Thy humble wooer owns thy kind control,
And pours, for thee, the music of his humble lyre.

Thou! gentle one, hast often hushed to peace
The stormy passions that invade the mind
Of the lone bard, who, glad of his release

From worldly cares-in happy ease reclined, Has sweetly dreamed of childhood's flowery homeOf treasures deep enshrined within the heart; While dear and long departed ones have come With radiant smiles their soothing influence to impart.

Or, led by thee, through fancy's boundless world, Above the starry-fretted vault of heaven,

What holy visions hast thou oft unrolled

To my tranced gaze-what raptures have they given !

How pleasant thus in mossy dell to lie,

And snatch from bygone days life's dearest flowers; Or view, while fast the happy moments fly, Our future home, with hopes to gain its blissful bowers.

Oh! yes, I love these glens; thou evening star

Bear witness to my passion deep and strong; For thou hast wandered with me near and far,

Their silent shades and green retreats among. Here, joining nature in her tuneful strain

Of vocal praise to her Creator's name,

'Tis sweet to worship in this glorious fane,

While woodland voices fan devotion's holy flame.

MOONLIGHT MUSINGS.

Lo! o'er yon purple mountains high,
The draperies of darkness drear,

Thick gathering, to the eye appear

Stretching across the eastern sky;

And onward, through the realms of twilight grey,

Old Night pursues the fast retreating King of Day.

Far o'er the spacious fields of heaven,
In dread array, he spreads around
His darksome elements profound,

That on the rough gale fiercely driven,
Fly o'er his empire wild in sullen gloom,
Intent light, life, and verdant beauty to entomb.

But, quickly travelling in his rear,

Day's sister, like a lovely Queen,

With stately step, yet modest mien,

In full-orb'd glory does appear,

And rolls her shining floods of mellow light Against the leaden, tow'ring battlements of night;

Or, o'er their heights most placidly

She pours her rays, and gilds the piles
Of clouds which look like fairy isles

Surrounded by a shining sea;

Or worlds that round her as their centre sail,

Till shattered into fragments by the rising gale.

Then, with a vivid lustre, gleams
The circling parapets along,

Of vast aërial castle strong,

Which, as if struck by lightning, seems,

Amid the peeling thunders loud and deep,

To reel and tumble earthward with a mighty sweep.

And now victorious she sweeps,

With pride along her glorious way,

Among the massive ruins grey,

That lie around in gorgeous heaps:

Then rises, with a halo round her beauteous form,

The mistress of the night, and conqueror o'er the

storm.

Thus, through the universe, cried I,
Wherever pitched the battle plain,

The light of Truth must ever reign

Triumphantly, however high

The powers of darkness lift their hateful heads,

Or, far and wide, their deep Egyptian night-glooms

spread.

Yes, blessed Truth! thou shedd'st thy ray

O'er error's dreary leaden sky,

And all its misty shadows fly

Down to the Stygian gulf away: