With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; sound His praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon has gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fliest,
With the fix'd stars fix'd in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wandering fires, that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who, out of darkness, call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky and grey,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise;
Whether, to deck with clouds the uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth, with falling showers,
Rising or falling, still advance his praise,
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness, if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark."
So pray'd they innocent; and to their thoughts
Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm.
ONCE in the flight of ages past,
There lived a man: and who was he?
Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast,
That man resembled thee.
Unknown the region of his birth,
The land in which he died unknown;
His name hath perished from the earth,
This truth survives alone :-
That joy, and grief, and hope, and fear,
Alternate triumphed in his breast;
His bliss and woe-a smile, and tear !—
Oblivion hides the rest.
The bounding pulse, the languid limb,
The changing spirits' rise and fall;
We know that these were felt by him,
For these are felt by all.
He suffered, but his pangs are o'er;
Enjoyed, but his delights are fled;
Had friends, his friends are now no more;
And foes, his foes are dead.
He loved-but whom he loved the grave
Hath lost in its unconscious womb:
Oh, she was fair! but nought could save
Her beauty from the tomb.
The rolling seasons, day and night,
Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and main ; Erewhile his portion, life and light,
He saw-whatever thou hast seen;
Encountered-all that troubles thee:
He was,-whatever thou hast been ;
He is, what thou shalt be.
The clouds and sunbeams o'er his eye
That once their shades and glory threw, Have left in yonder silent sky
No vestige where they flew.
The annals of the human race,
Their ruins, since the world began,
Of HIм afford no other trace
Than this-THERE LIVED A MAN!
You cannot pay with money
The million sons of toil-
The sailor on the ocean,
The peasant on the soil,
The labourer in the quarry,
The hewer of the coal;
Your money pays the hand,
But it cannot pay the soul.
You gaze on the cathedral,
Whose turrets meet the sky ;-
Remember the foundations
That in earth and darkness lie;
For, were not those foundations
So darkly resting there,
Yon towers could never soar
So proudly in the air.
The workshop must be crowded
That the palace may be bright;
If the ploughman did not plough,
Then the poet could not write.
Then let every toil be hallow'd,
That man performs for man,
And have its share of honour
As part of one great plan.
See, light darts down from heaven,
And enters where it may;
The eyes of all earth's people
Are cheer'd with one bright day.
And let the mind's true sunshine
Be spread o'er earth as free,
And fill the souls of men
As the waters fill the sea.
SHE was an only child; from infancy
The joy, the pride of an indulgent sire;
And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
|