We are thy people, we thy care,
Our souls and all our mortal frame:
What lasting honors can we rear,
Almighty Maker, to thy name?

We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs,
High as the heavens our voices raise;
And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise.

Wide as the world is thy command;
Vast as eternity thy love;
Firm as a rock thy truth must stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move.

This was my lay in sad nocturnal hour,
What time the silence felt a growing sound
Awful, and winds began among the trees,
Nor was there starlight in the vaulted sky.
Now is the eyelid of the jocund sun
Uplifted on the region of this air;
And in the substance of his living light
I walk enclosed, therefore to matin chaunts
Of all delighted birds I marry a note
Of human voice rejoicing unto thee
Ever-loved, warbling my rapture now,
As erst to thee I made melodious moan.
Then I believed thee distant from my heart;

Praise to the living God!
All praised be his Name,
Who was, and is, and is to be,
For aye the same!
The One Eternal God
Ere aught that now appears:
The First, the Last, beyond all thought
His timeless years!

Formless, all lovely forms
Declare his loveliness;
Holy, no holiness of earth
Can his express.
Lo, he is Lord of all!
Creation speaks his praise,
And everywhere, above, below,
His will obeys.

His Spirit floweth free,
High surging where it will:
In prophet's word he spake of old, —

Angels holy,
High and lowly,
Sing the praises of the Lord!
Earth and sky, all living Nature,
Man, the stamp of thy Creator, —
Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord!

Sun and noon bright,
Night and moon-light,
Starry temples azure-floored,
Cloud and rain, and wild winds' madness,
Sons of God that shout for gladness, —
Praise ye, praise ye, God the Lord!

Ocean hoary,
Tell his story!

ON SEEING, IN THE COUNTRY, HIS PICTURE OF " THE BOTTLE"

Artist, whose hand, with horror wing'd, hath torn
From the rank life of towns this leaf! and flung
The prodigy of full-blown crime among
Valleys and men to middle fortune born,

Not innocent, indeed, yet not forlorn —
Say, what shall calm us when such guests intrude
Like comets on the heavenly solitude?
Shall breathless glades, cheer'd by shy Dian's horn,

Cold-bubbling springs, or caves? — Not so! The soul
Breasts her own griefs; and, urged too fiercely, says:

Spirit of the days of old!
Ere the generous heart grew cold;
When the pulse of life was strong,
And the breath of vengeance long;
When, with jealous sense, the heart
Felt the least indignant smart;
When, alive at every pore,
Honor no injustice bore,
But, like lions on their prey,
Sprang and washed the stain away;
When the patriot's blood was shed
At the shrine where valor bled;
When the bard, with kindling song,
Roused them to avenge their wrong;
When the thought of insult, deep
In the heart, could never sleep,

I wish I had not got a cold;
The wind is big and wild;
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.

Somehow the day is very long,
Just keeping here alone.
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone.

I'm sitting up, and Nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl —
I wish I was not so afraid:
It's horrid to be small.

It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P'raps everybody's gone away,
And just forgotten me.

And, oh, I cannot go to sleep,

I am the spirit of the viewless air,
Upon the rolling clouds I plant my throne,
I move serenely, when the fleet winds bear
My palace in its flight, from zone to zone;
High on the mountain top I sit alone,
Shrouding behind a veil of night my form,
And when the trumpet of assault has blown,
Career upon the pinions of the storm;
By me the gales of morning sweetly blow,
Waving, along the bank, the bending flowers;
'T is at my touch the clouds dissolving flow,
When flitting o'er the sky, in silent showers;

There are moments in life which are never forgot,
Which brighten and brighten as time steals away;
They give a new charm to the happiest lot,
And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day:
These moments are hallowed by smiles and by tears;
The first look of love, and the last parting given;
As the sun, in the dawn of his glory, appears,
And the cloud weeps and glows with the rainbow in heaven.

There are hours, there are minutes, which memory brings,
Like blossoms of Eden, to twine round the heart;

But a tiny ring of gold
Just a link
Wear it, and your heart is sold
Strange to think!

Till it glitters on your hand
You are free
Shall I cast it on the sand
In the sea?

Which was Judas' greatest sin
Kiss or gold?
Love must end where sales begin
I am told.

We will have no ring, no kiss
To deceive.
When you hear the serpent hiss