Psalms of Praise for June. POPE'S "MESSIAH.” A SACRED ECLOGUE. YE nymphs of Solyma! begin the song: Rapt into future times, the bard begun : As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, But, lost, dissolved in thy superior rays, QUARLES'S "DELIGHT IN GOD." I LOVE, and have some cause to love, the earth; She is my tender nurse; she gives me food. I love the air; her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me; Her shrill-mouthed choir sustain me with their flesh, And with their polyphonian notes delight me. But what's the air, or all the sweets that she Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee? I love the sea; she is my fellow-creature My careful purveyor; she provides me store; To heaven's high city I direct my journey, Without thy presence, earth gives no refection; The highest honors that the world can boast ness. Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be, Nor have they being, when compared with Thee. SUMMER-JULY. "SUMMER." SUMMER SOWING OF TURNIPS FOR WINTER FODDER. ARGUMENT. Lessons from the farmer's life. Turnip-sowing. Harrowing. Showers. Wheat ripening. Sparrows. Giles's repose. Insects. The sky-lark. The farmer surveying his ripen ing harvest. Reaping; gleaning. The harvest-field, and its groups. The dairy-maid. Refreshments in the field. Labors of the barn in harvesting. Flies; cruelty of docking. The insolent gander. Night; a thunder-storm. Harvest-home festival. Reflections on the separation of the employer and employed. Refinement checks sympathy and freedom. Lament of the laborer; his claims. A PROVIDENT FORESIGHT NECESSARY TO AND USUAL WITH THE FARMER. THE Farmer's life displays in every part A moral lesson to the sensual heart. Though in the lap of plenty, thoughtful still, He looks beyond the present good or ill; Nor estimates alone one blessing's worth, From changeful seasons, or capricious earth; But views the future with the present hours, And looks for failures as he looks for showers; For casual as for certain want prepares, And round his yard the reeking hay-stack rears; Or clover, blossomed lovely to the sight, His team's rich store through many a wintry night. What though abundance round his dwelling spreads, Though ever moist his self-improving meads And seem to promise unexhausted food; For this, his plough turns up the destined lands, THE PROCESS OF PREPARING A FIELD IN SUMMER DESCRIBED. -DRY CLODS, COMPARED WITH FOOLS; MELLOWED, AT LENGTH, BY STEADY, GENTLE RAIN. But how unlike to April's closing days! High climbs the sun, and darts his powerful rays; Whitens the fresh-drawn mould, and pierces through The cumbrous clods that tumble round the plough. O'er heaven's bright azure, hence, with joyful eyes, The farmer sees dark clouds assembling rise; Borne o'er his fields a heavy torrent falls, And strikes the earth in hasty driving squalls. Right welcome down, ye precious drops!' he cries; But soon, too soon, the partial blessing flies. 'Boy, bring thy harrows, try how deep the rain Has forced its way!' He comes, but comes in vain; Dry dust beneath the bubbling surface lurks, And mocks his pains the more, the more he works : Still midst huge clods he plunges on forlorn, That laugh his harrows and the shower to scorn. E'en thus the living clod, the stubborn fool, Resists the stormy lectures of the school, Till tried with gentler means, the dunce to please, His head imbibes right reason by degrees; As when from eve till morning's wakeful hour Light constant rain evinces secret power, And ere the day resume its wonted smiles, Presents a cheerful, easy task for Giles. Down with a touch the mellowed soil is laid, And yon tall crop next claims his timely aid; Thither well pleased he hies, assured to find Wild, trackless haunts, and objects to his mind. THE GROWING GRAIN IN EAR; SPARROWS; NATURE, SOLITUDE, AND WISDOM. Shot up from broad rank blades that droop below, Here branches bend, there corn o'ertops his head. GILES REPOSING; SUMMER INSECT LIFE; HABITS OF THE Just where the parting bough's light shadows play, Scarce in the shade, nor in the scorching day, Stretched on the turf he lies, a peopled bed, Where swarming insects creep around his head! The small dust-colored beetle climbs with pain O'er the smooth plantain-leaf, a spacious plain! Thence higher still, by countless steps conveyed, He gains the summit of a shivering blade, And flirts his filmy wings, and looks around, Exulting in his distance from the ground. The tender-speckled moth here dancing seen, The vaulting grasshopper of glossy green, And all prolific Summer's sporting train, Their little lives by various powers sustain. But what can unassisted vision do? What, but recoil where most it would pursue; His patient gaze but finish with a sigh, THE LARK; ITS SOARING WATCHED BY GILES; HIS INNOCENT Just starting from the corn she cheerly sings, And trusts with conscious pride her downy wings; Still louder breathes, and in the face of day Mounts up, and calls on Giles to mark her way. Close to his eyes his hat he instant bends, And forms a friendly telescope, that lends Just aid enough to dull the glaring light, And place the wandering bird before his sight; Yet oft beneath a cloud she sweeps along, Lost for a while, yet pours her varied song: He views the spot, and as the cloud moves by, Again she stretches up the clear blue sky ; Her form, her motion, undistinguished quite, Save when she wheels direct from shade to light: The fluttering songstress a mere speck became, Like fancy's floating bubbles in a dream; He sees her yet, but, yielding to repose, Unwittingly his jaded eyelids close. Delicious sleep! From sleep who could forbear, With no more guilt than Giles, and no more care? Peace o'er his slumbers waves her guardian wing, Nor conscience once disturbs him with a sting; He wakes refreshed from every trivial pain, And takes his pole and brushes round again. THE RIPENED CROP. SUNDAY MORNING SURVEY BY THE Its dark-green hue, its sicklier tints, all fail, A glorious sight, if glory dwells below, REAPERS AND GLEANERS. COTTAGERS. Here, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth, Nature herself invites the reapers forth; Dares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth's rest, And gives that ardor which in every breast From infancy to age alike appears, When the first sheaf its plumy top uprears. No rake takes here what Heaven to all bestowsChildren of want, for you the bounty flows! And every cottage, from the plenteous store, Receives a burden nightly at its door. THE REAPING; HEALTH; JOLLITY; TURN OUT OF ALL HANDS. Hark! where the sweeping scythe now rips along; Each sturdy mower emulous and strong; Whose writhing form meridian heat defies, Bends o'er his work, and every sinew tries; Prostrates the waving treasure at his feet, But spares the rising clover, short and sweet. Come, Health! come, Jollity! light-footed, come; Here hold your revels, and make this your home. Each heart awaits and hails you as its own; Each moistened brow, that scorns to wear a frown: The unpeopled dwelling mourns its tenants strayed; E'en the domestic, laughing dairy-maid Hies to the field, the general toil to share. THE FARMER'S GLAD SUPERVISION; HARVESTERS; MASTIFF ; LOVE AND BEAUTY. Meanwhile the farmer quits his elbow-chair, His cool brick-floor, his pitcher, and his ease, And braves the sultry beams, and gladly sees His gates thrown open, and his team abroad, The ready group attendant on his word, To turn the swarth, the quivering load to rear,, Or ply the busy rake, the land to clear. Summer's light garb itself now cumbrous grown, Each his thin doublet in the shade throws down; Where oft the mastiff skulks with half-shut eye, And rouses at the stranger passing by; Whilst unrestrained the social converse flows, And every breast Love's powerful impulse knows, And rival wits, with more than rustic grace, Confess the presence of a pretty face. THE BUXOM COUNTRY MAID. For, lo encircled there, the lovely maid, And many a jest of momentary birth, REFRESHMENTS IN THE HARVEST-FIELD.-HOME-BREWED ALE. -MARY. Now noon gone by, and four declining hours, The weary limbs relax their boasted powers; Thirst rages strong, the fainting spirits fail, And ask the sovereign cordial, home-brewed ale: Beneath some sheltering heap of yellow corn Rest the hooped keg, and friendly, cooling horn, That mocks alike the goblet's brittle frame, Its costlier potions, and its nobler name. To Mary first the brimming draught is given, By toil made welcome as the dews of heaven, And never lip that pressed its homely edge Has kinder blessings or a heartier pledge. HARVEST EMPLOYMENTS OF GILES; TREADING DOWN THE MOW. BALL, THE CART-HORSE; FLIES; CRUELTY OF DOCKING. — Yet by the unclouded sun are hourly bred THE INSOLENT GANDER; HIS ATTACKS ON THE COLT, COW, Is 't not enough that plagues like these molest? Must still another foe annoy their rest? He comes, the pest and terror of the yard, His full-fledged progeny's imperious guard; The gander; spiteful, insolent, and bold, At the colt's footlock takes his daring hold, There, serpent-like, escapes a dreadful blow; And straight attacks a poor defenceless cow : Each booby goose the unworthy strife enjoys, And hails his prowess with redoubled noise. Then back he stalks, of self-importance full, Seizes the shaggy foretop of the bull, Till whirled aloft he falls; a timely check, Enough to dislocate his worthless neck; For, lo! of old, he boasts an honored wound; Behold that broken wing that trails the ground! Thus fools and bravoes kindred pranks pursue; As savage quite, and oft as fatal too. Happy the man that foils an envious elf, Using the darts of spleen to serve himself. As when by turns the strolling swine engage The utmost efforts of the bully's rage, |