Sire of the Universe.

MRS MARIA BROOKS.

IRE of the universe!—and me

SIR

Dost Thou reject my midnight prayer? Dost Thou withhold me even from Thee, Thus writhing, struggling 'gainst despair? Thou know'st the source of feeling's gush,

Thou know'st the end for which it flows: Then, if Thou bidd'st the tempest rush, Ah, heed the fragile bark it throws !

Fain would my heaving heart be still,

But pain and tumult mock at rest; Fain would I meekly meet Thy will,

And kiss the barb that tears my breast. Weak I am form'd, I can no more,—

Weary I strive, but find not aid; Prone on Thy threshold I deplore, But, oh, Thy succour is delay'd!

The burning, beauteous orb of day,
Amid its circling host upborne,
Smiles as life quickens in its ray:

What would it were Thy hand withdrawn?

Scorch, devastate the teeming whole,

Now glowing with its warmth divine! Spirit, whose powers of peace control

Great Nature's heart, oh, pity mine!

The Moon upon the Spire.

Unrest.

MRS EMMA C. EMBURY.

227

HEART, weary heart! what means thy wild unrest?

Hast thou not tasted of earth's every pleasure?

With all that mortals seek thy lot is blest;

Yet dost thou ever chant in mournful measure-
66 Something beyond!"

Heart, weary heart! canst thou not find repose
In the sweet calm of friendship's pure devotion?
Amid the peace which sympathy bestows,

Still dost thou murmur, with repress'd emotion,—
"Something beyond!"

Heart, weary heart! too idly hast thou pour'd
Thy music and thy perfume on the blast!
Now, beggar'd in affection's treasured hoard,
Thy cry is still-thy saddest and thy last-
"Something beyond!"

Heart, weary heart! oh, cease thy wild unrest!
Earth cannot satisfy thy bitter yearning,—
Then onward, upward speed thy lonely guest,

And hope to find, where Heaven's pure stars are burning,

"Something beyond!"

The Moon upon the Spire.

ΤΗ

HANNAH F. GOULD.

HE full-orb'd moon has reach'd no higher
Than yon old church's mossy spire,

And seems, as gliding up the air,

She saw the fane; and, pausing there,

Would worship, in the tranquil night,
The Prince of Peace-the Source of Light,--
Where man for God prepared the place,
And God to man unveils His face.

Her tribute all around is seen;

She bends, and worships like a queen!
Her robe of light and beaming crown
In silence she is casting down;
And, as a creature of the earth,
She feels her lowliness of birth-
Her weakness and inconstancy
Before unchanging purity.

Pale traveller, on thy lonely way
'Tis well thy homage thus to pay;
To reverence that ancient pile,
And spread thy silver o'er the aisle
Which many a pious foot has trod
That now is dust beneath the sod;
Where many a sacred tear was wept
From eyes that long in death have slept!

The temple's builders—where are they?
The worshippers? all pass'd away,
Who came the first, to offer there
The song of praise, the heart of prayer!
Man's generation passes soon;
It wanes and changes like the moon.
He raises up the lowering wall,
But, ere it crumbles, he must fall!

And does he sink to rise no more?
Has he no part to triumph o'er

The Christian's Progress.

The pallid king? no spark to save
From darkness, ashes, and the grave?
Thou, holy place, the answer, wrought
In thy firm structure, bars the thought!
The Spirit that establish'd thee

Nor death nor darkness e'er shall see!

The Christian's Progress.

THR

H. KIRKE WHITE.

HROUGH sorrow's path, and danger's road,
Amid the deepening gloom,

We, soldiers of an injured King,

Are marching to the tomb.

There, when the turmoil is no more,
And all our powers decay,
Our cold remains in solitude
Shall sleep the years away.

Our labours done, securely laid
In this our last retreat,
Unheeded, o'er our silent dust

The storms of life shall beat.

Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane,
The vital spark shall lie,

For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise
To see its kindred sky.

229

These ashes, too, this little dust, Our Father's care shall keep, Till the last angel rise, and break The long and dreary sleep.

There love's soft dew o'er every eye Shall shed its mildest rays,

And the long-silent dust shall burst With shouts of endless praise.