Although the world should waver in its sphere

I tremble not if Thou thy peace afford;

But, Thou withdrawn, I am but as a chord

That vibrates to the pulse of hope and fear :

Nor rest I more than harps which to the air
Must answer when we place their tuneful board
Against the blast,-which thrill unmeaning woe

Even in their sweetness. So no earthly wing
E'er sweeps me but to sadden. Oh, place Thou
My heart beyond the world's sad vibrating-
And where but in Thyself? Oh, circle me
That I may feel no touches save of Thee.

CHAUNCY HARE TOWNSHEND.

}

HIDDEN JOYS.

LEASURES lie thickest where no pleasures

seem:

There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground

But holds some joy, of silence or of sound,
Some sprite begotten of a summer dream
The very meanest things are made supreme
With innate ecstasy. No grain of sand
But moves a bright and million-peopled land,
And hath its Edens and its Eves, I deem.
For Love, though blind himself, a curious eye

Hath lent me, to behold the hearts of things,

And touched mine ear with power. Thus, far or nigh, Minute or mighty, fixed or free with wings,

Delight from many a nameless covert sly

Peeps sparkling, and in tones familiar sings.

SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD.

"PATER VESTER PASCIT ILLA.”

UR bark is on the waters! wide around
The wandering wave; above, the lonely sky:
Hush! a young sea-bird floats, and that quick

cry

Shrieks to the levelled weapon's echoing sound:
Grasp its lank wing, and on, with reckless bound!
Yet, creature of the surf, a sheltering breast
To-night shall haunt in vain thy far-off nest,

A call unanswered search the rocky ground.

Lord of Leviathan! when Ocean heard

Thy gathering voice, and sought his native breeze;

When whales first plunged with life, and the proud deep

Felt unborn tempests heave in troubled sleep,

Thou didst provide, even for this nameless bird,
Home and a natural love amid the surging seas.
ROBERT STEPHEN HAWker.

1

THE TWAIN.

WO sunny children wandered, hand in hand,
By the blue waves of far Gennesaret,

For there their Syrian father drew the net,

With multitudes of fishes, to the land!

One was the Twin! even he whose blessed name
Hath in ten thousand shrines this day a fame,-
Thomas the Apostle,- one of the ethereal band!

But he, his Hebrew brother, who can trace
His name, the city where he dwelt, his place,
Or grave? We know not, none may understand:
There were two brethren in the field: the one

Shall have no memory underneath the sun,

The other shines, beacon of many a strand,

A star upon the brow of night, here in the rocky land!

ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER.

LOVE.

EART of my heart! of Love let us commune,
And tell me 'how it comes?' and 'what it is?'

"Love comes! and it is there replete with bliss;

A sun of light, bringing eternal noon,

New life to life; new powers, fresh flowers, its boon."
But what in sooth? "Two souls in sweet accord,

Each for each caring and each self unheard,
Bringing life's discords into perfect tune;

True to true feeling, and to nature living,

Plighting no faith, nor needing proof nor proving,
Taking for granted, never asking, giving,

Not doubting and not fearing 'how' or 'where ;
Not caring if less bright or young or fair,

Sure to be ever loved, and sure of loving."

HELENA C. VON RANKE.