[graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed]


THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB. THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen : Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed ; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew

still. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances uplifted, the trumpet unblown. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unemote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord !

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

NOW Summer comes, and with her briogs
New life to all created things,
Which, as it should be, is employed
To praise the God from whom enjoyed;
And that which cannot be expressed
By words, from actions may be guessed.

The trees to birds a shelter give;
The fields enable beasts to live;-
The birds, with little songs of praise,
Their tuneful voices heavenward raise;
The larger beasts, with louder notes,
In praise employ their bellowing throats.

The queen of insects, butterfly,
As, tinged like rainbow, she fits by,
And happy bee, with humming sound,
Seem to give thanks for flowers around
Nay, e'en those flowers, to “reason's car,”
In praise employ a language clear,
And, thankful for the blessing given,
Return their fragrance up to Heaven.
The streams, released from Winter's chain,
Through verdant meadows flow again;
And millions of their finny treasure
By rapturous leaps display their pleasure.

[ocr errors]

Thus all creation, with one voice,
Unite to praise and to rejoice;
But Man, vain Man, who boasts his right
To rule o'er all with sovereign might,
Whose higher gifts claim higher praise,

ly he, withholds his lays,
His thanks amid the general joy,
(Which he too often does destroy).
Should aught o'erthrow some idle dream,
Should aught destroy some favourite scheme;
Though in success he'd ruin find,
He-ah! most lamentably blind
Rebelliously rails on the arm
Which shields him from impending harm,
Despises other blessings given,
And rears his haughty crest 'gainst Heaven.
June, 1817.

J. R.

LO! gently rising from the eastern hills,

The mists of morn encircle all around;
The cattle graze beside the

And labouring swains upturn the yielding ground. Now here and there, a cottage dimly seen,

Thro' clustering trees doth catch the wandering eye; And yellow fields, and meads of liveliest green,

Do bear the shadows of the cloudy sky. And all seems calm and silent in the vale,

Save where the carter drives his weary team; And sings sans tune, some melancholy tale,

Of spirits seen beside the silver stream. Whilst to the south the mighty hills extend

Their bulky fronts, in majesty and pride;
And rustic shepherds, with their docks ascend

The winding paths, along the mountain's side.
Now, o'er the heather, bounds the timid hare,
... Beneath the furze, the sportive rabbit creeps;
Whilst native songsters charm the listening air,

And sun-beams rest upon the chalky steeps.
The purpled heather, scattered o'er the scene,

Is intermixed with many a yellow flower;
And streaks of sand, seen breaking thro' the green,

Lie close beneath the solitary tower.
Can man behold this prospect, and be still

The fue to nature, and a friend to art?-
No!-like the grey mist, mantling o'er the hill,

Will nature's verdure gather round the heart.
Behold yon peasant, as he leaves his cot,
Turn yet once more to view his faithful wife:

faithful wife: Ah! how I envy him, his peaceful lot,

And calm, unwearied, humbleness of life. How light his bosom when the eve doth come,

And twilight warblers, in the trees above Chaunt forth their love-notes, as he wanders home, To find his welcome in his vhildren's love.

But Hope will flatter, and the fond heart cling

To fancied joys, illusory as vain;
And hope will fade, and memory plant its sting,

And hearts once broken ne'er know peace again! . Some wandering thoughts of splendour or of pride

Will still disturb the poor enthusiast's breast; 'Till Desolation opes her curtain wide,

And shews him what a phantom he has pressed. Go, dreams of greatness! go, deceitful toys,

Which lure unyielding folly to his fate? Before mine eyes are placed the harmless joys, The true contentment of an humble state.


LINES By the Hon. G. Tucker, of Virginia. DAYS of my youth! ye have glided away; Hairs of my youth! ye are frosted and grey; Eyes of my youth! your keen sight is no more; Cheeks of my youth! ye are furrowed all o'er; Strength of my youth! all your vigour is gone; Thoughts of my youth! your gay visions are flown!

Days of my youth! I wish not your recal;
Hairs of my youth! I'm content you should fall;
Eyes of my youth! ye much evil have seen;
Cheeks of my youth! bathed in tears have you been ;
Thoughts of my youth! ye have led me astray;
Strength of my youth! why lament your decay?

Days of my age! ye will shortly be past;
Pain of my age! but a while can ye last;
Joys of my age! in true wisdom delight;
Eyes of my age! be religion your light;
Thoughts of my age! dread not the cold sod;
Hopes of my age! be ye tixt on your God!


WARM be my gear,

And let folks jeer!
To ruling states let others turn,
For conquests and fur kingdoms burn;

« ElőzőTovább »