It is a happy thing to dream

When rosy thoughts and visions bright Pour on the soul a golden stream

Of rich luxurious delight;

It is a weary thing to dream,

When from the hot and aching brain
As from a boiling caldron steam
The myriad forms in fancy's train;

It is a curious thing to dream,

When shapes grotesque of all quaint things Like laughing water-witches seem To sport in reason's turbid springs;

It is a glorious thing to dream,

When full of wings and full of eyes Borne on the whirlwind or sunbeam We race along the startled skies;

It is a wondrous thing to dream

Of tumbling with a fearful shock
From some tall cliff where eagles scream,
-To light upon a feather rock;

It is a terrible thing to dream

Of strangled throats, and heart-blood spilt, And ghosts that in the darkness gleam, And horrid eyes of midnight guilt :—

INFANT CHRIST, WITH FLOWERS.

Who shall tell me what I dream?

Ages lingering in a night,

Thronging thoughts of things that teem
With wonder, terror, and delight!

INFANT CHRIST, WITH FLOWERS.

YES, I can fancy, in the spring

Of childhood's sunny hours,

That Nature's infant Priest and King

Loved to gaze on flowers;

For lightly, 'mid the wreck of all,
When torn from Eden's bowers,

Above the billows of the fall
Floated gentle flowers:

Unfallen, sinless, undefiled,

Fresh bathed in summer showers,
What wonder that the holy Child
Loved to play with flowers?

In these He saw His Father's face,
All Godhead's varied powers,
And joy'd each attribute to trace
In sweet unconscious flowers:

In these He found where Wisdom hides
And modest Beauty cowers,
And where Omnipotence resides,
And Tenderness,-in flowers!

197

Innocent Child, a little while,

Ere yet the tempest lowers,

Bask Thy young heart in Nature's smile,
Her lovely smile of flowers;

Thy young heart,—is it not array'd
In feelings such as ours?—

Yes, being now of thorns afraid,

I see Thee crown'd with flowers.

HIS HONOUR IN SALVATION.

O MARVEL! that All-holy GoD, The LORD,
The glorious King by heaven and earth adored,
Monarch of those bright million worlds above,
And centre of their worship and their love,-
That He, the Mighty One, the Fountain-head
Of every praise, through wide creation spread,
Should deign to claim as honour-" honour great "-
The sinner's rescue from his lost estate!

That He, in loving warmth, should condescend
To ask me for my heart, as friend with friend;
Yea, should be kindly jealous, yearning still
To win a creature's love, and charm his will,
By the soft eloquence of pardoning grace,
And showing me my Father's smiling face!
Whispering me too, that there is joy in heaven,
"More joy" when I repent and am forgiven,
And that, although my heart's poor flame burns dim,
He loves that altar-fire, as lit for Him!

BLUCHER'S "FORWARDS!"

199

BLUCHER'S "FORWARDS!"

BRAVO! brave old Teuton heart,

Noble "Marshal Forwards!"

Bravo! every better part,—
Nature, Providence, and Art,—

All are shouting Forwards;

If we gain, to gain the more,
Pressing on to things before,

Ever marching forwards;
If we lose,-by swift attack
Soon to win those losses back

By the rule of-Forwards!

Forwards; it's the way of life,

Always urging forwards,

Be it peace, or be it strife,
Stagnant-ripe, or tempest-rife,

All is moving forwards;

Generations live and die,
Stars are journeying on the sky

By the law of forwards;
Space and Time, and you, and I,
All-but God's Eternity-

Tend for ever forwards!

So, good youth, go on and win!

Conquest lives in Forwards;

Go, if once you well begin,

Steering clear of self and sin,

Forwards, ever forwards!

Never could the foe withstand

Honest Blucher's one command,

Forwards, soldiers! forwards,—

Never shall the foe be met

Bold enough to front thee yet,

If thy face is Forwards!

ASPIRE.

HIGHER, higher, ever higher,-
Let thy watchword be " Aspire !"
Noble Christian youth;

Whatsoe'er be GOD's behest,

Try to do that duty best

In the strength of Truth.

Let a just ambition fire
Every motive and desire

GOD and man to serve :

Man, with zeal and honour due,
GOD, with gratitude most true,
And all the spirit's nerve!

Let not Doubt thine efforts tire,
GOD will give what all require,-
Raiment, home, and food!