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What atom forms of insect life appear!
As through the woods with cautious step he moves.
What shining arms his polish'd limbs enchase!
THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.
THERE is a reaper, whose name is Death,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
"Shall I have nought that is fair?" saith he ; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again."
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kiss'd their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.
"My lord has need of these flowerets gay,"
Where He was once a child.
They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
She knew she should find them all again
O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.
IF earth hath aught that speaks to us of Heaven,
On music's wings through the clear ether driven :—
Haste to this temple, tidings ye shall hear,
Ye who are sorrowful, and sick in soul,
Your griefs to soothe, your downcastness to cheer, To bind affliction's wounds, and make you whole; Come here come here-though like the Tyrian dye Guilt hath polluted you, yet, white as snow, From the eternal streams that hither flow, Hence ye shall pass to meet your Maker's eye."
THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.
THE stately homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land!
The deer across their green sward bound
Through shade and sunny gleam,
And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
The merry homes of England!
Around their hearths by night,
What gladsome looks of household love
Meet in the ruddy light!
There woman's voice flows forth in song,
Or childhood's tale is told;
Or lips move tunefully along
Some glorious page of old.
The cottage homes of England!
By thousands on her plains
They are smiling o'er the silv'ry brook,
And round the hamlet-fanes;
Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;
As the bird beneath their eaves.
The free fair homes of England!
May hearts of native proof be rear'd
And green for ever be the groves,
Where first the child's glad spirit loves
THE fiery courser, when he hears from far