Match'd jewels, vainly for a moment lent

To deck my brow, or sent

Untainted from the earth, as Christ's, to soar,
And add two spirits more

To that dread band seraphic, that doth lie
Beneath the Almighty's eye;-

Glorious the thought-yet ah! my babes, ah! still
A father's heart ye fill;

Though cold ye lie in earth-though gentle death
Hath suck'd your balmy breath,

And the last kiss which fair cheeks I gave

Is buried in yon grave.

your

No tears-no tears-I wish them not again;
To die for them was gain,

Ere Doubt, or Fear, or Woe, or act of Sin
Had marr'd God's light within.

-E cœlo descendit yveli oɛavróv.—Juvenal.

Γνῶθι σεαυτὸν !and is this the prime
And heaven-sprung adage of the olden time!-
Say, canst thou make thyself?-Learn first that trade;-
Haply thou mayst know what thyself had made.

What hast thou, Man, that thou dar'st call thine own?-
What is there in thee, Man, that can be known?-
Dark fluxion, all unfixable by thought,

A phantom dim of past and future wrought,
Vain sister of the worm,-life, death, soul, clod-
Ignore thyself, and strive to know thy God!

Beareth all things.-2 Cor. xiii. 7.

GENTLY I took that which ungently came,
And without scorn forgave :-Do thou the same.
A wrong done to thee think a cat's eye spark
Thou wouldst not see, were not thine own heart dark.
Thine own keen sense of wrong that thirsts for sin,
Fear that the spark self-kindled from within,
Which blown upon will blind thee with its glare,
Or smother'd stifle thee with noisome air.

Clap on the extinguisher, pull up the blinds,
And soon the ventilated spirit finds

Its natural daylight. If a foe have kenn'd,
Or worse than foe, an alienated friend,
A rib of dry rot in thy ship's stout side,
Think it God's message, and in humble pride
With heart of oak replace it ;-thine the gains-
Give him the rotten timber for his pains!

MY BAPTISMAL BIRTH-DAY.

God's child in Christ adopted,-Christ my all,-
What that earth boasts were not lost cheaply, rather
Than forfeit that blest name, by which I call
The Holy One, the Almighty God, my Father?-
Father! in Christ we live, and Christ in Thee-
Eternal Thou, and everlasting we.

The heir of heaven, henceforth I fear not death:
In Christ I live in Christ I draw the breath
Of the true life!-Let then earth, sea, and sky
Make war against me! On my front I show
Their mighty master's seal. In vain they try
To end my life, that can but end its woe.-
Is that a death-bed where a Christian lies ?—
Yes! but not his-'tis Death itself there dies.

EPITAPH

STOP, Christian Passer-by-Stop, child of God,
And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod
A poet lies, or that which once seem'd he-

O lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C.;

That he who many a year with toil of breath
Found death in life, may here find life in death!

Mercy for praise-to be forgiven for fame

He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same! 9th November, 1833.

AN ODE TO THE RAIN.

COMPOSED BEFORE DAYLIGHT, ON THE MORNING APPOINTED FOR THE DEPARTURE OF A VERY WORTHY, BUT NOT VERY PLEASANT VISITOR, WHOM IT WAS FEARED THE RAIN MIGHT DETAIN.

I KNOW it is dark; and though I have lain,
Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain,

I have not once opened the lids of my eyes,
But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.
O Rain! that I lie listening to,

You're but a doleful sound at best:
I owe you little thanks 'tis true,
For breaking thus my needful rest!
Yet if, as soon as it is light,

O Rain! you will but take your flight,
I'll neither rail, nor malice keep,
Though sick and sore for want of sleep.

But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

O Rain! with your dull two-fold sound,

The clash hard by, and the murmur all round!
You know, if you know aught, that we,
Both night and day, but ill agree:

For days and months, and almost years,
Have limped on through this vale of tears,
Since body of mine, and rainy weather,
Have lived on easy terms together.
Yet if, as soon as it is light,

O Rain! you will but take your flight,
Though you should come again to-morrow,

And bring with you both pain and sorrow;

Though stomach should sicken and knees should swell-
I'll nothing speak of you but well.

But only now for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

Nay, I could write a book myself,
Would fit a parson's lower shelf,
Showing how very good you are.-
What then? sometimes it must be fair!
And if sometimes, why not to-day?
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

Dear Rain! if I've been cold and shy,
Take no offence! I'll tell you why.
A dear old Friend e'en now is here,
And with him came my sister dear;
After long absence now first met,

Long months by pain and grief beset-
With three dear friends! in truth, we groan-
Impatiently to be alone.

We three, you mark! and not one more!

The strong wish makes my spirit sore.

We have so much to talk about,
So many sad things to let out;
So many tears in our eye-corners,
Sitting like little Jacky Horners-
In short, as soon as it is day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away.

And this I'll swear to you, dear Rain!
Whenever you shall come again,
Be you as dull as e'er you could,
(And by the bye 'tis understood,
You're not so pleasant as you're good)
Yet knowing well your worth and place,
I'll welcome you with cheerful face;
And though you stayed a week or more,
Were ten times duller than before;
Yet with kind heart, and right good will,
I'll sit and listen to you still;
Nor should you go away, dear Rain!
Uninvited to remain.

But only now, for this one day,

Do go, dear Rain! do go away.

THE EXCHANGE

WE pledged our hearts, my love and I,-
I in my arms the maiden clasping;
I could not tell the reason why,

But, oh I trembled like an aspen.

Her father's love she bade me gain;
I went and shook like any reed!
I strove to act the man in vain !

We had exchanged our hearts indeed.

PSYCHE

THE butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name-
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade

Of mortal life!-For in this earthly frame

1826.

Our's is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame,

Manifold motions making little speed,

And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.

1808.

LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION.

O'ER wayward childhood wouldst thou hold firm rule,
And sun thee in the light of happy faces;
Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces,
And in thine own heart let them first keep school.
For as old Atlas on his broad neck places
Heaven's starry globe, and there sustains it,-80
Do these upbear the little world below
Of Education,-Patience, Love, and Hope.
Methinks, I see them grouped, in seemly show,
The straitened arms upraised, the palms aslope,
And robes that, touching as adown they flow,
Distinctly blend, like snow embossed in snow.