DOMESTIC PEACE.

TELL me, on what holy ground
May Domestic Peace be found?
Halcyon Daughter of the skies,
Far on fearful wings she flies,
From the pomp of sceptred state,
From the Rebel's noisy hate.
In a cottaged vale she dwells,
Listening to the Sabbath bells!
Still around her steps are seen
Spotless Honour's meeker mien,
Love, the sire of pleasing fears,
Sorrow smiling through her tears,
And, conscious of the past employ,
Memory, bosom-spring of joy.

COLERIDGE.

HUNG o'er a cloud above the steep that rears,
Its edge all flame, the broadening sun appears ;
A long blue bar its ægis orb divides,

And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings its shadow on the pictured deep.
'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire,
With towers and woods, a "prospect all on fire;
The coves and secret hollows, through a ray
Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
The gilded turf arrays in richer green

Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between!
Deep yellow beams the scattered boles illume,
Far in the level forest's central gloom :
Waving his hat, the shepherd, in the vale,
Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,-
That barking, busy 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks.
Where oaks o'erhang the road, the radiance shoots.
On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots;
The druid-stones their lighted fane enfold;
And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold;

Sunk to a curve, the day-star lessens still,

Gives one bright glance, and drops behind the hill.*

* From Thomson.

WORDSWORTH

LOVE.

1.

WE met in secret, in the depth of night

When there was none to watch us; not an eye

Save the lone dweller of the lonely sky

To gaze upon our love and pure delight;

And in that hour's unbroken solitude,

When the white moon had robed her in its beam,

I've thought some vision of a blessed dream,

Or spirit of the air before me stood,
And held communion with me. In mine ear
Her voice's sweet notes breathed not of the earth,
Her beauty seemed not of a mortal birth;
And in my heart there was an awful fear,
A thrill, like some deep warning from above,
That soothed its passion to a spirit's love.

II.

SHE stood before me; the pure lamps of heaven
Lighted her charms, and those soft eyes which turned
On me with dying fondness. My heart burned,

As, tremblingly with hers, my vows were given.
Then softly 'gainst my bosom beat her heart;

These living arms around her form were thrown,
Binding her heavenly beauty like a zone,

While from her ruby warm lips, just apart

Like bursting roses, sighs of fragrance stole,

And words of music whispering in mine ear

Things pure and holy none but mine should hear;

For they were accents uttered from the soul,

For which no tongue her innocence reproved,

And breathed for one who loved her and was loved.

ISMAEL FITZADAM.