And touch my soul, and let me see
The ways of God, fair dame, in thee.

Or lead me forth o'er dales and meads, E'en as her child the mother leads; Where corn, yet milk in its green ears, The dew upon its shot blade bears; Where blooming clover grows, and where She licks her scented foot, the hare; Where twin-nuts cluster thick, and springs The thistle with ten thousand stings; Untrodden flowers and unprun'd trees, Gladden'd with songs of birds and bees! The ring where last the fairies danc'dThe place where dank Will latest glanc'dThe tower round which the magic shell Of minstrel threw its lasting spellThe stream that steals its way along, To glory consecrate by song: And while we saunter, let thy speech God's glory and his goodness preach.

Or, when the sun sinks, and the bright
Round moon sheds down her lustrous light;
When larks leave song, and men leave toiling,
And hearths burn clear, and maids are smiling;
When hoary hinds, with rustic saws,

Lay down to youth thy golden laws;
And beauty is her wet cheek laying
To her sweet child, and silent praying;
With thee in hallow'd mood I'll go,
Through scenes of gladness or of woe;
Thy looks inspir'd, thy chasten'd speech,
Me more than man has taught, shall teach;

Soul of our souls, and safeguard of the world!
Sustain, Thou only canst, the sick of heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recall
Their lost affections unto thee and thine.

HYMN

CRABBE.

O THOU! who taught my infant eye
To pierce the air and view the sky;
To see my God in earth and seas,
To hear him in the vernal breeze;
To know him midnight thoughts among:
Oh guide my soul, and aid my song!

Spirit of Light, do thou impart
Majestic truths, and teach my heart;
Teach me to know how weak I am,
How vain my powers, how poor my frame;
Teach me celestial paths untrod,-
The ways of glory and of God.

No more let me in vain surprise,
To heathen art give up my eyes;
To piles laborious science reared,
For heroes brave, or tyrants feared;
But quit philosophy, and see
The Fountain of her works in Thee.

Fond man! yon glassy mirror eye;
Go, pierce the flood, and there descry
The miracles that float between
The rainy leaves of watery green;

NY.

ard of the world! sick of heart; and recall e and thine.

Old Ocean's hoary treasures scan;
See nations swimming round a span.
Then wilt thou say-and rear no more
Thy monuments in mystic lore-
My God! I quit my vain design,
And drop my work to gaze on Thine:
Henceforth I'll frame myself to be
O Lord! a monument of Thee.

THE VOICE OF THE WAVES.

MRS. HEMANS.

ANSWER, ye chiming Waves!

That now in sunshine sweep;
Speak to me, from thy hidden caves,
Voice of the solemn deep!

Hath man's lone spirit here

With storms in battle striven?
Where all is now so calmly clear,
Hath anguish cried to Heaven?
-Then the sea's voice arose

Like an earthquake's under-tone:
"Mortal! the strife of human woes
"When hath not Nature known?

"Here to the quivering mast

"Despair hath wildly clung,

"The shriek upon the wind hath past, "The midnight sky hath rung.

"And the youthful and the brave
"With their beauty and renown,
"To the hollow chambers of the wave
"In darkness have gone down.

"They are vanished from this place

"Let their homes and hearths make moan!

"But the rolling waters keep no trace

"Of pang or conflict gone!"

-Alas! thou haughty deep!
The strong, the sounding far!
My heart before thee dies-I weep
To think on what we are!

To think that so we pass,

High hope, and thought, and mind,
Even as the breath-stain from the glass,
Leaving no sign behind!

Saw'st thou nought else, thou Main?
Thou and the midnight sky?
Nought save the struggle brief and vain,
The parting agony!

-And the sea's voice replied,

"Here noble things have been! "Power with the valiant when they died,

"To sanctify the scene:

"Courage in fragile form,

"Faith, trusting to the last,

"Prayer, breathing heavenwards thro' the storm: "But all alike have pass'd!"

Sound on, thou haughty Sea!

These have not passed in vain;