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AROUSE THEE, SOUL!

AROUSE thee, Soul!

God made not thee to sleep

Thy hour of earth, in doing naught,-away;
He gave thee power to keep.

Oh! use it for His glory, while you may.

Arouse thee, Soul!

Arouse thee, Soul!

Oh there is much to do

For thee, if thou wouldst work for humankindThe misty Future through,

A greatness looms-'tis MIND, awaken'd MIND! Arouse thee, Soul!

Arouse thee, Soul!

Shake off thy sluggishness,

As shakes the lark the dew-drop from its wing; Make but one Error less,

One Truth-thine offering to MIND'S altar bring! Arouse thee, Soul!

Arouse thee, Soul!

Be what thou surely art,

An emanation from the Deity,

A flutter of that heart

Which fills all Nature, sea, and earth, and sky. Arouse thee, Soul!

Arouse thee, Soul!
And let the body do

Some worthy deed for human happiness

To join, when life is through,

Unto thy name, that angels both may bless!

Arouse thee, Soul!

Arouse thee, Soul!

Leave nothings of the earth;—

And, if the body be not strong, to dare
To blessed thoughts give birth,

High as yon heaven, pure as heaven's air,
Arouse thee, Soul?

Arouse thee, Soul!

Or sleep for evermore,

And be what all nonentities have been,—
Crawl on till life is o'er:

If to be aught but this thou e'er dost mean,
Arouse thee, Soul!

ROBERT NICOLL, 1814-1837.

HYMN TO CONTENTMENT.

LOVELY, lasting peace of mind!
Sweet delight of human kind!
Heavenly-born, and bred on high,
To crown the fav'rites of the sky

With more of happiness below
Than victors in a triumph know!
Whither, oh! whither art thou fled,
To lay thy meek, contented head?
What happy region dost thou please
To make the seat of calms and ease?

Ambition searches all its sphere
Of pomp and state, to meet thee there.
Increasing avarice would find
Thy presence in its gold enshrined.
The bold adventurer ploughs his way
Through rocks amidst the foaming sea
To gain thy love; and then perceives
Thou wert not in the rocks and waves.
The silent heart which grief assails
Treads soft and lonesome o'er the vales,
Sees daisies open, rivers run,
And seeks (as I have vainly done)
Amusing thought; but learns to know
That solitude's the nurse of woe.
No real happiness is found
In trailing purple o'er the ground;
Or in a soul exalted high,

To range the circuit of the sky;
Converse with stars above, and know
All nature in its forms below:

The rest it seeks, in seeking dies,
And doubts at last, for knowledge, rise.

Lovely, lasting peace, appear! This world itself, if thou art here,

Is once again with Eden blest,

And man contains it in his breast.

'Twas thus, as under shade I stood,

I

sung my wishes to the wood, And, lost in thought, no more perceived The branches whisper as they waved; It seem'd as all the quiet place Confess'd the presence of his Grace When thus she spoke :-Go, rule thy will, Bid thy wild passions all be still; Know God, and bring thy heart to know The joys which from religion flow: Then every grace shall prove its guest,

And I'll be there to crown the rest.

Oh! by yonder mossy seat,
In my hours of sweet retreat
Might I thus my soul employ,
With sense of gratitude and joy:
Raised as ancient prophets were,
In heavenly vision, praise, and prayer ;
Pleasing all men, hurting none,
Pleased and bless'd with God alone:
Then while the gardens take my sight
With all the colours of delight;
While silver waters glide along,
To please my ear, and court my song;
I'll lift my voice, and tune my string,
And thee, Great Source of Nature, sing.

D

The sun that walks his airy way,

To light the world, and give the day;
The moon that shines with borrow'd light;
The stars that gild the gloomy night;
The seas that roll unnumber'd waves;
The wood that spreads its shady leaves;
The field whose ears conceal the grain,
The yellow treasure of the plain:
All of these, and all I see,
Should be sung, and sung by me:
They speak their Maker as they can,
But want and ask the tongue of man.

Go search among your idle dreams,
Your busy or your vain extremes,
And find a life of equal bliss,
Or own the next begun in this.

THOMAS PARNELL, 1679-1717.

THE STAR OF STRENGTH.

THE night is come, but not too soon;
And sinking silently,

All silently, the little moon

Drops down behind the sky.

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