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* And if you please to see them now,

You've but to say the word " * Have done !" said I to the Nautilus,

* Or I'll throw thee overboard.
* Have done!" said I, “ thou mariner old,

And steer me back to land,"
No other word spake the Nautilus,

But took the helm in hand.
I looked up to the lady moon,

She was but like a glow-worm's spark; And never a star shone down to us,

Through the sky, so high and dark. And we had no mast, we had no ropes,

And every sail was rent; And the stores I brought from the charmed isle,

In the seven days' sail were spent.
But the Nautilus was a patient thing,

And he steer'd with all his might
On that up-hill sea, and he never slept,

And be kept the course aright.
And for thrice seven nights we sail'd and sail'd :

At length I saw the bay Where I built my bark, and my mother's house,

'Mong the green hills where it lay. * Farewell!" said I to the Nautilus,

As I leapt to the shore : « Thou art a skilful mariner,

But I 'll sail with thee no more."

“ But the ocean-fields are free to all,

Where'er they list to go,
With the heavens above, and round about,

And the wide, wide sea below.
“Oh! it gladdeneth much my very soul

The smallest ship to see ;
For I know, where'er a sail is spread,

God speaketh audibly.
Up to the north, -- the polar north,

With the whalers did I go,
'Mong the mountains of eternal ice,

To the land of the thawless snow. “We were hemmed in by icy rocks,

The strength of man was vain ;
But at once the arm of God was shown,

The rocks were rent in twain! “ The sea was parted for Israel,

The great Red Sea, of yore, And Moses, and the Hebrew race,

In joy went, dry-shod, o'er. “ And a miracle as great was wrought

For us in the polar sea, When the rocks were rent, from peak to base,

And our southern course was free! “Yet, amid those seas so wild and stern,

Where man hath left no trace, The sense of God came down to us,

As in a holy place. “Great kings have piled up pyramids,

And built them temples grand; But the sublimest temple far

Is in yon northern land. “Its pillars are of the adamant,

By a thousand winters hew'd; Ils priests are the awful silence,

And the ancient solitude !
“ And then we sailed to the tropic seas,

That are like crystal clear;
Thou wilt marvel much, thou little child,

Their glorious things to hear. “I have looked down to those ocean depths,

Many thousand fathoms low,
And seen, like woods of mighty oak,

The trees of coral grow':-
“ The red, the green, and the beautiful

Pale-branch'd like the chrysolite, Which, amid the sun-lit waters, spread

Their flowers intensely bright.
" Some, they were like the lily of June,

Or the rose of Fairy-land,
Or as if some poet's glorious thought

Had inspired a sculptor's hand.
“ And then the million creatures bright

That, sporting, went and came ! Heaven knows, but I think in Paradise It must have been the same :

DELICIÆ MARIS.

ONCE, when I was a thoughtless child,

I sate beneath a tree,
Beside a liule running stream,

And a mariner sate by me ;
And thus he spake: - "For seventy years

I've sail'd upon the sea. “Thou thinkest that the earth is fair,

And full of strange delight; Yon little brook, that murmurs by,

Is glorious in thy sight. “ Thon callest yon poor butterfly

A very marvellous thing, and listen'st, in a fond amaze,

When the morning lark doth sing.

" Thou speak’st as if God only made

Valley, and hill, and tree, Yet I blame thee not, thou simple child !

Wise men have spoke like thee. " But glorious are the ocean-fields,

On land you 're trammell'd round; On the right, and on the left likewise,

Doth lie forbidden ground.

The red rose is the red rose still;

And from the lily's cup An odour, fragrant as at first,

Like frankincense goes up. Oh, flowers, fair shining flowers,

Like crowned kings ye are ! Each, in the nature of its kind,

Unchanging as a star:Empires have fallen to decay,

Forgotten e'en in name All man's sublimest works decay, But

ye are still the same!

IT.

* When 'neath the trees that God had set,

The land was free to all;
When the lion gambollid with the kid,

The great ones with the small.
“There are no wastes of burning sand,

There's neither heat nor cold;
And there doth spring the diamond mine,

There flow the veins of gold.
“There, with the divers of the East,

Who down in those depths have been, I've conversed of the marvels strange,

And the glories they had seen. "And they say, each one, not halls of kings

With the ocean-caves can vie,
With the untrod caves of the carbuncle,

Where the great sea-treasures lie. " And well I wot it must be so:

Man parteth evermore
The miser-treasures of the earth ;

The sea hath all its store. “Then I've cross'd the line full fifteen times,

And down in the southern sea
I've seen the whales, like bounding lambs,

Leap up,—the strong, the free:"Leap up, the creatures that God had made,

To people the isleless main; They have no bridle in their jaws,

And on their necks no rein.
“ But, my little child, thou sittest here,

Still gazing on yon stream,
And the wondrous things that I have told

To thee are as a dream ;-
“ But to me they are as living thoughts,

And well I understand, Why the sublimest sea is still

More glorious than the land :
“For when at first the world awoke

From its primeval sleep;
Not on the land the Spirit of God

Did move, but on the deep!"

Ye flowers — ye little flowers

Were witnesses of things,
More glorious and more wondrous far
Than the fall and rise of kings!

Ye, in the vales of Paradise,

Heard how the mountains rang, When the sons of God did shout for joy,

And the stars of morning rang! Ye saw the creatures of the earth,

Ere fear was felt, or pain;
Ye saw the lion with the lamb

Go sporting o'er the plain!
Ye were the first that from the earth

Sprang, when the floods were dried, And the meek dove from out the ark

Went wandering far and wide;And when upon Mount Ararat

The floating ark was stayed,
And the freshness of the flowering earth

The Patriarch first surveyed, -
Ye saw across the heavens
The new-

made bended bow,Ye heard the Eternal bind himself,

Upon its glorious show,
That never more the waters wild

Should rage beyond their shore ;
That harvest-time and time of seed

Should be for ever more!

III.

FLOWERS

1. On the third day of creation,

Before mankind had birth,
Ten thousand thousand flowers sprang up,

To beautify the earth :
From the rejoicing earth sprang up

Each radiant, bursting bud ;
And God looked down, at eventide,

And saw that they were good.
And now, as then, ten thousand flowers

From the gracious earth outburst,
And every flower that springeth up

Is goodly as at first :

Oh flowers ! sweet, goodly flowers !

Ye were loved, in times of old, And better worth were crowns of flowers

Than crowns of beaten gold. They wore ye at the marriage-feast,

When merry pipes were blown; And, o'er their most beloved dead,

Fit emblems, were ye strewn! - The poets ever loved ye,

For in their souls ye wrought,
Like seas, and stars, and mountains old,

Enkindling lofty thought!
But greater far than all

Our blessed Lord did see How beautiful the lilies grew,

In the fields of Galilee:Consider now these flowers, he said,

They toil not, neither spin,

And God, himself, the garment made

That had a place within their hearts, as one of the Which they are clothèd in ;

family. In the perfectness of beauty Each several flower is made,

But want, even as an armed man, came down upon And Solomon, in all his pomp,

their shed, Was not like them arrayed ;

The father laboured all day long, that his children They are but of the field, yet God

might be fed ; Has clothed them as ye see:

And, one by one, their household things, were sold Oh, how much more, immortal souls,

to buy them bread. Will he not care for ye!

That father, with a downcast eye, upon his thres

hold stood, Gaunt poverty each pleasant thought had in his heart

subdued ; THE SALE OF THE PET LAMB OF THE “What is the creature's life to us ?" said he,“ 't will COTTAGE.

buy us food! Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and " Ay, though the children weep all day, and with pain,

down-drooping head It boweth down the heart of man, and dulls his cun- Each does his small craft mournfully!- the hungry ning brain,

must be fed ; It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs And that which has a price to bring, must go, to buy complain!

us bread!" The children of the rich man have not their bread to It went–oh! parting has a pang the hardest heart to win:

wring, They hardly know how labour is the penalty of sin ; But the tender soul of a little child with fervent love Even as the lilies of the field, they neither toil nor spin.

doth cling, And year by year, as life wears on, no wants have With love that hath no feignings false, unto each they to bear;

gentle thing! In all the luxury of the earth they have abundant

Therefore most sorrowful it was those children small share ;

to see, They walk among life's pleasant ways, and never

Most sorrowful to hear them plead for their pet so know a care.

piteously ;The children of the poor man though they be "Oh! mother dear, it loveth us; and what beside young, each one,

have we? Early in the morning they rise up before the rising sun, And scarcely when the sun is set, their daily task is " Let's take him to the broad, green hills,” in his done.

impotent despair,

Said one strong boy, “ let 's lake him off, the hills are Few things have they to call their own, to fill their wide and fair; hearts with pride,

I know a little hiding-place, and we will keep him The sunshine of the summer's day, the flowers on there!"

the highway side, Or their own free companionship, on the heathy com- | 'T was vain !—they took the little lamb, and straight. mon wide.

way tied him down, Hunger, and cold, and weariness, these are a frightful With a strong cord they tied him fast ;-and o'er the

common brown, three;

And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to But another curse there is beside, that darkens po

the town. verty :It may not have one thing to love, how small soe'er The little children through that day, and throughout it be.

all the morrow A thousand flocks were on the hills — a thousand From everything about the house a mournful thought flocks, and more,

did borrow; Feeding in sunshine pleasantly,—they were the rich The very bread they had to eat was food unto their

sorrow! man's store ; There was the while, one little lamb, beside a cottage Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and door:

pain A little lamb that did lie down with the children It keepeth down the soul of man, as with an iron 'neath the tree;

chain; That ate, meek creature, from their hands, and nes. It maketh even the little child, with heavy sighs tled to their knee ;

complain!

THE FAERY OATH.

Where was that land, I cannot say -
Its light was not like the light of day,
Its air was not like the air of earth
"T was the wondrous land where dreams have birth!
There were glorious things of shape divine,
There were fountains, that poured forth purple wine!
There were trees, that bent with their golden load
Of fruits, that all gifts of mind bestowed !
The very air did breathe and sigh,
As if o'erburthened with melody! -
But then there were frightful, creeping things,
The coil of the adder, the harpy's wings, –
The screech of the owl, the death-bed moan,-
And eyes that would turn the blood to stone !
I was set to the feast — and half in dread
I drank of the cup, and I ate the bread :
I was told to bathe -- and half in fear
I bathed myself in those waters clear; –
I ate – I drank - I bathed - and then
I could no longer have part with men.
I dwelt 'mong the faëries, their merry king,-
I danced on the earth, in the charmèd ring;
I learned the songs of awfal mirth,
That were made ere man abode on earth;
In the time of chaos, stern and grey,
'Mid ruins of old worlds passed away.
A careless, joyful life I led,
Till thrice seven years, as a day, had sped ;-
Ther: a longing wish was in my mind,
To dwell once more among human kind:
So up I rose, but I told to none,
What journey I was departing on;
And at the close of a summer's day,
I laid me down on the Leeder brae.
Ere long, came one, and a friar was he,
Muttering over his rosary;
He was lean, and crabbed, and old,
His voice was thick, and his prayers were cold,
He moved not my heart; - then came there by
A fair child, chasing a butterfly;
’T was a lovely boy with his free light hair,
Like a sunny cloud, o'er his shoulders bare ;
And as he danced in his glee olong,
He filled the air with a joyful song;
I blessed the child from my inmost heart,
With a faëry gift, that could ne'er depart.
Next came a maiden, all alone,
And down she sate on a mossy stone:
Fair was she, as the morning's smile,
But her serious eye had a tear the while;
Then she raised to heaven her thoughtful look,
And drew from her bosom a clasped book ;
Page by page of that book she read,
Hour by hour I listened ; -
Still on she read, sedate and low,
And at every word I was wrung with woe;
For she taught what I ne'er had known before
The holy truths of the Christian lore !
And I saw the sinful life I led,
And my human heart was shook with dread;
And I, who had lived in pleasures wild,
Now wept in awe, like a stricken child !

“Thy voice is weak, ihine eyes are dim," The holy father said to him; “The damp of death is on thy brow,What is thy sin ? --- confess it now! Confess it - ere it be too late; Is it blood, or pride, or restless hate ?" “I have shed no blood," he thus replied, “I have hated none — I have known no pride,Yet have sinned as few men beside :I have bound myself by oath and spell, To the faëry people of field and fell, With solemn rites and mysteries ; Can the church absolve such sins as these ?"

My son," said the friar, “ tell to me How such enchantment fell on thee; For thou hadst sinned, or it might not be." The sick man lay on the greensward low, But he raised himself and his words were slow:"I dwelt, as the minstrel dwells at best, The thymy wold was my couch of rest ; I watched on the ancient mountains grey, I dwelt in the greenwood, day by day ; I knew each bird that singeth free, I had knowledge of each herb and tree; I called each little star by name, I watched the lightning's subtle flame; I was learned in the skies and seas, And earth's profoundest mysteries. But best I loved, in the moonlight glade, To be where the faëry people played ; And list to their music, sweet and low, Too sost for joy, too wild for woe! And I tuned, both even and morn, To the witching airs of the fairy horn, Till I knew them all, and at will could bring The revellers wild from their grassy ring. Then I sate with them at a banquet spread, I drank their wine that was ruby red, And a deadly sleep came o'er my brain ;But when I opened my eyes again, I was not beneath my earthly tree A heavy darkness hung over me. I lay in a couch-like chariot wide, And one who drove me sat beside ; I heard him urge the horses fleet, And I heard the sound of their ceaseless feet; On they went, o'er the rugged road, For days and days, with their easy load ; Swisily we sped, and the passing air Was cool on my cheek, and lifted my hair ;On we went over mountains high, And roaring waters, we journeyed by ; And through thick woods, where the air was cold : O'er sandy wastes, and the furzy wold: Day after day, as it seemed to me, In a gloom like the night of eternity. Ai length, I sate in another land, With the faëry people on either hand;

4

Down I knelt, and I strove to pray,

With thee, the dead are blest: - they have gone But never a hope to my soul found way;

forth, For with that spell I was bound and bound,

Thou knowest not whither, but to some fair home, And with elvish snares was compassed round ; - Brighter, far brighter than our summer earthBut a prayer was ever on my tongue,

, Where sorrow cannot come. For soon I learnt that prayers were strong, To unweave the webs that were in my track,

It matters not to thee, that angel-guest To win my soul to the faëry back.

Nor spirit hath come down to tell thee where

Lie those delicious islands of the blest,-I have wrestled hard, I have fiercely striven 'Gainst them, and for my peace with heaven ;

Thou knowest that they are ! But now my strength doth ebb apace

What marvel, then, that thou shouldest ehed no tear, Father, can the church award me grace,

Standing beside the dead, that thou shouldst And among the blessed a dwelling-place ?"

wreathe * My son,” the reverend friar spake,

Thyself with flowers, and thy bright beauty wear * Behold! how the faëry web shall break;

Even in the house of death?
Thou hast fought the fight—thou hast battled long-
And the victor here is not the strong;

Oh! thou undoubting one, who from the tree
But the gates of heaven are opened wide,

Of life hast plucked and eaten, well mayst thou, And the contrite heart is the sanctified !

Unknowing evil, walk in spirit free, Give up - stand like the Hebrews, still –

With thine unclouded brow! And behold the wonders of God's will ;

Thy faith is knowledge, — and without a fear Lay down thy strist - lay down thy pride —

Lookest thou onward in the light revealed! Lay all thy hope on Christ who died,

Thou blessed child! In thee will I revere
And thou art saved ;- for at his spell

The truth which God has sealed.
Not faëry webs, but the gates of hell
Are dashed aside, like the morning mist

I will not doubt - like thee I will arise,
Oh, vainly might fay or fiend resist!

And clothe my soul in light, nor more repine Have faith! 't is the spell of glory, given

That life, and death, and heaven, are mysteries : To burst all bars on the way to heaven;

Thy strong faith shall be mine!
Have faith — have heaven, my son.” — There ran
A sudden joy through the dying man;

Then may I see the beautiful depart,
And the holy father bent his knee,

The fair flowers of my spring-time fade and die, Chanting, “ Te laudamus, Domine !"

With an unquestioning, unrebellious heart,

Strong in God's certainty !

AMERICA.

CHILD'S FAITH.

A STORY OF THE INDIAN WAR.

BEAUTIFUL it is to behold thee sit,

Listening the words thy father speaks of death!
To see thine unrebellious soul submit,

And thine unquestioning faith!
O that I had thy faith, thou gentle child !

Thy trust in the bright future, — and could see
Clearly, by human reasoning, undefiled,

The spiritual land, like thee!
Teach me thy love, thou meek philosopher !

Show me thy nightly visions, bright-eyed seer !
Give me thy faith! - why should I blindly err,

And shrink with anxious fear?
Why should my soul be dark, while I can pour

Forth from my feeble longings, light on thine ?
Why tremble I, where thou canst proudly soar?

Oh that thy faith were mine!
Death cannot chill thy heart, nor dim thine eye,

For thou dost fear it not;- thou hast no dread,
In looking towards the future mystery.-

No dark fears for the dead.

“I was at William Penn's country-house, called Pensbury, in Pennsylvania, where I staid some days. Much of my time I spent in seeing William Penn, and many of the chief men among the Indians, in council concerning their former covenant, now renewed on his going away for England. To pass by several particulars, I may mention the following: *They never broke covenant with any people,' said one of their great chiefs; and, smiting his hand upon his head, he said, “they made not their covenants there, but here,' said he, smiting on his breast three times.

“I, being walking in the woods, espied several wigwams, and drew towards them. The love of God filled my heart; and I felt it right to look for an interpreter, which I did. Then I signified that I was come from a far country with a message from the Great Spirit (as they call God,) and my message was to endeavour to persuade them that they should not be drunkards, nor steal, nor kill one another, nor fight, nor put away their wives for small faults; for

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