31. THE COMING OF THE MESSIAH.

HAR

ARK! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers; Prepare the way! a God, a God appears! A God, a God! the vocal hills reply; The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity. Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies; Sink down, ye mountains; and, ye valleys, rise; With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay; Be smooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way! The Saviour comes, by ancient bards foretold! Hear Him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold! He from thick films shall the visual ray, purge And on the sightless eyeball pour the day: 'Tis He th' obstructed paths of sound shall clear, And bid new music charm th' unfolding ear: The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe. No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear; From every face He wipes off every tear: In adamantine chains shall Death be bound, And hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound. As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air; Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs; By day o'ersees them, and by night protects; The tender lambs he raises in his arms,

Feeds from his hand; and in his bosom warms; Thus shall mankind His guardian care engage,— The promised Father of the future age.

No more shall nation against nation rise, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,

Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o'er,
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more:
But useless lances into scythes shall bend,
And the broad falchion in a plough-share end.
The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead,
And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead:
The steer and lion at one crib shall meet,
And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet:
The smiling infant in his hand shall take
The crested basilisk and speckled snake;
Pleased, the

green lustre of the scales survey, And with their forky tongue shall innocently play.

POPE.

32. HE NEVER SMILED AGAIN.*

THE

HE bark which held a prince went down,
The sweeping waves roll'd on;

And what was England's glorious crown
To him that wept a son?

He lived for life may long be borne,
Ere sorrow break its chain;

Why comes not death to those who mourn?
He never smiled again!

There stood proud forms before his throne,
The stately and the brave;

But which could fill the place of one,

That one beneath the wave?

*It is recorded of Henry the First, that, after the death of his son, Prince William, who perished by shipwreck off the coast of Normandy, he was never seen to smile.

Before him pass'd the

young

and fair,

In pleasures reckless train;

But seas dash'd o'er his son's bright hair -
He never smiled again!

He sat where festal bowls went round;
He heard the minstrel sing;
He saw the tournay's victory crown'd
Amidst the knightly ring:

A murmur of the restless deep
Was blent with every strain,

A voice of winds that would not sleep-
He never smiled again !

Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace
Of vows once fondly pour'd,

And strangers took the kinsman's place
At many a joyous board;

Graves, which true love had bath'd with tears,
Were left to heaven's bright rain;

Fresh hopes were born for other years—
He never smiled again!

MRS. HEMANS.

33. THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.

FRI

RIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name,
Unless to few you stint the flame.

The child whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare who, in a civil way,
Complied with every thing, like Gay,

Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain:
Her care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.
As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy ground;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half dead with fear she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the horse appear'd in view!
"Let me," says she, “
your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight;
To friendship every burden's light.”
The horse replied, "Poor honest puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus:
Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear."
She next the stately bull implor'd;
And thus replied the mighty lord:
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may without offence pretend
To take the freedom of a friend;
Love calls me hence; a favourite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;

And, where a lady's in the case,
You know, all other things give place.
To leave you thus would seem unkind;
But see the goat is just behind."

The goat remark'd her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye;
"My back," says he, " may do you harm;
The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm.'

The sheep was feeble, and complain'd,
"His sides a load of wool sustain'd;
Said he was slow, confess'd his fears;
"For hounds eat sheep as well as hares."
She now the trotting calf address'd,
To save from death a friend distress'd.
"Shall I," says he, "of tender age,
In this important case engage ?
Older and abler pass'd you by;
How strong are those! how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
Excuse me, then; you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part!
How shall we all lament! Adieu !
For see, the hounds are just in view!"

GAY.

34. THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.

OF Nelson and the North,

Sing the glorious day's renown,

When to battle fierce came forth

All the might of Denmark's crown,

E