 to 1861, he was superintendent of the Sunday School of the Twelfth Congregational Society in Boston, being also for the same period an officer of the church. In 1833 he published his "Sunday School Hymn Book," which was the first collection of the kind ever prepared for use in Unitarian Sunday Schools, in connection with music. To meet a new want, he published, in 1844, the "Sunday School Hymn and Service Book," which was a much altered and somewhat enlarged edition of the other, and embraced Scripture Lessons, and forms of prayer for children's worship. In 1847 he published a "History of Sunday Schools," and in 1849 a "Christian Catechism." For many years he was treasurer of the Sunday School Society, and also its agent to visit and address Unitarian Sunday Schools, far and near.

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In 1862 he printed for his friends a volume of his hymns and poems, entitled The Sylphids' School." In 1863 he published an “Historical Sketch of the Twelfth Congregational Society, Boston;" in 1867, a "Memoir of Rev. S. Barrett, D.D.," long the honored and beloved minister of the church just mentioned, and friend and pastor of Mr. Pray; and in 1873, at the age of eighty, an additional volume of hymns and poems, under the title, Autumn Leaves." He has been the author of various books beside, and for more than a half century has contributed to the secular and religious papers and magazines.

A large number of the hymns of this earnest and devoted servant of the Church and Sunday School first appeared in his own compilations of 1833 and 1844. Some of them have passed into other and larger Collections. The first four of those which we give below are taken from the "Sylphids' School," one of them, "When God upheaved the pillared earth," having been deemed worthy of a place in the "Hymns of the Ages." The other two of those which we copy are from "Autumn Leaves."

FOR A RURAL EXCURSION.

Written for the Rural Excursion of the Suffolk Street Sunday School, in 1843, and published in the Sunday-school Hymn Book, 1844. Several stanzas are here omitted.

COME when the leaves are greenest,

Come in the flush of light,

Come when the air is sweetest,

Come when the flowers are bright;

For God has made in beauty

The world in which we live,

To teach us of our duty,

To know him, and believe.

Oh! feel that God is speaking
In every breeze that blows,

In hues the clouds are streaking,
In every stream that flows;
Oh! hear him in the singing
That swells the groves among,
And in the grateful humming
Of every insect throng.

Oh! see him in the mountain,
And hear him in the rill;
Speaking from every fountain,
And vocal in the hill.

The planets, in their rising,

Him day and night proclaim;
While every season, changing,
Attests his glorious name.

MONODY

ON THE DEATH OF ISRAEL ALDEN PUTNAM,

A Teacher of the Twelfth Congregational Sunday School, in Boston, and graduate of the Divinity School, Cambridge, of the class of 1848. He died in his native town, Dan vers, Mass., Oct. 31, 1848.

DRY, dry up those tears,

Ye friends, sad and many:

Dismiss all thy fears,

If fears ye have any;

For thy classmate, thy teacher, thy brother, thy son,
Hath left us a pattern of life-work well done.

Gone, gone to his rest!

The young how they're grieved!

The good feel oppressed,

And the Church is bereaved;

For their teacher, their pastor, their brother, their son,
Was an angel of these; and his work was well done.

Stop, stop now the bier

That beareth the form:

His body lay here

For the earth and the worm ;

But thy classmate, thy teacher, thy brother, thy son,
Is not here, but is risen; for his work was well done.
Lay, lay on the sod

That hideth his frame;
But, remember, his God

Hath written the name

Of thy classmate, thy teacher, thy brother, thy son,
In the Lamb's Book of Life; for his work was well done.
Strong, strong is the grave

That holdeth his dust,

But stronger to save,

The Arm of his Trust;

For thy classmate, thy teacher, thy brother, thy son,
Was strong in the faith that God's will should be done.

Now, now, not alone,

But with myriads bright,

He stands round His throne,
With the angels of light;

Where thy classmate, thy teacher, thy brother, thy son,
Swells gladly the chorus, "Let God's will be done!"
Thus, thus shouldst thou feel,
In this day of thy grief;

And to Him should'st appeal,
Who hath promised relief

To pupil or parent, to brother or son,

Whose prayer at His altar is, "Thy will be done."

ORDINATION HYMN.

For the ordination of Mr. Alfred P. Putnam as pastor of the Mount Pleasant Congregational Church and Society, Roxbury, Dec. 19, 1855.

AROUND thine altar, Lord, this day,

Thy people here their homage pay;
Would seek thy grace, thy love review,
As they thy mercies taste anew.