SONNET

TO THE MOON.

THE sons of genius, and the unenvied few
Who worship at thy shrine till lost to sense,
Have gazed upon thy face, and borrowed thence
Some pleasing thought: may I not then pursue
The bold example, and to others' view

Depict thy softened glow, and fair pretence
To light the slippery paths of innocence,
When night shall veil the languid earth anew
Ah! gentle guardian, couldst thou not endure

The invocations of the sons of song,

Without descending from the starry throng,
To woo Endymion with the fabled lure

Of heavenly greeting, that the maids less pure
Might justify their own by thy sad wrong?

?

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.

SHALL I with trembling hand essay

To treat the vast benignant plan Ordained by Heaven, through endless day, To bless His fallen creature Man!

The subject claims so large a share
In every wise, regenerate heart,
That gladly would I haste to bear
In such a lofty theme a part.

The God of all, and Source of Light,
Discovers to our watchful view,

In all His works, the boundless might
That fashions and sustains them too.

His care attests, with sweeter tongue
Than angels in His praise employ,

That mercy leads our feet along,

Where peril would their steps decoy.

. His blessings crowd on every sense,

In answer to our utmost need, And revelation shows us whence

The varied treasures all proceed.

His glory shines upon our path

As sunbeams on the ocean play,—

And love conceals His growing wrath,

When from His just commands we stray.

His promises are always sure,

As is His grace designed to give

The rich, the titled, and the poor,

A guide by which they all may live.

His Son awaits the ebbing breath

Of those who on this grace rely, Contending that, although in death, They yet in Him shall never die.

A PASSING THOUGHT.

ANOTHER dull and joyless day,

Oppressed by man's debasing guilt,

Now sheds its last reluctant ray

On visions that it falsely built;

And murmuring crowds are heard to sigh That time has flown so swiftly by!

And days like this, alas! make up

The longest span of human life;

They all extend the sweetened cup,

But poison it with latent strife; And while we quaff the tempting draught,

Death wings his unrelenting shaft !

RECOLLECTIONS INDUCED BY THE RECOVERY OF A STONE THAT FURNISHED A MUTUAL SOURCE OF PLEASURE TO ME AND MY SISTER DURING CHILDHOOD.

WHILE worldly cares were yet unknown,

And bliss in every sport was found,

My custom was to roll this stone

Along the well remembered ground.

The childish friends that gathered near,
To join their little mirth with mine,

Are suffered in an earthly sphere
Of pleasing duty still to shine.

Save one to whom my youthful heart
With pure affection always glowed,

And who in turn would oft impart

The light that from her counsel flowed.