FROM THE ITALIAN

OF

LORENZO DE' MEDICI.

FOLLOW that fervour, O devoted spirit!

With which thy Saviour's goodness fires thy breast ; Go where it draws, and when it calls-Oh! hear it, It is thy Shepherd's voice, and leads to rest.

In this thy new devotedness of feeling-
Suspicion, envy, anger, have no claim ;
Sure Hope is highest happiness revealing,
With peace, and gentleness, and purest fame.

For, in thy holy and thy happy sadness.

If tears or sighs are sometimes sown by thee!
In the pure regions of immortal gladness
Sweet and eternal shall thine harvest be.

Leave them to say "This people's meditation Is vain and idle !"-sit with ear and eye Fix'd upon CHRIST in child-like dedication, O thou inhabitant of Bethany.

BISHOP HUBERT.

"Tis the hour of even now,

When, with pensive, thoughtful brow, Seeking truths as yet unknown,

Bishop Hubert walks alone.

Fain would he, by earnest thought,
Nature's secret laws be taught;

Learn the destinies of Man,

And Creation's wonders scan.

From these data he would trace

Hidden mysteries of Grace,

Dive into a deeper theme,

Solve Redemption's glorious scheme.

So he flings aside to-day

Mitre's pomp, and crosier's sway,
Seeks the desert's silent scene,
And the marge of ocean green.

Far he has not roam'd-before,
On that solitary shore,

He has found a little child,
By its seeming play beguil❜d.

In the drifted, barren sand
It has scoop'd, with baby hand,
Small recess, in which might float
Sportive Fairy's tiny boat.

From a hollow shell, the while,
See! 'tis filling, with a smile,
Pool as shallow as may be

With the waters of the Sea.

Hear the smiling Bishop ask

"What can mean such infant task?"

Mark that infant's answer plain,

"'Tis to hold yon mighty main!"

Foolish trifler!"-Hubert cries, Open, if thou canst, thine eyes; Can a shallow, scoop'd by thee, Hope to hold yon boundless sea?

transcends

"Know'st thou not its space
All thy fancy comprehends?—
Ope thy childish eyes, and know
Fathomless its depths below."

Soon that child-on ocean's brim,
Opes its eyes, and turns to HIM!
Well does Hubert read its look,
Glance of innocent rebuke.

While a voice is heard to say
"If the pool, thus scoop'd in play,
Cannot hold yon mighty sea,

Vain must thy researches be.

"Canst thou hope to make thine own

Secrets known to God alone?

Can thy faculties confined

Fathom THE ETERNAL MIND?"