ANOTHER.

It is a sacred calm,

Nature looks forth from the eye of closing day, And on heart-feverish mortals strives to lay Her sweet and holy balm.

The moon behind the scene

Hath climb'd, and gazes on the shaded hill, Terraced with varying woods, so wildly still, And dark green spots between.

Silence might here her nest

Build undisturb'd-save waters stilly heard

At interval, and solitary bird
Singing herself to rest.

She stops-and still she sings,

And sings, O shame in such a scene
To think that storm is stirring now in men,
And gathering evil wings.

But truce to thoughts so drear,
'Twere treason against Nature's sacred smile,
Thou fiend of sly Rebellion, drop awhile
Thy mask-come and look here.

Sweet lesson here imprest,

Calm as the skies deep in the waters laid,

That Thou would'st have us walk 'neath Death's dim

shade,

Not cheerless or unblest.

But e'en from Nature's store

Gain happier thoughts our better hope to dress, And in subdued and silent lowliness

Lean on Thee-more and more.

THE OMNIPRESENT FRIEND.

Night's solitudes were hung on high,
The thought that One was walking nigh,
Came like the music of the sphere;

The sea-bird anchor'd without fear,

And weary men were in their sea-borne nest, All 'mid the dread immense seem'd slumbering on His breast.

At social hearth, where Love's meek balm
Was tempering with a holier calm

The mortal joy that wakes the tear—
'Twas Cana's Guest was sitting there;
And at the bed of widow'd eld rever'd,
I saw One sitting by, and seeing Him I fear'd.

If but content with Thee to be,
More near than mortal eye can see,
More near than mortal ear can hear,

Should we for ever feel Thee near ;

But bow'd to earthly schemes we wander on, Till raised on high we start to find ourselves alone.

Thus stray'd to some rock-crowning sod,
By nothing but the sunbeam trod,

Some heifer sees the evening close,

And to the herdsman tells her woes,

Calls from afar, and doubts not of His aid;

Happy ere all too late who find that they have stray'd!

EVIL OUT OF GOOD.

O heavenly Love, thy beaming look
Hath sternest shapes with beauty dight,
And oft relieved the darksome nook,

With neighbourhood of fairer light,
Till e'en each harsh and ruder sound
Into thy melodies is bound,

So blended hope with cries of want, That all may have a place in the celestial chaunt.

Thus have I seen in sabler tress,

A spirit that would all behold

In garbs of its own heaviness,

So set 'mid minds of sweeter mould, That on its darkness there were thrown The thoughts of gladness not its own, Like cypress dress'd with sunny dew,

Or crown'd with trailing flowers a dark unsmiling

yew.