a youth, and many a maiden
Meekly and devoutly bow,
And from worldly cares unladen
Ratify a Christian's vow.

Hark! what voice subdued and holy
In that deep and tender tone,
Prays upon those suppliants lonely
Christ's eternal benison!

God! who call'st them to inherit
Joys no mortal tongue can speak,
Guide them with thy gracious Spirit
Through the storms that round them break.

When thou seest these children straying
From the way thy word imparts,
Then, thine anger yet delaying,
Renovate their faltering hearts.

If provoked by strong temptation
From thy paths again they swerve,
If in prideful elevation
They forget the God they serve,

Then by timely, mild correction,
Lead them, wheresoe'er they roam,
Fan the embers of affection
For their Father and their Home.

* * * * *

MIDNIGHT.

Midnight is on the earth:
Flowers that in darkness bloom,
Their odorous life pour forth
Beneath the gloom.
O'er palace and o'er stall
Her sable curtain spread,
Mantles within its pall
The living dead!

Midnight is on the sea:
A soft and still repose
Steals o'er the untroubled lea
That darkly glows.
Hushed in their ocean caves
The winds their sleep prolong,
Or mourn along the waves
In dreamlike song.

Midnight is in the Heaven:
The planets of the air
To her as vassals given,
Wander and worship there.
No sound comes from her throne,
Piled in those lofty skies,
Calmly she broods upon
Her own deep mysteries.

Yet in her silence deep,
There breathes a language fraught
With spell to wake and keep
The energies of thought;
And on her awful brow
Strange characters appear,
The portraitures to show
Of the advancing year.

Night is a fearful book,
And in her darkling skies
Did Seers and Magi look,
Searching earth's destinies.
But oh! had I the power
To ancient science given,
I would not use this hour
To rifle Heaven.

The night is Memory's sphere,
In light and shadow cast;
In her dim disk appear
The last--the past.
The lov'd ones of our youth
Hasten'd to life's last bourne;
Dear to the heart's deep truth,