THE HEAVENLY CANAAN. 66 Is that fair Canaan's coast? Are those her mountains high ?" Cry Israel's eager host, 66 As in the camp they lie. Let's send a little band Of brave and faithful men, To search the pleasant land, And bring us word again." The chosen band departs; What scenes before them rise, To charm their anxious hearts, And their astonished eyes ! They climb the mountain's side, Where golden harvests grow; Hide their delicious store; View gardens where the vine And olive-trees are seen, The sheep and lowing kine Amidst the pastures green. But while the beauteous land With walls of wondrous height, And towers tall and strong, And gates of iron and brass; And 'midst the countless throng Some who the rest surpass; Men of enormous size, Who wield the sword and spear And in whose sight the spies Like grasshoppers appear. But why should such a sight By Canaan's wicked race, And helpless babies bleed There is a land more fair Than any land below, And I would enter there, In spite of every foe. Then let me now begin To strive with all my might To overcome all sin, However hard the fight. The Lord will give me strength, And fill my soul with grace, And I shall reach at length THE DAISY. Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep For who but He who arch'd the skies, Could rear the daisy's purple bud? Mould its green cup, its wiry stem; And fling it, unrestrain'd and free, O'er hill and dale, and desert sod, DR. GOOD. THE MISSIONARY'S FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. QUEEN of the Isles ! where Hope entwin'd Her silken chains my heart to bind, And youth delighted flew, No more my Lord permits my stay, And bid thy shores adieu! Sweet impress of the hand divine! But, ah! thy glorious deeds of yore The message of the Prince of Grace, Yet prostrate at the mercy-seat, Thy messenger to be; Of earthly joy no more possest, But with thy gracious presence blest, H. E. CHARITY. "The very bond of perfectness." WHERE no charity abounds All the Christian path adorning, Vain our speech, as hollow sounds, Or the tinkling cymbal's warning. 'Tis the seamless warp and woof 'Tis the Spirit's richest fruit; Of all gifts the chiefest treasure. Remember all who love thee, Then for thyself, in meekness, Thy great Redeemer's name. W. L. N. |