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They were happy all the summer's day;
But happier far at night, When they knelt to say their evening prayers,
With spirits pure and light, And the father and mother kiss'd their babes :
It was a blessed sight!
The morrow-I was far away,
Musing with many fears,
In ten or twenty years;
THE MORNING SONG.
OH, come! for the lily
Is white on the lea;
Are pair'd on the tree:
On her wings and her feet;
Loud, varied, and sweet:
'Mid fragrance have been,
A crown like a queen.
The stream lifts its voice,
And yon lily's begun
And drink dew in the sun :
Earth rejoices in green-
and I'll crown thee
Hath waken'd his pipe,
Where the blackberry's ripe :
The dew on the thyme;
An old bridal-rhyme:
And gladness on earth-
THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN. BRIGHT rose the sun o'er Jordan's plain,
And on her cities seem'd to bend, His last fond looks-the tuneful strain
Of myriad birds, sang of their end; Yet they, unconscious, met the while, With sinful rites, that morning's smile. Far off, the walls of Sodom gleam'd
Soft through the rosy-tinted air, Distant and noiseless, as she dream'd
Of pageants new, and pleasures rare; And nearer still, Gomorrah stood, Bathed in the morning's golden flood.
Her priests were out the lengthen'd line
Of soldiers, chariots, pagans proud, Were moving to the Idol's shrine,
'Neath which their haughty souls had bow'd, And as they march'd, the timbrels rang, And loud and louder grew their clang. 'Twas their last march—the morning light
Shone on Gomorrah's proudest then,
And the assembled host of men;
Then leap'd the pent-up lightning down,
And dash'd its altar to the ground;
Where one might think that Sodom lay,
And battlement with light of day; While from Gomorrah's loftiest spires, Watch'd many a one the “sea of fires." The storm rolld on o'er Jordan's plain,
Despair then seized the pagan host,
Were on their sacred temples tost;
These awful pyres shook as a brand,
Might hide them from the quaking land And as they sank, her poison'd waves, Were covering for the cities' graves.
When rose the moon on that drear night,
It shone not on the cities, flush'd With pleasure and with sin—its light
Fell on the Dead Sea dark and hush'd; Heaven's awful vengeance then was o'er; And Jordan's Cities were no more.
We come! we come! and ye feel our might,
Ye mark, as we vary our forms of power,
And, whether our breath be loud and high,
hush one sound of our voice to peace, Or waken one note, when our numbers cease?
Our dwelling is in the Almighty's hand;
DISSENSION. ALAS! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love? Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied; That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships, that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity!
A something, light as air-a look,
Oh! love, that tempests never shook,
or like the stream, That smiling left the mountain's brow,
As though its waters ne'er could sever,