And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave:

Above, let care and fear contend,

With sin and sorrow to the end:
Here, far beneath the tainted foam,
That frets above our peaceful home,
We dream in joy, and wake in love,
Nor know the rage that yells above.
There's quiet in the deep.

SUMMER MORNING.

SHORT is the doubtful empire of the night;
And soon, observant of approaching day,
The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint gleaming in the dappled east ;
Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow;
And, from before the lustre of her face,

White break the clouds away. With quicken'd step,
Brown Night retires: young Day pours in apace,
And opens all the lawny prospect wide.

The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top,

Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn.

Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine;

And from the bladed field the fearful hare

Limps, awkward: while along the forest-glade
The wild deer trip, and often turning gaze

At early passenger. Music awakes

The native voice of undissembled joy;

And thick around the woodland hymns arise.

Roused by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves
His mossy cottage, where with peace he dwells;
And from the crowded fold, in order drives
His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn.

The Fir, the Maple, and the Pine,
By strength of form protected,
Look'd down with scorn upon the Vine,
Weak, helpless, and dejected.

"Alas! I own my feebleness;

No friend," she cried, "is near me; Oh! who will pity my distress?

Ah! naught have I to cheer me.

"No branch, no blossom, fruit or stem, Like other trees possessing;

I sigh when I compare with them, -
Now, is it not distressing?

"But hold! I will not make complaint;
Submission has been taught me ;
And though neglected, weak, and faint,
Yet patience shall support me.

"On cheering hope my trust relies;
I know, though long I've waited,
But for some purpose good and wise,
I ne'er had been created."

The Farmer saw the drooping vine,
And set it near his bower;
Supported there, it grew, to shine
In beauty, worth and power.

A clust'ring store, delicious wealth!
Its leaves were soon displaying,
With comfort, cheerfulness and health,
The farmer's care repaying.

For the rich treasure of the vine

Enlivens every station,

With its rich fruit and cheering wine;
Both good in moderation.

And now the farmer daily sees

His charity rewarded;

The vine's reward for patent hope

I have above recorded.

MORAL.

Patience and resignation are sure to meet their reward.

DISCONTENT.

THESE are, says Archbishop Tillotson, beyond comparison, the two greatest evils in this world; a diseased body, and a discontented mind.

The discontented man is ever restless and uneasy, dissatisfied with his station in life, his connexions, and almost every circumstance that happens to him. He is continually peevish and fretful, impatient of every injury he receives, and unduly impressed with every disappointment he suffers. He considers others as happier than himself, and enjoys hardly any of the blessings of providence with a calm and grateful mind. He forms to himself a thousand distressing fears concerning futurity, and makes his condition unhappy, by anticipating the misery he may endure, years to come.

THE PASSIONS.

PASSIONS are strong emotions of the mind, occasioned by the view of approaching good or evil. These emotions are planted in man by Providence, in order to give him activity, and fit him for society. The directing of our passions to improper objects, or suffering them to hurry us away with them, is the great danger in human life.

History is nothing but a catalogue of the miseries brought upon mankind by an improper indulgence of their passions. How ought it to be the constant business of rational creatures to regulate and chastise these internal tyrants! How carefully ought we to guard against yielding to the first impulses! And how ought all our education to be directed to a proper government of them.

Nothing will so effectually contribute to this as a proper sense of religion. Christianity, by a sort of divine alchymy, makes those passions, which have been working for sin, become active in the cause of piety.