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O, 'tis a grand display!

ious wind seems bent on mischief;
o hinder the new splendour
possession of the time,
pon it; yet the scene
Ouses admiration,
and inspires amaze!
of people, that, even death
em, called for by the crushing!

chase the Tide of Even -s, and the caves of ocean?

ground where things of gloom

--song, in the deep of silenceshine, down in doubt and darkness?


To glorify the city,

do has now been done;

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Like precious stones, afire, set round the columns,
In sweet captivity hold all beholders!

The swelling dome is belted round with rays
Gleaming in crystal globes of gold and purple!
Along the walls run lines of living light,
Suggesting that wild lightnings have been tamed,
And told to grace the scene! Th' electric light
Glances its flashing eye from dizzy dome,

And strikes a course across the night afar!

The bonfires, like volcanoes, in full blaze,

Flap, with their fanning wings, the wondering


Swift rockets hiss, like serpents, up the air,
Startle the clouds, and scatter showers of stars!
And does this much impede the Tide of Even?
Much as a pebble may the mighty river,
Or downy feather hinder rushing wind!

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But cometh now the angel of reflection,-
Quietly cometh on the wings of thought,
Unto the thoughtful mind. With easy motion,
Like to the flow of sunshine through the window,

So doth he come; and in a gentle tone,—

A whisper sweetly suited to the time,

As mother, when her babe is sleeping, speaketh,

So speaketh he, and saith:

"The land of light

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1 other lands, and there
lds of truth-fair evermore,
- for all. There no strange spell
t may give the spirit grief.
pest of perverse discussion,
that realm. No sullen cloud

re disturbance,—or, for ever, How o'er the happy plains.”


-Day, and the illuminations of art hy the night cometh. Children, and fear not. Rest, a necessity. The Music at midnight.

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And loyal hearts and willing hands, provide; That fixed attention, call'd up admiration, Awaken'd wonder, and inspired amaze,— What did it more in any pleasant valley Of happy homes, fair halls, and flowery gardens; What more on any high, and flame-crown'd hill; In any town beside the flow of water; In any city on the rock of fame;

On any river, headland, shore, or ocean;
Or even in the' imperial capital-
What more than show itself?

Tell, in its flowing song, of daylight born?
Did any river
Did any mountain-top shout "Lo! the sun!"

Was any rose persuaded to reveal,

To passer by, the beauty of its bloom?

Did any lark leap up and

"It is-it is the presence of the morn ?" say, in song,

Did any daisy in the dewy meadow,

Open its eye and upward look-deceived?

Did the fields say "Behold! how fair our green ?"

Did any robin, in its place of hiding,

Give out a quiet warble, and declare


'Surely the morning cometh?" Surely No!

Yet, tell us, wherefore comes the Tide of Even,


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ven comes.

deeps, so solemn and so silent, ent ghost of pensive gloom, other from the room of mourning, her children. 'Tis for good It bringeth peace, se and sleep. The day hath war, ork and watching; but the night orm and thunder of the battle; mpest on the sea of life; ker from the whirr of wheels; m the shuttle and the loom; n his labour in the field; rom his hewing in the forest; 1 the dressing of the stone; n the wall of rising dwelling,t calls the sons of toil, me,-home, unto rest and sleep.

Tide of Even cometh ;le ones whose wandering feet re fancy led, along the fair ds of cheerfulness and song, ghts came, and home they, tired,

resent, were their minds engaged!
78 departed, sadly muse
ink those days would be no more ?

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