With pious awe
Their eye uplifted sought the hidden path
Of the Great Spirit. I'he loud midnight storm,
The rush of mighty waters, the deep roll
Of thunder gave his voice; the golden sun,
The soft effulgenoe of the purple morn,
The gentle rain distilling, was his smile
Dispensing good to all.
[Traits of the Aborigines.
W. AND S. B. IVES, WASHINGTON STREET,