Thus shall not man forget his wo?
Survive of age and death the gloom?
Smile at the cares he knew below?
And, renovated, burst the tomb ?

O, my Creator! when thy will

Shall stretch this frame on earth's cold bed, Let that blest hope sustain me still,

'Till thought, sense, memory-all are fled. And, grateful for what thou may'st give, No tear shall dim my fading eye, That 'twas thy pleasure I should live, That 'tis thy mandate bids me die.

LESSON XC.

The Skies.-BRYANT.

Ay, gloriously thou standest there,
Beautiful, boundless firmament!
That, swelling wide o'er earth and air,
And round the horizon bent,
With that bright vault and sapphire wall,
Dost overhang and circle all.

Far, far below thee, tall gray trees
Arise, and piles built up of old,

And hills, whose ancient summits freeze
In the fierce light and cold.

The cagle soars his utmost height;

Yet far thou stretchest o'er his flight.

Thou hast thy frowns: with thee, on high,
The storm has made his airy seat:
Beyond thy soft blue curtain lie

His stores of hail and sleet:
Thence the consuming lightnings break;
There the strong hurricanes awake.

Yet art thou prodigal of smiles

Smiles sweeter than thy frowns are stern
Earth sends, from all her thousand isles,
A song at their return:

The glory that comes down from thee
Bathes in deep joy the land and sea.

The sun, the gorgeous sun, is thine,

The pomp that brings and shuts the day, The clouds that round him change and shine, The airs that fan his way.

Thence look the thoughtful stars, and there
The meek moon walks the silent air.

The sunny Italy may boast

The beauteous tints that flush her skies,
And lovely, round the Grecian coast,
May thy blue pillars rise :-

I only know how fair they stand
About my own beloved land.

And they are fair: a charm is theirs,

That earth-the proud, green earth-has not,
With all the hues, and forms, and airs,
That haunt her sweetest spot.

We gaze upon thy calm, pure sphere,
And read of heaven's eternal year.

Oh! when, amid the throng of men,

The heart grows sick of hollow mirth,

How willingly we turn us, then,
Away from this cold earth,
And look into thy azure breast,
For seats of innocence aud rest!

LESSON XCI.

Address to the Stars.-NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE

YE are fair, ye are fair; and your pensive rays Steal down like the light of parted days; But have sin and sorrow ne'er wandered o'er shore ?

The

abodes of each sunny green Hath no frost been there, and no withering,blast, Cold, cold, o'er the flower and the forest, passed?

Does the playful leaf never fall nor fade?
The rose ne'er droop in the silent shade?
Say, comes there no cloud on your morning beam ?
On your night of beauty no troubled dream?
Have ye no tear the eye to annoy?

No grief to shadow its light of joy?

No bleeding breasts, that are doomed to part?.
No blighted bower, and no broken heart?

Hath death ne'er saddened your scenes of bloom?
Have your suns ne'er shone on the silent tomb?
Did their sportive radiance never fall

On the cypress tree or the ruined wall?—
"Twere vain to guess;
hath seen

for no eye

O'er the gulf eternally fixed between.

We hear not the song of your early hours;
We hear not the hymn of your evening bowers.
The strains that gladden each radiant sphere
Ne'er poured their sweets on a mortal ear;
Though such I could deem, on the evening's sigh,
The air-harp's unearthly melody!

Farewell, farewell! I go to my rest;
For the shades are passing into the west,
And the beacon pales on its lonely height.
Isles of the blessed, good-night, good-night!

LESSON XCII.

Song of the Stars.-BRYANT.

WHEN the radiant morn of creation broke, And the world in the smile of God awoke, And the empty realms of darkness and death Were moved through their depths by his mighty breath, And orbs of beauty, and spheres of flame, From the void abyss, by myriads came, In the joy of youth, as they darted away, Through the widening wastes of space to play, Their silver voices in chorus rung;

And this was the song the bright ones sung:

(6 Away, away! through the wide, wide sky,— The fair blue fields that before us lie,

Each sun, with the worlds that round us roll,
Each planet, poised on her turning pole,
With her isles of green, and her clouds of white,
And her waters that lie like fluid light.

"For the Source of glory uncovers his face,
And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space;
And we drink, as we go, the luminous tides
In our ruddy air and our blooming sides.
Lo, yonder the living splendors play :
Away, on our joyous path away!

"Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar,

In the infinite azure, star after star,

How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass !
How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass!

And the path of the gentle winds is seen,

Where the small waves dance, and the young woods lean.

"And see, where the brighter day-beams pour,
How the rainbows hang in the sunny shower;
And the morn and the eve, with their pomp of hues,
Shift o'er the bright planets, and shed their dews;
And, 'twixt them both, o'er the teeming ground,
With her shadowy cone, the night goes round!

"Away, away!-in our blossoming bowers,
In the soft air, wrapping these spheres of ours,
In the seas and fountains that shine with morn,
See, love is brooding, and life is born,

And breathing myriads re breaking from night,
To rejoice, like us, in motion and light.

"Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres
To weave the dance that measures the years.
Glide on, in the glory and gladness sent
To the farthest wall of the firmament,-
The boundless visible smile of Him,

To the veil of whose brow our lamps are dim.'

LESSON XCIII.

The Bells of St. Mary's, Limerick.-LONDON LFTERARY

GAZETTE.

"Those evening bells-those evening bells!"

Moore's Nationa! Melodies.

THERE is a delight, which those only can appreciate who nave felt it, in recalling to one's mind, when cast by fortune upon a strange soil and among strangers, the sights and sounds which were familiar to one's infant days. It is pleasant, too, though, perhaps, like the praise of one's own friend, rather obtrusive, to snatch those memories from their rest, and give them to other ears,-to tinge them with an inte rest, and bid them live again. When we perceive, likewise, that places and circumstances of real beauty and curiosity remain neglected and unknown, for want of " some tongue to give their worthiness a voice," there is a gratification to our human pride in the effort to procure them, even for a

space,

A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time

And razure of oblivion.

I shall not, in this letter, as in my last, give any thing characteristic-any thing Irish. I will be dull rather than descend from the elevation I intend to keep; but, in compensation, I will tell you a fine old story; and, if you have but the slightest mingling of poetical feeling in your composition, (and who is there now-a-days that will not pretend to some?) I promise myself that you shall not be disappointed.

The city of Limerick, though surrounded by some very tolerable demesnes,* is sadly deficient in one respect,not an unimportant one in any large town;-there is no public walk of any consequence immediately adjoining it. The canal which leads to Dublin is bleak, from its want of trees; and unhealthy, from the low marshy champaign,[ which lies on either side its banks. * *

But, at the head of this canal, where it divides itself into two branches, which, gradually widening and throwing off their artificial appearance, form a glittering circlet around a small island, which is covered with water shrubs-on this spot I have delightedly reposed in many a sweet sunset,t Pron. sham'pāne.

* Pron. děmains/