66 DARK THE FAITH OF DAYS OF YORE. 151

Thou, Lord, alone, art all thy children need,
And there is none beside;

From thee the streams of blessedness proceed;
In thee the blest abide;

Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place.

"DARK THE FAITH OF DAYS OF YORE."

ALTERED FROM COLERIDGE.

FOX'S COLLECTION.

DARK the faith of days of

"And at evening evermore

yore,

Did the chanters, sad and saintly,
Yellow tapers burning faintly,

Doleful masses chant to thee,
Miserere, Domine!"

Bright the faith of coming days;
And when dawn the kindling rays
Of heaven's golden lamp ascending,
Happy hearts, and voices blending,
Joyful anthems chant to thee,

Te laudamus, Domine!

Night's sad "cadence dies away
On the yellow, moonlit sea;

The boatmen rest their oars, and say,
Miserere, Domine!"

Morn's glad chorus swells alway
On the azure, sunlit sea;

The boatmen ply their oars, and say,
Te laudamus, Domine!

HYMN OF THE CITY.

W. C. BRYANT.

NOT in the solitude

Alone, may man commune with Heaven, or see

Only in savage wood,

Or sunny vale, the present Deity;
Or only hear his voice

Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice.

Even here do I behold

Thy steps, Almighty!- here, amidst the crowd Through the great city rolled,

With everlasting murmur, deep and loud,

Choking the ways that wind

'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind.

HYMN OF THE CITY.

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Thy golden sunshine comes.

From the round heaven, and on their dwelling

lies,

And lights their inner homes;

For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies, And givest them the stores

Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores.

Thy spirit is around,

Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along; And this eternal sound,

Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng, Like the resounding sea,

Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of thee.

And when the hours of rest

Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine,
Hushing its billowy breast,

The quiet of that moment, too, is thine;
It breathes of Him who keeps

The vast and helpless city while it sleeps.

PART V.

ACTIVE DUTY.

ON FOR EVER.

MRS. L. J. HALL.

WINDS of the sky! ye hurry by

On your strong and busy wings,

And your might is great, and your song is high, And true is the tale it sings.

“On, on, for ever and aye!

Round the whole earth lieth our way:

On, on, for we may not stay!"

Murmuring stream! like a soft dream
Goest thou stealing along,
Pausing not in the shade or gleam,
And this is thy ceaseless song:
“On, on, for ever and aye!
Down to the deep lieth my way :
On, for I may not stay!"

ON FOR EVER.

Queen of yon high and dim blue vault,
Gliding past many a star,

'Mid their bright orbs thou dost not halt,
And a voice comes down from thy car:
“On, on, for ever and aye!

Round the whole earth lieth my way:
On, for I may not stay!"

Thoughts of my mind, ye hurry on;

Whence ye come I may not know,
But from my soul ye straight are gone,
In a ceaseless, ceaseless flow.
“On, on, for ever and aye!
By a behest we must obey,
On, for we may not stay!

وو

Man may not stay! there is no rest

On earth for the good man's foot;
He should go forth on errands blest,
And toil for unearthly fruit.
On, on, for ever and aye!
Idle not precious hours away:
On, for ye may not stay!

Sit ye not down in sloth's dark bower,
Where shades o'er the spirit fall;

Pause not to wreathe the sunny flower
That is worn in pleasure's hall.

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