"Tis this gives the cottage a charm and a grace,
Which the glare of a palace but seldom has known, It is this, only this, and not station or place,
Which gives being to pleasure-which makes it our own. Like the dove from the ark, a rest-place to find,
In vain for enjoyments o'er nations we roam;
Home only can yield solid joys to the mind,
And there where the heart is, there only is home.
OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.
Above, below, where'er I gaze,
Thy guiding finger, Lord, I view,
Traced in the midnight planet's blaze,
Or glist'ning in the morning dew;
Whate'er is beautiful or fair
Is but thine own reflection there.
I hear thee in the stormy wind
That turns the ocean wave to foam;
Nor less thy wondrous power I find,
When summer airs around me roam;
The tempest and the calm declare
Thyself, for thou art everywhere.
I find thee in the depth of night,
I read thy name in every star;
And when the radiant orb of light
With gold hath tipped the hills afar,
That ray of glory bright and fair
Is but thy living shadow there.
Thine is the silent moon of night,
The twilight eve, the dewy morn,
Whate'er is beautiful and bright
Thine hands have fashioned to adorn,
Thy glory walks in every sphere,
And all things whisper God is here!'
THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.
In doubt, in weariness and woe,
The hosts of Israel flee;
Behind them rode the raging foe,
Before them was the sea.
The angry waters at their feet
All dark and dread rolled on;
And where the sky and desert meet,
Spears flashed against the sun.
But still along the eastern sky
The fiery pillar shone ;
And o'er the waves that roll'd so high,
It bade them still come on.
Then Moses turned the sea toward,
And raised his hand on high;
The angry waters knew their Lord,
They know him and they fly.
Where never gleamed the red sunlight,
Where foot of man ne'er trod;
Down, down they go, and left and right
The wall of waters stood.
Full soon along that vale of fear,
With cymbals, horns, and drums,
With many a steed and many a spear,
The maddening monarch comes.
A moment-far as eye could sweep,
The thronging myriads tread;
The next-the waste of silent deep
Was rolling o'er their head!
THE VISIBLE CREATION THE SHADOW
OF THE INVISIBLE.
I praised the earth, in beauty seen,
With garlands gay of various green;
I praised the sea, whose ample field
Shone glorious as a silver shield:
And earth and ocean seemed to say,
'Our beauties are but for a day.'
I praised the sun, whose chariot roll'd
On wheels of amber and of gold;
I praised the moon, whose softer eye
Gleam'd sweetly thro' the summer sky:
And moon and sun in answer said,
'Our days of light are numbered.'
O God, O good beyond compare,
If thus thy meaner works are fair,
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of wasting earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be,
Where thy redeem'd shall dwell with thee!
Time was, is past thou canst not it recall :
Time is, thou hast; employ the portion small:
Time future, is not; and may never be:
Time present, is the only time for me.
THE BREATH OF LIFE
Joy is the spirit's element,
And joy is everywhere;
Not in a local heaven pent,
But free as vital air.
For ever hath she fed the soul;
For aye her melodies shall roll.
The morning stars together sang,
In answer to her call.
When earth to life and beauty sprang,
She graced and quickened all.
Unveiled shall be her perfect day,
Whene'er the heavens shall pass away.
Joy is the spirit's element,
And joy is everywhere.
Away, then, with the weak complaint,
Away with dread and care!
Around her is a radiant throng;
Help thou their everlasting song.
SUPPOSED TO BE SUNG BY NORTHERN PEASANTS.
Slow, slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest;
Thy course of beneficence done,
As glorious go down to the ocean's warm breast,
As when thy bright race was begun.
For all thou hast done since thy rising, O sun!
May thou and thy Maker be blest.
Thou hast scattered the night from thy broad golden way;
Thou hast given us light thro' a long happy day; [flowers,
Thou hast roused up the birds, thou hast wakened the
To chant on thy path, and to perfume the bowers;
Then slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest,
And rise again beautiful, blessing and blest.
Slow, slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest,
Yet pause but a moment to shed
One warm look of love on the earth's dewy breast,
Ere the starred curtain fall round thy bed,
And to promise the time, when, awaking sublime,
Thou shalt rise all refresh'd from thy rest.
Warm hopes drop like dews from thy life-giving hand,
Teaching hearts closed in darkness like flowers to expand.
Dreams wake into joys, when first touched by thy light,
Then slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest,
And rise again beautiful, blessing and blest.
Slow, slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest,
Prolonging the sweet evening hour;
Then robe again soon in the morn's golden vest,
To go forth in thy beauty and power;
Yet pause on thy way, to the full height of day,
For thy rising and setting are blest.
When thou com'st after darkness to gladden our eyes,
Or departest in glory, in glory to rise,
May hope and may prayer still be woke by thy rays,
And thy going be marked by thanksgiving and praise.
Then slow, mighty wanderer, sink to thy rest,
And rise again beautiful, blessing and blest.
Catherine, the Empress of Russia, had a palace built for her of ice. The workmen dashed water on the blocks of ice, where they wanted to join them, and the water cemented them strongly together. They also made chairs, tables, fireplaces, sofas, and a beautiful throne of ice. They coloured water green, blue, red, and yellow, and freezing, it made beautiful wreaths of icy flowers around the walls. When it was lighted up in the evening, the fires kindled in the icy fireplaces, and candles and lamps burning in their glittering chandeliers of ice, the walls were clear and sparkling, and the palace looked as if it were built of millions of diamonds and precious stones.
No forest fell, Imperial mistress of the fur-clad Russ, [stores, When thou wouldst build-no quarry sent its T'enrich thy walls, but thou didst hew the floods, And made thy marble of the glassy wave.
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