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My eye must be dark, that so long has been dim,
Ere again it may gaze upon thine;

But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home,
In many a token and sign.

I never look up with a vow to the sky,
But a light like thy beauty is there-
And I hear a low murmur like thine in reply,
When I pour out my spirit in prayer.

And though, like a mourner that sits by a tomb,
I am wrapp'd in a mantle of care-
Yet the grief of my bosom-oh, call it not gloom-
Is not the black grief of despair:

By sorrow revealed, as the stars are by night,
Far off a bright vision appears,

And hope, like the rainbow, a creature of light,
Is born-like the rainbow-in tears.



Fly on! nor touch thy wing, bright bird,
Too near our shaded earth,

Or the warbling, now so sweetly heard,
May lose its note of mirth.

Fly on-nor seek a place of rest,

In the home of "care-worn things,"
"Twould dim the light of thy shining crest,
And thy brightly burnish'd wings,
To dip them where the waters glide
That flow from a troubled earthly tide.

The fields of upper air are thine,
Thy place where stars shine free,
I would thy home, bright one, were mine,
Above life's stormy sea.

I would never war.der-bird, like thee,
So near this place again,

With wing and spirit once light and free-
They should wear no more, the chain
With which they are bound and fetter'd here,
Forever struggling for skies more clear.

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Not worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep,
Need we, to prove a God is here;
The daisy, fresh from winter's sleep,

Tells of his hand in lines as clear.

For who but He who arch'd the skies,

And pours the day-spring's living flood
Wondrous alike in all he tries,

Could rear the daisy's purple bud-
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,

Its fringed border nicely spin,
And cut the gold-embossed gem,

That set in silver gleams within?
And fling it unrestrain'd and free,

O'er hill and dale and desert sod,
That man, where'er he walks, may see,
In every step the stamp of God.


There is a bondage which is worse to bear
Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall,
Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall:
"Tis his who walks about in the open air,
One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear

Their fetters in their Souls. For who could be,
Who, even the best, in such condition, free
From self-reproach, reproach which he must share
With Human nature? Never be it ours

To see the Sun how brightly it will shine,
And know that noble feelings, manly powers,
Instead of gathering strength, must droop and pine;
And earth, with all her pleasant fruits and flowers,
Fade and participate in man's decline.


The brightest gem cannot surpass
The dew-drop on a blade of grass:
Thus nature's smallest works combine
To herald forth a hand divine!
Shall man, the noblest work of all,
With reason blest, a sceptic fall?
Behold thy form of wondrous skill,
With faculties that move at will,
How perfect, and how rarely fit,
And all in all so exquisite,
That reason's eye but with a scan
Proclaims-a God created man!

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With an Engraving

The following interesting description of the Mer de Glace, or Sea of Ice, a celebrated Glacier in Switzerland, is from the pen of a recent traveller :—

About one o'clock we arrived at the town of Chamouny, commonly called Le Prieuré, or the Priory, and took rooms at the English, or London Hotel. No time was to be lost; we therefore immediately sent for guides and mules, for our excursion to the Mer de Glace. These were soon obtained; and we were glad to find that our principal man was no other than the one who accompanied the famous Saussure in exploring these mountainous regions. The most esteemed guides have surnames, derived from the heights or passes which they first explore, or have been most successful in traversing. Thus one is called Mont Blanc; another L'Aiguille; and our guide Le Géant. Before setting out, we were all furnished with a baton ferré, or long staff, with a sharp iron ferrule at the end, to assist us in the steep and slippery parts of our excursion. As we crossed the plain, between the Priory and the foot of the mountain, we presented quite a formidable appearance. First marched, as our commander, Le Géant; then I came, flourishing the baton ferré in great glee; then my travelling companions on mules; and lastly, two or three minor guides and servants. After ascending the mountain for some distance, by a steep and craggy path, my strength began to fail. By the advice, and often the example, of one of our attendants, I took hold of the long tail of one of the mules, and was

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