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When night with wings of stormy gloom,
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumber'd eyes,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.

MOORE.

FORGET ME NOT!

FORGET me not! Forget me not!
Thou utterest, Lord, from earth or skies,
In glittering glory-rainbow dyes;
And every breeze that sheds a balm
On morning's joy or evening's calm,
In open glade or lonely spot,
Maintains a tongue to tell thy power,
And whispers in thy name each hour,
Forget me not! Forget me not!

Forget me not! Forget me not!

Thou say'st through fragrance, beauty, bloom,
Charming the heart in this deep gloom;
The sun's bright ray-the starry gleam,
And the mild moonlight's tender beam,
On many a wave, in many a grot,
And all the sights and sounds that move
O'er earth, or sea, will speak of love,
And ever say-Forget me not!
Forget me not! Forget me not!
The record of thy will doth say,
Revealing Thee in glory's ray,

On Sinai's mount, with justice crown'd,
Throwing thy awful thunders round;

But most, when pitying the hard lot Of man, thy Son rejoiced to die

Upon the Mount of Calvary,

Thy voice was heard-Forget me not! Merciful God! forget us not,

When sinking through the weight of woe,
But round us the remembrance throw
Of every promise, long imparted
Unto the wrong'd and broken-hearted;
And deign, oh! deign to give us what
No earthly powers can e'er invade,
And darkest hours can never shade-

Thy light and peace,-Forget us not!
Forget us not! Forget us not!
In that drear hour when tyrant death
Shall gripe this form, and stop its breath;
Oh! in each struggling throe that clay
Feels when the soul is wrench'd away,
And it is left for earth to rot,
Look down in mercy-Lord, be nigh,
To curb the dying agony;

We are but dust-Forget us not!

W. MARTIN.

PRAISE TO THE CREATOR.

PRAISE THE LORD, in earth and heaven,
Men and angels, now adore;
Heaven is open'd-man forgiven;

Praise OUR SAVIOUR evermore.
Praise him, thunders, proudly stalking
Like huge giants through the sky;
Praise him, clouds and shadows, walking
With the armed lightnings by.

Praise him, vast and mighty ocean,
With the storm thy music raise ;
Praise him in thy constant motion,

Shout, in tempests, still his praise.
Praise him, rivers, ebbing, flowing,
Clap your hands in jocund glee;
Praise him, winds, when gently blowing
O'er the earth and o'er the sea.

Praise him, suns and systems, wheeling
Through the range of boundless space;
Power confessing, love revealing,

To some other favour'd race.

Praise him, stars of earth, sweet flowers,
Let your fragrance softly rise;
Sunny nooks, and shady bowers,
Give forth incense to the skies.

Praise him gladly, joyous nature,
Praise him, low and creeping thing;
Bless him, love him, every creature,
For he is your Lord and King.

Praise him, Man, for thy salvation,
He from heaven, to bless thee, came;
Praise him, every tribe and nation,

Laud and magnify his name.

W. MARTIN.

GOD THE INFINITE.

HE sits above heaven's heights sublime,
Yet fills the grave's profoundest place,

C

Beyond eternity, or time,

Ör the vast round of viewless space:
He on himself alone depends-

Immortal-glorious-but unseen—
And in His mighty being blends
What rolls around or flows within.
Of what we know not-what we know—
Prime source and origin-of all
In heaven above or earth below
Surrounding this terrestrial ball.
His power-love-wisdom, first exalted
And waken'd from oblivion's birth
Yon starry arch-yon palace, vaulted-

Yon heaven of heavens-to smile on earth. From His resplendent majesty

He shades us with his sheltering wings, While awe-inspired and tremblingly

We praise the glorious King of kings.

No tongue Thy peerless name hath spoken,
No space can hold that awful name;
The aspiring spirit's wing is broken ;-
Thou wilt be, wert, and art the same!
Language is dumb-Imagination,

Knowledge, and Science, helpless fall;
They are irreverent profanation,

And thou, O God! art all in all. How vain on such a thought to dwell! Who knows Thee-Thee, the All-unknown?

Can angels be thy oracle,

Who art-who art Thyself alone?
None-none can trace Thy course sublime,

For none can catch a ray from Thee,
The splendour and the source of time-
The Eternal of eternity.

Thy light of light out-pour'd conveys
Salvation in its flight Elysian,
Brighter than e'en Thy mercy's rays;-
But vainly would our feeble vision
Aspire to Thee. From day to day

Age steals on us-but meets Thee never : Thy power is life's support and stayWe praise Thee-sing Thee, Lord! for ever. Holy-holy-holy! Praise

Praise be His in every land; Safety in His presence stays— Sacred is His high command!

JOOST VAN DEN VONdel.

HYMN OF ADAM AND EVE.

ADAM.

THE all-quickening light is rolling there,
Which bids the shadowy forms emerge
From yon horizon's furthest verge,
And flit across earth's bosom fair:
The song of birds salutes the day-
A song whose chorus soars to Him
Who pours on all his blessing's beam,
And wakes the universal lay.
Come, let us join that choral song;
Come, let our voices blend with theirs;
And as their praises float along

We'll pour the incense of our prayers.
I'll lead the grateful hymn, my love!
And thou a sweeter strain shalt bring:
How shall we celebrate-how sing
The Spirit blest that reigns above!

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