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But nature works in every breast,
And Dick felt some desires,
But Tom was still confined ;
To leave his friend behind.
That he desired no more ;
A prisoner as before.
Fandango, ball, and rout!
To liberty without.
To throw a perfume on the violet,
ADAM AND EVE'S MORNING HYMN.
(Fohn Milto11.) These are Thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty! Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair : Thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these Thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power Divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold Him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle His throne rejoicing ; ye, in heaven, On earth, join, all ye creatures, to extol Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge Him thy greater; sound His praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gained, and when thou falls't. Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies; And ye five other wandering fires, that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
THE VALE OF CASHMERE.-(Moore.) Who has not heard of the vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, Its temples, and grottoes, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave ? Oh! to see it at sunset, when warm o'er the lake Its splendour at parting a summer eve throws,
Like a bride, full of blushes, when lingering to take A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes !~ When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming
half-shown, And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own Here the music of prayer from a minaret swells, Here the Magian his urn full of perfume is swing
ing; And here at the altar, a zone of sweet bells Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is
ringing; Or to see it by moonlight,—when mellowly shines The light o’er its palaces, gardens, and shrines; When the waterfalls gleam like a quick fall of stars, And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of
Chenars Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet From the cool, shining walks where the young
people meet. Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes A new wonder each minute, as slowly it breaks, Hills, cupolas, fountains, called forth every one Out of darkness as they were just born of the sun. When the spirit of fragrance is up with the day, From his haram of night flowers stealing away ; And the wind, full of wantonness, wooes like a lover The young aspen-trees till they tremble all over, When the east is as warm as the light of first hopes, And day, with his banner of radiance unfurled, Shines in through the mountainous portal that
opes, Sublime, from that valley of bliss to the world!
THE SALLY OF THE CID.
Translated by 7. Hookam Frere. The gates were then thrown open,
and forth at once they rushed, The outposts of the Moorish hosts
back to the camp were pushed ; The camp was all in tumult,
and there was such a thunder Of cymbals and of drums,
as if earth would cleave in sunder. There you might see the Moors
arming themselves in haste, And the two main battles
how they were forming fast; Horsemen and footmen mixt,
a countless troop and vast. The Moors are moving forward,
the battle soon must join, “My men stand here in order,
ranged upon a line ! Let not a man move from his rank
before I give the sign." Pero Burmuez heard the word,
but he could not refrain, He held the banner in his hand,
he gave his horse the rein ; “You see yon foremost squadron there,
the thickest of the foes, Noble Cid, God be your aid,
for there your banner goes ! Let him that serves and honours it,
show the duty that he owes.” Earnestly the Cid called out,
“For Heaven's sake be still!"