Its sylvan village sleeps below, A place where all things mournful meet, With what a pensive beauty fall Bright through the blossoms leaves his nest! What lulling sound, and shadow cool, Oft hath the lowly wine and bread, Been blest beneath thy murmuring tent; Where many a bright and hoary head, Bowed at that awful sacrament. Now all beneath the turf are laid, On which they sat, and sang, and prayed. Alone that consecrated tree Ascends the tapering spire, that seems To heaven, with all its dreams! SPRING. [BISHOP HEBER.] WHEN spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil; When summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil; When winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood, In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Maker good. The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade, The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade, The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way, The moon and stars their Master's name in silent pomp display. Shall man, the lord of nature, expectant of the skyShall man, alone unthankful, his little praise deny? No; let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be, Thee, Master, must we always love, and Saviour honour thee. The flowers of spring may wither, the hope of summer fade, The autumn droop in winter, the bird forsake the shade, The winds be lull'd, the sun and moon forget their old decree, But we, in nature's latest hour, O Lord, will cling to thee!' LINES UPON A BUTTERFLY, SEEN ON THE SUMMIT OF MONT BLANU. [REV. WILLIAM LIPDIARD.] HAIL to thee! thou little fly, Not idly lent, those wings that lift They bear thee from the realms of night, While toil-worn man, with faltering feet, And while he heaves his hurried breath. Thou gambol'st here aloft and fleet; MORALIZING. [DELTA.] How soft is the sound of the river, Stealing down through the green piny dale, Blue evening comes onward, and scatters The clouds journey past, and below green; Are reflected, in brightness, their margins of snow. Ch, sweet is the vision that loses Present cares in the glow of the past! As the light of reflection reposes Sweet dreams! that have sparkled and gone. But why should break forth our repining, Our visions accomplished or crost, 'Tis ours to be calm and resigned, Faith's star beaming clear on the night of the mind. When morning awoke on the ocean, Dim tempests were lowering around; Yet see, with how steadfast a motion, As the clouds bend and glow with devotion, The sun his asylum hath found! Twilight weeps in deep pleasure, and red Are the low-lying vale, and the tall mountain head. Lo! thus, when the clouds of life's sorrow Have past and have perished, the sky An added effulgence shall borrow From the storms that have flown, and the morrow Gleam bright in eternity's eye; And the Angel of righteousness send His balm to that heart which is true to the end! THE CHILD AND FLOWERS. [MRS. HEMANS.] HAST thou been in the woods with the honey-bee? |