THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.

THIS

HIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,

The adventurous bark that flings

On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,

Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!

And every chambered cell,

Where its dim, dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed, -

Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil

That spread his lustrous coil;

Still, as the spiral grew,

He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,

Built up its idle door,

Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no

more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,

Cast from her lap, forlorn!

From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!

While on mine ear it rings,

Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that

sings:

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast ;
Till thou at length art free,

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

THE PROMISE.

NOT charity we ask,

Nor yet thy gift refuse;

Please thy light fancy with the easy task,

Only to look and choose.

The little-heeded toy

That wins thy treasured gold

May be the dearest memory, holiest joy,
Of coming years untold.

Heaven rains on every heart,
But there its showers divide,

The drops of mercy choosing as they part

The dark or glowing side.

One kindly deed may turn

The fountain of thy soul

To love's sweet day-star, that shall o'er thee burn
Long as its currents roll!

The pleasures thou hast planned,-
Where shall their memory be

When the white angel with the freezing hand

Shall sit and watch by thee?

Living, thou dost not live,

If mercy's spring run dry;

What Heaven has lent thee wilt thou freely give,

Dying, thou shalt not die!

He promised even so!

To thee His lips repeat,

Behold, the tears that soothed thy sister's woe Have washed thy Master's feet!

HYMN OF TRUST.

LOVE Divine, that stooped to share
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear,
On Thee we cast each earth-born care,
We smile at pain while Thou art near!

Though long the weary way we tread,
And sorrow crown each lingering year,
No path we shun, no darkness dread,
Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near!

When drooping pleasure turns to grief,
And trembling faith is changed to fear,
The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf,
Shall softly tell us, Thou art near!

On Thee we fling our burdening woe,
O Love Divine, forever dear,
Content to suffer while we know,
Living and dying, Thou art near!

A SUN-DAY HYMN.

LORD of all being! throned afar,

Thy glory flames from sun and star;

Centre and soul of every sphere,

Yet to each loving heart how near!

Sun of our life, thy quickening ray
Sheds on our path the glow of day;
Star of our hope, thy softened light
Cheers the long watches of the night.

Our midnight is thy smile withdrawn ;
Our noontide is thy gracious dawn ;
Our rainbow arch thy mercy's sign;

All, save the clouds of sin, are thine!

Lord of all life, below, above,

Whose light is truth, whose warmth is love,
Before thy ever-blazing throne

We ask no lustre of our own.

Grant us thy truth to make us free,

And kindling hearts that burn for thee,

Till all thy living altars claim

One holy light, one heavenly flame!

THE LAST LOOK.

BEHOLD-not him we knew!

This was the prison which his soul looked through,

Tender, and brave, and true.

His voice no more is heard ;

And his dead name that dear familiar word

Lies on our lips unstirred.

He spake with poet's tongue;

Living, for him the minstrel's lyre was strung:
He shall not die unsung!

Grief tried his love, and pain;

And the long bondage of his martyr-chain
Vexed his sweet soul, in vain!

It felt life's surges break;

As, girt with stormy seas, his island lake,
Smiling while tempests wake.

How can we sorrow more?

Grieve not for him whose heart had gone before
To that untrodden shore!

Lo, through its leafy screen,
A gleam of sunlight on a ring of green,
Untrodden, half unseen!

Here let his body rest,

Where the calm shadows that his soul loved best
May slide above his breast.

Smooth his uncurtained bed;

And if some natural tears are softly shed,

It is not for the dead.

Fold the green turf aright

For the long hours before the morning's light,

And say the last Good-night!

And plant a clear white stone

Close by those mounds which held his loved, his own,-
Lonely, but not alone.

Here let him sleeping lie,

Till Heaven's bright watchers slumber in the sky,
And Death himself shall die!

INTERNATIONAL ODE.

OUR FATHERS' LAND.

Sung in unison by twelve hundred children of the public schools, at the visit of the Prince of Wales to Boston, Oct. 18, 1860. Air, "God save the Queen."

GOD bless our Fathers' Land!

Keep her in heart and hand

One with our own!