The Garden of Gethsemane.-J. PIERPONT. D'ER Kedron's stream, and Salem's height, Moves the majestic queen of night, All but the children of distress, Of sorrow, grief, and care Whom sleep, though prayed for, will not bless;— These leave the couch of restlessness, To breathe the cool, calm air. For those who shun the glare of day, 'Tis a religious hour;-for he, O, Holy Father, when the light May hope in Christ grow strong and bright, In trust and prayer like him. Trust in God. PERCIVAL. THOU art, O. Lord, my only trust, And all my loves are gone. When earth has nothing to bestow, And every flower is dead below, I look to thee alone. Thou wilt not leave, in doubt and fear, When foes around us thickly press, The bosom friend may sleep below And we may feel the bitter dart, 'Tis thou, O Lord, who shield'st my head, And, O, may soon that time arrive, Heaven.-CHRISTIAN EXAMINER. THE earth, all light and loveliness, in summer's golden hours, Smiles, in her bridal vesture clad, and crowned with festal flowers, So radiantly beautiful, so like to heaven above, We scarce can deem more fair that world of perfect bliss and love. Is this a shadow, faint and dim, of that which is to come? What shall the unveiled glories be of our celestial home, Where waves the glorious, tree of life, where streams of bliss gush free, And all is glowing in the light of immortality! To see again the home of youth, when weary years have Oh! this indeed is joy, though here we meet again to part before, Where every tear is wiped away, where partings come no more ! When, on Devotion's seraph wings, the spirit soars above, A gleam of heaven's own light-though now its brightness scarce appears "Through the dim shadows, which are spread around this vale of tears; But thine unclouded smile, O God, fills that all glorious place, Where we shall know as we are known, and see thee face to face! Geehale. An Indian Lament.-ANONYMOUS. THE blackbird is singing on Michigan's shore For he knows to his mate he, at pleasure, can hie, The sun looks as ruddy, and rises as bright, And reflects o'er our mountains as beamy a light, As it ever reflected, or ever expressed, When my skies were the bluest, my dreams were the best. The fox and the panther, both beasts of the night, Retire to their dens on the gleaming of light, And they spring with a free and a sorrowless track, For they know that their mates are expecting them back. Each bird, and each beast, it is blessed in degree: All nature is cheerful, all happy, but me. I will go to my tent, and lie down in despair; This snake-skin, that once I so sacredly wore, Its spirit hath left me, its spell is now broke. I will raise up my voice to the source of the light; O, then I shall banish these cankering sighs, I will dig up my hatchet, and bend my oak bow; Nor lakes shall impede me, nor mountains, nor snows;- They came to my cabin when heaven was black: Scene from" Percy's Masque."-HILLHOUSE. SCENE. A high-wood walk in a park. The towers of Warkworth castle, in Northumberland, seen over the trees.-Enter ARTHUR, in a huntsman's dress. Arthur. HERE let me pause, and breathe awhile, and wipe These servile drops from off my burning brow. Amidst these venerable trees, the air Enter a Forester. Forester. A benison upon thee, gentle huntsman! For. The Neville's towers I seek. By dreams I learn, and prophecies most strange, Ar. (starting back.) Douglas !— Douglas. Now do I clasp thee, Percy; and I swear By my dear soul, and by the blood of Douglas, Linked to thy side, through every chance, I go, Till here thou rul'st, or death and night end all. Percy. Amazement! Whence?-or how?Doug. And didst thou think Thus to elude me? Per. Answer how thou found'st me. What miracle directed here thy steps? Doug. Where should I look for thee, but in the post Where birth, fame, fortune, wrongs, and honor call thee! Returning from the isles, I found thee gone. Awhile in doubt, each circumstance I weighed; Thy difficulties, wrongs, and daring spirit; |