Chill'd by snow or scorch'd by flame,
Thou for ever art the same.

Type of truth, and emblem fair

Of virtue struggling through despair,—
Close may sorrows hem it round,
Troubles bend it to the ground,
Yet the soul within is calm,

Dreads no anguish, fears no harm;
Conscious that the Hand which tries
All its latent energies,

Can, with more than equal power,
Bear it through temptation's hour,
Still the conflict, soothe its sighs,
And plant it 'neath congenial skies.

XXVII.

THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS.

WE walked along, while bright and red

Uprose the morning sun;

And Matthew stopped, and looked, and said, "The will of God be done!"

A village Schoolmaster was he,
With hair of glittering gray;
As blithe a man as you could see
On a spring holiday.

And on that morning, through the grass
And by the steaming rills,
We travelled merrily, to pass
A day among the hills.

Then, from thy breast what thought,

Beneath so beautiful a sun,

So sad a sigh has brought ?"

A second time did Matthew stop;
And fixing still his eye

Upon the eastern mountain-top,
To me he made reply:

"Yon cloud, with that long purple cleft, Brings fresh into my mind

A day like this, which I have left

Full thirty years behind.

F

"And just above yon slope of corn

Such colours, and no other, Were in the sky that April morn, Of this the very brother.

"With rod and line I sued the sport

Which that sweet season gave,

And, coming to the church, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave.

"Nine summers had she scarcely seen,

The pride of all the vale ;

And then she sang-she would have been A very nightingale.

"Six feet in earth my Emma lay;

And yet I loved her more,

For so it seemed, that till that day

I e'er had loved before.

"And, turning from her grave I met,
Beside the churchyard yew,

A blooming girl, whose hair was wet
With points of morning dew.

"A basket on her head she bare; Her brow was smooth and white: To see a child so very fair,

It was a pure delight!

"No fountain from its rocky cave
E'er tripped with foot so free;
She seemed as happy as a wave
That dances on the sea.

"There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine;

I looked at her, and looked again:
-And did not wish her mine."

Matthew is in his grave, yet now,
Methinks, I see him stand,
As at that moment, with a bough
Of wilding in his hand.

XXVIII.

SELF-EXAMINATION.

LET not soft slumbers close my eyes,
Before I've recollected thrice

The train of actions through the day:
Where have my feet mark'd out their way?
What have I learnt where'er I've been,
From all I've heard-from all I've seen ?
What know I more, that 's worth the knowing?
What have I done, that 's worth the doing?
What have I sought, that I should shun?
What duties have I left undone;

Or into what new follies run?
These self-inquiries are the road
That lead to virtue and to God.

XXIX.

TO SOPHIA.

WHERE do I love to see

The one so dear to me?

Is it at the halls of dazzling light,

Where beauty, with her magic wand,