Soon all appear, in Sunday's trim bedight,
In seely hat, with buckle and with band;
The clean round frock, all dazzling, snowy white,
And shoen, all nicely kept by careful hand
Of thrifty dame, who well does understand,
And mouchel loves economy in all;

And wonts them ever bear this strict command
In mind, lest foul mishap their clothes befall,
To keep their decent plight, ne use them ill at all.

The lasses too, full trimly dight, I ween,
In straw-wove hat, with ribbons passing gay,
In flower'd gowns and figured kerchiefs clean,
Their morning meal fordone, themselves array,
And take, at call of bell, to church their way;
(Their bosoms deck'd with many a nosegay sweet,)
With sires and dames, whose eld mote cause delay;
Yet, at the porch, nath'less their pastor meet,
Whom many a lifted hat and comely curtsie greet.

Eftsoones they entrance make, with reverence due,
Befitting those in solemn worship found:
Each takes his wonted place in oaken pew,
And makes response, while all the walls resound.
Then finds that text the preacher shall expound;
Who haply teaches each attentive breast
How all to keep the Sabbath Day are bound,
And reads them how it aye was deemed best
To make this day a day of worship and of rest.

Ah me! that such there be, whose pride disdains (When these some metred psalm do use to sing), The artless measure of the' unletter'd swains, Who, chanting praises to the' Eternal King,

All' they no fine harmonious numbers bring;
Nath'less, I ween, in Heaven's impartial sight,
Are sweet as loftiest changes art can ring;
Since these, through nature, undisguised quite,
Speak with a soul devout, that weens to speak
aright.

And sooth to say, the lowly peasant finds
In practised piety a covert bower,

For shelter from neglect's cold frequent winds,
And from the surquedry of passing stower.
And in the sunshine of his happiest hour,
(Like happy hours, O! many him betide,)
He loves to gaze upon this fadeless flower,
E'en then more dear to him than all beside,
And wears it in his breast as rose that never died.

Possessed of this, he learns how false the fear
Of man,
in him who builds on things above;
Heeds not the sceptic's doubts, nor feels the sneer
Of infidelity his faith remove:

Him, hope shall centre in Eternal Love,
Nor shall the vapid ore, opinion's mine
Yields to the worldling, aught of this disprove;
For never will that swain his peace resign
For phantasies of vice, or folly's mad design.

Soon as the wonted time of service o'er,
Homeward with sober step and talk they tread;
Where the good dame well skill'd in housewife lore,
Full daintily the whiten'd cloth has spread,
And all in order meet the table laid;

Where soon is pight the savoury pudding rare,
And tempting rashers, streak'd with glowing red:
The which, while all the rustic household share,
Some praise the sermon past, and all the present fare.

Nor let the proudly rich and gorgeous great
Despise these humble peasants' unbought store;
Who, though they feast not in luxurious state,
Ne taste the dainties of a foreign shore,
Yet have enough, ne do they care for more;
For in their cot does fair Contentment rest,
Who flies Intemperance and her wild uproar,
To wonne within some little poor man's nest,
Far o'er the gold-wrought court of knightly gran-
deur bless'd.

How sweet to see them check the happy smile,
That oft will o'er their honest features fly,
When (as he ever wont) the sire awhile
Implores a blessing on them, from on high;
Not with a tongue which doth the heart belie:
For oft, I wis, upon the simplest heart
Does kind Religion, from her sacred eye,
Beam purest rays, ne brighter can impart [of art.
To those with learning fraught, and choicest thewes
Their wholesome meal dispatch'd, and clear'd with
care,

The frothing jug is spied, full pleasing sight!
Then seated at his ease, in elbow chair,
The sire his smoking tube begins to light,
With fragrant herb supplied, tobacco hight;
Which, when as Winter scowl'd upon the plain,
He used to quaff beside his hearth so bright,
While ranged around him smiled his elfin train,
Whose tattlings then have pleased, and please him
yet again.

Now (since with summer scenes the muse begun)
'Neath the wide elm, that shades his cottage o'er,
Behold him placed, well sheltered from the sun,
In chair, which, whilom had his father bore,

And eke his grandsire old had used before:
There welcome neighbours meet, in chat to pass
A social hour,-commend their garden's store,
Talk of the plough, of grain, of summer grass,
Or who for active skill in husbandry surpass.
Or heed the dame, with Bible on her knee,
And spectacles from paper case 'y took,
Withouten which she mote not algates see
To read some story from that sacred book:
As how Elijah, hid by Cherith's brook,
Received from ravens daily meat and bread;
Nor was in time of greatest drought forsook,
When to Zarephath's dame that prophet sped,
And from her wasteless cruise and growing meal
was fed.

Or how young David did Goliath slay;
That giaunt marvellous for strength and height;
Who, when he list his pourtance fierce display,
Full sorely Israel's armies 'gan affright,
Ne dared their champions prove the' unequal fight,
Yet was this shepherd stripling willing found,
Nor aught adred for all that paynim's might,
With shepherd's arms, a sling and stone, did wound
And him attonce o'erthrew, in that self-vaunting
stound.

These and the like, inscribed in sacred writ,
She culls thereout, to read them-how, of old,
The men of God their fiercest foemen smit;
As of the captive Israelites we're told,
Whom Pharoah long had pent in grevious hold;
Whence Moses led them out, with holy hand:
And how the parting waters did uphold
Their resiant waves, so they mote safely stand,
And passen through unwet, as on the driest land.

And how the pride of Bashan's king they fell'd,
And Sihon, eke, the Amoritish prince,

And all their fone,-so Heaven their might upheld,
In their great deeds its puissance to evince;
With miracles, which caused the durest flints
To gush forth waters in a limpid stream,
And other wonders there preserved since;
Full many more than here it would beseem

The Muse to write, sith there to read them best I deem.

Yet may I not withouten blame forbear
Of Judah's glorious bridal day to sing,
When angel triumphs fill'd the' exulting air,
What time on earth that mighty Saviour king
Came down, and did Salvation with him bring.
This heavenly story reads the' admiring dame,
Her soul upborne on love's ecstatic wing,

And on those faytours vile cries cursed shame, Who scoff'd the Son of God, and sore blasphemed his name.

But how indignant rise her feelings keen,
When, on the cross our bless'd Immanuel nail'd,
The world's stupendous sacrifice was seen!
Death's victim He, whom ministering seraphs hail'd
Their Prince. Yet nought Death's iron doors
avail'd:

He brake them, in His own eternal might,
The adamantine rocks of Tophet scaled,
And soar'd aloft to heaven's supremest height,
His Father's holy throne, and palaces of light.
But long to rest beneath this public shade,
The youthful swain, whose bosom dwells on love,
'Note much enjoy:-he finds his favourite maid,
And wends with her to seek the breezy grove,