In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

"Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe; Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath.

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Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too:

Sweetly, and sweetly blew the breeze

On me alone it blew.

"Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see?

Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree?

"Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns:

And till my ghastly tale is told,

This heart within me burns.

"I pass, like night, from land to land: I have strange power of speech;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me :

To him my tale I teach.

"What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding guests are there :

But in the garden bower the bride
And the bridesmaids singing are:

And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

"O Wedding Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea :

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemèd there to be.

'Oh, sweeter than the marriage feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk

With a goodly company!

"To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

"Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

"He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE

UNDER the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat

Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats

And pleased with what he gets

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

THE GLORY OF GOD

THE heavens declare the glory of God;

And the firmament showeth his handiwork,
Day unto day uttereth speech,

And night unto night showeth knowledge.

There is no speech nor language where their voice is not

heard.

Their line is gone out through all the earth

And their words to the end of the earth.

Whither shall I go from Thy spirit,

Or whither shall I flee from Thy presence?

If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there;

If I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there;

If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;

Even there shall Thy hand lead me,
And Thy right hand shall hold me.

PSALMS.