At home within thy greenhouse, where thy pen
Rambled at will,

The Task was thine, to trace the paths of men
And take thy fill,

Drinking the dews of life that fall from Zion's hill.

Friendship and love and truth,
Manhood and age and youth,
And nature's page-

The transcripts of a mind

Exalted and refined,

Within thy archives dwell, our spirits to engage.

With sunlight on the stream,

In Cynthia's silver beam,
Sportive, or mild ;—

In joy's transporting hour,

Or veiled in sorrow's shower,

Thy sympathies could melt-thy wit wreathe pastimes

wild.

Thy melting heart

Could well impart

The charities that flowed so softly there;

Thy troubled breast

Could sweetly rest

On woman's words of truth-or rise on wings of prayer.

In soft or sprightly mood-
Friend of the wise and good!
Thy soul can charm ;-

Thou hast a witchery still,

To move us at thy will,

To nerve each high resolve, or love's soft fires to warm.

THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.

Favourites of thought! the kitten in her play,
The timid hare-

Amid thy precincts gay,

The goldfinch with his blithesome roundelay,
Enjoyed thy care;

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Whilst thou didst breathe delight with nature's tenants fair.

Thy filial love could paint in matchless dyes,
One image true ;

Which still survives to charm admiring eyes,

In colours new ;

Thine was a "parent passed into the skies,
And lost to view.

Thine eye was on the cross-
And all beside,

To vanity and earth-born bliss allied,

Thou didst esteem as dross ;

Whilst Jesu's love

Could well invite thy thoughts to sing of worlds above.

Attuned to praise,

Thy lips could raise

Anthems that sounded forth Redemption's plan,

And yield to fame

One glorious name,

With all the wondrous tale that speaks His work for

man.

And thou hast winged thy way

To realms of day,

Befitting thy sublimer destiny;

Thy rest is in the skies,

Thou bird of paradise!

With thee for ever more, the Paraclete shall be.

"For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven."-2 COR. v. 1, 2.

APOLLOS.

SERVANT approved of God! thy labour done,
We see thee from the field, at sunset, gone,
Laden with sheaves of blessing-golden grain
Garnered above, to live and bloom again.
Here thou didst go forth weeping, in thy hand
Bearing the precious seed that cheers the land;
See how those tear-drops fall! a pleading flood
For our lost race, polluted in its blood;
But now thy toil is over, and for thee
Shine worlds of light and immortality;
Thy toils at length are ended,—and thy quill
Dipt deep in themes divine, instructs us still.
How many a page is traversed! whilst thy soul
Was drinking wisdom's pure nectarian bowl,
Fresh from that hidden well-spring-and her wave
To thee the tribute of her blessings gave:

It seemed as if an angel's sainted wing
Passing, had hallowed that perennial spring,
And nerved thy powers to vigour, whilst thy theme
Woven at length, outshines the poet's dream.

APOLLOS.

Who bade thy footsteps to the vineyard go?
Who showed thee where salvation's waters flow?
Who taught thee how amid His church, to pour
The seeds of grace that bloom for evermore?
Who sent thee to His harvest-and at length,
Who crowned thee with His own Almighty strength?
Jesus was thy great Teacher-at His feet
'Twas thine to sit, and love like His to greet;
He was thy Counsellor, thy King, thy Friend.—
He taught thy soul in prostrate fear, to bend,
To make thy large confession-and to plead
The fulness of His grace for all thy need;
And then His hand upraised thee-to proclaim
Through distant hemispheres, His mighty name.

And now farewell! but still this breast retains
The lengthening cadence of thy gospel-strains;
For thou couldst weep with Zion, or rejoice,
And still we hear the music of thy voice.
"Wake up ye thoughtless daughters, and be wise!
"Shake off your dust, and journey for the skies!
"For yon bright towers, your tardy steps prepare!
"Immanuel's land and life's pure springs are there.”
Once more farewell! before the eternal throne,
Shall shine in light, the souls thy zeal hath won,
As jewels in that crown, whose every gem
Pourtrays it as the Saviour's diadem,
Through endless years to glisten, and set forth
The glory of His majesty and worth :

All crowns then laid before Him, thou shalt well,

The mystery of His great redemption, tell.

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"Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old."-MATT. xiii. 52.

THE SEVERED ROSEBUD.

HIGH on a throne, with pomp arrayed,
I saw thy virtues shine ;

But faint and few the votes that made
That glittering pageant thine.

On, to a thorny couch of pain
Ambition's counsels led;
And fond regard and flattery vain
Betrayed thee to the dead.

I saw that brow of princely mould,
By love's soft hand caressed;
That genius lofty, vigorous, bold,
With fame's bright laurels drest.

I saw thee in thy life's young hour,
By virtue's precepts taught ;
Whilst reason's lamp, with quickening power,
Thy steps to wisdom brought.

Obedience gained thee for her own,—

A father's word, thy law;

The steps that raised thee to a throne,
No more thy vestige saw.

Thy cherished years of ripening youth,
With bards and sages grew;

Thy beauty shone, arrayed by truth,
With flowers of loveliest hue.