Through all the changing scenes of life,
In trouble and in joy,
The praises of my God shall still
My heart and tongue employ.

Come, magnify the Lord with me,
And high exalt his name;
When in distress on him I call'd,
He to my rescue came.

The hosts of God encamp around
The dwellings of the just;
Deliv'rance he affords to all,
Who on his succor trust.

Oh! make but trial of his love;
Experience will decide,
How bless'd are they, and only they,
Who in his truth confide.

Desire and hope have moved my mind
To seek for that I cannot find,
Assured faith in woman-kind;
And love with love rewarded.
Self-love all but himself disdains;
Suspect as chiefest virtue reigns;
Desire of change, unchanged remains:
So light is love regarded.

True friendship is a naked name,
That idle brains in pastime frame;
Extremes are always worthy blame,
Enough is common kindness.
What floods of tears do lovers spend,
What sighs from out their hearts they send,
How many may, and will not mend?

All happy things are earnest. Once I roamed
In England, or in Dreamland, through the streets
Of a huge, buzzing, dense, metropolis.
Slowly, in teeming thoroughfares, I walked,
One of the people, hearing with their ears,
Beholding with their eyes, and in their thought
Divining, till my soul was filled with grief
At all that I beheld, and felt, and knew.

It was a gibing, laughing, sneering crowd,
Devoid of truth, faith, love, and earnestness,
Except a horrid earnestness for gain;
Fierce love of lucre, which, if one had not,

The venerable Past — is past;
'Tis dark, and shines not in the ray:
'Twas good, no doubt — 'tis gone at last —
There dawns another day.
Why should we sit where ivies creep,
And shroud ourselves in charnels deep;
Or the world's yesterdays deplore,
Mid crumbling ruins mossy hoar?
Why should we see with dead men's eyes,
Looking at Was from morn to night,
When the beauteous Now, the divine To B E ,
Woo with their charms our living sight?

Take my word for it
That the Gods never
Wander alone.
If I happen to come across Bacchus the jolly,
Up runs little Cupid with simpering folly,
And Phaebus I cannot disown.
They come and they come in their heavenly mirth,
And Deities people the mansions of Earth.

How shall I treat them,
Being but mortal,
They from the sky?
Gods, grant me a taste of your being immortal,
But expect no return from this transient portal;
Raise me to Olympus on high!
In Jupiter's halls is true bliss for the soul —

Here's the old cruiser, 'Twenty-nine,
Forty times she 's crossed the line;
Same old masts and sails and crew,
Tight and tough and as good as new.

Into the harbor she bravely steers
Just as she 's done for these forty years, —
Over her anchor goes, splash and clang!
Down her sails drop, rattle and bang!

Comes a vessel out of the dock
Fresh and spry as a fighting-cock,
Feathered with sails and spurred with steam,
Heading out of the classic stream.

Crew of a hundred all aboard,
Every man as fine as a lord

When God reveal'd his gracious name,
And chang'd my mournful state,
My rapture seem'd a pleasant dream,
The grace appear'd so great.

The world beheld the glorious change,
And did thy hand confess;
My tongue broke out in unknown strains,
And sung surprising grace.

“Great is the work,” my neighbors cried,
And own'd thy pow'r divine;
“Great is the work,” my heart repli'd,
“And be the glory thine.”

The Lord can clear the darkest skies,
Can give us day for night;
Make drops of sacred sorrow rise

It is but a plank which bestrides the crevasse,
'Twixt life and eternity hovers the scale,
The giants of Nature are holding the pass
And angrily threats of destruction exhale.
Through the horrid domain thou must stealthily creep
Lest the terrible avalanche wake from his sleep.

A bridge there hovers far over the edge
Of the gloomy depths beneath which cower;
No hand of mortal upreared that ledge,
That were beyond all mortal power.
The torrents may rage on it as they will
Early and late — it stands there still.

All the strength of youth enjoying,
Forth I went afar to roam;
Giving up the childish toying
Of my dear parental home.

All my wealth, on faith relying,
Willingly I left behind;
With a pilgrim's staff defying
All the world with simple mind.

For a mighty inspiration
Urged me on in tones sincere: —
Saying " go, 'tis thy vocation
To pursue a high career.

If thou seest a golden portal
Enter it without delay:
Things of earth are there immortal
And shall never pass away. "

Morn and eve in due procession

( FROM A PICTURE .)

Set, flaming god! — The pastures thirst
For quickening dew, man's powers fail;
Thy weary coursers drag,
Then let thy chariot pause!

Who hails thee from the crystal wave
With smiling beck? Answers thy heart?
The horses mend their speed,
'Tis godlike Thetis calls.

Into her arms the charioteer
Springs down, and Cupid takes the reins.
The placid horses stand
And drink the cooling stream.

With stealthy pace across the sky
Glides balmy night, Love in her train.