66

NON ANGLI-SED ANGeli." BRIGHT-hair'd company of youthful slaves,

Beautiful strangers, stand within the pale
Of a sad market, ranged for public sale,
Where Tiber's stream the immortal City laves :
ANGLI by name; and not an ANGEL waves

His wing who could seem lovelier to man's eye
Than they appear to holy Gregory;

Who, having learnt that name, salvation craves
For them and for their land. The earnest Sire,
His questions urging, feels, in slender ties

Of chiming sound, commanding sympathies; DE-IRIANS—he would save them from God's IRE; Subjects of Saxon ÆLLA—they shall sing Glad HALLE-lujahs to the eternal King!

Wordsworth.

THE VAUDOIS.

UT whence came they who for the Saviour
Lord.

Have long borne witness as the Scriptures teach ?

Ages ere Valdo raised his voice to preach In Gallic ears the unadulterate Word,

Their fugitive progenitors explored

Subalpine vales, in quest of safe retreats
Where that pure Church survives, though sum-

mer heats

Open a passage to the Romish sword,

Far as it dares to follow. Herbs self-sown,

And fruitage gather'd from the chestnut wood, Nourish the sufferers then; and mists, that brood O'er chasms with new-fallen obstacles bestrown, Protect them; and the eternal snow that daunts Aliens, is God's good winter for their haunts. Wordsworth.

OT seldom, clad in radiant vest,
Deceitfully goes forth the morn;
Not seldom evening in the west
Sinks smilingly forsworn.

The smoothest seas will sometimes prove,

To the confiding bark, untrue;

And if she trusts the stars above,
They can be treacherous too.

The umbrageous oak, in pomp outspread,
Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,

Draws lightnings down upon the head
It promised to defend.

But Thou art true, incarnate Lord!
Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;
Thy smile is sure, Thy plighted word
No change can falsify!

I bent before Thy gracious throne,
And ask'd for peace on suppliant knee;
And peace was given,-nor peace alone,
But faith, sublimed to ecstasy !

Wordsworth.

66 BEHOLD, YOUR HOUSE IS LEFT UNTO YOU DESOLATE."

JALLEN is thy throne, O Israel !
Silence is o'er thy plains;

Thy dwellings all lie desolate,

Thy children weep in chains.

Where are the dews that fed thee

On Etham's barren shore?

That fire from heaven which led thee,

Now lights thy path no more.

Lord! Thou didst love Jerusalem,
Once she was all Thy own;
Her love Thy fairest heritage,
Her power Thy glory's throne :
Till evil came and blighted

Thy long-loved olive-tree;
And Salem's shrines were lighted
For other gods than Thee!

Then sunk the star of Solyma;
Then pass'd her glory's day;
Like heath that, in the wilderness,
The wild wind whirls away.
Silent and waste her bowers,
Where once the mighty trod,
And sunk those guilty towers,
While Baal reign'd as God!

"Go," said the Lord, "ye conquerors!
Steep in her blood your swords,
And rase to earth her battlements,
For they are not the Lord's!
Till Sion's mournful daughter
O'er kindred bones shall tread,
And Hinnom's vale of slaughter

Shall hide but half her dead!

دو

Moore.

HEN Israel, of the Lord beloved,

Out from the land of bondage came,
Her fathers' God before her moved,
An awful guide, in smoke and flame.
By day, along the astonish'd lands

The cloudy pillar glided slow;
By night, Arabia's crimson'd sands
Return'd the fiery column's glow.

Then rose the choral hymn of praise,
And trump and timbrel answer'd keen;
And Zion's daughters pour'd their lays,
With priests' and warriors' voice between.
No portents now our foes amaze;

Forsaken Israel wanders lone;

Our fathers would not know Thy ways,
And Thou hast left them to their own.