Shall Sahara's parched ranger
Never taste the rivulet?

Still shall Christendom the stranger
In the Moorish gate forget?
While thy Dove of Mystery
Every where is flying,
Will not leaves of healing be
Sent to Afric, dying?

Where Cleopatra the pearl

Mingled, is thy pearl forbid? Shall not men the Cross unfurl

On the Pyramid !

May not upon night again

Open the immortal morn, Where Cyprian taught, and Origen Adorned the priestly lawn? May not hamlets that festoon, Beautifully, Niger's flood, With Alexandria and Wednoon, Be given unto God?

On the coast of nations, look!
Where deceitful beams prevail-

Shall they not, at thy rebuke,
Pale, as stars at morning pale?
Wilt Thou not awake the dead?
Captive lead captivity —

May not Ethiopia spread

Heart and hand to Thee !

May not, for the cries that went
Skyward, be the hymn of bliss?
May not bloom a continent
Where was only oasis !

WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD.

I hear the voice

Of the expecting grave. - Martyr of Antioch.

THE grave hath voice, and seems to say,
Weep ye who on my surface tread,
Condemned to bear the heat of day —
But weep not for the slumbering dead.
Weep ye for those for whom no tear

Is given, the sorrowing, the distressed, The troubled, whom there's none to cheer,But not for him that is at rest.

Weep for the living wretch, whose sighs
Go up for loss of friend and lover;
For him that as survivor dies,

Not him whose parting pangs are over.
Weep for the living ; — he's alone ;·

Few are the living; who may know How few, compared to the unknown Nations of men that sleep below!

Weep for the sufferer who is tost
On restless seas of pain and ill;
But not for him who, having crossed
The ocean, rides secure and still.
Weep for the sinner, sadder far!
Who wanders in the depths of night;
But not for him on whom the star
Of morning trembles out in light.

Weep, weep for her who comes to weep Where her sweet infant lies full low; Not for the spark whose upward leap Hath made it flame with cherubs so! Weep for the prisoner, for the heir

Of misery, toil, and tears and pain; But not for those, escaped, who share Immortal joys, undying gain.

BEAUTY.

Thus she stood amid the stooks,
Praising God with sweetest looks. - Ruth.

MODEST Beauty praises God,

When it sends its glance abroad,
With a look of cheerfulness;
Beauty doth the Giver bless,
When its roses show the hue
Of bright health, with lip of dew,

And religion of a face
Where is written all of grace.
What a holy hymn is ever

With a sweet expression blent!
Sending music up, which never
Skilless, soulless Art hath sent;
Rend'ring worship, such as we
In the lines of Beauty see.
From the eye of diadems,

From the mouth of pearls and gems,
From the smile of calm delight-
Beaming intellectual light, —

From the nameless, charming whole
That holds empire in the soul—
Doth in harmony arise
Beauty's homage to the skies.

A SIMILE.

In the dew-drop you behold

Myriad splendors merged in one; Showing, like a sea of gold,

All the glories of the sun.

Man, before the throne above, Where no sinful foot hath trod, Thus reflects the perfect love

Of the awful, glorious God.

KNOW

THE HEAVENLY REST.

ye the earth, on which ye tread, Is a pleasant garden, merrily spread

With fruits of the best, with earliest flowers, Dimpled with dells and decked with bowers,That the saint, nigh to faint, may rest him there, And the heart may part with its griefs in prayer; And taste those draughts of the ravishing love That flows in the bosoms of the blest above?

Know ye the earth, so pleasant to-day,
Will pass, with its fruits and flowers, away?
That its best and earliest show in their bloom
The blight of death, and decay of the tomb,-
And the light so bright to the dazzled eye,
Which gleams and streams on its morning sky,
Will fade as the cloud that twilight sees

Melt from the heavens with evening's breeze -
And the peace which the pilgrim sought to know,
He learns, in his sorrow, is not below?

Know ye there remaineth a heavenly rest
For the weary one, and the care-opprest.
That ye need not seek it on earth abroad,
'Tis barren of bliss for the sons of God,-
That the saint will faint in its path of care,
And sigh and die, who rests him there;