The lark in heaven, the plover on the lea, Stray into silence, as the star that stills All labor, with her silvern lamp fulfils

Her kindly task, and men from toil are free. Now gorgeous clouds like Tyrian tapestry Engird the sun, whose light upon them thrills Richer and fairer as he leaves their halls,

Till all the glory vanishes; and lo!

Swathed in a cloud, the little moon, new-
born,

Steals timidly around the starry walls,
Until the first cool herald breeze shall blow
Upon the golden eyelids of the morn.
Chambers' Journal.
J. T. LEVENS.

INVISIBLE, unspeakable, whose voice

In the soft murmur of this neighboring sea,
From the beginning everlastingly

Is thy own witness, energize my choice:
Even now, by more than half the allotted span
Wisely assigned, the unreturning years

In timorous doubts and all too scrupulous

fears

Have dwindled sore my little term of man.

Must it be ever thus? even to the end

Fearing to do aught lest I do the wrong,
Shall I my spirit's patrimony spend?
Arise, O God! this hour and make me
strong:

Let me this hour to fruitful usury lend
One talent in the napkin buried long.

Spectator.