That joy exalts, and makes it sweeter still; Prayer ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream Of glory on the consecrated hour
Of man, in audience with the Deity.
Who worships the great God, that instant joins The first in heaven, and sets his foot on hell.
YES, dearest friends, a short farewell,
Until at home we meet!
Oft shall remembrance fondly dwell
On days and scenes that own'd the spell
Of your communion sweet ;-
So sweet, at times it seem'd a faint,
A transitory taste
Of converse treasured for the saint
In the bright world-which who shall paint?
The heaven, to which we haste!
For oh! of less than heavenly mould
Our friendship ne'er shall be;
Not like the world's, by death controll❜d,
But fervent, pure; and we, enroll'd
Friends for eternity!
So, when on earth we cease to dwell
In pilgrim converse sweet,
We'll need no other parting knell
Than-"Dearest friends, a short farewell,
Till soon at home we meet !"
OBSERVE the Insect race-ordain'd to keep
The lazy sabbath of a half-year's sleep!
Entomb'd beneath the filmy web they lie,
And wait the influence of a kinder sky;
When vernal sun-beams pierce their dark retreat,
The heaving tomb distends with vital heat,
The full-form'd brood, impatient of their cell,
Start from their trance, and burst their silken
Trembling awhile they stand, and scarcely dare To launch at once upon the untried air;
At length assured they catch the fav'ring gale, And leave their sordid spoils, and high in ether sail!
Lo! the bright train, their radiant wings unfold
With silver fringed, and freckled o'er with gold;
On the gay bosom of some fragrant flow'r
They idly fluttering live their little hour,
Their life all pleasure, and their task all play,
All spring their age, and sunshine all their day!
Not so the Child of Sorrow-Wretched Man-
His course with toil concludes-with pain began,
That high his destiny he might discern,
And in Misfortune's school this lesson learn :-
Pleasure 's the portion of the inferior kind,
But Glory-Virtue-Heaven for Man design'd!
PRAISE FOR THE GOODNESS OF GOD.
My God, all Nature owns thy sway,
Thou givest the night, and thou the day!
When all thy loved creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre, breaks,
And bathes in dew the opening flower,
To thee we owe her fragrant hour;
And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to thee belong!
Or when, in paler tints array'd,
The evening slowly spreads her shade;
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can, more than day's enlivening bloom,
Still every fond and vain desire,
And calmer, purer thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit free,
And lead the soften'd heart to thee.
In ev'ry scene thy hands have dress'd,
In ev'ry form by thee impress'd
Upon the mountain's awful head,
Or where the sheltering woods are spread,
In ev'ry note that swells the gale,
Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,
The cavern's depth, or echoing grove,
A voice is heard of praise and love.
As o'er thy works the seasons roll,
And soothe, with change of bliss, the soul,
Oh never may their smiling train
Pass o'er the human scene in vain!
But oft, as on the charm we gaze,
Attune the wond'ring soul to praise;
And be the joys that most we prize
The joys that from thy favour rise!
SAY, ye that know, ye who have felt and seen
Spring's morning smiles and soul-enlivening green,
Say, did you give the thrilling transport way?
Did your eye brighten, when young lambs at play
Leap'd o'er your path with animated pride,
Or gazed in merry clusters by your side?
Ye who can smile, to wisdom no disgrace,
At the arch meaning of a kitten's face,
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