Not thy own celestial sphere

Breathes sweeter music-Hark! I hear
My tuneful Summons to appear!

While beneath the moon's expanse
Nature sinks in solemn trance,
And the chantress of the night
Fills the groves with sad delight!
While blest spirits from above
Guard from peril those they love,
Whether on the land or deep
They in darkness watch or sleep,
We, upon the wings of wind,
Leave this weary world behind.

[Exeunt.

7 Plutarch (in enthusiasm a Platonist and in benevolence a Pythagorean!) believed that the genius of Socrates still warned him of approaching danger, and taught him to avoid it.

8 ""Tis an excellent world that we live in, To lend, and to spend, or to give in;

But to borrow or beg, or get a man's own,

"Tis the very worst world that ever was known."

嗍

THE STRANGER-GUEST.

THE STRANGER-GUEST.1

T was a sunny Sabbath morn, the spring-time of the year,

The earth look'd green and beautiful,

the sky look'd bright and clear, And softly blew the freshening breeze and sweetly rose the lay

Of feather'd woodland choristers blithe as the newborn day!

To *

Ere upon thy pillow thou

Shalt to-night compose thy brow
And to guardian saints commend
Parent, brother, sister, friend,
Let, once more, a lyre be heard
That of old thy bosom stirr'd.

Greet the Minstrel while thou may'st,

For he passeth on in haste,

Soon a higher, happier sphere

Will his solemn harpings hear!