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When the moon peeps over the mountain's height,
And the latest star has left the sky,
And the earth puts on her robes of joy,
With birds and breezes, O! 'tis meet To join the universal lay,
And nature's chorus to repeat; To lead the aspiring soul to Him,
Whose is the darkness, whose the dayWho kindled first the sunny beam ;
Poured forth the wandering milky way;
The canopy above-whose hand
Fathomed the ocean-reared the land,
See life and bliss around us glowing, Wherever space or being is,
The cup of joy is full and flowing.
Yes! nature is a splendid show,
Where an attentive mind may hear Music in all the winds that blow
And see a silent worshipper
In every flower, on every tree,
In every vale, on every hillPerceive a choir of melody
In waving grass or whispering rill; And catch a soft but solemn sound
Of worship from the smallest fly, The cricket chirping on the ground,
The trembling leaf that hangs on high.
Proud, scornful man ! thy soaring wing
Would hurry towards infinity; And yet the vilest, meanest thing
Is too sublime, too deep for thee; In all thy vain imagining
Lost in the smallest speck we see. It must be so-for He, even He
Who worlds created, formed the wormHe pours the dew, who filled the sea
Breathes from the flower, who rules the storm. Him we may worship-not conceive;
See not and hear not-but adore : Bow in the dust-obey-believe
Utter his name—and know no more.
His throne is o'er the highest star
That wanders heaven's blue vaults along ; He drives, unseen, His glorious car
A million viewless worlds among. A thousand-ay! ten thousand suns
Are darkness in His piercing eye!
Thy life runs on-and while it runs,
Vainly to know him dost thou try : That is a bliss for realms on high,
When thou shalt breathe diviner air, And drink of heaven's felicity;
For knowledge knows no boundary there.
Give it anchorage above;
Steal a ray from heavenly love.
In thy presence let me be,-
Blooming for eternity.
ABEL'S SACRIFICIAL ADDRESS.
Oh, God! Who made us, and who breathed the breath of life Within our nostrils, who hath blessed us, And spared, despite our father's sin, to make His children all lost, as they might have been, Had not thy justice been so tempered with The mercy which is thy delight, as to Accord a pardon like a paradise, Compared with our great crimes :--Sole Lord of
Of good, and glory, and eternity;
King of Kings ! and Lord of Lords!
Thus we more our sad steps timing
To our cymbals' faintest chiming,
Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread
The branches of thy fruitful vine,
O'er all the hills of Palestine.
No! by the marvels of thine hand,
Like us in utter helplessness,
On the margin of the flood