The distant bleating, midway up the hill. The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale; The voice of psalms,-the simple song of praise. With dove-like wings, Peace o'er yon village broods: Less fearful, on this day, the limping hare And as his stiff, unwieldy bulk he rolls, But chiefly man the day of rest enjoys. Hail, Sabbath! thee I hail, the poor man's day. On other days, the man of toil is doomed To eat his joyless bread lonely,—the ground Both seat and board, screened from the winter's cold' And summer's heat, by neighboring hedge or tree; But on this day, embosomed in his home, He shares the frugal meal with those he loves; With those he loves, he shares the heart-felt joy Of giving thanks to God,—not thanks of form, A word and a grimace; but reverently, With covered face, and upward, earnest eye. Hail, Sabbath! thee I hail, the poor man's day: tiny dew-bent flowers that bloom ts roots; and while he thus surveys, vated joy, each rural charm, 3,-yet fears presumption in the hope,ven may be one Sabbath without end. LESSON CXIII. The Evening Cloud: a Sonnet.-WILSON. UD lay cradled near the setting sunleam of crimson tinged its braided snow; had I watched the glory moving on, r the still radiance of the lake below. uil its spirit seemed, and floated slow; n in its very motion there was rest, every breath of eve, that chanced to blow, fted the traveller to the beauteous westem, methought, of the departed soul, whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, by the breath of mercy made to roll ht onward to the golden gates of heaven; e, to the eye of faith, it peaceful ies, ells to man his glorious destinies. LESSON CXIV. Twilight,-Hope.-HALLECK. as an evening twilight of the heart, e eye sees life's fairy scenes depart, Tis with a nameless feeling of regret But Hope is round us, with her angel lay, Dear are her whispers still, though lost their early power. In youth, the cheek was crimsoned with her glow; We knew not, cared not, it was born to die. And manhood felt her sway, too; on the eye, And though, at times, might lower the thunder-storm, Was balmy with her breath, and her loved form, 'Tis in life's noontide she is nearest seen, Her wreath the summer flower, her robe of summer green But though less dazzling in her twilight dress, There's more of heaven's pure beam about her now; That angel-smile of tranquil loveliness, Which the heart worships, glowing on her brow— And hushed the last deep beating of the heart,- LESSON CXV. Perpetual Adoration.-MOORE. E turf shall be my fragrant shrine; temple, Lord, that arch of thine; - censer's breath the mountain airs, d silent thoughts my only prayers. - choir shall be the moonlight waves, en murmuring homeward to their caves; when the stillness of the sea, en more than music, breathes of thee. seek, by day, some glade unknown, y heaven, on which 'tis bliss to look, all be my pure and shining book, here I shall read, in words of flame, e glories of thy wondrous name. read thy anger in the rack, at clouds awhile the day-beam's track; ■y mercy, in the azure hue sunny brightness, breaking through. ere's nothing bright, above, below, om flowers that bloom, to stars that glow, t in its light my soul can see me feature of thy Deity! here's nothing dark, below, above, LESSON CXVI. Music of Nature.—PIERPONT. In what rich harmony, what polished lays, Yes, Lord, she sings thee, but she knows not why. Music, thy hand awakes, for man to hear. LESSON CXVII. Comparison of Watches.-Miss Edgeworth. WHEN Griselda thought that her husband had long enough njoyed his new existence, and that there was danger of his orgetting the taste of sorrow, she changed her tone.—One ay, when he had not returned home exactly at the appointed inute, she received him with a frown; such as would have ade even Mars himself recoil, if Mars could have beheld ach a frown upon the brow of his Venus. "Dinner has been kept waiting for you this hour, my dear." "I am very sorry for it; but why did you wait, my dear am really very sorry I am so late, but" (looking at his watch) it is only half past six by me." |