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THE CLOUDS.

[S. C. HALL.]

WHEN the first day-beam bless'd the sky,
I marked the varied clouds on high,-
The clouds through which the sun-light broke,
As if it came from heaven, and woke

Their sleepy shadows into smiles,

And wooed them with a thousand wiles :-
Those at a distance yet, were cold
And dull and naked, after night;
But on, toward the east, they roll'd,
And clad them in a robe of light.
Others, as if they loved to dwell

In darkness, moved but slowly on,
And when on them its brightness fell,
But little of their gloom had gone:
One, gloomier still, its course delays,
As though too heavy for the sky,
Then breaks and passes gaily by :-
While some had gathered round the rays
That
gave them hues and forms so fair,
As loath to leave that glorious place,
To lose their beauty, and to trace
Their pathway through the murky air.
I marked, when day was at its height,
Others of many a varied dye,

More fair of form, more purely bright
Than those that deck'd the morning sky,
And gazed, 'till over all on high
The sun held uncontrolled sway,
And chased from heaven all gloom away,
While the few clouds that o'er it past,
No beam obscured, no shadow cast.

But when the day was almost done,
The clouds were beautiful indeed,
When, from his daily duty freed,
Still in his glorious strength, the sun
Shone forth upon the twilight skies,
And graced them with his myriad dyes.
I saw the clouds that onward drew
From out the deep and distant blue,
Become all beautiful and bright,
As if to shew the coming night,
How great the radiance and the power,
E'en of the sun's departing hour.
They took all shapes, as fancy wrought
Her web, and mingled thought with thought:
Some like familiar forms-the themes
Of early loves that fade to dreams-
Some were of rainbow shape and hues;
Some glistened, like our earth, with dews;
Some were like forests, seen afar;
Some like the restless wand'ring star;
While some appear'd like coral caves,
Half hidden by the ocean waves,

All cover'd with their snow-white spray;
Others were there, which seemed to be
Fair islands in a dark blue sea,
Which human eyes at eve behold;
But only then-unseen by day,
Their shores and mountains all of gold.
They vanish'd as the night came on-
Those varied hues and forms were gone:-
But in their stead, Reflection woke
To teach her lesson-thus she spoke :-
Those very clouds, so bright, so gay,
So fair-are vapours which the earth
Fling, as diseased parts, away;

Foul mists, which owe their second birth

To him who keeps his throne on high,
To bless the earth and gild the sky.
Yes! 'tis the sun whose influence brings
A change to these degraded things-
That gives them lovely forms-and then
Deprives them of their baneful powers,
And sends to mother earth again,

In gentle dews and cheering showers, What was her burden and her bane. Man feels a change as great-when man Feels that immortal spark withinWhose might no human tongue can tell, Which shines to lighten and dispel

The darkness and the weight of sin;When He, who formed creation's whole, To school and guide the human soul, Bids o'er the intellectual skies

The Sun of righteousness arise,

And things of heaven and earth assume
Their proper shape of light or gloom.'
Now let the contemplative mind
Fill up the blank I leave behind;
And see through all creation's plan
Some useful lesson taught to man;
Compare the changes wrought within
And those without-by nature wrought-
Compare the man who lives in sin,

And him, by virtue, led and taught.
See how the Christian's shining light
Makes all that once was darkness, bright;
And see how like the clouds on high,
His ev'ry feeling, ev'ry thought,

Adorn and bless the mental sky,
And then his glories never die!

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THE MISSIONARY.

[WILLIAM HOWITT.]

My heart goes with thee, dauntless man,
Freely as thou dost hie,

To sojourn with some barbarous clan,

For them to toil, or die.
Fondly our spirits to our own

Cling, nor to part allow;

Thine to some land forlorn has flown,

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Thou climb'st the vessel's lofty side,
Numbers are gathering there;
The youthful warrior in his pride,
The merchant in his care:

Hearts which for knowledge track the seas,

Spirits which lightly rove

Glad as the billows and the breeze

And thou-the child of love.

A savage shore receives thy tread;
Companion thou hast none;

The wild boughs wave above thy head,
Yet still thou journeyest on:
Threading the tangled wild-wood drear,
Piercing the mountain glen,
Till wearily thou drawest near
The haunts of lonely men.

Strange is thy aspect to their eyes;
Strange is thy foreign speech;
And wild and strong is their surprise
At marvels thou dost teach.

Thy strength alone is in thy words;
Yet armies could not bow

The spirit of those barbarous hordes
So readily as thou.

But oh! thy heart, thou home-sick man,
With saddest thoughts run o'er,
Sitting as fades the evening wan,

Silently at thy door.

Yet that poor hut upon the wild,

A stone beneath the tree,

And souls to heaven's love reconciledThese are enough for thee!

HYMN.

[ROSCOE.]

HE who, upon the world's vain shore,
Forgetteth Thee, eternal One!
Soon shall his dangerous race be o'er,
His fatal course be run.

The heart that turneth cold from thee,
Thy great and glorious power;

That feareth not thy majesty,

Nor doth thy love adore;

That heart is dead, though warm with life; Is dark, 'mid heaven's own light; Passions of earth there hold their strife, And shroud the soul in night.

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