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In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,

And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers

On its leaves a mystic language bears. The rose is a sign of joy and love

Young blushing love in its earliest dawn; And the mildness that suits the gentle dove

From the myrtle's snowy flower is drawn. Innocence shines in the lily's bell,

Pure as the heart in its native heaven; Fame's bright star' and glory's swell

In the glossy leaf of the bay are given. The silent, soft, and humble heart,

In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes; And the tender soul that cannot part,

A twine of evergreen fondly wreathes. The cypress that darkly shades the grave,

In sorrow that mourns her bitter lot ; And faith that a thousand ills can brave, Speaks in thy blue leaves, forget-me-not.

- Percival. MIRIAM'S SONG.—THE POWER OF GOD.

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MIRIAM'S SONG.
SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,
Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free !
Sing, for the pride of the tyrant is broken,

His chariots and horsemen, all splendid and brave. How vain was their boasting ! the Lord hath but spoken,

And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,
Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free!
Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord,
His word was our arrow, His breath was our sword.
Who shall return to tell Egypt the story

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride?
For the Lord hath looked out from His pillar of glory,

And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide.
Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt's dark sea,
Jehovah hath triumphed, His people are free !

-Moore.

THE POWER OF GOD.
Thou art, O God, the life and light

Of all this wondrous world we see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,

Are but reflections caught from Thee ;
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.
When day with farewell beam delays

Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze

Through golden vistas into heaven,
Those hues that mark the sun's decline,
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are Thine.
When night, with wings of stormy gloom,

O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume

Is sparkling with a thousand eves,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine.

Where youthful Spring around us breathes,

Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh,
And every flower the Summer wreathes

Is born beneath that kindling eye.
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine,
And all things bright and fair are Thine.

- Moore.

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SONNET. LIKE as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doih transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow; And yet, to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

-Srakespeare.

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SONG OF THE DANISH SEA-KING. OUR bark is on the waters deep, our bright blades in our hand, Our birthright is the ocean vast, we scorn the girdled land ; And the hollow wind is our music brave, and none can bolder

be Than the hoarse-tongued tempest raving o'er a proud and swell

ing sea! Our bark is dancing on the waves, its tall masts quivering bend Before the gale, which hails us now with the holloa of a friend ; And its prow is shearing merrily the up-curled billow's foam, While our hearts with throbbing gladness cheer old ocean as Our eagle-wings of might we stretch before the gallant wind, And we leave the tame and sluggish earth a dim, mean speck

our home.

behind. We shoot into the untracked deep as earth-freed spirits soar, Like stars of fire through boundless space-through realms

without a shore ! Lords of this widespread wilderness of waters, we bound free, The haughty elements alone dispute our Sovereignty; No landmark doth our freedom let, for no law of man can mete The sky which arches o'er our head, the waves which kiss our

feet! The warrior of the land may back the wild horse in his pride, But a fiercer steed we dauntless breast-- the untamed ocean

tide; And a nobler tilt our bark careers, as it quells the saucy wave, While the herald storm peals o'er the deep the glories of the

brave. Hurrah! hurrah! the wind is up, it bloweth fresh and free, And every cord, instinct with life, pipes loud its fearless glee; Big swell the bosomed sails with joy, and they madly kiss the

spray As proudly through the foaming surge the Sea-King bears away.

-Motherwell.

GOD'S WATCHFUL CARE.

The insect that with puny wing

Just shoots along one summer ray,
The floweret with the breath of spring,

Wakes into life for half a day,
The smallest mote, the tenderest hair,
All feel a heavenly Father's care.
E’en from the glories of His throne

He tends to view His earthly ball ;
Sees all as if that all were one,

Loves one as if that one were all ;
Rolls the swift planets in their spheres,
And counts the sinner's lonely tears.

-Cunningham.

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