HURDWAR-THE GATE OF VISHNO 0.

BY L. E. L.

FLING wide the sacred city gates,

Wide on the open air ;

A higher Conqueror awaits,

Than he whose name they bear.

He comes not in the strength of war,

He comes not in his pride;

No banners are around his car,

No trumpets at his side.

Not in the midst of arméd bands,

The Christian Chief appears;

No swords are in his followers' hands,

They strive with prayers and tears.

Though faint and weak those followers seem,

Yet mighty is their voice:

The Ganges' old and holy stream

Will in its depths rejoice.

Low is the voice in which they plead,

A voice of peace and love;

Peaceful and loving is the creed

Whose emblem is the Dove.

Far in the East a Star arose,

And with its rising brought

God's own appointed hour to those

By whom it had been sought.

And still that guiding star hath shone

O'er all its light hath won;

And it will still keep shining on

Until its work be done.