POEMS.
HYMN.
O Thou, Creator of my frame, Thy righteous pow'r display; May'st Thou direct my wand'ring ways, Nor let me ever stray.
Thy mercy still to me impart, And thy blest spirit give; Kindly sustain my drooping hopes, And all my strength revive.
Guide me by Thy protecting hand, Incline the will to thee; Endue me with Thy heav'nly grace, From earth's allurements free.
May true devotion in my breast Still fix my thoughts on heaven; While I the song of tribute raise, For every blessing given.
CHRISTIAN INSTITUTE.
"Be doubly blest th' auspicious day The edifice was plann'd; And may immortal gifts repay The founder's lib'ral hand:" Angels with joy beheld it rise, To train immortals for the skies.
How sweet to mark the artless throng, To hear the ingenuous youth, Raise with one voice the infant song, And learn the word of truth. "Delightful work his path to trace, Who died to save our ruined race."
"Now, Fancy, o'er life's little span Glances her busy eyes, And sees them bear the name of man, Industrious, good, and wise:" Bids them each useful art employ, Anticipates their future joy.
With ardent zeal some students may From hence arise and shine, To wipe the orphan's tears away, And heal with balm divine; "With winning eloquence to tell, What glories in Emmanuel dwell."
Some of the little ones may live To adorn their country's name; "Indulgent heav'n by them may give Fresh lustre to her fame. Some may the blessed Gospel bear, To distant lands, and plant it there."
And many to this favour'd spot, On God's eventful day, O happy, enviable lot, Grateful shall point and say, "There--there--to us the bliss was given, To seek and find the path to heaven."
FRIENDSHIP.
"Oh, give me the friend, from whose warm, faithful breast, The sigh breathes responsive to mine; Where my cares may obtain the soft pillow of rest, And my sorrows may love to recline."
Not the friend who my hours of pleasure will share, But abide not the season of grief; Who flies from the brow that is darken'd by care, And the silence that looks for relief.
Not the friend who suspicious of change or of guile, Would shrink from a confidence free; Nor him who with fondness complacent can smile, On the eye that looks coldly on me.
"As the mirror that's just to each blemish or grace, To myself will my image reflect; But to none but myself will that image retrace, Nor picture one absent defect."
To myself let my friend be a mirror as true, Thus my faults from all others conceal, Nor ever when absent those foibles renew, "That from heav'n and from man he should veil."
TO MARIA.
If sense and complacence their charms combine, To make each grace with double lustre shine-- If mind serene, and innocently gay, Makes life compare with an unclouded day:
And piety thy guide, whose gentle pow'r, To calm each thought, and brighten ev'ry hour; Then thou, Maria, much esteem'd must be, These happy traits are all combined in thee.
THE SUN.
Splendid orb of living light, That wakes the world from silent night, Still warm this dark opaque domain, Thou brightest of the solar train. "When the soft cooling show'r descends, And to the earth its moisture lends." When murky clouds obscure thy way, And part exclude thee from the day, Ah, yet again wilt thou revive, And o'er the globe thy lustre give; Yet shall thy beams "from day to day, The great Creator's power display;" And thy resistless radiant blaze, "In silent fervour muse his praise."
THE VOICE OF TIME.
Did we e'er mark the budding rose, And see its fragrant sweets disclose, Observe it grow from day to day, Till full perfection crowned the spray. Then straight we see it fade apace, And lose each vivifying grace; And ev'ry balmy leaf we find, Is shortly given to the wind. Watch, then, says Time, each hour you live, Nor with ill deeds my spirit grieve; From first beginning is my birth, And for your good, ye sons of earth; O, fill the Father's high behest, And lead the way to heav'nly rest; For all below must soon decay, And, like the rose, must pass away.
In Memory
of
MRS. WILLIAM RICHARDS.
Where late was gladness, when the morn arose. And cheerful musing, on the evening's close, Serenest pleasure dwelt with gentle sway, And peaceful slumber closed the joyful day. Where now, alas! affliction's deepest sigh, Is heard around in mournful symphony; A mother's tears are shed in bitter wo, And in despondency her sorrows flow: While sad vibrations agitate the breast, And friendship's voice is heard in deep distress. 'Tis past--the sigh is breathed, the tear is shed, And Anna's number'd with the silent dead. She was all goodness--gen'rous was her mind, Warm with benevolence to human kind: O'er the dark mind to pour instruction's ray, And lead the ignorant in wisdom's way; With patient zeal the Christian's path to smooth, And wide diffuse the genial light of truth. One lonely bosom breathes a deeper sigh, Connected by a near, and dearer tie: With him she trod the late delightful road; For him her heart with friendly fervour glow'd. He'll ne'er forget how many social hours Derived new joy from her soft, soothing pow'rs. Can he upon the scenes look back unmoved, When pious converse still the hours improved; While fancy, led by hope, the theme pursued, And future happiness in prospect view'd. Fancy, where now are thy illusive dreams? Faded thy visions bright, with golden gleams; _Friendship_, thy hope's, untimely fled away, And _this_ the last sad tribute we can pay. Our _loss_ demands--_receives_ the mournful strain, Let sounds of triumph celebrate her gain; The spirit 'scaping from its bonds of clay, Traces, with angel guides, the lucid way; Exalted notes from harps celestial rise, And kindred spirits hail her to the skies.
INVOCATION TO PRAYER.
Morning.
To prayer, to prayer; for the morning breaks, And earth in her Maker's smile awakes. His light is on all, below and above; The light of gladness, and life, and love; Oh, then, on the breath of this early air, Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.
Evening.
To prayer; for the glorious sun is gone, And the gathering darkness of night comes on: Like a curtain, from God's kind hand it flows, To shade the couch where his children repose;-- Then pray, while the watching stars are bright, And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night!
Sabbath.
To prayer; for the day that God has blest, Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest; It speaks of creation's early bloom, It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb. Then summon the spirit's exalted powers, And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours!
Alida; or, Miscellaneous Sketches of Incidents During the Late American War. Page 38
