THE HISTORY OF A LIFE. BY BARRY CORNWALL (PROCTER). Day dawned-Within a curtained room, A lady lay at point of doom. Day closed:-A child had seen the light; Spring rose :-The Lady's grave was green; Years fled: -He wore a manly face, And then-he died! Behold, before ye, THE STORMY PETREL. BY BARRY CORNWALL (PROCTER). A thousand miles from land are we, The hull, which all earthly strength disdains, Up and down! Up and down! From the base of the wave to the billow's crown, And amidst the flashing and feathery foam The Stormy Petrel finds a home, A home, if such a place may be, For her who lives on the wide wide sea, And only seeketh her rocky lair To warm her young, and to teach them spring O'er the Deep! O'er the Deep! Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish sleep, The Petrel telleth her tale-in vain ; For the mariner curseth the warning bird, Who bringeth him news of the storms unheard! EXTRACT FROM FESTUS.1 BY PHILIP JAMES BAILEY. Love is the happy privilege of the mind— The love of self, our fellows, and our God. 1 Mr Bailey's great poem "Festus," which has been viewed as an exponent of much of what is working in the social system of European nations, has not yet had time to ripen into estimation and popularity. "It has already," says a writer in Lowe's Magazine, August 1848, "gone through three or four editions; and several more, it is probable, will be called for before it has produced the full effect upon the literary and imaginative mind of our time which it is calculated to produce."-"His fervour is of a lofty, serious, and manly cast; his sense of beauty most keen and varied; his imagination free, bold, indeed absolutely fearless, and exceedingly original." The plan of the poem is that of Goethe's "Faust" we subjoin the following few lines as additional examples of its style and imagery: 'Tis earth shall lead destruction; she shall end- On her accustomed orbit, and the sun Miss one of his apostle lights; the moon, An orphan orb, shall seek for earth for aye, Through time's untrodden depths, and find her not; No more shall morn out of the holy east, Stream o'er the ambient air her level light, Nor evening, with her spectral fingers, draw Her star-spread curtain round the head of earth: Her footsteps, never thence again shall grace 536 THE SEASONS SUGGESTIVE OF FAITH IN GOD. In all throughout one common feeling reigns: To life,―to virtue one,—and one to bliss; From these three principles doth every deed, One only simple essence liveth-God,— The most intelligent affect us most. Nay, man's chief wisdom's love-the love of God. Was that of Christ and love. His great command- THE SEASONS SUGGESTIVE OF FAITH IN GOD. BY REGINALD Heber, d.d., LATE BISHOP OF CALCUTTA. When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil; When Summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil; When Winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood ;In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Maker good. The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade; The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade; The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way, The moon and stars, their Master's name in silent pomp display. Shall man, the lord of Nature, expectant of the sky, No, let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be, The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade, The Autumn droop in Winter, the birds forsake the shade; The winds be lull'd-the sun and moon forget their old decree, But we in Nature's latest hour, O Lord! will cling to Thee. EARLY PIETY. BY REGINALD HEBER, D.D., LATE BISHOP OF CALCUTTA. By cool Siloam's shady rill How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Sharon's dewy rose ! Lo such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, By cool Siloam's shady rill The lily must decay; The rose that blooms beneath the hill Must shortly fade away. And soon, too soon, the wint'ry hour Of man's maturer age Will shake the soul with sorrow's power, O Thou, whose infant feet were found Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned, Dependent on Thy bounteous breath, We seek Thy grace alone, In childhood, manhood, age, and death, THE SILENT EVE. BY D. M. MOIR (DELTA). Lo! in the south, a silver star, No more to weep, * To slumber on long ages through ;— Of eve, or the morning's silver dew! For all my dreams, And vision'd gleams, Are not like those of this earthly span; My spirit would stray For ever away From the noise of strife, and the haunts of man. I ask no dirge. The foaming surge Of the torrent will sing a lament for me; |