THE BIRD LET LOOSE.
AIR-Beethoven.

THE bird, let loose in Eastern skies,1
When hastening fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam.
But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,

Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.

So grant me, God, from every care,
And stain of passion free,
Aloft, through Virtue's purer air,
To hold my course to Thee!
No sin to cloud- -no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs ;-
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom in her wings!

O THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR.

AIR-- Haydn.

'He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.-Psalm cxlvii. 3.

O THOU who dry'st the mourner's
tear!

How dark this world would be,
If, when deceived and wounded here,
We could not fly to Thee.
The friends, who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes are flown:
And he, who has but tears to give,

Must weep those tears alone.
But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded
part,

Breathes sweetness out of woe.

When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And e'en the hope that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,

Is dimm'd and vanish'd too!
Oh! who would bear life's stormy doom,
Did not thy wing of love
Come, brightly wafting through the
gloom

Our peace-branch from above?
Then sorrow, touch'd by Thee, grows
bright

With more than rapture's ray;
As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day!

WEEP NOT FOR THOSE,

AIR-Avison.

WEEP not for those whom the veil of the tomb
In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes,
Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.
Death chill'd the fair fountain, ere sorrow had stain'd it,
'Twas frozen in all the pure light of its course,

And but sleeps, till the sunshine of heaven has unchain'd it,
To water that Eden, where first was its source !

Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb

In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes,

The carrier pigeon, it is well known, flies at an elevated pitch, in order to surmount every ob

stacle between her and the place to which she is destined.

Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.

Mourn not for her, the young bride of the vale,1
Our gayest and loveliest, lost to us now;
Ere life's early lustre had time to grow pale

And the garland of love was yet fresh on her brow;
Oh! then was her moment, dear spirit, for flying

From this gloomy world, while its gloom was unknown ;-
And the wild hymus she warbled so sweetly, in dying,
Were echo'd in heaven by lips like her own!
Weep not for her, -in her spring-time she flew

To that land where the wings of the soul are unfurl'd,
And now, like a star beyond evening's cold dew,
Looks radiantly down on the tears of this world.

THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT SHRINE.
AIR-Stevenson.

THE turf shall be my fragrant shrine;
My temple, Lord! that arch of thine;
My censer's breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.

My choir shall be the moonlight waves,
When murmuring homeward to their

caves,

Or when the stillness of the sea,

Where I shall read, in words of flame,
The glories of thy wondrous name.

I'll read thy anger in the rack
That clouds awhile the day-beam's
track;

Thy mercy in the azure hue

Of sunny brightness, breaking through!

E'en more than music, breathes of There's nothing bright, above, below,
Thee!
From flowers that bloom to stars that

I'll seek by day, some glade unknown,
All light and silence, like thy Throne !
And the pale stars shall be, at night,
The only eyes that watch my rite.
Thy heaven, on which 'tis bliss to look,
Shall be my pure and shining book,

1 This second verse, which I wrote long after the first, alludes to the fate of a very lovely and amiable girl, the daughter of the late Colonel Bainbrigge, who was married in Ashbourne Church, October 31, 1815, and died of a fever in a few weeks after. The sound of her marriage bells seemed scarcely out of our ears, when we

glow,

But in its light my soul can see
Some feature of thy deity!

There's nothing dark, below, above,
But in its gloom I trace thy love,
And meekly wait that moment, when
Thy touch shall turn all bright again!

heard of her death. During her last delirium, she sang several hymns in a voice even clearer and sweeter than usual, and among them were some from the present collection (particularly There's nothing bright but Heaven'), which this very interesting girl had often heard during the summer.

SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.

MIRIAM'S SONG.

AIR-Avison.1

'And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women vent out after her with timbrels and with dances.'-Exod. xv. 20.

SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah has triumph'd-his people are free.
Sing-for the pride of the tyrant is broken,

His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave,
How vain was their boasting!—the Lord hath but spoken,
And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah has triumph'd-his people are free.

Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord,

His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword!-
Who shall return to tell Egypt the story

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride?
For the Lord hath look'd out from his pillar of glory,2
And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah has triumph'd, his people are free.

GO, LET ME WEEP.

AIR-Stevenson.

Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears,
When he, who sheds them, inly feels
Some lingering stain of early years

Effaced by every drop that steals.
The fruitless showers of worldly woe
Fall dark to earth, and never rise;
While tears, that from repentance flow,
In bright exhalement reach the skies.
Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears,
When he, who sheds them, inly feels
Some lingering stain of early years

Effaced by every drop that steals.

Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew
More idly than the summer's wind,

'I have so altered the character of this air, which is from the beginning of one of Avison's old-fashioned concertos, that, without this acknowledgment, it could hardly, I think, be recognised.

And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw,

But left no trace of sweets behind.The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves Is cold, is faint, to those that swell The heart, where pure repentance grieves

O'er hours of pleasure, loved too well!

Leave me to sigh o'er days that flew

More idly than the summer's wind, And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw,

But left no trace of sweets behind.

2 And it came to pass, that in the morning watch, the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians.'Exod. xiv. 24.

COME NOT, O LORD!

AIR-Haydn.

COME not, O Lord! in the dread robe On Egypt thy pillar frown'd dark

of splendour

Thou wor'st on the Mount, in the day

of thine ire ! Come veil'd in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender,

Which Mercy flings over thy features of fire!

Lord! Thou rememb'rest the night, when thy nation1

Stood fronting her foe by the redrolling stream;

desolation,

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean,
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee;
My God! silent to Thee;
Pure, warm, silent to Thee.-

And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these.'-Exod. xiv. 20. My application

of this passage is borrowed from some late prose writer, whose name I am ungrateful enough to forget.

So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee!

As still, to the Star of its Worship, though clouded,
The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea,
So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded,
The hope of my spirit turns trembling to Thee;
My God! trembling to Thee;

True, fond, trembling to Thee !-

So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded,
The hope of my spirit turns trembling to Thee!

BUT WHO SHALL SEE.

AIR-Stevenson.

BUT who shall see the glorious day
When, throned on Zion's brow,
The Lord shall rend that veil away
Which hides the nations now!
When earth no more beneath the fear
Of His rebuke shall lie;
When pain shall cease, and every tear
Be wiped from every eye.

Then, Judah! thou no more shalt mourn
Beneath the heathen's chain;
Thy days of splendour shall return,
And all be new again.

The Fount of life shall then be quaffed
In peace by all who come!
And every wind that blows shall waft
Some long-lost exile home!

ALMIGHTY GOD!

CHORUS OF PRIESTS.
AIR-Mozart.

Without their flames,3 we wreathe the

ALMIGHTY GOD! when round Thy shrine | When round Thy cherubs, smiling calm The palm-tree's heavenly branch we twine,1

(Emblem of Life's eternal ray,
And Love that 'fadeth not away,')
We bless the flowers, expanded all,2
We bless the leaves that never fall,
And trembling say, 'In Eden thus
The Tree of Life may flower for us!

'The Scriptures having declared that the Temple of Jerusalem was a type of the Messiah, it is natural to conclude that the Palms, which made so conspicuous a figure in that structure, represented that Life and Immortality which were brought to light by the Gospel.'-Observations on the Palm as a sacred Emblem, by W. Tighe.

And he carved all the walls of the house round about with carved figures of cherubims,

palm,

Oh God! we feel the emblem true,—
Thy mercy is eternal too!

Those cherubs with their smiling eyes,
That crown of palm which never dies,
Are but the types of Thee above-
Eternal Life, and Peace, and Love!