Gentleness in his heart; can earth afford
Such genuine state, pre-eminence so free,
As when, arrayed in Christ's authority,
He from the pulpit lifts his awful hand;
Conjures, implores, and labours all he can
For re-subjecting to divine command
The stubborn spirit of rebellious man?

[pleads. As the high service pledges now, now There, should vain thoughts outspread their wings and fly

To meet the coming hours of festal mirth, The tombs which hear and answer that brief cry,

The infant's notice of his second birth, Recal the wandering soul to sympathy With what man hopes from Heaven, yet fears from earth.

Of infancy, provides a timely shower, Whose virtue changes to a Christian flower The sinful product of a bed of weeds! Fitliest beneath the sacred roof proceeds

stand parallel to each other, at a small distance; a circular lawn, or rather grass-plot, spreads between them; shrubs and trees curve from each side of the dwelling, veiling, but not hiding the church. From the front of this dwelling, no part of the burial-ground is seen; but, as you wind by the side of the shrubs towards the steeple end of the church, the eye catches a single, small, low, monumental head - stone, moss-grown, sinking into, and gently inclining towards, the earth. Advance, and the churchyard, populous and gay with glittering tombstones, opens upon the view. This humble and beautiful parsonage called forth a tribute, for which see "A Parsonage in Oxfordshire,' Miscellaneous Sonnets.

in

THE young-ones gathered in from hill and dale,

With holiday delight on every brow : 'Tis passed away; far other thoughts prevail;

For they are taking the baptismal vow Upon their conscious selves; their own lips speak

The solemn promise. Strongest sinews fail, And many a blooming, many a lovely cheek Under the holy fear of God turns pale, While on each head His lawn-robed servant lays

An apostolic hand, and with prayer seals The covenant. The Omnipotent will raise Their feeble souls; and bear with his regrets, [feels

Who, looking round the fair assemblage, That ere the sun goes down their childhood

sets.

By chain yet stronger must the soul be tied:
One duty more, last stage of this ascent,
Brings to thy food, memorial Sacrament!
The offspring, haply at the parents' side:
But not till they, with all that do abide
In heaven, have lifted up their hearts to laud
And magnify the glorious name of God,
Fountain of Grace, whose Son for sinners
died.

Here must my song in timid reverence pause:
But shrink not ye whom to the saving rite
The altar calls; come early under laws
That can secure for you a path of light
Through gloomiest shade; put on (nor
dread its weight)

Armour divine, and conquer in your cause!

That, carried sceptre-like, o'ertops the head Of the proud bearer. To the wide churchdoor, [fathers bore Charged with these offerings which their For decoration in the papal time, The innocent procession softly moves;— The spirit of Laud is pleased in heaven's And Hooker's voice the spectacle approves ! pure clime,

REGRETS.

WOULD that our scrupulous sires had dared to leave

weave

Less scanty measure of those graceful rites And usages, whose due return invites A stir of mind too natural to deceive; Giving the memory help when she would [lights A crown for hope! I dread the boasted That all too often are but fiery blights, Killing the bud o'er which in vain we grieve. Go, seek when Christmas snows discomfort bring [church

The counter spirit, found in some gay Green with fresh holly, every pew a perch In which the linnet or the thrush might sing. Merry and loud, and safe from prying search,

Strains offered only to the genial spring.

MUTABILITY.

FROM low to high doth dissolution climb, And sinks from high to low, along a scale Of awful notes, whose concord shall not A musical but melancholy chime, [fail; Which they can hear who meddle not with crime,

Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care.

Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear

'The longest date do melt like frosty rime. That in the morning whitened hill and plain And is no more; drop like the tower sublime Of yesterday, which royally did wear

Its crown of weeds, but could not even sustain

Some casual shout that broke the silent air, Or the unimaginable touch of time.

OLD ABBEYS.

MONASTIC domes! following my downward way, [fall! Untouched by due regret I marked your

Now, ruin, beauty, ancient stillness, all
Dispose to judgments temperate as we lay!
On our past selves in life's declining day:
For as, by discipline of time made wise,
We learn to tolerate the infirmities
And faults of others, gently as he may
Towards our own the mild instructor deals,
Teaching us to forget them or forgive.*
Perversely curious, then for hidden ill
Why should we break time's charitable
seals?

Once ye were holy, ye are holy still;
Your spirit let me freely drink and live!

EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY.

As a loved substance, their futurity; Good, which they dared not hope for, we have seen; [is dealt; A state whose generous will through earth A state-which, balancing herself between Licence and slavish order, dares be free.

NEW CHURCHES.

BUT liberty, and triumphs on the main,
And laurelled armies-not to be withstood,
What serve they? if, on transitory good
Intent, and sedulous of abject gain,
The state (ah, surely not preserved in vain !)
Forbear to shape due channels which the
flood

France

Are shattered into dust; and self-exiled
From altars threatened, levelled, or defiled,
Wander the ministers of God, as chance
Opens a way for life, or consonance
of faith invites. More welcome to no land
The fugitives than to the British strand,
Where priest and layman with the vigilance
Of true compassion greet them. Creed and

The all-sustaining Nile. No more--the time Is conscious of her want; through England's bounds,

In rival haste, the wished-for temples rise! I hear their Sabbath bells' harmonious chime [sounds

Float on the breeze-the heavenliest of all That hill or vale prolongs or multiplies!

CHURCH TO BE ERECTED.

BE this the chosen site ;-the virgin sod,
Moistened from age to age by dewy eve,
Shall disappear-and grateful earth receive
The corner-stone from hands that build to
God.
[rod
Yon reverend hawthorns, hardened to the
Of winter storms, yet budding cheerfully;
Those forest oaks of Druid memory,
Shall long survive, to shelter the abode
Of genuine faith. Where, haply, 'mid this
band

Of daisies, shepherds sate of yore and wove
May-garlands, let the holy altar stand
For kneeling adoration; while--above,
Broods, visibly portrayed, the mystic Dove
That shall protect from blasphemy the land.

CONTINUED.

roam;

[foam Where bubbles burst, and folly's dancing Melts, if it cross the threshold; where the wreath [path Of awe-struck wisdom droops or let my Lead to that younger pile, whose sky-like dome

Hath typified by reach of daring art Infinity's embrace; whose guardian crest, The silent cross, among the stars shall spread

As now, when she hath also seen her breast Filled with mementos, satiate with its part Of grateful England's overflowing dead.

WHY sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled Coil within coil, at noon-tide? For the Word [plored, Yields, if with unpresumptuous faith exPower at whose touch the sluggard shall unfold,

[behold, His drowsy rings. Look forth! that stream That stream upon whose bosom we have passed

Floating at ease while nations have effaced Nations, and death has gathered to his fold Long lines of mighty kings-look forth, my soul !

(Nor in this vision be thou slow to trust) The living waters, less and less by guilt Stained and polluted, brighten as they roll, Till they have reached the eternal citybuilt

For the perfected spirits of the just!