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The birds sing to him from the sunny tree,
To rise all rosy from the arms of sleep,
And, like the sky-bird, hail the bright-cheek'd morn
That waves have buried in a sea-shell's depth;
The scene hath chang'd into a curtain'd room,
Of sinless babes, imparadis'd above.
ROMANS, XI. 23, 24.
O ISRAEL! happy in the days of yore,
Disdains the tear of Christian sympathy,
And thy proud heart revolts yet more and more,
The Power that smites thee turns our hearts to
We long to lead thee to the peaceful shore,
And see thee blessed, sanctified, and free! Who would not mourn for thee? to whom consign'd Heaven's blessed oracles so long have been? Who would not weep, if thou, the only blind, Reject the beamings of that light serene? And would not pray the Hand divine to see Grafting the natural branch on its own olive tree?
MISS EMILY TAYLOR.
OH! waste not thou the smallest thing,
Created by Divinity;
For grains of sand the mountains make,
Waste thou not then the smallest time,
'Tis imbecile infirmity;
For well thou knowest, if aught thou knowest,
That seconds form eternity.
MOONLIGHT ON THE PERSIAN GULF.
'Tis moonlight over Oman's Sea 1;
And her blue waters sleep in smiles.
Bidding the bright eyed sun farewell; —
The peaceful sun, whom better suits
Ths music of the bulbul's nest, 4
All hush'd there's not a breeze in motion;
Nor leaf is stirr'd nor wave is driven;
The Persian Gulf, so called from the Arabian province of that name, which extends along its coast.
2 The present Gombaroon.
A Moorish instrument of music.
5 At Gombaroon, and other places in Persia, they have towers for the purpose of catching the wind, and cooling the houses.
As the stern grandeur of a Gothic tower
And, with a brother's warmth, a brother's smile,
But wins the heart, and wakes the social sigh,
But these pure joys the world can never know;
From hanging wood, brown heath, and bushy dell!
So oft the finer movements of the soul,
THE GREEK AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
THE cypresses at Scutari1
In stern magnificence look down
It is a wilderness of tombs,
Where white and gold and brilliant hue
So far, yet strikes the listening ear,
Of millions calmly sleeping here?
1 A town on the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, facing Constantinople, of which it may be considered as a suburb. The magnificent cemetery, planted with cypresses, extends three miles over the plain, and is the favourite burying-place of the Turks of Constantinople. The Turkish tombs are very beautiful, of white marble, covered with verses from the Koran in gilt letters on a dark blue ground: the nature of the carved turban at the head denotes the rank of the deceased. Women's monuments are distinguished by a lotus leaf painted on them. Some graves are covered with marble troughs filled with mould to grow flowers in; nor is it uncommon, in Turkish cities, to see them covered with wire trellis, in which to keep birds, whose notes are supposed to solace the departed spirit. The deep solemnity of this vast forest of cypresses at Scutari, impenetrable alike to sun or gale, cannot be imagined. Paved roads intersect it in various directions. From the heights of Scutari is one of the finest views of Constantinople. 2 The country houses of the Turks.