ed peace to gain.

On thee, O Lord, on thee therefore,
My musings now I place;
Thy free remission I implore,
And thy refreshing grace.

Forgive thou me, that when my mind
Oppressed began to be,
I sought elsewhere my peace to find,
Before I came to thee.

And, gracious God, vouchsafe to grant,
Unworthy though I am,
The needful rest which now I want,
That I may praise thy name.

Before examining the volume, one would say that no man could write so
many hymns without frequent and signal failure. But the marvel here is,
that the hymns are all so very far from bad. He can never have written in
other than a gentle mood. There must have been a fine harmony in his
nature, that _kept_ him, as it were. This peacefulness makes him
interesting in spite of his comparative flatness. I must restrain remark,
however, and give five out of twelve stanzas of another of his hymns.

A ROCKING HYMN.

Sweet baby, sleep; what ails my dear?
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Be still, my child, and lend thine ear
To hear me sing thy lullaby.
My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.

Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing,
For thee great blessings ripening be;
Thine eldest brother is a king,
And hath a kingdom bought for thee.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

A little infant once was he,
And strength in weakness then was laid
Upon his virgin mother's knee,
That power to thee might be conveyed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Within a manger lodged thy Lord,
Where oxen lay, and asses fed;
Warm rooms we do to thee afford,
An easy cradle or a bed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou hast, yet more to perfect this,
A promise and an earnest got,
Of gaining everlasting bliss,
Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

I think George Wither's verses will grow upon the reader of them, tame as
they are sure to appear at first. His _Hallelujah, or Britain's Second
Remembrancer_, from which I have been quoting, is well worth possessing,
and can be procured without difficulty.

We now come to a new sort, both of man and poet--still a clergyman. It is
an especial pleasure to write the name of Robert