THE IMAGE OF GOD. FROM FRANCISCO DE ALDANA. O LORD! that seest, from yon starry height, Fashioned in thine own image, see how fast Yet, in the hoary winter of my days, For ever green shall be my trust in heaven. Celestial King! O let thy presence pass Before my spirit, and an image fair Shall meet that look of mercy from on high, As the reflected image in a glass Doth meet the look of him who seeks it there, And owes its being to the gazer's eye. THE BROOK. LAUGH of the mountain!-lyre of bird and tree' As the pure crystal, lets the curious eye Thy secrets scan, thy smooth, round pebbles count! Thou shun'st the haunts of man, to dwell in limpid fount! VI. French. SPRING. FROM CHARLES D'ORLEANS.-XV. CENTURY. GENTLE Spring!-in sunshine clad, And thou,-thou makest the sad heart gay. He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain; Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old, And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold, We must cower over the embers low; And, snugly housed from the wind and weather, Mope like birds that are changing feather. But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear, When thy merry step draws near. Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud; But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh! Thou tearest away the mournful shroud, And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly, Who has toiled for nought both late and early, Is banished afar by the new-born year, When thy merry step draws near. THE CHILD ASLEEP. SWEET babe! true portrait of thy father's face, Upon that tender eye, my little friend, Soft sleep shall come, that cometh not to me! I watch to see thee, nourish thee, defend ;"T is sweet to watch for thee,-alone for thee! His arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow; His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm. Wore not his cheek the apple's ruddy glow, Would you not say he slept on Death's cold arm? Awake, my boy!-I tremble with affright! Awake, and chase this fatal thought!-Unclose Thine eye but for one moment on the light! Sweet error!-he but slept,-I breathe again;— |