IT KINDLES ALL MY SOUL.

"Urit me Patriæ decor."

Ir kindles all my soul,

My country's loveliness! Those starry choirs

That watch around the pole,

And the moon's tender light, and heavenly fires Through golden halls that roll.

O chorus of the night! O planets, sworn

The music of the spheres

To follow! Lovely watchers, that think scorn To rest till day appears!

Me, for celestial homes of glory born,

Why here, O, why so long,

Do ye behold an exile from on high?

Here, O ye shining throng,

The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers, On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers To deck at blushing eve their bridal bowers, And angel feet the glittering Sion tread.

Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves.

With fettered steps we left our pleasant land,

Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The strangers' bread with bitter tears we steep, And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, In the mute midnight we steal forth to weep, Where the pale willows shade Euphrates'

waves.

Here let me drop my chain,

And dust to dust returning, cast away

The trammels that remain ;

The rest of me shall spring to endless day!

From the Latin of CASIMIR OF POLAND,

Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home; He that went forth a tender prattling boy

Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come; And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shall bear, And Hermon's bees their honeyed stores prepare, And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, Where o'er the cherub-seated God full blazed the irradiate dome.

HENRY HART MILMAN.

JEWISH HYMN IN BABYLON.

GOD of the thunder! from whose cloudy seat
The fiery winds of Desolation flow;
Father of vengeance, that with purple feet
Like a full wine-press tread'st the world below;
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey,
Nor withering Famine walks his blasted way,
Till thou hast marked the guilty land for woe.

God of the rainbow! at whose gracious sign

The billows of the proud their rage suppress; Father of mercies! at one word of thine

An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness, And fountains sparkle in the arid sands, And timbrels ring in maidens' glancing hands, And marble cities crown the laughing lands,

And pillared temples rise thy name to bless.
O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord!
The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate,
Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian's sword,
Even her foes wept to see her fallen state;
And heaps her ivory palaces became,
Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame,
Her temples sank amid the smouldering flame,
For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate.

O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam,
And the sad City lift her crownless head,
And songs shall wake and dancing footsteps
gleam

In streets where broods the silence of the dead.

REBECCA'S HYMN.

FROM "IVANHOE."

WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came, Her fathers' God before her moved,

An awful guide in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands, The cloudy pillar glided slow : By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow.

There rose the choral hymn of praise,

And trump and timbrel answered keen, And Zion's daughters poured their lays, With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze,

Forsaken Israel wanders lone :
Our fathers would not know thy ways,
And thou hast left them to their own.

But present still, though now unseen!
When brightly shines the prosperous day,
Be thoughts of thee a cloudy screen
To temper the deceitful ray.
And O, when stoops on Judah's path
In shade and storm the frequent night,
Be thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath,
A burning and a shining light!

Or if on joyful wing Cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Úpward I fly;

Still all my song shall be,Nearer, my God, to thee,

Nearer to thee.

SARAH FLOWER ADAMS.

O, HOW THE THOUGHT OF GOD
ATTRACTS!

O, How the thought of God attracts
And draws the heart from earth,
And sickens it of passing shows
And dissipating mirth!

God only is the creature's home;
Though long and rough the road,
Yet nothing less can satisfy

The love that longs for God.

O, utter but the name of God

Down in your heart of hearts,
And see how from the world at once
All tempting light departs.

A trusting heart, a yearning eye,
Can win their way above;

If mountains can be moved by faith,
Is there less power in love?

How little of that road, my soul,

How little hast thou gone!

Take heart, and let the thought of God Allure thee farther on.

Dole not thy duties out to God,

But let thy hand be free; Look long at Jesus; his sweet blood, How was it dealt to thee?

The perfect way is hard to flesh;
It is not hard to love;

If thou wert sick for want of God,
How swiftly wouldst thou move!

FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER.

THE CHANGED CROSS.

It was a time of sadness, and my heart,
Although it knew and loved the better part,
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife,
And all the needful discipline of life.

And while I thought on these, as given to me,
My trial-tests of faith and love to be,
It seemed as if I never could be sure
That faithful to the end I should endure.

And thus, no longer trusting to his might
Who says, "We walk by faith and not by sight,"
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair,
The thought arose, "My cross I cannot bear.

"Far heavier its weight must surely be
Than those of others which I daily see;
Oh! if I might another burden choose,
Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose."

A solemn silence reigned on all around,
E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound;
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell,
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell.

A moment's pause, and then a heavenly light
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight;
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere,
And angels' music thrilled the balmy air.

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see,
One to whom all the others bowed the knee,
Came gently to me, as I trembling lay,
And, "Follow me," he said; "I am the Way."

Then, speaking thus, he led me far above,
And there, beneath a canopy of love,
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen,
Larger and smaller than my own had been.

For it will be an easy one to bear."

And so the little cross I quickly took,
But all at once my frame beneath it shook ;
The sparkling jewels, fair were they to see,
But far too heavy was their weight for me.
"This may not be," I cried, and looked again,
To see if there was any here could ease my pain ;
But, one by one, I passed them slowly by,
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye.

Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined,
And grace and beauty seemed in it combined.
Wondering, I gazed, and still I wondered more,
To think so many should have passed it o'er.