A page of history like thine,
May well in truth's perspective shine,
And bring to view

The glories of this world of ours,
The majesty of human powers,
The grand, the true.

A page of history like this,

Should teach us that no worldling's bliss
Can crown the soul

With happiness supremely blest,
When, in life's pilgrimage opprest,
We seek our goal.

The transcript of thy passing day,
The lights that glistened round thy way,
The sweets of earth;

The fond caresses of thy youth,

The whispering tones of love and truth,
The glance of mirth;

The smile of flattery and of fame,
The honours that adorned thy name,
A father's dower ;-

The tributes to thy genius paid,
The laurels in rich beauty spread,
To grace the hour.

Who would not value such a "brain, "Like bird-lime," fitted to retain The prints of time?

Who would not prize the sands that pass Like blessings in that measured glass,— Our soul's best prime.

THE QUEEN'S HUMMING-BIRD.

Then let the crown of all our days,
Hallowed by sacrifice and praise,
Each grace commend ;

And, as a consecrated flame,

Accepted in the Saviour's name,

To heaven ascend!

119

"Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie: to be laid in the balance, they are altogether lighter than vanity."-PSALM lxii. 9.

THE QUEEN'S HUMMING-BIRD.

I AM a tiny personage,

A fairy thing am I ;

And thus the favour I engage
Of many a passer by.

I pray you ladies, look on me!

My cheeks are round and fair;
I'm pretty as I well can be,
With soft and silken hair.

I scatter kisses round and round,
Like sugar-plums, in sport;
I bow my head with air profound,
Like envoy hailed at court.

And small as grace like mine may be,
I sport and dance and sing,

Like butterfly, in insect glee,
Or birdie on the wing.

I am a tiny gentleman
In silver trappings dight;
But surely longer than a span,
And larger than a mite.

The Queen herself has looked on me,I hear you say, "how kind!"

And gifts she gave me,-one, two, three, Exactly to my mind.

I know you love me, lady fair!
I see it in your eye;

You smile! and in this world of care,

I greet your sympathy.

The love of God is poured abroad,—

It fills my breast and yours; It bathes with dew the turfy sod, And evermore endures.

It fills the ocean, earth and sky,
It whispers in mine ear;

"Fear not, my child, thy God is nigh"Then trust, and never fear !"

THE MODERN PLATO.

A gentle, tiny thing am I,—

And yet a soul I have:
Thou God of this great mystery,
Thy young immortal save!

Then shall my voice, like babes of yore,
Thy name, Thy praises sing;
And whilst I worship and adore,

Take Thou my offering!

121

"And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life: and man became a living soul.”—GEN. ii. 7.

THE MODERN PLATO.

CALM as the summer air that wakes the trees

To music low;

Patient in labour as the honied bees
That journeying, go;

Firm as the oak that crowns the smiling vale
In leafy pride;

Gladsome as voices borne upon the gale
At eventide,-

A pictured form salutes me, and behold!
I welcome there,

Inscribed on an entablature of gold,
A record fair!

For what is fair as truth? and what so bright
In human things,

As a soul walking in the cloudless light
That virtue brings;

Virtue with faith combined! that saving power
That flourished well,

When an apostle once, in holy hour,
Its worth could tell.

Thy bold careering spirit urged its way
Through paths untraced,

And theories came forth to meet the day,
On wisdom based.

Morals high-toned and pure, thy genius nursed
With pious care,

And many a blushing bud of promise burst
In that clear air.

Thine was a well-stocked garden, where thy hand
Might prune at will;

Where suns might glow, and dews with influence bland,
Their sweets distil.

Thus many a goodly flower transplanted thence,

Was reared to bloom,

And scatter seeds of bright intelligence
Through error's gloom.

They braved the world's rude climate, and could bear, Cherished by thee,

The blasts of life, its rude and chilling air,

More hardily.