CONTENTMENT. WE live not in our moments or our years – Wiser it were to welcome and make ours Whate'er of good, though small, the present brings; Kind greetings, sunshine, song of birds, and flowers, With a child's pure delight in little things 1; And of the griefs unborn to rest secure, Knowing that mercy ever will endure. TRENCH. 1 "Though sometimes small evils, like invisible insects, inflict great pain, yet the chief secret of comfort lies in not suffering trifles to vex one, and in prudently cultivating an under-growth of small pleasures.' -Sharp's Letters and Essays. وو "Thrice happy is he who acquires the habit of looking every where for excellences and not for faults-whether in art or in nature-whether in a picture, a poem, or a character. Like the bee in its flight, he extracts the sweet and not the bitter wherever he goes; till his mind becomes a dwellingplace for all that is beautiful, receiving, as it were by instinct, what is congenial to itself, and rejecting every thing else almost as unconsciously as if it was not there."- Rogers. HYMN BEFORE SUNRISE IN THE VALE OF HAST thou a charm to stay the morning-star Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form! O dread and silent mount! I gaz'd upon thee, Didst vanish from my thought: entranc'd in prayer, Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are list'ning to it, Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy; Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the vale! Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink : Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn And you, ye five wild torrents' fiercely glad! Who called you forth from night and utter death, From dark and icy caverns called you forth Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, For ever shelter'd, and the same for ever? Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, And who commanded (and the silence came), Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, Who made you glorious as the flowers gates of heaven Who bade the sun Of loveliest blue 2, spread garlands at your feet! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost Besides the rivers Arve and Arveiron, which have their sources at the foot of Mont Blanc, five conspicuous torrents rush down its sides. 2 Within a few paces of the glaciers, the gentian grows in immeuse numbers. Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-storm! Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praise! Slow travelling, with dim eyes suffus'd with tears, Rise like a cloud of incense from the earth! COLERIDGE. THE REIGN OF CHRIST. YES, Salem, thou shalt rise: thy Father's aid Psalm ii. 3. and cvii. 16. Ezekiel, xxxvi. E'en now, perhaps, wide waving o'er the land, And who is he? the vast, the awful form 3, Girt with the whirlwind, sandal'd with the storm? A western cloud around his limbs is spread, His crown a rainbow, and a sun his head. To highest heaven he lifts his kingly hand, And treads at once the ocean and the land; And hark! his voice amid the thunder's roar, His dreadful voice, that time shall be no more! Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare, Lo! thrones are set, and every saint is there 4; Earth's utmost bounds confess their awful sway, The mountains worship, and the isles obey; Nor sun, nor moon they need,-nor day, nor night;God is their temple, and the Lamb their light"; And shall not Israel's sons exulting come, Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home? On David's throne shall David's offspring reign, And the dry bones be warm with life again." Hark! white-rob'd crowds their deep hosannas raise, And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise; Ten thousand harps attune their mystic song, Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong; "Worthy the Lamb! omnipotent to save, Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the grave!" HEBER. 1 Rev. xxi. 10. 8 Rev. x. 5 Rev. xxi. 22. Ezekiel, xl. • Rev. xx. 6 Ezekiel, xxxvii. сс |