GOD VISIBLE IN HIS WORKS.

93

Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings..
Live so, my child, that when death shall come,
Swan-like and sweet it may waft thee home.

DR. G. DOANE.

GOD VISIBLE IN HIS WORKS.

THERE's not a leaf within the bower,
There's not a bird upon the tree,
There's not a dew-drop on the flower,
But bears the impress, Lord, of Thee.

Thy hand the varied leaf designed

And gave the bird its thrilling tone;
Thy power the dew-drop's tints combined,
Till like a diamond's blaze they shone.

Yes-dew-drops, leaves, and birds, and all,
The smallest like the greatest things;
The sea's vast space, the earth's vast ball,
Alike proclaim Thee King of kings.

But man alone to bounteous Heaven,
Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise,

To favour'd man alone 'tis given

To join the angelic choir in praise.

A. OPIE.

THE RIVER.

RIVER! river! little river!

Bright you sparkle on your way: O'er the yellow pebbles dancing, Through the flow'rs and foliage glancing, Like a child at play.

River! river! swelling river!

On you rush o'er rough and smooth:
Louder, faster, brawling, leaping,
Over rocks, by rose-banks, sweeping,
Like impetuous youth.

River! river! brimming river!

Broad, and deep, and still as time;
Seeming still, yet still in motion,
Tending onward to the ocean,
Just like mortal prime.
River! river! headlong river!
Down you dash into the sea,—
Sea that line hath never sounded,
Sea that sail hath never rounded,
Like eternity!

LOWLINESS OF MIND.

'Twas a summer morn, and the soften'd breeze Scarce ruffled the tiny flowers,

As they lay half hid in the velvet grass,
Or nestled in leafy bowers.

THE AUTUMN BIRTHDAY.

And a happy child was wandering there,
And with a wild delight,

Stoop'd down to pluck the violets sweet,
Half hidden from his sight.

And down he lay on that cushion green,
To gather the fragrant buds;
For he loved them better than any
Which the blossom'd earth bestuds.

flower

And so do the wise and pure of heart,
Of all the humankind,

Esteem and love with a closer bond,
A. lowly heart and mind.

So does the Wise One who dwells above

Look down on the meek below,

And causes the fragrance of inward
Round the hearts of such to flow.

peace

95

IRNE.

THE AUTUMN BIRTHDAY.

WHERE sucks the bee now? Summer is flying Leaves round the elm-tree faded are lying; Violets are gone from their grassy dell,

With the cowslip cups, where the fairies dwell, The rose from the garden hath pass'd away— Yet happy, fair boy, is thy natal day!

96

THE BLIND BOY AT PLAY.

For love bids it welcome, the love which hath smiled

Ever around thee, my gentle child!

Watching thy footsteps, and guarding thy bed,
And pouring out joy on thy sunny head.
Roses may vanish, but this will stay—
Happy and bright is thy natal day!

HEMANS.

THE BLIND BOY AT PLAY.

THE blind boy's been at play, mother,

The merry games we had;
We led him on his way, mother,

And every step was glad;
But when we found a starry flower,
And praised its varied hue,

A tear came trembling down his cheek,
Just like a drop of dew.

We took him to the mill, mother,

Where falling waters made
A rainbow o'er the hills, mother,
As golden sun-rays play'd:
But when we shouted at the scene,
And hail'd the clear, blue sky,

He stood quite still upon the bank,
And breathed a long, long sigh,

THE HEROIC BOY.

We ask'd him why he wept, mother,
Whene'er we found the spots
Where periwinkles crept, mother,
O'er wild forget-me-nots.

"Ah me!" he said, while tears ran down

As fast as summer showers

"It is because I cannot see

The sunshine and the flowers."

Oh! that poor sightless boy, mother,
He taught me that I'm blest;
For I can look with joy, mother,
On all I love the best;
And when I see the dancing stream,
And daisies red and white,

I kneel upon the meadow-sod

And THANK MY GOD for sight.

07

ELIZA COOK.

THE HEROIC BOY.

THE boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but he had fled;

The flames that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.

G