Behold, oh Lord! the Heathen tread
The branches of thy fruitful vine,
That its luxurious branches spread
O'er all the hills of Palestine.

And now the wild boar comes to waste
Even us, the greenest boughs and last,
That drinking of thy choicest dew,
On Zion's hill in beauty grew.

No! by the marvels of thine hand,
Thou still wilt save thy chosen land!
By all thine ancient mercies shown
By all our father's foes o'erthrown ;
By the Egyptian car-borne host,
Scattered on the Read Sea coast;
By that wide and bloodless slaughter
Underneath the drowning water.
Like us in utter helplessness,
In their last and worst distress-
On the sand and sea-weed lying,
Israel poured her doleful sighing;
While before the deep sea flowed,
And behind fierce Egypt rode-
To their fathers' God they prayed,
To the Lord of Hosts for aid.

On the margin of the flood

With lifted rod the Prophet stood;
And the summoned east wind blew,
And aside it sternly threw

The gathered waves, that took their stand,

Like crystal rocks, on either hand,

Or walls of sea-green marble piled
Round some irregular city wild.

Then the light of morning lay
On the wonder-paved way,
Where the treasures of the deep
In their caves of coral sleep.
The profound abysses, where
Was never sound from upper air,
Rang with Israel's chanted words,
King of Kings! and Lord of Lords!
Then with bow and banner glancing,
On exulting Egypt came,

With her chosen horsemen prancing,
And her cars on wheels of flame,

In a rich and boastful ring

All around her furious king.

But the Lord from out his cloud,

The Lord looked down upon the proud;

And the host drove heavily

Down the deep bosom of the sea.

With a quick and sudden swell

Prone the liquid ramparts fell;
Over horse, and over car,
Over every man of war,

Over Pharaoh's crown of gold,

The loud thundering billows rolled.

As the level waters spread

Down they sunk, they sunk like ead,

Down without a cry or groan.

And the morning sun that shone

On myriads of bright-armed men,
Its meridian radiance then

Cast on a wide sea, heaving, as of yore,
Agains; a silent, solitary shore.

Then did Israel's maidens sing,

Then did Israel's timbrels ring,

To him, the King of Kings! that in the sea,
The Lord of Lords! had triumphed gloriously.
And our timbrels' flashing chords,
King of Kings! and Lord of Lords!
Shall they not attuned be
Once again to victory?
Lo! a glorious triumph now;
Lo! against thy people come
A mightier Pharaoh! wilt not thou

Craze the chariot wheels of Rome?
Will not like the Red Sea wave
Thy stern anger overthrow?
And from worse than bondage save,
From sadder than Egyptian wo,
Those whose silver cymbals glance,
Those who lead the suppliant dance,
Thy race, the only race that sings
"Lord of Lords! and King of Kings!"

In this wide world the fondest and the best
Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress'd.

Crabb.

HYMN OF NATURE.

BY PEABODY.

GOD of the earth's extended plain!
The dark green fields contented lie;
The mountains rise like holy towers,
Where man might commune with the sky:
The tall cliff challenges the storm
That lowers upon the vale below,
Where shaded fountains send their streams,
With joyous music in their flow.

God of the dark and heavy deep!

The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
Till the fierce trumpet of the storm
Hath summoned up their foreign bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hung, trembling, o'er the seas,
Till, calmed by thee, the sinking gale
Serenely breathes, Depart in peace.

God of the forest's solemn shade!
The grandeur of the lonely tree,
That wrestles singly with the gale,
Lifts up admiring eyes to thee;
But more majestic far they stand,

When, side by side, their ranks they form,
To weave on high their plumes of green,
And fight their battles with the storm.

God of the light and viewless air!
When summer breezes sweetly flow,
Or, gathering in their angry might,

The fierce and wintry tempests blow;
All-from the evening's plaintive sigh,
That hardly lifts the drooping flower,
To the wild whirlwind's midnight cry-
Breathe forth the language of thy power.

God of the fair and open sky!

How gloriously above us springs The tented dome of heavenly blue, Suspended on the rainbow's rings! Each brilliant star that sparkles through, Each gilded cloud, that wanders free In evening's purple radiance, gives The beauty of its praise to thee.

God of the rolling orbs above!

Thy name is written clearly bright
In the warm day's unvarying blaze,
Or evening's golden shower of light.
For every fire that fronts the sun,

And every spark that walks alone
Around the utmost verge of heaven,
Were kindled at thy burning throne.

God of the world! the hour must come,
And nature's self to dust return;