EXTRACTS FROM "CRITICISM."

What woful stuff this madrigal would be,
In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me!
But let a lord once own the happy lines,
How the wit brightens! how the style refines!
Before his sacred name flies every fault,
And each exalted stanza teems with thought!

*

To what base ends, and by what abject ways,
Are mortals urged through sacred lust of praise!
Ah ne'er so dire a thirst of glory boast,

Nor in the critic let the man be lost.
Good-nature and good-sense must ever join;
To err is human, to forgive divine.

Be silent always, when you doubt your sense;
And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence:
Some positive, persisting fops we know,

Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so;
Brt

you, with pleasure own your errors past, And make each day a critique on the last.

159

MEMORIES.

BARRY CORNWALL.

S

ING a low song!

A tender cradle measure soft and low,
Not sad or long,

But such as we remember long ago,
When Time, now old, was flying
Over the sunny seasons bright and fleet,
And the red rose was lying

Amongst a crowd of flowers all too sweet.

GOD KNOWETH.

MRS. MARY G. BRAINARD, CHANGED BY P. P. BLISS.

11

I know not what awaits me,

. God kindly veils mine eyes,

And o'er each step of my onward way
He makes new scenes to rise;
And every joy he sends me, comes
A sweet and glad surprise.

Where he may lead I'll follow,
My trust in Him repose;
And every hour in perfect peace
I'll sing, He knows, He knows.

One step I see before me,

'Tis all I need to see,

The light of heaven more brightly shines,
When earth's illusions flee;

And sweetly through the silence, came
His loving "Follow Mo."

O blissful lack of wisdom,

'Tis blessed not to know;

He holds me with His own right hand,

161

And will not let me go,

And lulls my troubled soul to rest
In Him who loves me so.

So on I go not knowing,

I would not if I might;

I'd rather walk in the dark with God

Than go alone in the light;
I'd rather walk by faith with Him
Than go alone by sight.