SINGER'S INVITATION.

Sinner go. will you go
To the high lands of heaven?
'litre the storms never blow.
And the long summer's given.
Vhere the bright blooming flower.
Are their odors emi'ting,
And the leaves of the bowert
In the breezes are flitting.

Where the rivers of Joy

O'er the bright plains are flowing. Ami our bliss ne'er shall cloy—

To that land we are going. V, say, will you go,

And the world |eave behind you? Since its pliasure you know

Have but dazzled to blind you.

Will yon go to that land

Wlit re your Iriends wait to greet you There a beautiful band

Join with us to entreat you; They are waiting above,

Wailing happy to hail you. In those regions of love

Where bo ills can assail you.

Where the saints robed in white,

Cleansed in life's flowing fountain; Shining beauteous and bright.

They inhabit the mountain; Where no sin or dismay,

Neither trouble nor sorrow, Will be felt for a, day,

Nor be feared for the morrow.

He's prepared thee a home,

Sinner's can'st ihou believe it? And invites thee to come,

Sinner wilt thou receive it? O, come, sinner come!

For tin- tide is receding; And the Saviour will soon,

And for ever cense pleading.

ANSWER.

I will go, I will go.

To that bright home in heareu. Nor will tarry below

Where true joy ne'er if given. I will follow the just i In the high-ways and holy; Taking God for my trust

With the meek and the lowlj,

I have wandered from light,

I have wandered in sorrow, I have dreamed in the night

Of the joy of the morrow; But thf> joy of the morn

Was Mil] mingled with sadnes*. And the evening's return

Without comfort or gladnesa.

» will bid earth adieu,

With its vain empty pleasure*. And my journey pursue

To a laud of bright treasures; [ will sing of his love,

I will trust in his merit. Who will call me nbove

Endless joys to inherit.

Blessed Savour on high!

Help a sinner to serve thee! [f salvation is nigh,

0, protect and preserve me! And when devils assail,

Or the wicked allure me, May thy strength still prevail

And thy Spirit assure me.

Thus encompassed about

By his grace and his power, i,I will wrestle and shout

Till the glad final hour; 'IThen sing of his grace

As I pass o'tr the river, JAnd beholding his face

Shout, his praises forever.