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Revealed its inner glory; and on high
Upon the seat of Mercy and of Love
Enthroned, The Holy One, The Deity
Incomprehensible, The First and Last-
Before Whose dread and awful Majesty
A throng of Saints and Angels ever cast
Immortal crowns in blissful ecstacy ;
While Cherubim and Seraphim among
Hosannas loud and Hallelujahs rung.

Forgive, O God, that hideous sin—forgive
The brain bewildered, that presumed to pry
Into eternity, and dared decry
The God that mortal may not see, and live.
Remember, Lord, that in the very clay,
Wherewith from model of Divinity
Thy power creative fashioned Man, the ray
Of light, with wholesome capability
Of vision fraught, was not imprinted there
Alone ; but to assist the eye, and lend
A telescope to sight. Thy constant care
For Man, and providential goodness, deigned
A mind to add-a comprehensive soul,
Perfect in every part, and in the whole
Divine ; a faculty that might compare
Thy various works--a judgment to discern-
A genius to embody-all was there.
And though Imagination should not turn
To superstitious Phantasy, and burst
The bonds of Reason-yet unmoved the eye
Can never gaze on such a scene-it durst
Not unabashed behold the Deity
Reflected there, nor feel a transport high
Of mind and soul an impious ecstaoy.

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Oh whither art thou flying on thy brightly glancing wing,
That rivals with its glossy hue the fairest tints of spring?
And wherefore leavest thou the earth, its calmness and its rest,
To skim with quivering pinions old Ocean's hoary breast ?

Where highest rise the angry crests of the foam-tossing waves,
Where in their depths the lightning its blazing arrows laves,
Where loudest roars the thunder and the wind, my fairy form
Is seen amidst the tumult, sole Empress of the storm.

Regardless of their threatening looks, 'neath which all mortals bow,
I fly along-they hurt me not-they cannot hurt me now;
For see, beneath my pinions bright the flashing waves subside,

winds within their caves low-muttering abide.

The lightning flashes fainter yet, and now ’tis seen no more,
The thunder rolling distantly is heard along the shore,
And smiling through the murky clouds the Sun outpours his light,
And the subsiding billows ’neath his beams are dancing bright.

The storm-tossed mariner is glad as o'er the crested wave
My form he sees—he knows it well--he knows its power to save,
For merrily through the waves his bark with lightning speed is

borne, And reaching soon the wished-for port, he hails the cloudless morn!

On the broad bosom of the sea, like crystal, clear and calm,
I build my nest, I rear my young, secure from care and harm,
And far in those green caverns, 'neath the unfathom'd ocean stream,
I seek my food and refuge from the noonday's scorching beam.

And when the Sun in western waves has dipped his fiery feet,
And the mild zephyr, whispering low, comes twilight cool to meet,
My pinions glancing bright once more o'er the calm sea will come,
And resting on the dewy earth I'll seek my own loved home.

E. G. E.


Patri debitum honorem
Demus beneficiorum,
Luce nobis acceptorum.

Nos, supreme Regum Pater,
Tuum numen tueatur,
Velut pullos avis Mater.

Solve cuncti me peccati,
Die forte perpetrati;
Crucifixi causâ nati :

Requiescam dulciore,
Tui vicinique amore,
Quàm vel placido sopore.

Veræ degam pietatis
Vitam, tuis sub mandatis,
Quæ supremis servent fatis.

Tuâ fulta vi serena,
Somni vincta mens catena
Sopiatur absque pænâ.

Tuæ laudi gnaviorem
Me remittat post soporem
Virtus munerum tuorum.

Si sit nox insomni dura,
Requiescam sine curâ,
Visa fugiens impura.

Præsens esto, sitque stratum
Tuâ curâ ter beatum,
Nec timore perturbatum.

Regem summæ majestatis,
Fontem veræ pietatis,
Quis laudare possit satis?

Cujus laudes, cum beato
Spiritu, sanctoque Nato,
Terra, cælum, celebrato.

φαγ. .


Quæ nunc divitibus gens acceptissima nostris
Et quos præcipuè fugiam, properabo fateri,
Nec pudor obstabit. Non possum ferre, Quirites,
Græcam urbem.

Juv. Sat. III.

The cheated nation's happy favourites see,
Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me;

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Excuse my transports in a theme like this,
I cannot bear a French metropolis.


When the stern old moralist put this sarcasm into the mouth of Umbricius, as he is departing, a voluntary exile from the pollutions of the metropolis, he may have been actuated by a little of that exclusive bigotry which called every one a barbarian who was not a Roman. For although luxury was unknown to Rome till her conquest of Greece, yet their intercourse with that nation brought many positive advantages with it, as one of their writers confesses, who himself was indebted to the Greek language for his most elegant imagery and tenderness of expression; and the disadvantages which did accrue from that conquest consisted in the reaction which the importation of Greek luxury produced on the stern, over-masculine character--the bigoted John-Bullism, if I may so term it-of her citizens. Such luxuries were not hurtful to the Greeks, whose virtue taught them moderation ; but the Romans, to whom they had been so long unknown, plunged into them with eagerness, proportionate to their former abstinence.

Without arrogating to France the virtues and bravery of Greece, or to ourselves the Cato-like barbarism of Rome, I may assert that our straight-forward honesty and manliness of character are compromised by the effeminacies—to call them by no harsher term - which our countrymen import from France. We suffer a conquered nation, not fit to be hewers of wood and drawers of water to our own, to corrupt our morals, and spoil us of our religion. We prefer everything French to the manufactures of our own country; as we prefer French cooks and French governesses, not from their superior merit, but because they are French. In short, we are directed in all these things by that plaguy goddess-almost the only deity that France has owned since the days of the goddess of

-Fashion ! Perhaps no question has caused so much difference of opinion, as that of foreign travel. Certainly it is


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