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From Thee is all that soothes the life of man,
His high endeavour, and his glad success,
His strength to suffer, and his will to serve.
But oh, Thou Sovereign Giver of all good,
Thou art of all Thy gifts Thyself the crown;
Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are poor,
And with Thee rich, take what thou wilt away."

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LADIES, well I deem, delight

In comely tire to move;
Soft, and delicate, and bright,
Are the robes they love.

Silks, where hues alternate play,
Shawls, and scarfs, and mantles gay,
Gold, and gems, and crispèd hair,
Fling their light o'er lady fair.
'Tis not waste, nor sinful pride,—
Name them not, nor fault beside, -
But her very cheerfulness

Prompts and weaves the curious dress
While her holy thoughts still roam
'Mid birth-friends and scenes of home.
Pleased to please whose praise is dear,
Glitters she? she glitters there ;-
And she has a pattern found her
In Nature's glowing world around her.

Nature loves, as lady bright,

In gayest guise to shine,

All forms of grace, all tints of light,
Fringe her robe divine.

Sun-lit heaven, and rain-bow cloud,
Changeful main, and mountain proud,
Branching tree, and meadow green,
All are deck'd in broider'd sheen.
Not a bird on bough-propp'd tower,

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MY LADY NATURE AND HER DAUGHTERS

Insect slim, nor tiny flower,

Stone, nor spar, nor shell of sea,
But is fair in its degree.

'Tis not pride, this vaunt of beauty;
Well she 'quits her trust of duty;
And, amid her gorgeous state,
Bright, and bland, and delicate,
Ever beaming from her face
Praise of a Father's love we trace.

Ladies, shrinking from the view
Of the prying day,

In tranquil diligence pursue

Their heaven-appointed way.
Noiseless duties, silent cares,
Mercies lighting unawares,
Modest influence working good,
Gifts, by the keen heart understood,
Such as viewless spirits might give,
These they love, in these they live. -
Mighty Nature speeds her through
Her daily toils in silence too:
Calmly rolls her giant spheres,

Sheds by stealth her dew's kind tears;
Cheating sage's vex'd pursuit,
Churns the sap, matures the fruit,
And, her deft hand still congealing,
Kindles motion, life, and feeling.

Ladies love to laugh and sing,

To rouse the chord's full sound,

Or to join the festive ring

Where dancers gather round.

Not a sight so fair on earth,
As a lady's graceful mirth;
Not a sound so chasing pain,
As a lady's thrilling strain. —
Nor is Nature left behind
In her lighter moods of mind;
Calm her duties to fulfil,
In her glee a prattler still.
Bird and beast of every sort
Hath its antic and its sport ;
Chattering brook, and dancing gnat,
Subtle cry of evening bat,

Moss uncouth, and twigs grotesque,
These are Nature's picturesque.

Where the birth of Poesy?

Its fancy and its fire?
Nature's earth, and sea, and sky,

Fervid thoughts inspire.

Where do wealth and power find rest,

When hopes have fail'd, or toil oppress'd?

Parks, and lawns, and deer, and trees,
Nature's work, restore them ease.
Rare the rich, the gifted rare,
Where shall work-day souls repair,
Unennobled, unrefined,

From the rude world and unkind?
Who shall friend their lowly lot?
High-born Nature answers not.
Leave her in her starry dome,
Seek we lady-lighted home.

Nature 'mid the spheres bears sway,
Ladies rule where hearts obey.

Oxford, February 4, 1829.

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TIME was, I shrank from what was right
From fear of what was wrong;
I would not brave the sacred fight,
Because the foe was strong.

But now I cast that finer sense
And sorer shame aside;
Such dread of sin was indolence,
Such aim at Heaven was pride.

So, when my Saviour calls, I rise,
And calmly do my best;
Leaving to Him, with silent eyes
Of hope and fear, the rest.

I step, I mount where He has led,
Men count my haltings o'er ;-
I know them; yet though self I dread,
I love His precept more.

Lazaret, Malta, January 13, 1833.

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I HAVE been honour'd and obey'd,
I have met scorn and slight;
And my heart loves earth's sober shade,
More than her laughing light.

For what is rule but a sad weight
Of duty and a snare?

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