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Gre enland, the Indians of North America, Africa, then pass along the field of this poetical magic-lantern, and are followed by an apostrophe to the Star of Bethlehem, that will not be overlooked.

O Star! the most august of all that clasp

The star-girt heav'n, which erst in eastern skies
Didst herald, like the light of prophecy,
The Sun of Righteousness,-the harbinger
Of more than natural day; whether thou track
The circuit of the universe, or thrid,

As with a golden clew, the labyrinth
Of suns and systems, still from age to age
Auguring to distant spheres some glorious doom;
Sure thou thy blessed circle hast well nigh
Described, and in the majesty of light,
Bending on thy return, wilt soon announce
His second advent. Yes, even now thy beams
Suffuse the twilight of the nations. Light
Wakes in the region where gross darkness veil'd
The people. They who in death's shadow sat,
Shall hail that glorious rising; for the shade
Prophetic shrinks before the dawning ray
That cast it forms of earth that interposed,
Shall vanish, scatter'd like the dusky clouds
Before the exultant morn; and central day

All shadowless, even to the poles shall reign.' pp. 16, 17.

The Scriptures and the progress of knowledge claim an emphatic notice, and the signs of the present times afford an appropriate subject for the conclusion.

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The Sacred Poems'. consist chiefly of versions of the Psalms, and of stanzas suggested by different passages of Scripture. There are a few of a more general cast, among which we were well pleased to recognise the Reverie,' from the additions to the second edition of the Associate Minstrels.' The 145th Psalm is versified in a measure of which we do not, at the present moment, recollect a previous instance, and which, we think, produces a very impressive effect. It is the heroic rhyme alternated. We shall give a part.

I will extol thy name, O God, my king:
For ever will I bless Thee. Day by day
Shall my glad lips Thy daily goodness sing;
To Thee an everlasting tribute pay.

Great is the Lord, unfathomably great:
Exalted as his greatness be his praise.
Oh, teach it to your children, and relate

His deeds of might, the goodness of his ways.

Tell of Jehovah's glorious majesty;

Tell of his power that spread the heavens abroad; Tell of the flaming mount, the parting sea,—

How earth, and sea, and heaven obeyed their God. Tell of the bread from heaven that daily fell; The new born spring that made the desert glad ; The mystic guide, that constant miracle,

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A cloud by day, by night with glory clad.

• Gracious and merciful is God: how slow
To anger, and how ready to forgive!
The Lord is good: how free his mercies flow!
His bounty is the life of all that live.

Thee, all thy works, Maker omnipotent,
Throughout the various realms of nature praise:
Thee, all thy saints, with voice intelligent
Adoring, sing the wonders of thy ways..

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Oh, let them to an impious world proclaim That glory, power, and government are Thine: Till earth confess the terrors of thy name,

And kings to Thee their shadowy crowns resign.'

pp. 45-47.

The 148th Psalm is of more convenient length, and we shall

cite it without mutilation.

PRAISE Jehovah, all on high-
Saints and angels fix'd in bliss,
All ye countless hosts of his ;
Sun by day, and moon by night,
Praise Him, all ye stars of light;
Highest heavens, and all things there,
Waters poised in purest air,
And all ye realms of sky!

Praise His name, at whose command,
All things were, and all things stand:
Still their ancient course they hold,
By th' Almighty word controll'd!

Praise Jehovah, all below—
Watery depths, and all that be
In the wonder-teeming sea;
Central fire and icy hail,

Dews, and snow, and stormy gale,
Blowing only as He wills;

Ancient mountains, wood-clad hills,

Palm and olive, oak and pine,
Waving corn and clustering vine;
Forest beasts, and bleating herds,
Creeping things, and soaring birds,
And rivers as ye flow:

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Praise, for ever praise the Lord!' pp. 48-50.

We shall close our extracts from this division with the following.

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Above that dome of sky,

Further than thought itself can flee,

Thy dwelling is on high;

Yet, dear the awful thought to me,
That Thou, my God, art nigh :-

Art nigh, and yet my labouring mind
Feels after Thee in vain,

Thee in these works of power to find,

Or to Thy seat attain.

Thy messenger, the stormy wind,

Thy path, the trackless main

These speak of Thee with loud acclaim;
They thunder forth thy praise,

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The glorious honour of Thy name,
The wonders of Thy ways:
But Thou art not in tempest-flame,
Nor in day's glorious blaze.

We hear thy voice, when thunders roll
Through the wide fields of air.

The waves obey Thy dread control
Yet still Thou art not there.
Where shall I find Him, O my soul,
Who yet is every where?

Oh, not in circling depth, or height,"
But in the conscious breast,
Present to faith, though veil'd from sight,
There does His Spirit rest. ·

O come, thou Presence Infinite,

And make thy creature blest.' pp. 74, 75.

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The Domestic Poems' are introduced by a brief Proëm,' of which, mindful of our pledge, we shall say nothing. It will, however, speak sufficiently for itself.

PRÖEM.

As through the mazy path of life I stray,
While Youth and Hope as yet my steps attend,
I love at times to pause, and strew the way.
With the wild blossoms that luxuriant pend
From Spring's gay branches; that whene'er I send
My Memory to retrace my pilgrimage,

She by those flowers her winding course may bend
Back through each twilight path and weary stage,

And with those early flowers wreathe the white brow of Age.'

P. 96.

But we are yielding rather too freely to temptation, and we
shall go on to some of the shorter poems in the 'miscellaneous'
division. There are twelve sonnets to Spring, Summer, and
Autumn, Winter, as will be seen by the following, is set down
as a blank—which invite transcription; we shall take three.
Spring, Summer, Autumn! Priestesses that hold
Alternate watch at Nature's altar! Deep
And full of mystery the course ye keep,
In hidden sympathy. First, chastely cold,
Thou, Vestal Spring, most gently dost unfold
The oracles of Nature, and from sleep
Enchanted, bid her infant beauties peep.
Thou, Summer, dost inscribe in living gold
The fullness of each promise sibylline,
And mak'st in part the bright fruition thine,
Murmuring soft music from her leafy fane:

Till Autumn's stores reveal in corn and wine
The meaning shut in every bud and grain.

Then comes the solemn pause which calls Spring back again.'

pp. 175-176.

Of the two with which we shall follow up this, the first opens the series on spring; and of the second, we must be permitted to say, that the closing idea is as beautiful, both in fancy, feeling, and expression, as any thing we ever met with of the kind. There is a stir abroad in earth and sky.

The busy clouds, now huddling, now dispersing,
Seem with the windy messengers conversing.

The landscape is alive: the shadows fly,
Coursed o'er the uplands by the hunter breeze.
The shifting lights are colour to the eye,
Clothing with warmth the sober scenery,
The russet corn-lands and the crisp, bare trees.
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VOL. XXI. N.S.

A dotting scarce perceptible, thrown out
In tints of livelier brown, on hedge and bough,
Gives mystic signs. A spirit is about,

Felt through all Nature's veins; and all things now,
Swelling with vernal hope, are ready quite,

Waiting His word, who said, Let there be light.'

'Summer is come; he with the of flame
eye
And lordly brow, whence, in his angry mood,
Flash the blue lightnings: he is come to claim
His bride, the gentle Spring, whom late he woo'd
With softest airs. See how his fervid breath

Has call'd the roses up on her chaste cheek!
And now to him the sceptre she with meek
And tender smile resigns. Her woodland wreath
Is faded, but the garden's gay parterre

Is rich with gorgeous hues; and glorious things
Haunt the cool stream, and flutter in the air,

Resplendent forms: the flowers have taken wings.
They do not die-there's nothing in Creation,

That dies; succession all, and wondrous transmigration.'

pp. 167, 8. There is a Poem addressed to the Nightingale, of which we shall only say, that we think it the most original and delightful We shall extract a part, not by any means of the collection. as superior to the rest, but as the most tractable for citation. O wondrous bird! thy varied measure,

The very soul of pleasure,
Who but an unblest lover could
Have fancied set in minor mood?
Who but the votary of folly
Have call'd it melancholy?

• To me that song denotes no less
Than mirth and inborn happiness,
That dreams the peaceful night away
In living o'er the joys of day.
To me it a long tale unravels
Of airy voyages, Persian travels,
Gay pranks in summer's fairest bowers,
And broken hearts among the flowers;
And then of England's landscape mild,
Spring's virgin beauties undefiled,
Her violet-banks, her blue-bell glades,
Her daisied meads, her greenwood shades,
The hedge-rows where the may is blooming,
With tenderest scent the air perfuming,

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