SACRED SONGS. THE GRIEF OF JUDAH. HUSH'D is the voice of Judah's mirth- Fled is the bright and shining throng That floated wild on David's plain. 'or dark and sad is Bethlehem's fate, Her valleys gush with human blood; Despair sits mourning at her gate, And murder stalks in frantic mood. At morn, the mother's heart was light, Veep on, ye childless mothers, weep! SONG OF THE ANGEL. "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 39 good will toward men Luke ii. 14. ARRAY'D in clouds of golden light, More bright than Heaven's resplendent bow, Jehovah's angel came by night, To bless the sleeping world below! "Good-will, henceforth to man be given;" FALLEN IS THY THRONE. FALLEN is thy throne, O Israel! That fire from heav'n which led thee, LORD! thou didst love Jerusalem ;- Her love thy fairest heritage,* Then sunk the star of Solyma; "Go," said the LORD--"ye conquerors! *"I have left mine heritage; I have given the dearly-beloved of my soul into the hands of her enemies."-Jer xii. 7. t "Do not disgrace the throne of thy glory." Jer. xiv. 21. "The lord hath called thy name a green olive tree: fair and of goodly fruit," &c.—Jer. xi. 16. "For he shall be like the heath in the desert." -Jer xvii. 6. "Take away her battlements; for they are not the Lord's"-Jer. v. 10. For they are not the Lord's! GO, LET ME WEEP. Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew, "Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be called Tophet, nor the valley of the son of Hinnom, but the valley of slaughter; for they shall bury in Tophet till there be no place."-Jer. vii. 32. The heart, where pure repentance grieves THOU ART, OH GOD. "The day is thine; the night also is thine; thou hast prepared the light and the sun. Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast made summer and winter"-Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17. THOU art, Oh God! the life and light Are but reflections caught from thee. When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze Through golden vistas into heaven; Those hues that make the sun's decline So soft, so radient, LORD! are thine. When night, with wings of starry gloom, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume |