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When your bosom breathes a sigh,
Or your eye emits a tear,

Let your wishes rise on high,
Ardent rise to bliss sincere.

TRANSLATION.

Pellegrino Gaudenzi.

A. STEELE.

BRIGHTEST of spirits! proudly thron'd on high,
'Midst the gold flames that flash from star and sun,
In the wide deserts of th' etherial sky-
Th' Incomprehensible, Almighty One!
Dart the pure radiance of Thy presence down
On this benighted vale ;-to mortal eye
Display the splendours of thy majesty,
And open all the glories of thy throne.
Ages of old Thee recognised,—tho' seen
Dimly amidst thy works:-and man uprais'd
Temples and altars to Thy shadow'd name.
A God, a Father all Thy works proclaim,
Who is, and shall be, and hath ever been,
Though veil'd in darkness, and in silence prais'd!

BOWRING.

A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM LXXIV. 16, 17.

"The day is thine; the night also is thine, thou
"hast prepared the light and the sun.

"Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou
"hast made summer and winter."

My God! all nature owns thy sway,
Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day!
When all thy lov'd creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre, breaks,
And bathes in dew the op'ning flower,
To Thee we owe her fragrant hour;

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And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to Thee belong!
Or when, in paler tints array'd,

The evening slowly spreads her shade ;
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can, more than day's enliv'ning bloom,
Still ev'ry fond and vain desire,
And calmer, purer thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit free,
And lead the soften'd heart to Thee.
In ev'ry scene thy hands have dress'd,
In ev'ry form by Thee impress'd,
Upon the mountain's awful head,

Or where the shelt'ring woods are spread;
In ev'ry note that swells the gale,
Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,
The cavern's depth, or echoing grove,
A voice is heard of praise, and love.
As o'er thy works the seasons roll,
And sooth, with change of bliss, the soul,
Oh never may their smiling train
Pass o'er the human soul in vain!
But oft, as on the charm we gaze,
Attune the wond'ring soul to praise,
And be that joy what most we prize
The joys that from thy favour rise!

MISS WILLIAMS.

HYMN.

In the dust I'm doom'd to sleep,
But shall not sleep for ever;
Fear may for a moment weep,
Christian courage—never.
Years in rapid course shall roll,
By time's chariot driven,

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What tho' o'er my mortal tomb
Clouds and mists be blending?

Sweetest hopes shall chase the gloom,
Hopes to heaven ascending.

These shall be my stay, my trust,
Ever bright and vernal ;-

Life shall blossom out of dust,

Life and joy eternal.

BOWRING.

THE FOLLY OF ATHEISM.

DULL Atheist! could a giddy dance
Of atoms lawless hurl'd,
Construct so wonderful, so wise,
So harmoniz'd a world?

Why do not Arabe's driving sands,
The sport of ev'ry storm,

Fair freighted fleets, the child of chance,
Or gorgeous temples form?

Presumptuous wretch, thyself survey,

That lesser fabric scan;

Tell me from whence th' immortal dust,
The god, the reptile man?

Where wast thou when this pop'lous earth
From chaos burst its way?

When stars exulting sang the morn,
And hail'd the new-born day?

What, when the embryo speck of life
The miniature of man,

Nurs'd in the womb, its slender form
To stretch and swell began.

Say, didst thou warp the fibre woof?
Or mould the sentient brain?

Thy fingers stretch the living nerve?
Or fill the purple vein ?

Didst thou then bid the bounding heart
Its endless toil begin?

Or clothe in flesh the hard'ning bone
Or weave the silken skin?

Who bids the babe, to catch the breeze,
Expand its panting breast;

And with impatient hands, untaught,
The milky rill arrest.

Or who, with unextinguish'd love,
The mother's bosom warms,
Along the rugged paths of life

To bear it in her arms.

A God! a God! the wide earth shouts!
A God! the heav'ns reply;

He moulded in his palm the world,
And hung it in the sky.

Let us make man!-With beauty clad,
And health in ev'ry vein;
And reason thron'd upon his brow,
Stepp'd forth majestic man.

Around he turns his wand'ring eyes,
All Nature's works surveys !
Admires the earth; the skies, himself!
And tries his tongue in praise.

Ye hills and vales! ye meads and woods,
Bright sun, and glitt'ring stars,
Fair creatures, tell me, if you can,

From whence and what I am?

What parent power, all great and good,
Do these around me own;

Tell me, creation, tell me how
T'adore the vast Unknown!

DARWIN.

HYMN.

Jesus Teaching the People.

How sweetly flow'd the gospel's sound
From lips of gentleness and grace,
When listening thousands gather'd round,
And joy and reverence fill'd the place!

From heaven he came of heaven he spoke,
To heav'n he led his followers' way;
Dark clouds of gloomy night he broke,
Unveiling an immortal day.

"Come wanderers, to my Father's home, "Come, all ye weary ones and rest!" Yes! sacred Teacher,-we will comeObey thee,-love thee and be blest!

Decay then, tenements of dust

Pillars of earthly pride, decay!
A nobler mansion waits the just,
And Jesus has prepared the way.

BOWRING.

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