HYMN FOR SEPTEMBER. "Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of Thy hands; Thou hast put all things under his feet."-Psalm viii. 6. O SACRED Providence, who from end to end. Of all the creatures both in sea and land, Beasts fain would sing; birds ditty to their notes ; Man is the world's high priest: he doth present Such as springs use that fall, and winds that blow. He that to praise and laud Thee doth refrain, But robs a thousand who would praise Thee fain; "The year's decline, 'midst storms and floods, The thund'ring chase, the yellow fading woods.' EASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness ! Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun! To swell the gourd and plump the hazel shells And still more, later flowers for the bees, For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells. Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Or sinking, as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourne; FOREST SCENERY IN AUTUMN. BUT see the fading many-coloured woods, Meantime, light shadowing all, a sober calm The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, |