"How happy," exclaim'd this child of air, "Are the holy spirits that wander there, 'Mid flowers that ne'er shall fade or fall! Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, And the stars themselves have flowers for me, One blossom of Heav'n out-blooms them all.

"Though sunny the lake of cool CASHMERE,
With its plane-tree isle reflected clear,
And sweetly the founts of that valley fall;
Though bright are the waters of SING SU HAY,
And the golden floods that thitherward stray,
Yet oh! 'tis only the blest can say

How the waters of Heav'n outshine them all.

"Go, wing thy flight from star to star,
From world to luminous world, as far
As the universe spreads its flaming wall;
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres,
And multiply them through endless years,
One minute of Heav'n is worth them all."

THE TEAR OF REPENTANCE THE BEST OFFERING TO HEAVEN.

BUT hark! the vesper call to prayer,

As slow the orb of daylight sets,

Is rising sweetly on the air,

From SYRIA's thousand minarets!

The boy has started from his bed

Of flowers, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod

Kneels with his forehead to the south,
Lisping th' eternal name of God

From purity's own cherub mouth,
And looking, while his hands and eyes
Are lifted to the glowing skies,
Like a stray babe of Paradise
Just lighted on that flowery plain,

And seeking for its home again!

Oh, 'twas a sight-that Heaven-that child

A scene which might have well beguiled

Ev'n haughty Eblis of a sigh

For glories lost and peace gone by!

And how felt he, the wretched Man
Reclining then-while memory ran
O'er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life,
Nor found one sunny resting-place,

Nor brought him back one branch of grace!
"There was a time," he said, in mild
Heart-humbled tones-" thou blessed child!
When young and happy, pure as thou,
I look'd and pray'd like thee; but now"-
He hung his head-each nobler aim

And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept he wept !

Blest tears of soul-felt penitence !
In whose benign, redeeming flow
Is felt the first, the only sense

Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.

"There's a drop," said the PERI, "that down from

the moon

Falls through the withering airs of June
Upon Egypt's land, of so healing a power,
So balmy its virtue, that ev'n in the hour
That drop descends, contagion dies,
And health reanimates earth and skies!—
Oh! is it not thus, thou man of sin,

The precious tears of repentance fall?
Though foul thy fiery plagues within,
One heavenly drop hath dispell'd them all!
And now behold him kneeling there
By the child's side, in humble prayer,
While the same sunbeam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one,

And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven
The triumph of a soul forgiven.

'Twas when the golden orb had set,
While on their knees they linger'd yet,
There fell a light more lovely far
Than ever came from sun or star,
Upon the tear that, warm and meek,
Dew'd that repentant sinner's cheek.
To mortal eye this light might seem
A northern flash or meteor beam;