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A Thought.

The heavens shall reveal the iniquity of the wicked. JOB XX. 27.

How many a soul that seemeth clear,

Afree from sin as Mercy's tear,

Will, lighted by th' All-seeing eye,

Prove inky as a midnight sky!

Thus will the crystal wave retain

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The nitrate, nor yet know a stain;

But let the sun the liquid light,

It trembles, clouds, and turns to night!

Wisdom's Ways.

Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. PROV. iii. 17.

BENEATH Thy Spirit's hallowing spell,

The desert world is blest;

Its murmurs into music swell,

Its labours lull to rest;

Its sternest fate Thy smile can bless,

And bid its tempests cease:
Thy ways are ways of pleasantness,

And all Thy paths are peace!

Our rainbow youth is brighter, when
Thy Spirit makes it bright;

And manhood's yoke is easy then,
And manhood's burthen light.

Age knows, with Thee, no weariness,
And sin and sorrow cease:

Thy ways are ways of pleasantness,

And all Thy paths are peace!

The Joy of Worth.

God giveth to a man that is good in his sight wisdom, and knowledge, and joy. EccL. ii. 26.

THERE is a joy in worth,

A high, mysterious, soul-pervading charm ;
Which, never daunted, ever bright and warm,

Mocks at the idle, shadowy ills of earth;

Amid the gloom is bright, and tranquil in the storm.

It asks, it needs, no aid;

It makes the proud and lofty soul its throne:

There, in its self-created heaven, alone,

No fear to shake, no memory to upbraid,

It sits, a lesser God; life, life is all its own!

The stoic was not wrong:

There is no evil to the virtuous brave;
Or in the battle's rift, or on the wave,
Worshipp'd or scorn'd, alone or mid the throng,

He is himself,—a man! not life's, nor fortune's slave.

Power, and wealth, and fame,

Are but as weeds upon life's troubled tide:

Give me but these, a spirit tempest-tried,

A brow unshrinking, and a soul of flame,

The joy of conscious worth, its courage and its

pride!

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