Lines occasioned by hearing a little Boy mock the Old South Clock, as Hymn for the two hundredth Anniversary of the Settlement of Charles- THE POETS OF AMERICA. A Sacred Melody.-ANONYMOUS. BE thou, O God! by night, by day, Pure as the air, when day's first light And active as the lark, that soars Till heaven shine round its plumes. So may my soul, upon the wings Till at the gate of heaven it sings, Active Christian Benevolence the Source of sublime and lasting Happiness.-CARLOS WILCOX. WOULDST thou from sorrow find a sweet relief? Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambient air |