THE SKYLARK.

BIRD of the wilderness,

Blithesome and cumberless,

Light be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! Emblem of happiness!

Bless'd is thy dwelling-place!

O, to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay and loud,

Far in the downy cloud ;

Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where on thy dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?

Thy lay is in Heaven, thy love is on earth.

O'er fell and fountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green,

O'er the red streamer that heralds the day;

Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim,

Musical cherub, hie, hie thee away!

Then when the gloaming comes,

Low in the heather blooms,'

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!

Emblem of happiness!

Bless'd is thy dwelling-place!

O, to abide in the desert with thee!

GREATNESS OF DEITY.

"How great are his signs, and how mighty are his wonders! His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion is from generation to generation."

I MARKED the Spring, as she passed along,

With her eye of light and her lip of song;

While she stole in peace o'er the green earth's breast,
While the streams sprang out from their icy rest:
The buds bent low to the breeze's sigh;

And their breath went forth to the scented sky;
When the fields looked fresh in their sweet repose,
And the young dews slept on the new-born rose.

I looked upon Summer;-the golden sun
Poured joy over all that he looked upon;
His glance was cast like a gift abroad,
Like the boundless smile of a perfect God!
The stream shone glad in his magic ray-
The fleecy clouds o'er the green hills lay:
Over rich, dark woodlands their shadows went,
As they floated in light through the firmament.

The scene was changed. It was Autumn's hour:
A frost had discoloured the summer bower:
The blast wailed sad 'midst the cankered leaves,
The reaper stood musing by gathered sheaves;
The mellow pomp of the rainbow woods

Was stirred by the sound of the rising floods;
And I knew by the cloud-by the wild wind's strain,
That winter drew near, with storms again!

I stood by the Ocean; its waters rolled

In their changeful beauty of sapphire and gold;

And day looked down with its radiant smiles,

Where the blue waves danced round a thousand isles;

The ships went forth on the trackless seas,

Their white wings played in the joyous breeze,
Their prows
rushed on 'midst the parted foam;
While the wanderer was wrapt in a dream of home!

The mountain arose with its lofty brow,
While its shadow lay sleeping in vales below;
The mist, like a garland of glory lay

Where its proud heights soared in the air away;
The eagle was there on his tireless wing,
And his shriek went up like an offering;
And he seemed, in his sunward flight, to raise
A chant of thanksgiving-a hymn of praise!

I looked on the arch of the midnight skies;
With its blue and unsearchable mysteries:
The moon, 'midst an eloquent multitude
Of unnumbered stars, her career pursued ;
A charm of sleep on the city fell;

All sounds lay hushed in that brooding spell

By babbling brooks were the buds at rest,
And the wild-bird dreamed sweet on his downy nest.

I stood where the deep'ning tempest passed;
The strong trees groaned in the sounding blast;
The murmuring deep with its wrecks rolled on,
The clouds overshadowed the mighty sun;
The low reeds bent by the streamlet's side,
And hills to the thunder-peal replied-
The lightning burst forth on its fearful way,
While the heavens were lit in its red array?

And hath MAN the power, with his pride and his skill,

To rouse all nature with storms at will?

Hath he power to colour the summer cloud-
To allay the tempest when the hills are bowed?
Can he waken the spring with her festal wreath?
Can the sun grow dim by his lightest breath?
Will he come again, when death's vale is trod?
Who then shall dare murmur, "there is no God?"
W. G. C.