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Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, Universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Hath gather'd aught of evil, or conceal’d,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.

VII. MISSIONARY HYMN.

From Greenland's icy mountains,

From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,

From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes

Blow soft on Ceylon's isle,
Though ev'ry prospect pleases,

And only man is vile ;
In vain, with lavish kindness,

The gifts of God are strown,
The heathen, in his blindness,

Bows down to wood and stone

Shall we, whose souls are lighted

By wisdom from on high ;
Shall we, to man benighted,

The lamp of light deny ?
Salvation ! oh, salvation !

The joyful sound proclaim,
Till each remotest nation

Has learned Messiah's name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story,
And

you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole:
Till o'er our ransom'd nature,

The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,

In bliss returns to reign!

VIII.-HEAVEN.

This world is all a fleeting show,

For man's illusion given :
The smiles of joy, the tears of wo,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow;

There's nothing true but heaven!
And false the light on glory's plume,

As fading hues of even ; And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, Are blossoms gather'd from the tomb ;

There's nothing bright but heaven! Poor wanderers of a stormy day,

From wave to wave we're driven ; And fancy's flash, and reason's ray, Serve but to light the troubled way;

There's nothing calm but heaven!

IX.-DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB'S HOST AT JERUSALEM.
The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest, when summer is green,
That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest, when autumn hath blown,
That host, on the morrow, lay withered and strown.
For, the angel of death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed :
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed, with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride:
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
The tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord !

PATHETIC PIECES.

I.-THE STORY OF LE FEVRE.

It was some time in the summer of that year in which Dendermond was taken by the Allies; when my uncle Toby was one evening getting his supper, with Trim sitting behind him at a small sideboard—I say sitting—for in consideration of the Corporal's lame knee (which sometimes gave him exquisite pain), when my unele Toby dined or supped alone he would never suffer the Corporal to stand; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my uncle Toby could have taken Dendermond itself with less trouble than he was able to gain this point over him ; for many a time when my uncle Toby supposed the Corporal's leg was at rest, he would look back and detect him standing behind him with the most dutiful respect: this bred more little squabbles betwixt them than all other causes for five and twenty years together.

He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlour with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack: 'Tis for a poor gentleman-I think of the army-said the landlord, who has been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste any thing, till just now, that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast,-I think, says he, taking his hand from his forehead, it would comfort me.

If I could neither beg, borrow, nor buy such a thing, added the landlord, I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. I hope he will still mend, continued he; we are all of us concerned for him.

Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee, cried my uncle Toby; and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself, and take a couple of bottles, with my service, and tell him is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more, if they will do him good.

Though I am persuaded, said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door, he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim, yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in him that in so short a time should win so much upon the affections of his host. And of his whole family, added the Corporal; for they are all concerned for him. Step after him, said my uncle Toby-do, Trim and ask if he knows his name.

I have quite forgot it, truly, said the landlord, coming back into the parlour with the Corporal ; but I can ask his son again. Has he a son with him then ? said my uncle Toby. A boy, replied the landlord, of about eleven or twelve years of age ; but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father; he does nothing but mourn and lament for him night and day: he has not stirred from the bedside these two days.

My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being ordered, took away, without saying one word, and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe and tobacco.

Trim! said my uncle Toby, I have a project in my head, as it is a bad niglıt, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman. Your honour's roquelaure, replied the Corporal, has not once been had on since the night before your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St. Nicholas; and besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roquelaure, and what with the weather, it will be enough to give your honour I fear so, replied my uncle Toby ; but I am not at rest in my mind, Triin, since the account the landlord has given me. I wish I had not known so much of this affair, added my uncle Toby, or that I had known more of it. How shall we manage it ? Leave it, an't please your honour to me, quoth the Corporal; I'll take my hat and stick, and go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour. Thou shalt go, Trim, said my uncle Toby; and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant. I shall get it all out of him, said the Corporal, shutting the door.

It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe that Corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account:

your death.

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