For, sore dismayed, through storm and | But to that fane, most catholic and Ye bright mosaics! that with storied In the sweet-scented pictures, heavenly Artist, With which thou paintest Nature's wide-spread hall, What a delightful lesson thou impartest Of love to all! Not useless are ye, flowers! though made for pleasure; Blooming o'er field and wave by day and night, From every source your sanction bids me treasure Harmless delight. Ephemeral sages! what instructors hoary For such a world of thought could furnish scope? Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, ADDRESS TO AN EGYPTIAN MUMMY. A torch, at the great temple's dedica tion! Contained no record of its early ages? - for doubtless thou canst recol- Still silent!-Incommunicative elf! Tell us, lect, To whom should we assign the Sphinx's REGINALD HEBER. The preacher prays, "Lord, bless us!" "Lord, bless us!" echo cries; "Amen!" the breezes murmur low; "Amen!" the rill replies: The ceaseless toil of woe-worn hearts The proud with pangs are paying, But here, O God of earth and heaven! The humble heart is praying. How softly, in the pauses Of song, re-echoed wide, The affrighted land is ringing; Hush! hush! the preacher preacheth: And see not in the gathered brow Speak low, thou heaven-paid teacher! On useful hands and honest hearts The base their wrath are wreaking; But, thanked be God! they can't prevent The storm of heaven from speaking. CORN-LAW HYMN. LORD! call thy pallid angel, The tamer of the strong! And bid him whip with want and woe The champions of the wrong! O, say not thou to ruin's flood, "Up, sluggard! why so slow?" But alone let them groan, The lowest of the low; And basely beg the bread they curse, Where millions curse them now! No; wake not thou the giant Who drinks hot blood for wine, And shouts unto the east and west, In thunder-tones like thine, Till the slow to move rush all at once, An avalanche of men, 143 While he raves over waves That need no whirlwind then; Though slow to move, moved all at once, A sea, a sea of men! REGINALD HEBER. [1783-1826.] IF THOU WERT BY MY SIDE. If thou wert by my side, my love, If thou, my love, wert by my side, I miss thee at the dawning gray, I miss thee when by Gunga's stream I spread my books, my pencil try, But when of morn or eve the star I feel, though thou art distant far, Then on then on! where duty leads, That course nor Delhi's kingly gates For sweet the bliss us both awaits Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, Across the dark-blue sea; But ne'er were hearts so light and gay As then shall meet in thee! Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel, writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, then, |