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LINES ON RELIGIOUS IMPRESSION.

LINES ON RELIGIOUS IMPRESSION.

["There are those to whom a sense of religion has come in storm and tempest; there are those whom it has summoned mid scenes of revelry and idle vanity: there are those too who have heard its small still voice amid rural leisure and placid contentment. But perhaps the knowledge which causeth not to err is most frequently impressed upon the mind during seasons of affliction; and tears are the softened showers which cause the seed of Heaven to spring and take root in the human heart."]

MONASTERY.

To some hath God his words address'd

Mid symbols of his ire;

And made his presence manifest

In whirlwind, storm and fire;
Tracing with burning lines of flame
On trembling hearts his holy name.

By some the awful tones are heard
In bowers where roses blow;

And where the heart's sweet thoughts are stirr'd
With music's magic flow;

Young bosoms there in joys full hour

Have turned to God, and own'd his power.

LINES ON RELIGIOUS IMPRESSION.

To some the solemn voice has spoken

In life's serene retreat;

Where on the still heart sounds have broken
As from the Mercy-Seat,

Swelling in the soft harmonies

Which float on evening's tranquil breeze.

But chiefest when the heart is crush'd
By sin or sorrow's power;

And each sweet voice of comfort hush'd
Which sooth'd in happier hour:

Oh, chiefest to the sufferer's ear,

That small still voice is ever near.

For human tears, like spring's soft shower,
To wounded hearts are given,

To quicken with their balmy power

The blessed seeds of Heaven;

And flowers of bright immortal bloom
Burst from the darkness of the tomb.

H. R.

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8

EVENING MUSINGS.

EVENING MUSINGS.

Evening dews are gently falling,
Evening glories gild the west,
Birds, with folded wing, are calling
Home the wanderers to their rest.

Lengthening now across the meadows,
Where the flocks no longer stray,
Softly steal the evening shadows
O'er the steps of parting day.

Silence reigns o'er moor and mountain,
Silence through the verdant vale,
Save where some melodious fountain
Tells its never ending tale.

Tells of stars, that nightly shining,
Lend their brightness to its breast-

Tells, and tells without repining,
How its waters know no rest.

Is there then no voice of sorrow?
Not one murmur in the blast?
No foreboding for the morrow?
No lamenting o'er the past?

EVENING MUSINGS.

Child of tears, it is thy wailing,

Thine alone that meets mine ear; Whence thy grief when all-prevailing Love, and peace are mingling here?

Whence thy grief? It is thy blessing,-
Thine alone, with conscious eye,
To look around thee, still confessing
God is here in earth and sky.

Child of tears! thou art not slighted,
In the record of his love;

Though perchance awhile benighted,
Seest thou not the star above?

Knowest thou not the gracious message,

Sent to all the sons of care? Heed not, then, the darkest presage,

God is present every where.

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S. STICKNEY.

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MOONLIGHT.

MOONLIGHT.

We are beneath the dark blue sky,
And the moon is shining bright;
Oh, what can lift the soul so high
As the glow of a summer's night?
When all the gay are hush'd to sleep;
When they that mourn forget to weep
Beneath that gentle light.

Is there no holier, happier land,

Among those distant spheres,

Where we may meet that shadowy band-
The dead of other years?

Where all the day the moonbeams rest,

And where at length the souls are bless'd,

Of those that dwell in tears?

Oh, if the happy ever leave

Their bowers of bliss on high,

To cheer the hearts of those that grieve
And wipe the tear drop dry;
It is when moonlight sheds its ray
More pure and beautiful than day,
And earth is like the sky.

J. MONTGOMERY.