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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 won

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, a pure 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 the Almighty name
Inscribed in characters of flame?

Count o'er these 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 :
Each is a world, by Him sustain'd
Who from eternity hath reign’d.

Each, kindled not for earth alone,
Hath circling planets of its own,
And beings, whose existence springs
From Him, the all-powerful King of kings.

Haply, those glorious beings know
No stain of guilt, or tear of woe ;
But, raising still the adoring voice,
For ever in their God rejoice.

What then art thou, O child of clay!
Amid creation's grandeur, say?
E’en as an insect on the breeze,
E’en as a dewdrop, 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! The all-seeing Eye,
Pervading earth, and air, and sky-
The searching glance which none may flee,
Is still in mercy turn'd on thee.

THE OCEAN.

“ They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.”—Psalm cvii. 23, 24.

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 rush'd along the shore

An army's chariot-wheels;

Of icebergs, floating o'er the main,

Or fix'd 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,

Form'd by an insect's power !

Of sea-fires, which at dead of night

Shine o'er the tides afar,
And make the expanse of ocean bright,

As heaven with many a star.

O 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 bid'st 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 hush'd, 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,

The 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-burst !-its rolling might

Seems the firm hills to shake;
And in terrific splendour bright

The gather'd lightnings break.

Yet fear not, shrink not thou, my child !

Though by the bolt's descent
Were the tall cliffs in ruins piled,

And the wide forests rent.

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