Or peace to man, or judgments dire, Stranger of heav'n, I bid thee hail! Where hast thou roamed these thousand years? And when thou climb'st the milky way, Oh, on thy rapid prow to glide! To sail the boundless skies with thee! To brush the embers from the sun; Then far to other systems run, Where other moons and planets roll! Stranger of heav'n! O let thine eye And long, long may thy silver ray Our northern vault at eve adorn ; Then, wheeling to the east away, Sweep the grey portals of the morn !-HOGG. Hymn Composed by the late BISHOP OF CALCUTTA, and always sung on New Year's Day, by his desire. As o'er the past my mem'ry strays The world and worldly things beloved Yet, Holy Father! wild despair Chase from my lab'ring breast; Thy grace it is which prompts the pray'r, My life's brief remnant all be thine! And when thy sure decree Bids me this fleeting breath resign, O speed my soul to Thee! Life; a Poem. The morning arises, the noon fleets away, Yet the pilgrim of life deems his exit afar, The sun shines above him, there's music around; Or toys with the blossoms which pillowed its rest. The heart of the pilgrim in unison swells, That the bud of his joys, so luxuriant in bloom, tomb, In the gleam of its beauty to revel no more. Thus existence fleets on, and the startled grow dumb, When Death in deep darkness sweeps solemnly by, And speaks, as the hour of his triumph may come, Thou hast lived-thou hast loved-now turn thee, and die. Sonnet to a Child. FLETCHER. A rosebud opening, pearled with morning dew, O'er the green sward—a bright star in the blue All I would fondly deem-all they will picture thee! On the Death of a little Girl Five Years old. Sweet little flow'r thy bloom is fled, Around thee now in vain may beam But yet on thee a sun shall rise Or beauty's ray; A light, that on thy spirit breaking, Shall bid it, ev'ry care forsaking, Rise into day. Then why the night of sorrow here, And o'er thy mem'ry sheds the tear E |