The crystal fountain, the o'ershadowing thorn,
And other objects of endearing power

That are entwined with every sympathy
Of this unhappy breast. Yea, and that moon
Now shines upon the pure and tranquil stream
That passed my little dwelling, where at eve
I often wandered in most happy mood,

To weave my song, and muse upon the hopes
That cheer life's darksome pilgrimage-these hopes,
Alas! can ne'er be realized, save in

A new existence-they are gone, and left
My heart a dried up fount, a withered tree
That never more can feel the breath of spring

How welcome is the grave to one like me,
Who enters upon life with hopes as high
As ardent heart can wish, but finds at last
Those hopes delusive as the beauteous morn
That ushers in a stormy day. To-day
Those mournful feelings came upon my heart
With most peculiar power-our vessel steered
Along the coast, and, lo, an aged church,
Amid its hoary trees, with many a stone
That marked the peaceful dwelling of the dead.
And then my thoughts most naturally turned
Upon the death of that good man, whose grave
We visited last Sabbath-eve-a man

According to my heart-a man indeed

Whom thou esteemedst-and that is no small praise.
Peace to his soul! he had his hopes and fears,
His joys and sorrows, like us both-but now,
From every trying circumstance, he rests
In perfect safety-as we shortly must.

SONGS OF ISRAEL;

CONSISTING OF LYRICS,

FOUNDED UPON

THE HISTORY AND POETRY

OF THE

HEBREW SCRIPTURES.

Scripture

That field of promise, how it flings abroad
Its odour o'er the Christian's thorny road;
The soul, reposing on assured relief,
Feels herself happy amidst all her grief;
Forgets her labours as she toils along,
Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song.

COWPER.

SONGS OF ISRAEL.

HARP OF ZION.

HARP of Zion!

pure and holy !

Pride of Judah's eastern land!

May a child of guilt and folly

Strike thee with a feeble band?

May I to my bosom take thee,

Trembling from the prophet's touch,

And, with throbbing heart, awake thee
To the songs I love so much?

I have loved thy thrilling numbers
Since the dawn of childhood's day,
When a mother soothed my slumbers
With the cadence of thy lay-

Since a little blooming sister

Clung with transport round my knee,

And my glowing spirit blessed her

With a blessing caught from thee.]

Mother-sister-both are sleeping

Where no heaving hearts respire, While the eve of age is creeping

Round the widowed spouse and sire.
He and his, amid their sorrow,
Find enjoyment in thy strain-

Harp of Zion! let me borrow
Comfort from thy chords again.

OMNIPOTENCE.

(ISAIAH, xl. PSALM civ. &c.)

How mighty is our Father,

Whose throne is in the heaven! Whose footstool is this spacious earth, That sprang immediately to birth When his command was given.

He measured out the waters
In hollow of his hand,

And, as he spread the curtained sky
Around the rolling orbs on high,
The wide creation spanned.

He weighed upon a balance
The everlasting hills,

And portioned out the primal clay
That now, in forms of various ray,
The scene of being fills.