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that splendid assembly, I and prevented all common acclamations of triumph.

The anthem of Te Deum laudamus,a | chanted by the choir of the royal chapel, | with the melodious accompaniments of the instruments, rose up from the midst, | in a full body of sacred harmony, bearing up, as it were, the feelings and thoughts of the auditors to heaven, “so that," says the venerable Las Casas, | “it seemed as if in that hour they communicated with celestial delights." | Such was the solemn and pious manner in which the brilliant court of Spain, / celebrated this sublime event: | offering up a grateful tribute of melody and praise ; | and giving glory to God for the discovery of another world.

When Columbus retired from the royal presence, he was attended to his residence by all the court, and followed by the shouting populace. ! For many days he was the object of universal curiosity, / and wherever he appeared, he was surrounded by an admiring multi

tude. I


[From the Russian Anthology.]


O Thou eter'nal One !, whose presence bright'
All space doth occupy, | all motion guide; |
Unchang'd through time's all-devastating flightı; |
Thou only God!! There is no God beside ! |
Being above all' beings! Mighty One!
Whom none can comprehend, and none explores ; |
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone : 1
Embracing all — support'ing - ruling o'er - - 1
Being whom we call God | and know no more ! |

a We praise Thee, God.

In its sublime research, philosophy
May measure out the o'cean-deep - | may count
The sands, or the sun's rays — but, God! | for Thee
There is no weight, nor meas ure :/ none can mount
Up to Thy mysteries. Reason's brightest spark,
Though kindled by Thy light, | in vain would try
To trace Thy counsels, infinite, and dark;
And thought is lost' | ere thought can soar so high', ||
E'en like past moments in eternity: 1

| all

Thou from primeval noth'ingness, didst call |
First chaos, | then existence | Lord, on Thee
Eternity had its foundation :
Sprung forth from Thee of light, I joy, harmony,
Sole origin : | all life', | all beauty , Thine.
Thy word created all', '| and doth create ; |
Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine.
Thou artı, | and wert', ] and shalt be !| Glorious !)

Greatı ! |
Life'-giving, life-sustaining Potentatea ! |

Thy chains the unmeasur'd universe surround : /
Upheld by Thee, | by Thee inspir'd with breathi :/
Thou the beginning with the endi hast bound, |
And beautifully mingled life, and death ! |
As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze', |
So suns' are born ;/ so worlds spring forth from Thee: |
And, as the spangles in the sunny rays
Shine round the silver snow, the pageantryb
Of heaven's bright army, / glitters in Thy praise.* |

a Po'tén-tate; not po'tn-tate.

b Påd'džůn-tre. *“The force of this simile,” says Bowring, in his Specimens of the Russian Poets, “can hardly be imagined by those who have never witnessed the sun shining, with unclouded splendour, in a cold of twenty or thirty degrees of Reaumur. A thousand, and ten thousand sparkling stars of ice, brighter than the brightest diamond, play on the surface of the frozen snow ; and the slightest breeze sets myriads of icy atoms in motion, whose glancing light, and beautiful rainbow hues, dazzle and weary the eye.”

A million torches, lighted by Thy hand,
Wander unwearied through the blue abyss : /
They own Thy power, | accomplish Thy command,
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss. I
What shall we call them? | Piles of crystal lighť', |
A glorious company of golden streamsı,
Lamps of celestial e'ther, burning bright |
Suns, lighting systems with their joyous beamsı ? |
But Thou to these art as the noon to night. I

Yes', as a drop of water in the sea', i
All this magnificence in Thee is lost |
What are ten thousand worlds' compar'd to Theer? |
And what am I then? | Heaven's unnumber'd host, I
Though multiplied by myr'iads, | and array'd
In all the glory of sublimest thought,
Is but an at'oma in the balance, weigh'd
Against Thy greatness— | is a cypher brought
Against infinity! What am I then? | Nought!|

Noughť !, But the effluence of Thy light divine, |
Pervading worlds, hath reach'd my bo som too; |
Yesi! in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine,
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.
Nought' ! | but I live, and on hope's pinions fly
Eager towards Thy presence ; for in Thee
I live!, | and breathe', | and dwellı;aspiring high', |
E'en to the throne of Thy divinity.
I am, O God !| and surely Thoù must be ! |

Thou artı! directing, guiding all, Thou art' !
Direct my understanding, then, to Thees;
Control my spirit, | guide my wandering heart :/
Though but an atoma midst immensity, |

a But an atom ; not but-tar-nat'tom.

Still I am something fashion'd by Thy hand, !|
I hold a middle rank ’twixt heaven, and earth', I
On the last verge of mortal being stand', i
Close to the realms where angels have their birth, |
Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land !

The chain of being is complete in me, -1
In me is matter's last gradation lost;
And the next step is spirit- | Deity ! |
I can command the light'ning, | and am dusti ! |
A mon’arch, | and a slave ; | a worm, | a God, !|
Whence came I here? | and how so marvellously
Constructed, and conceiv'dı ? | unknown. I. This clod
Lives surely through some higher energy; |
For, from itself alone, I it could not be !

Creator, yesı!| Thy wisdom, and Thy word
Created me!| Thou source of life, and goodi ! |
Thou spirit of my spirit, | and my Lordi ! |
Thy light, | Thy love, in their bright plenitude, I
Fill’d me with an immortal soul | to spring
O'er the abyss of death, and bade it wear
The garments of eternal day, and wing
Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere,
E’en to its source - to Theel | its Author there. I

O thoughts inef'fable!! O visions blesti!
Though worthless, our conceptions all of Theer ; |
Yet shall Thy shadow'd image fill our breast, I
And waft its homage to Thy Deity. |
God, thus alone my lowly thoughts can soart; |
Thus seek Thy presence, | Being wise, and good, !|
Midst Thy vast works admirer, obey', adore;
And, when the tongue is eloquent no more,
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude. |


Woman, Dr.

Oh, the woe that woman brings ! |

Source of sorrow, grief and pain !| All our evils have their springs, I

In the first of female train. I

Eve by eating led poor Adam |

Out of Eden, and astray ; |
Look for sorrow still where Madam, |

Pert and proud, directs the way. I

Courtship is a slavish pleasure,

Soothing a coquettish train ; | Wedded—what the mighty treasure ? |

Doom'd to drag a golden chain. I

Noisy clack and constant brawling,

Discord and domestic strife ; Empty cupboard, children bawling,

Scolding woman made a wife. |

Gaudy dress and haughty carriage, I

Love's fond balance fled and gone; | These, the bitter fruits of marriage !

He that's wise will live alone ! |

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