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NIGHT is the time for rest;
How sweet, when labours close,
To gather round an aching breast
The curtain of repose,
Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head
Down on our own delightful bed!
Night is the time for dreams;
The gay romance of life,
When truth that is, and truth that seems,
Mix in fantastic strife;
Ah! visions, less beguiling far
Than waking dreams by day-light are!
Night is the time for toil;
To plough the classic field, Intent to find the buried spoil
Its wealthy furrows yield;
Till all is ours that sages taught,
That poets sang, and heroes wrought.
Night is the time to weep;
To wet with unseen tears
Those graves of Memory, where sleep
Hopes, that were angels at their birth,
Night is the time to watch;
O'er ocean's dark expanse,
To hail the Pleiades, or catch
Night is the time for care;
Brooding on hours misspent,
To see the spectre of Despair,
Like Brutus, 'midst his slumbering host,
Night is the time to think;
When, from the eye, the soul
Takes flight, and, on the utmost brink
Discerns beyond the abyss of night
Night is the time to pray;
Our Saviour oft withdrew To desert mountains far away; So will his followers do
Steal from the throng to haunts untrod, And commune there alone with God.
Night is the time for death;
When all around is peace,
Calmly to yield the weary breath,
Think of heaven's bliss, and give the sign.
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Sir W. Scott.
THE day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away!What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll,
And louder yet, and yet more dread,
Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,
HYMN OF NATURE.
W. O. Peabody.
GOD of the earth's extended plains!
Where man might commune with the sky : The tall cliff challenges the storm
That lours upon the vale below,
Where shaded fountains send their streams,
God of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
Till the fierce trumpet of the storm
Hath summon'd up their thundering bands;
Then the white sails are dash'd like foam,
God of the forest's solemn shade!
When, side by side, their ranks they form,
God of the light and viewless air!
That hardly lifts the drooping flower,
God of the fair and open sky!
How gloriously above us springs The tented dome, of heavenly blue, Suspended on the rainbow's rings !