LIGHT.

The desolate Morn, like a mourner forlorn,

Conceals all the pride of her charms,

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Till I bid the bright Hours chase the Night from her bowers,

And lead the young Day to her arms;

And when the gay rover seeks Eve for his lover,

I

And sinks to her balmy repose,

wrap their soft rest by the zephyr-fanned west,

In curtains of amber and rose.

From my sentinel steep, by the night-brooded deep,

I gaze with unslumbering eye,

When the cynosure star of the mariner

Is blotted from the sky;

And guided by me through the merciless sea,
Though sped by the hurricane's wings,
His compassless bark, lone, weltering, dark,
To the haven-home safely he brings.

I waken the flowers in their dew-spangled bowers,
The birds in their chambers of green,

And mountain and plain glow with beauty again,
As they bask in my matinal sheen.

O if such the glad worth of my presence to earth,
Though fitful and fleeting the while,

What glories must rest on the home of the blest,
Ever bright with the DEITY's smile!

THE LEAF.

BY SAMUEL G. GOODRICH.

It came with spring's soft sun and show
Mid bursting buds and blushing flowers;
It flourished on the same light stem,

It drank the same clear dews with them.
The crimson tints of summer morn,
That gilded one, did each adorn.

The breeze, that whispered light and brief
To bud or blossom, kissed the leaf;
When o'er the leaf the tempest flew,
The bud and blossom trembled too.

But its companions passed away,
And left the leaf to lone decay.
The gentle gales of spring went by,
The fruits and flowers of summer die.

The autumn winds swept o'er the hill,
And winter's breath came cold and chill.

The leaf now yielded to the blast,

And on the rushing stream was cast.

THE LEAF.

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Far, far it glided to the sea,

And whirled and eddied wearily,
Till suddenly it sank to rest,

And slumbered in the ocean's breast.

Thus life begins-its morning hours,
Bright as the birth-day of the flowers;
Thus passes like the leaves away,
As withered and as lost as they.
Beneath the parent roof we meet
In joyous groups, and gaily greet
The golden beams of love and light,
That kindle to the youthful sight.

But soon we part, and one by one,
Like leaves and flowers, the group is gone.

One gentle spirit seeks the tomb,

His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom.
Another treads the paths of fame,
And barters peace to win a name.
Another still tempts fortune's wave,
And seeking wealth, secures a grave.
The last grasps yet the brittle thread-
Though friends are gone and joy is dead,
Still dares the dark and fretful tide,
And clutches at its power and pride,
Till suddenly the waters sever,
And like the leaf he sinks for ever.

EXTRACT FROM THE JUDGM

BY JAMES A. HILLHOUSE.

THEN on the mount, amidst these glorious s Who reverent stood, with looks of sacred awe I saw EMMANUEL seated on his throne. His robe, methought, was whiter than the ligh Upon his breast the Heavenly Urim glowed Bright as the sun, and round such lightnings f No eye could meet the mystic symbol's blaze. Irradiant the eternal sceptre shone

Which wont to glitter in his Father's hand:
Resplendent in his face the Godhead beamed,
Justice and mercy, majesty and grace,
Divinely mingling. Celestial glories played
Around with beamy lustre; from his eye
Dominion looked; upon his brow was stampe
Creative Power. Yet over all the touch

Of gracious pity dwelt, which, erst, amidst
Dissolving nature's anguish breathed a prayer
For guilty man.
Redundant down his neck

His locks rolled graceful, as they waved, of ol
Upon the mournful breeze of Calvary.

THE JUDGMENT.

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His throne of heavenly substance seemed composed, Whose pearly essence, like the eastern shell,

Or changeful opal, shed a silvery light.

Clear as the moon it looked through ambient clouds

Of snowy lustre waving round its base,

That, like a zodiac, thick with emblems set,

Flashed wondrous beams, of unknown character,

From many a burning stone of lustre rare,

Stained like the bow whose mingling splendour streamed Confusion bright upon the dazzled eye.

Above him hung a canopy whose skirts

The mount o'ershadowed like an evening cloud.
Clouds were his curtains: not like their dim types
Of blue and purple round the tabernacle,

.That waving vision of the lonely wild,
By pious Israel wrought with cherubims;
Veiling the mysteries of old renown,
Table, and altar, ark, and mercy-seat,
Where, 'twixt the shadow of cherubic wings,
In lustre visible Jehovah shone.

In honour chief, upon the Lord's right hand
His station Michael held: the dreadful sword
That from a starry baldric hung, proclaimed
The Hierarch. Terrible, on his brow
Blazed the Archangel crown, and from his eye

Thick sparkles flashed. Like regal banners, waved