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Unlike Silene, who declines

The garish noontide's blazing light; But when the evening crescent shine's

Gives all her sweetness to the night.

Thus in each flower and simple bell,
That in our path untrodden lie,
Are sweet remembrancers who tell
How fast the winged moments fly.

Time will steal on with ceaseless pace,
Yet lose we not the fleeting hours,
Who still their fairy footsteps trace,
As light they dance among
the flowers.

DIVINE LOVE.

From the Rev. Henry Moore's Poems.

MYHow on

Y God, thy boundless love I praise,
How bright on high its glories blaze!

How sweetly bloom below!

It streams from thine eternal throne;
Thro' heaven its joys for ever run,
And o'er the earth they flow.

"Tis love that paints the purple morn,
And bids the clouds in air upborn,
Their genial drops distil;
In ev'ry vernal beain it glows,
And breathes in ev'ry gale that blows,
And glides in ev'ry rill.

It robes in cheerful green the ground,
And pours its flow'ry beauties round,
Whose sweets perfume the gale;
Its bounties richly sp.ead the plain,
The blushing fruit, the golden grain,
And smile on ev'ry vale.

But in thy gospel see it shine,
With grace and glories more divine,

Proclaiming sins forgiven ;

There Faith, bright cherub, points the way

To realms of everlasting day,

And opens all her heaven.

3Q4

Then

Then let the love that makes me blest,
With cheerful praise inspire my breast,
And ardent gratitude;

And all my thoughts and passions tend
To thee, my father and my friend,
My soul's eternal good.

Dart from thine own celestial flame
One vivid beam to warm my frame
With kindred energy;

Mark thine own image on my mind;
And teach me to be good and kind,
And love, and bless like thee.

L'

FAITH.

From the same.

IFE'S ceaseless labours, and illusive joys,

Its storms and waves, what brazen breast could bear,

Did not the cherub Faith's reviving voice

Sound its sweet music in affliction's ear?

See she waves high upon her heavenly shore

Her flaming brand, that guides me to be blest!
Ye foaming billows roll!--ye tempests roar !
Your rage but drives me sooner to my rest.

The seaman thus, long tost by stormy seas,
Worn out with toil, and sinking with disease,
With looks of rapture eyes the black'ning land,
Forgets the past, and smiles at present pain,
Feels a new vigour thrill through ev'ry vein,
And leaps exulting on the welcome strand,

DEATH, JUDGMENT, HEAVEN, AND HELL.
From Short Pieces in Verse, by Clericus.

HY terrors, Death! and wide-extended reign,
Thy gloomy mansions, and thy awful train,

The day of judgment, God's avenging might,
Heaven's wond'rous brightness dimming mortal sight,
And hell's dark dungeons, hid in ten-fold night.
My Muse in humble numbers fain would sing,
Guided by thy blest spirit, glorions King!

Whose

Whose succour I implore,-O! hear my prayer,
And shield thy suppliant with almighty care.

Mourn, Adam's sons, the fatal sentence mourn!
Sprung from the dust, to dust ye shall return;"
Your days are few, your race is swiftly run,
The shades of night soon shroud your setting sun.
Naked ye left your mother's fruitful womb,
And Death shall hide you naked in the tomb.
Wise men and fools, the coward and the brave,
The prince, the peasant, hero, captive slave,
Moulder together in one common grave.
The servant hears no more his master's call,
The prisoner freed escapes the dungeon wall;
The wicked cease from troubling, peaceful rest
With dovelike calm broods o'er the weary breast.
The lofty palace, and the frowning gate,
The pride of office, and the pomp of state,
With all the peagantry of human show,
Are by the conquering hand of Death laid low.

Our days are quickly gone, in haste they flee
Swift as a vessel ploughs the yielding sea;
Swift as the whizzing arrow cuts its way,
Swift as the eagle pounces on its prey.

As the rude ploughshare crops the blooming flower,
So falls our house of clay, to rise on earth no more!
The fairest face, the eve divinely bright,
Are food for worms hid in sepulchral night.
Wealth, honour, glory, beauty soon decay,
And nought abides when man is call'd away.
Of all the caskets which thy house contains,
Save one poor coffin nothing now remains;
Though of rich dresses thou wast lately proud,
They all are dwindled to one woollen shroud.

Where are our sires? gone to their silent home.
And where the prophets? hid within the tomb.
Our saviour Christ himself resign'd his breath,
And paid man's forfeit by a painful death:
Rose the third day triumphant o'er the grave,
And wav'd the banner'd cross omnipotent to save:
Ascended glorious to his native skies,

To teach his followers from this earth to rise,.

And gain a heavenly crown, their faith's immortal prize.

At

At the great dawning of the judgment day,
When heaven and earth, and seas shall melt away;
The King of Glory shall let loose his ire,
And the world perish in a flood of fire.
All nature stands aghast, the mountains nod,
Each trembling heart prepares to meet its God.
The pomp and majesty of kingly power
Are all extinguish'd in that fatal hour;
The rich men weep, the great their fall deplore,
And proudest conquerors now are proud no more.
Rumours of wars throughout the world shall rise,
The sea shall roar, and stars forsake the skies.
The Son of Man riding on clouds shall come,
And send a summons for the general doom,
The great Archangel shall his trumpet sound,
Louder and louder shall its voice rebound,
"Till heaven and earth shall echo all around:
The dead shall hear, on that tremendous day,
This awful call, "6
To judgment come away!
Men of all ages and of every clime,
Since the sun measur'd first the course of time,
All in one moment from their graves arise,
And fix upon the Judge their fearful eyes.

y!"

Christ sits upon his throne, majestic sight!
And calls the volume of our doom to light;
Rang'd on each side a different troop is seen,
A void impassable extends between:

On the right hand his saints elect are plac'd,
Cloth'd in white robes, their brows with chaplets grac❜d.
"Come, cries their Lord, ye blessed children come,

"And live for ever in your blissful home :

"Ye cloth'd the naked, and the hungry fed,

"Home to your board the weary pilgrim led;

"Lur'd by soft Charity's benignant call,

"Ye pour'd the healing balm within the dungeon wall:
"Well have ye fought of faith a glorious fight,
"Rul'd by my spirit, cover'd by my night:
"Your great Redeemer's sure protection prove,
"And reap your high reward your Saviour's love."

The left hand rank a different picture show,
Despair and terror, wretchedness and woe;
Sad signs of anguish in each face appear,
While dismal yells and howlings rend the air.
Hell groans beneath, above a thundering cloud
Of livid vengeance murmurs hoarse and loud,

Flashing

Flashing confusion from his angry look,

Their Sovereign Judge in dreadful accents spoke:

"Depart, ye cursed, into hell's domains, "For endless ages groan in galling chains,

"While flaming brimstone gnaws your never-dying pains.
"Still as they waste your burning limbs shall
"And feel no intermission of their woe:

grow,

"The partners of your guilt your anguish share,
"And howl upbraidings in your frighted ear.

"Strange sights are seen, and hideous shrieks resound,
"And hell's black fiends deal torture all around.
"Hence to your dungeons, wretches! hence depart, -
"Wail, guash your teeth, and bare your mangled heart;
"Feel now that pain your cruelty devis'd,

"And dread that vengeful God your furious pride despis'd."

Sentence pronounc'd, the demons seize their prey,

And drive the yelling ghastly crowd away;
Involv'd in sulphurous smoke they foam along,
Sharp whips of scorpions urge the flying throng;
Hell opes her gaping jaws with ten-fold ire,
And pours a fetid flood of dark red fire:
Back they recoil! but driven by vengeful might,
Leap the wide-yawning gulf, and sink to endless night!
There in deep dungeons feel outrageous woe,
Which spirits damn'd, and they alone, can know.

There impious atheists, atheists now no more,
The fury of Omnipotence deplore:
Their harden'd necks, and knees so stubborn bent,
And own'd God's justice in their punishment.
See midnight murderers, and the cunning thief,
The sturdy villain, and the cruel chief,
Who rui'd o'er empires with an iron rod,
While deathless beings trembled at his nod:
Here fornicators throng, a countless crowd,

Scalded with molten gold lank misers shriek aloud;
Lustful adulterers press a fiery bed,

And groaning drunkards hold the aching head;
Hard-hearted overseers bewail their fate,
Who starv'd the poor to save the parish rate;
The gamester, and the duellist so fell,
Here side by side in lowest darkness dwell,

Shake their strong chains, and utter dismal cries,
And load the tainted air with horrid blasphemies:

West

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