Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each none, Heardst none, to none didst honour, but to God Thy great obeisance. Undiscovered Sea! Beyond the arm of help, unheard, unseen, And wondered still, and grasped, and grasped, and grasped Again; beyond her reach exerting all The soul, to take thy great idea in, To comprehend incomprehensible : And wondered more, and felt their littleness. Self-purifying, unpolluted Sea! Lover unchangeable, thy faithful breast For ever heaving to the lovely moon, That like a shy and holy virgin, robed In saintly white, walked nightly in the heavens, And to thy everlasting serenade Gave gracious audience; nor was wooed in vain. ROBERT POLLOK. WH Song of the Stars. HEN the radiant morn of creation broke, And the world in the smile of God awoke, And the empty realms of darkness and death Were moved through their depths by his mighty breath, And orbs of beauty and spheres of flame And this was the song the bright ones sang: "Away, away, through the wide, wide sky, Each sun with the worlds that round him roll, "For the source of glory uncovers his face, Lo, yonder the living splendours play; “Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar, In the infinite azure, star after star, How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass! How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass ! "And see where the brighter day-beams pour, "Away, away! in our blossoming bowers, "Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres, To the veil of whose brow your lamps are dim." W. C. BRYANT. Spring Sabbath Walk. MOST earnest was his voice! most mild his look, As with raised hands he blessed his parting flock. He is a faithful pastor of the poor ; He thinks not of himself; his Master's words, "Feed, feed my sheep!" are ever at his heart, The cross of Christ is before his eyes. aye Oh! how I love with melted soul to leave In summer-showers, that scarcely fill the folds The merle's dulcet pipe,―melodious bird! He, hid behind the milk-white sloe-thorn spray, (Whose early flowers anticipate the leaf), Welcomes the time of buds, the infant year. Sweet is the sunny nook to which my steps Have brought me, hardly conscious where I roamed, Unheeding where, so lovely all around The works of God arrayed in vernal smile. JAMES GRAHAME. Search after Eod. WEIGH me the fire; or canst thou find And taste thou them as saltless there, Tell me the motes, dusts, sands, and spears That rides the glorious cherubim. ROBERT HERRICK. Song of Praise for the Evening. OW, from the altar of my heart, Now, Let incense-flames arise: Assist me, Lord, to offer up Mine evening sacrifice. Awake, my love; awake, my joy; Awake my heart and tongue! Sleep not: when mercies loudly call, |