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Years o'er his snowy head have past,
And left him of his race the last;
Alone on earth, but yet his mien
Is bright with majesty serene;

And those high hopes, whose guiding star
Shines from eternal worlds afar,

Have with that light illumed his eye,

Whose fount is immortality,

And o'er his features poured a ray
Of glory not to pass away.
He seems a being who hath known
Communion with his God alone.

On earth by nought but pity's tie,
Detained a moment from on high;
One to sublimer worlds allied,
One from all passion purified.

E'en now half-mingled with the sky,
And all prepared, oh! not to die,
But, like the prophet, to aspire
To heaven's triumphant car of fire.

FELICIA HEMANS.

The Motto of the Perfect Man. "EQUAL to either fortune!" This should be

The motto of the perfect man and true—

Striving to stem the billow fearlessly,

And keeping steadily the right in view,
Whether it be his lot in life to sail
Before an adverse or a prosperous gale.

Man fearlessly his voice for truth should raise, When truth would force its way in deed or word;

Whether for him the popular voice of praise,

Or the cold sneer of unbelief is heard: Like the First Martyr, when his voice arose Distinct above the hisses of his foes.

"Equal to either fortune," Heaven designs, Whether his destiny be repose or toil— Whether the sun upon his palace shines,

Or calls him forth to plant the furrowed soil: So shall he find life's blessings freely strewn Around the peasant's cottage as the throne.

Man should dare all things which he knows are right,

And fear to do no act save what is wrong; But, guided safely by his inward light,

And with a permanent belief, and strong, In Him who is our Father and our friend, He should walk steadfastly unto the end.

Ready to live or die, even in that day

Which man from childhood has been taught to fear,

When, putting off its cumbrous weight of clay, The spirit enters on a nobler sphere:

And he will be, whose life was rightly passed, Equal to either fortune" at the last.

66

PHOEBE CAREY.

The Lord of all, Himself through all

THE

Diffused.

Lord of all, Himself through all diffused, Sustains, and is the life of all that lives.

Nature is but a name for an effect,

Whose cause is God.

He feeds the sacred fire

By which the mighty process is maintained;
Who sleeps not, is not weary; in whose sight
Slow circling ages are as transient days;
Whose work is without labour; whose designs
No flaw deforms, no difficulty thwarts;
And whose beneficence no charge exhausts.
Him blind antiquity profaned, not served,
With self-taught rites, and under various names,
Female and male: Pomona, Pales, Pan,
And Flora, and Vertumnus; peopling earth
With tutelary goddesses and gods,

That were not; and commending as they would
To each some province, garden, field, or grove.
But all are under one. One Spirit-his,

Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows,
Rules universal nature. Not a flower

But shows some touch in freckle, streak, or stain,
Of his unrivalled pencil. He inspires
Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues,
And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes,
In grains as countless as the sea-side sands,
The forms in which He sprinkles all the earth.
Happy who walks with Him! whom what he
finds,

Of flavour or of scent, in fruit or flower,
Of what he views of beautiful or grand
In nature, from the broad majestic oak
To the green blade that twinkles in the sun,
Prompts with remembrance of a present God.
His presence, who made all so fair, perceived,
Makes all still fairer. As with Him no scene
Is dreary, so with Him all seasons please.
Though winter had been none, had man been true,
And earth be punished for its tenants' sake,
Yet not in vengeance, as this smiling sky,
So soon succeeding such an angry night,
And these dissolving snows, and this clear stream,
Recovering fast its liquid music, prove.

WILLIAM COWPER.

The Friend in Need.

NE there is, above all others,

ONE

Well deserves the name of Friend;

His is love beyond a brother's,
Costly, free, and knows no end!
They who once His kindness prove,
Find it everlasting love.

Which of all our friends, to save us,

Could or would have shed his blood?

But our Jesus died to have us

Reconcil'd in Him to God:

This was boundless love indeed!
Jesus is a friend in need.

When He liv'd on earth abased,

Friend of sinners was His name; Now, above all glory raised,

He rejoices in the same:

Still He calls them Brethren, Friends,
And to all their wants attends.

Could we bear from one another
What He daily bears from us?
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother
Loves us though we treat Him thus !
Though for good we render ill,
He accounts us brethren still.

Oh! for grace our hearts to soften ;
Teach us, Lord, at length to love;
We, alas! forget too often

What a friend we have above:

But, when home our souls are brought,
We will love Thee as we ought.

NEWTON.

THE

The World.

HE world with stones, instead of bread,
Our hungry souls has often fed;

It promised health,-in one short hour
Perished the fair but fragile flower;
It promised riches,-in a day

They made them wings and fled away;
It promised friends,-all sought their own,
widowed heart alone.

And left

my

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