The Rainbow.

WHAT beauties in the rainbow blend,
Fair bridge 'tween earth and heaven,
For steps of angels to descend
In peace, to man forgiven.

Like Jacob's ladder in the sky,
Woven of sunny beams,
To guide departing saints on high,
A crystal arch it seems.

From the Jerusalem above

Its radiant tints are caught; Its lessons are of heavenly love, With hope and pardon fraught.

Oh, what a day must that have been,
When God's bow in the cloud,
The brilliant rainbow, first was seen,
Fair pledge to man allowed.

Then the green earth from slumber woke,
Fresh from baptismal dew,

And high arose her incense-smoke,
With man's burnt-offering too.

Sign of acceptance and of grace,

Of mercy and of peace,

The rainbow looked on earth's bright face, And bid her fears to cease.

'Tis said, that if the rainbow rest

On flowers of earthly bloom,

'Twill draw from out their fragrant breast Celestial sweet perfume.

And not alone on earth 'tis found

To glad the weary eye,
A gracious rainbow doth surround
The Throne of God on high *

Sweet type of Her who intercedes
For us her children still;
Unceasingly for us she pleads,
And wards off every ill.

* Rev. iv 3.

Fair Rainbow of the Covenant she,
Proof of the Sun's bright ray,
Beneath her fostering shelter, we
Look trustful up, and pray.

"Fœderis arca, ora pro nobis."

i

The Oaks of England.

O'ER green and flowery meadows
The oaks of England wave,
Though the warrior hands who planted them

Are sleeping in the grave.

'Tis said, of old the Druids

Deemed each proud tree divine, For the guardian-spirits of the land To make their verdant shrine.

Gaily in youth they floated

O'er crest, and spear, and shield, And the good crusader's lordly brow, That never knew to yield.

And pleasantly they rustled
O'er the foresters of old,

With bows of yew, and limbs of steel,
And dauntless hearts and bold.

And once 'twas theirs to shelter
Their royal Stuart king,
Proud, as his throne and canopy,
Their leafy boughs to fling.

They made Great Britain's navy :
Where tongue her name hath spoke,
Her wooden walls are honoured,
And her brave Hearts of Oak.

Full many a long procession,
In England's Christian days,
Passed 'neath the dusky shadow
They threw across the ways.

The blessing round them lingers
Of Him who there was borne,
Through meadow and by woodland,
On Corpus Christi morn.

Alas! that they should flourish,
Their giant boughs to spread,
When the true faith is banished,
The old religion fled.