THE MORNING.

BEHOLD, my fair, the ruddy morn

Anticipate the day;

What beauteous tints the sky adorn,

And gild the azure way !

The sombre mists, which gloomy night

Had gather'd in the vale,

Are born aloft, and wing their flight

Before the rising gale.

Now chang'd to clouds of varied hue,
In airy maze they dance;
Now sweep athwart the welkin blue,
And gem the gay expanse.

The plumy tenant of the grove

Is perch'd

on yonder spray,

And serenades his little love
With sweetest roundelay.

To taste the pleasures of the morn

Is bliss without alloy,

Though Fashion's drowsy vot'ries scorn

To quaff the cup of Joy.

But rise, my lovely charmer, rise

To greet the early ray,

And let my TERAMINTA's eyes

Add lustre to the day.

AN ODE.*

ALMIGHTY POWER! The ONE SUPREME !
Our souls inspire, attune our lays

With hearts as solemn as our theme,
To sing hosannas to thy praise!

Then, while we swell the sacred song,
And bid the pealing anthem rise

May seraphim the strain prolong,

And hymns of glory fill the skies.

Thy word omnifick form'd this earth,
Ere time began revolving years————

Thy fiat gave to Nature birth

And tun'd to harmony the spheres.

* This ode was written to the musick of an anthem, previously composed for other words, by Oliver Holden, Esq. Charlestown, Massachussetts, a gentleman eminent for his musical talents, and sung during divine service, at the anniversary of Vermont General Election.

When stern Oppression's iron hand,
Our pious fathers forc'd to roam,

And o'er the wild wave seek the land

Where Freedom rears her hallow'd dome.

When tempests howl'd, and o'er the main,
Pale Horrour rear'd his haggard form;
Thou didst the fragile bark sustain

To stem the fury of the storm!

When savage hordes, from wilds immense,
Rais'd the shrill war-whoop's frantick yell,

Thine arm made bare in our defence,
Dispers'd the gloomy hosts of hell!*

Thou badst the wilderness disclose
The varied sweets of vernal bloom-

The desert blossom'd like the rose,

And breath'd Arabia's rich perfume!"

* The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all those who forget God. Psalms.

Look down from heaven's empyreal height,
And gild with smiles this happy day.
Send us some chosen SoN OF LIGHT

Our feet to guide in Wisdom's way.

The sons of Faction strike with awe,
And hush the din of party rage,
That LIBERTY, secur❜d by Law,
May realize a golden age.

On those thy choicest blessings shower
To whom the cares of state are given;
May Justice wield the sword of Power,

TILL EARTH'S THE MINIATURE OF HEAVEN!