Behold his sainted spirit stand In angel-majesty ! Long robes of lustre round him flow; Across a golden lyre His gentle fingers stray; And when the rushing, mighty choir Of hallelujahs die away, There, thron'd as in the sun, This world seems dark and dull! And now to THEE, whose arm hath won That palace beautiful, His fond and grateful songs arise, Through the long SPRING OF PARADISE. 0. A Lesson for an Enfant School. SUN, moon, and stars, by day and night, At God's commandment give us light; And when we wake, and while we sleep, Their watch, like guardian angels, keep. The bright blue sky above our head, Sweet flowers that hill and dale adorn, The beasts that graze with downward eye, But us He form'd for better things, Thus God loved man; and more than thus, And now invites us, when we die, But we must live to Him below, For none but such to heaven will go : J. MONTGOMERY, ESQ. Lines by Mr. Montgomery, of Sheffield, On a Monument placed in the Chancel of the Parish Church, Preston. In Memory of HENRY WILLIAM HULTON, aged twenty-one Years; Who, In a moment of youthful enjoyment, By the oversetting of a boat, In testimony of their deep concern, They sail'd in hope, but they return'd no more; Youth, health, and pleasure, cheer'd them on the way; Brief was the voyage; yet they reach'd a shore Reader, thy days are number'd-where art thou? Though on the stream of time thy vessel glide, And pure as heaven the waters seem to roll, Ere long, in calm or tempest, shall the tide Cast on a land unknown thy naked soul: Ah! then, when life and death no more shall be, Where, Reader, wilt thou spend eternity? The Sky-Lark. By a Young Lady. How sweet is the song of the Lark, as she springs And she sings, while we hear her no more; When storms and dark clouds veil the sun from our sight, She has mounted above them, she shines in his light There, far from the scenes that disturb and affright, She loves her gay music to pour. It is thus with the Christian :-he sees from afar, The day-spring appearing, the bright morning-star; He quits this dark valley of sorrow and care, For the land whence the day-spring is given; He sings in his way from this cloud-covered spot; The Harvest Moon. ALL hail! thou lovely queen of night, In the deep stillness of the night, The wood-the lawn-the mountain's breasi, When thou, fair Moon of Harvest ! hast Thy radiant glory all unfurled, Far down upon the silent world. |