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The belief that some of these pieces have occasionally kindled the glow and warmed the piety of Christians in this and other lands, gives unalloyed pleasure. Several of them will be recognized as being enrolled with Zion's songs -not unknown in the sanctuary, nor strangers to the place of private devotion.

There are yet flowers in life's wilderness

That fling upon the air a sweet perfume,
And with the charm of Eden-loveliness

Sooth man's sojournings to the quiet tomb.
None live, so hopeless, abject and unknown
As nor to covet, nor to gather these.
They cluster every where, and round him still
Their presence throw, who seeks to be alone.

And yet their sweets no witchery have to please The proud, that careless pluck with wanton will. Fairest of lingerers in earth's sunny bowers;

The delicate, not found amid the throng

The pleasant solacer of hidden hours

Still, still be mine the Blossomings of Song.

POEM S.

THE NATIVITY.

JUDEA's plains in silence sleep
Beneath the cloudless midnight sky;
And o'er their flocks the shepherds keep
Kind watch, to David's city nigh:
That royal city!-nobler Guest
Is she awhile to entertain,
Than proudest monarch, whose behest
It is o'er earthly realms to reign:

By Him salvation is to mortals given,
On earth is shed the peerless noon of Heaven.

For see, along the deep blue arch

A glory breaks-and now a throng, From where the sparkling planets march, Come trooping down with shout and song; And o'er those pastures, bath'd in light, The sacred legions stay their wing, While on the wakeful ear of night,

Steals the rich hymn that Seraphs sing;

And sweetly thus the mellow accents ran, "Glory to God, Good Will and Peace to Man!"

B

TO THE STARS.

FAIR stars! upon the brow of night
Ye look, from yonder fields of blue,
Where ye, 'mid melody of light,
Bright wheeling worlds! your way pursue.

Ye never tire,-pure diadems,
The marshalled sentinels on high,
Ye shine, and ever shine, the gems
That fringe the curtain of the sky.

Minstrels are ye-your early song
Followed the Voice Omnipotent,
When light and music flowed along
Over the spangled firmament.

Ye stars! if aught 'tis yours to know,
Beyond your own returnless bourne,

With pity have ye not below

Glanced on these vales where mortals mourn?

O, as I scan your nightly march,
Your anthems steal upon mine ears;
As sprinkled o'er yon glittering arch,
Ye wake the music of the spheres.

'Tis fancy!-yet the empyrean strains Impart kind gilead to my breast;

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