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Thro' bright self-offering, earnest, child-like, lone,

For mounting to thy throne!

And let my soul, upborne

On wings of inner morn,

Find, in illumined secrecy, the sense

Of that blest work, its own high recompense.

The dimness melts away,

That on your glory lay,

O ye majestic watchers of the skies!

Through the dissolving veil,

Which made each aspect pale,

Your gladd'ning fires once more I recognize;

And once again a shower

Of hope, and joy, and power,

Streams on my soul from

your immortal eyes.

And, if that splendour to my sobered sight

Come tremulous, with more of pensive lightSomething, though beautiful, yet deeply fraught, With more that pierces thro' each fold of thought

Than I was wont to trace

On Heaven's unshadowed face

Be it e'en so!-be mine, tho' set apart

Unto a radiant ministry, yet still

A lowly, fearful, self-distrusting heart;

Bow'd before thee, O Mightiest! whose blest will All the pure stars rejoicingly fulfil.

THE TRAVELLER'S EVENING SONG.

FATHER, guide me! Day declines,

Hollow winds are in the pines;

Darkly waves each giant bough

O'er the sky's last crimson glow;
Hush'd is now the convent's bell,
Which erewhile with breezy swell
From the purple mountains bore
Greeting to the sunset-shore.

Now the sailor's vesper-hymn

Dies away.

Father! in the forest dim,

Be my stay!

In the low and shivering thrill

Of the leaves that late hung still;

In the dull and muffled tone

Of the sea-wave's distant moan;

In the deep tints of the sky,

There are signs of tempest nigh.

Ominous, with sullen sound,

Falls the closing dusk around.

Father! through the storm and shade

O'er the wild,

Oh! be Thou the lone one's aid

Save thy child!

Many a swift and sounding plume

Homewards, through the boding gloom,

O'er my way hath flitted fast,

Since the farewell sunbeam pass'd

From the chesnut's ruddy bark,

And the pools, now lone and dark, Where the wakening night-winds sigh Through the long reeds mournfully.

Homeward, homeward, all things hasteGod of might!

Shield the homeless midst the waste,

Be his light!

In his distant cradle nest,

Now my babe is laid to rest;
Beautiful his slumber seems

With a glow of heavenly dreams,
Beautiful, o'er that bright sleep,

Hang soft eyes of fondness deep,

Where his mother bends to pray,

For the loved and far away.—

Father! guard that household bower,

Hear that prayer!

Back, through thine all-guiding power, Lead me there!

Darker, wilder, grows the night

Not a star sends quivering light

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