THE STRANGER'S HEART.

THE stranger's heart! Oh! wound it not
A yearning anguish is its lot;

In the green shadow of thy tree,
The stranger finds no rest with thee.

Thou think'st the vine's low rustling leaves
Glad music round thy household eaves;
To him that sound hath sorrow's tone-
The stranger's heart is with his own.

Thou think'st thy children's laughing play
A lovely sight at fall of day;-
Then are the stranger's thoughts oppressed-

His mother's voice comes o'er his breast.
Thou think'st it sweet when friend with friend
Beneath one roof in prayer may blend;
Then doth the stranger's eye grow dim-
Far, far are those who prayed with him.
Thy hearth, thy home, thy vintage land—
The voices of thy kindred band—
Oh! 'midst them all when blest thou art,
Deal gently with the stranger's heart!

COME HOME.

COME home!-there is a sorrowing breath
In music since ye went,

And the early flower-scents wander by,
With mournful memories blent.
The tones in every household voice
Are grown more sad and deep,

And the sweet word-brother-wakes a wish
To turn aside and weep.

O ye Beloved! come home!-the hour
Of many a greeting tone,
The time of hearth-light and of song,
Returns and ye are gone!
And darkly, heavily it falls

On the forsaken room,
Burdening the heart with tenderness,

That deepens 'midst the gloom.

Where finds it you, ye wandering ones?
With all your boyhood's glee
Untamed, beneath the desert's palm,
Or on the lone mid-sea?
By stormy hills of battles old?

Or where dark rivers foam?
-Oh! life is dim where ye are not-
Back, ye beloved, come home!

Come with the leaves and winds of spring,
And swift birds, o'er the main!
Our love is grown too sorrowful--
Bring us its youth again!

Fill with forgetfulness, fill high !—yet stay-
-'T is from the past we shadow forth the land
Where smiles, long lost, again shall light our way,
And the soul's friends be wreath'd in one bright band:
-Pour the sweet waters back on their own rill,
I must remember still.

For their sake, for the dead-whose image nought
May dim within the temple of my breast-
For their love's sake, which now no earthly thought
May shake or trouble with its own unrest,
Though the past haunt me as a spirit,—yet
I ask not to forget.

INTRODUCTORY VERSES.

OH! blest art thou, whose steps may rove
Through the green paths of vale and grove,
Or, leaving all their charms below,
Climb the wild mountain's airy brow;

And gaze afar o'er cultured plains,
And cities with their stately fanes,
And forests, that beneath thee lie,
And ocean mingling with the sky.

For man can show thee nought so fair,
As Nature's varied marvels there;
And if thy pure and artless breast
Can feel their grandeur, thou art blest!
For thee the stream in beauty flowe,
For thee the gale of summer blows,
And, in deep glen and wood-walk free,
Voices of joy still breathe for thee.

But happier far, if then thy soul
Can soar to Him who made the whole,
If to thine eye the sin.plest flower
Portray His bounty and His power.

If, in whate'er is bright or grand,
Thy mind can trace His viewless hand,
If Nature's music bid thee raise
'Thy song of gratitude and praise;

It heaven and earth, with beauty fraught
Lead to his throne thy raptured thought,
If there thou lov'st His love to read,
Then, wanderer, thou art blest indeed.

THE RAINBOW.

I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of. a covenant between me and the earth.

Genesis ix. 13.

SOFT falls the mild, reviving shower
From April's changeful skies,
And rain-drops bend each trembling flower
They tinge with richer dyes.

Soon shall their genial influence call
A thousand buds to day,

Which, waiting but their balmy fall,
In hidden beauty lay.

E'en now full many a blossom's bell
With fragrance fills the shade!
And verdure clothes each grassy dell,

In brighter tints arrayed.

But mark! what arch of varied hue

From heaven to earth is bowed? Haste, ere it vanish, haste to view The Rainbow in the cloud.

How bright its glory! there behold

The emerald's verdant rays, The topaz blends its hue of gold

With the deep ruby's blaze.

Yet not alone to charm thy sight

Was given the vision fair;—
Gaze on that arch of coloured light,
And read God's mercy there.

It tells us that the mighty deep,
Fast by th' Eternal chained,
No more o'er earth's domains shall sweep
Awful and unrestrained.

It tells that seasons, heat and cold,
Fixed by his sovereign will,
Shall, in their course, bid man behold
Seed-time and harvest still;

That still the flower shall deck the field,
When the vernal zephyrs blow;
That still the vine its fruit shall yield,
When autumn sun-beams glow.

Then, child of that fair earth! which yet
Smiles with each charm endowed,
Bless thou His name, whose mercy set
The Rainbow in the cloud!

THE SUN.

THE Sun comes forth;-each mountain height Glows with a tinge of rosy light,

And flowers that slumbered through the night,
Their dewy leaves unfold;

A flood of splendour bursts on high,
And ocean's breast reflects a sky
Of crimson and of gold.

Oh! thou art glorious, orb of day!
Exulting nations hail thy ray,
Creation swells a choral lay,

To welcome thy return;

From thee all nature draws her hues,
Thy beams the insect's wings suffuse,

And in the diamond burn.

Yet must thou fade;-when earth and heaven By fire and tempest shall be riven,

Thou, from thy sphere of radiance driven,

Oh Sun! must fall at last;

Another heaven, another earth,
Far other glory shall have birth.
When all we see is past.

But He, who gave the word of might,
"Let there be light"-and there was light,
Who bade thee chase the gloom of night,
And beam, the world to bless;-

For ever bright, for ever pure,

Alone unchanging shall endure,
The Sun of righteousness!

THE RIVERS.

Go! trace th' unnumbered streams, o'er earth
That wind their devious course,
That draw from Alpine heights their birth,
Deep vale, or cavern source.

Some by majestic cities glide,

Proud scenes of man's renown,

Some lead their solitary tide,

Where pathless forests frown.
Some calmly roll in golden sands,

Where Afric's deserts lic!
Or spread, to clothe rejoicing lands
With rich fertility.

S

There bear the bark, whose stately sail
Exulting seems to swell;
While these, scarce rippled by a gale,

Sleep in the lonely dell.

Yet on, alike, though swift or slow
Their various waves may sweep,
Through cities or through shades they flow
To the same boundless deep.

Oh! thus, whate'er our path of life

Through sunshine or through gloom,
Through scenes of quiet or of strife,
Its end is still the tomb.

The chief, whose mighty deeds we hail,
The monarch throned on high,
The peasant in his native vale,
All journey on-to die!

But if Thy guardian care, my God!
The pilgrim's course attend,

I will not fear the dark abode,
To which my footsteps bend.

For thence thine all-redeeming Son,
Who died, the world to save,
In light, in triumph, rose, and wo.1
The victory from the grave!

THE STARS.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handy work.

Psalm xix. 1.

No cloud obscures the summer sky,
The moon in brightness walks on high,
And, set in azure, every star
Shines, like a gem of heaven, afar!

Child of the earth! oh! lift thy glance
To yon bright firmament's expanse;
The glories of its realm explore,
And gaze, and wonder, and adore!

Doth it not speak to every sense
The marvels of Omnipotence?
Seest thou not there th' Almighty name,
Inscribed in characters of flame?

Count o'er those lamps of quenchless light,
That sparkle through the shades of night!
Behold them!-can a mortal boast
To number that celestial host?

Mark well each little star, whose rays

In distant splendour meet thy gaze,
Fach is a world by Him sustained,
Who from eternity hath reigned.

Each, shining not for earth alone,
Hath suns and plancts of its own,
And beings, whose existence springs

From Him, th' all-powerful King of kings.

Haply, those glorious beings know
Nor stain of guilt, nor tear of wo!
But raising still th' adoring voice,
For ever in their God rejoice.

What then art thou, oh! child of clay!
Amid creation's grandeur, say?
-E'en as an insect on the breeze,
E'en as a dew-drop, lost in seas!

Yet fear thou not!-the sovereign hand,
Which spread the ocean and the land,
And hung the rolling spheres in air,
Hath, e'en for thee, a Father's care!

Be thou at peace!—th' all-seeing eye,
Pervading earth, and air, and sky,
The searching glance which none may flee,
Is still, in mercy, turned on thee.

He that in venturous barks hath been

A wanderer on the deep,

Can tell of many an awful scene,

Where storms for ever sweep.

For many a fair majestic sight

Hath met his wandering eye, Beneath the streaming northern light, Or blaze of Indian sky.

Go! ask him of the whirlpool's roar,

Whose echoing thunder peals
Loud, as if rushed along the shore
An army's chariot wheels;
Of icebergs, floating o'er the main,
Or fixed upon the coast,
Like glittering citadel or fane,
'Mid the bright realms of frost;

Of coral rocks from waves below
In steep ascent that tower,
And fraught with peril, daily grow,
Formed by an insect's power;

Of sea-fires, which at dead of night
Shine o'er the tides afar,

And make th' expanse of ocean bright
As heaven, with many a star.

Oh God! thy name they well may praise,
Who to the deep go down,

And trace the wonders of thy ways,
Where rocks and billows frown.

If glorious be that awful deep,

No human power can bind, What then art Thou, who bidst it keep Within its bounds confined!

Let heaven and earth in praise unite,
Eternal praise to Thee,

Whose word can rouse the tempest's might,
Or still the raging sea!

THE THUNDER STORM.

DEEP, fiery clouds o'ercast the sky,
Dead stillness reigns in air,

There is not e'en a breeze, on high
The
gossamer to bear.

The woods are hushed, the waves at rest,
The lake is dark and still,
Reflecting, on its shadowy breast,

Each form of rock and hill.

The lime-leaf waves not in the grove,

Nor rose-tree in the bower;

The birds have ceased their songs of love, Awed by the threatening hour.

'Tis noon;-yet Nature's calm profound Seems as at midnight deep;

-But hark! what peal of awful sound
Breaks on creation's sleep?

The thunder bursts!-its rolling might
Seems the firm hills to shake;
And in terrific splendour bright,

The gathered lightnings break

Yet fear not, shrink thou not, my child!
Though by the bolt's descent
Were the tall cliffs in ruins piled,
And the wide forests rent.

Doth not thy God behold thee still,
With all-surveying eye?

Doth not his power all nature fill,
Around, beneath, on high?

Know, hadst thou eagle-pinions free,

To track the realms of air, Thou couldst not reach a spot where He Would not be with thee there!

In the wide city's peopled towers,
On the vast ocean's plains,

'Midst the deep woodland's loneliest bowers, Alike th' Almighty reigns!

TRIBES of the air! whose favoured race
May wander through the realms of space,
Free guests of earth and sky;

In form, in plumage, and in song,
What gifts of nature mark your throng
With bright variety!

Nor differ less your forms, your flight,
Your dwellings hid from hostile sight,
And the wild haunts ye love;
Birds of the gentle beak!* how dear
Your wood-note, to the wanderer's ear,
In shadowy vale or grove!

Far other scenes, remote, sublime,
Where swain or hunter may not climb,

The mountain-eagle seeks;
Alone he reigns, a monarch there,
Scarce will the Chamois' footstep dare
Ascend his Alpine peaks.

Others there are, that make their home
Where the white billows roar and foam,

Around th' o'erhanging rock;
Fearless they skim the angry wave,
Or sheltered in their sea-beat cave,
The tempest's fury mock.

Where Afric's burning realm expands,
The ostrich haunts the desert sands,
Parched by the blaze of day;
The swan, where northern rivers glide,
Through the tall reeds that fringe their tide,
Floats graceful on her way.

The condor, where the Andes tower,
Spreads his broad wing of pride and power,
And many a storm defies;
Bright in the orient realms of morn,
All beauty's richest hues adorn

The Bird of Paradise.

Some, amidst India's groves of palm, And spicy forests breathing balm,

The Lalia's call all singing birds, Birds of the gentle veah.

Weave soft their pendent nest; Some, deep in western wilds, display Their fairy form and plumage gay,

In rainbow colours drest.

Others no varied song may pour,
May boast no eagle-plume to soar,
No tints of light may wear;
Yet, know, our Heavenly Father guides
The least of these, and well provides
For each, with tenderest care.

Shall He not then thy guardian be?
Will not his aid extend to thee?

Oh! safely may'st thou rest!
Trust in his love, and e'en should pain,
Should sorrow tempt thee to complain,
Know, what He wills is best!

THE SKY LARK.

THE Sky-lark, when the dews of morn
Hang tremulous on flower and thorn,
And violets round his nest exhale
Their fragrance on the early gale,
To the first sunbeam spreads his wings,
Buoyant with joy, and soars, and sings.

He rests not on the leafy spray,
To warble his exulting lay,
But high above the morning cloud
Mounts in triumphant freedom proud,
And swells, when nearest to the sky,
His notes of sweetest ecstacy.

Thus, my Creator! thus the more My spirit's wing to Thee can soar, The more she triumphs to behold Thy love in all thy works unfold, And bids her hymns of rapture be Most glad, when rising most to Thee.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

WHEN twilight's gray and pensive hour
Brings the low breeze, and shuts the flower
And bids the solitary star
Shine in pale beauty from afar;

When gathering shades the landscape veil,
And peasants seek their village-dale,
And mists from river-wave arise,
And dew in every blossom lies;

When evening's primrose opes, to shed
Soft fragrance round her grassy bed;
When glow-worms in the wood-walk light
Their lamp, to cheer the traveller's sight ·