THE DAISY.

Like lowly white-crowned queen,
Demurely doth she bend,

And stands with quiet mien,
The little children's friend.

NOT worlds on worlds in phalanx deep,
Need we to prove a God is here;
The daisy, fresh from Winter's sleep,
Tells of His hand in lines as clear.

For who but He that arched the skies,
And pours the day-spring's living flood,
Wondrous alike in all He tries,

Could rear the daisy's purple bud,

Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin,

And cut the gold-embossèd gem,

That, set in silver, gleams within,

And fling it, unrestrained and free,

O'er hill, and dale, and desert sod,

That man, where'er he walks, may see,
In every step, the stamp of God?

43

HYMN IN SEED-TIME..

"And other fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up and increased."-St. Mark iv. 8.

"But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.”—Romans vi. 22.

O GOD! by whom the seed is given ;

By whom the harvest blest;

Whose word, like manna showered from heaven,

Is planted in our breast;

Preserve it from the passing feet,

And plunderers of the air;
The sultry sun's intenser heat,
And weeds of worldly care!

Though buried deep or thinly strewn,
Do Thou thy grace supply;

The hope in earthly furrows sown
Shall ripen in the sky!

"Stormy wind fulfilling His word.”—Psalm cxlviii. 8.

LOVED to walk where none had walked before,
About the rocks that ran along the shore;
Or far beyond the sight of men to stray,
And take my pleasure when I lost my way.
For then 'twas mine to trace the hilly heath,
And all the mossy moor that lies beneath.
Here had I favourite stations where I stood,
And heard the murmurs of the ocean flood,
With not a sound beside, except when flew,
Aloft, the lapwing, or the grey curlew,
Who with wild notes my fancied power defied,
And mocked the dreams of solitary pride.
I loved to stop at every creek and bay
Made by the river in its winding way,
And call to memory-not by marks they bare,
But by the thoughts that were created there.
Pleasant it was to view the sea-gulls strive

Against the storm, or in the ocean dive,

With eager scream; or when they dropping gave

Their closing wings to sail upon the wave:

Then, as the winds and waters raged around,

And breaking billows mixed their deafening sound,

They on the rolling deep securely hung,

And calmly rode the restless waves among.