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A MATIN.

BY BOWRING.

When the moon peeps over the mountain's height,

And the latest star has left the sky,
And the dews disperse at the glance of light,

And the earth puts on her robes of joy,
And the flowers look out, and the woods are gay

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;
Filled all heaven's lamps with ether, spread

The canopy above-whose hand
The valleys and the mountains weighed--

Fathomed the ocean-reared the land,
And crowded all with life and bliss :

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.
O ! if joy be here thy doom

Give it anchorage above;
If thy path be dark with gloom

Steal a ray from heavenly love.
Source of joy !--my friend !--my father!

In thy presence let me be,-
Here the flower of virtue gather,

Blooming for eternity.

ABEL'S SACRIFICIAL ADDRESS.

BY BRYON.

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

light!

Of good, and glory, and eternity;
Without whom all were evil, and with whom
Nothing can err, except to some good end
Of thine omnipotent benevolence-
Inscrutable, but still to be fulfilled
Accept from out thy humble first of shepherd's
First of the first-born flocks-an offering,
In itself nothing—as what offering can be
Aught unto thee ?—but yet accept it for
The thanksgiving of Him who spreads it in
The face of thy heaven, bowing his own
Even to the dust, of which he is, in honour
Of Thee, and of Thy name, for evermore!

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King of Kings ! and Lord of Lords!

Thus we more our sad steps timing

To our cymbals' faintest chiming,
Where thy house its rest accords.
Chased and wounded birds are we;
Through the dark air fled to thee;
To the shadow of thy wing,
Lord of Lords ! and King of Kings!

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Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread

The branches of thy fruitful vine,
That its luxurious branches spread

O'er all the hills of Palestine.
And now the wild boar comes to waste
Even us, the greenest boughs and last,
That drinking of thy choicest dew,
On Zion's hill in beauty grew.

No! by the marvels of thine hand,
Thou still wilt save thy chosen land !
By all thine ancient mercies shown
By all our father's foes o'erthrown ;
By the Egyptian car-borne host,
Scattered on the Read Sea coast;
By that wide and bloodless slaugh:er
Underneath the drowning water.

Like us in utter helplessness,
In their last and worst distress-
On the sand and sea-weed lying,
Israel poured her doleful sighing ;
While before the deep sea flowed,
And behind fierce Egypt rode-
To their fathers' God they prayed,
To the Lord of Hosts for aid,

On the margin of the flood
With lifted rod the Prophet stood ;
And the summoned east wind blew,
And aside it sternly threw
The gathered waves, that took their stand,
Like crystal rocks, on either hand,

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