SONG OF THE STARS. "Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar, In the infinite azure, star after star, How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass! 247 woods lean. "And see, where the brighter day-beams pour, "Away, away! in our blossoming bowers, "Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres, To the veil of whose brow your lamps are dim." HYMN OF THE CITY. NoT in the solitude Alone, may man commune with Heaven, or see Only in savage wood And sunny vale, the present Deity; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty !—here, amidst the crowd With everlasting murmur, deep and loud- 'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind Thy golden sunshine comes From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies, And lights their inner homes For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies, And givest them the stores Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores. Thy spirit is around, Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along; HYMN OF THE CITY. And this eternal sound Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng Like the resounding sea, Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of thee. And when the hours of rest The quiet of that moment, too, is thine; The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. 249 "NO MAN KNOWETH HIS SEPULCHRE." WHEN he, who, from the scourge of And bowed him on the hills to die; wrong, God made his grave, to men unknown, To slumber while the world grows old. Thus still, whene'er the good and just Though nameless, trampled, and forgot, Yet God has marked and sealed the spot, "BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN." OH, deem not they are blest alone The light of smiles shall fill again There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night; And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier, Hope that a brighter, happier sphere, Nor let the good man's trust depart, |