NOW

risen,

EVENING IN PARADISE.

From “Paradise Lost," Book IV. TOW came still evening on, and twilight To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the gray

east, Had in her sober livery all things clad; With first approach of light, we must be Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their And at our pleasant labor, to reform nests,

Yon flowery arbors; yonder alleys green, Were slunk; all but the wakeful nightingale; Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, She all night long her amorous descant sung; That mock our scant manuring, and require Silence was pleased; now glowed the firma- More bands than ours to lop their wanton ment

growth; With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led These blossoms also, and those dropping The starry host, rode brightest; till the moon, gums, Rising in clouded majesty, at length

That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease. And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us

rest." When Adam thus to Eve: “Fair consort, the

JOHN MILTON. hour Of night, and all things now retired to rest, Mind us of like repose; since God hath set

EXAMPLE. Labor and rest, as day and night, to men E scatter seeds with careless hand, Successive; and the timely dew of sleep,

W

SONG.

(From “ The Tent on the Beach.'') HE harp at Nature's advent strung The winds with hymns of praise are loud, Has never ceased to play ;

Or low with sobs of pain, The song the stars of morning sung

The thunder-organ of the cloud, Has never died away.

The dropping tears of rain. And prayer is made, and praise is given,

With drooping head and branches crossed, By all things near and far;

The twilight forest grieves, The ocean looketh up to heaven,

Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost And mirrors every star.

From all its sunlit leaves.

The blue sky is the temple's arch, Its waves are kneeling on the strand,

Its transept, earth and air, As kneels the human knee,

The music of its starry march Their white locks bowing to the sand,

The choirs of a prayer. The priesthood of the sea.

So Nature keeps the reverent frame They pour their glittering treasures forth, With which her years began, Their gifts of pearl they bring,

And all her signs and voices shame And all the listening hills of earth

The prayerless heart of man. Take up the song they sing.

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

MORNING HYMN.

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,

Rising or falling, still advance his praise. (From “ Paradise Lost," Book V.)

His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters WHESE are thy glorious works, Parent of blow, Good,

Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, fe Almighty! thine this universal frame,

pines, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous With every plant, in sign of worship wave. then!

Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow, Unspeakable, who sit'st above these heavens Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. To us invisible, or dimly seen

Join voices all, ye living souls; ye birds, In these thy lowest works; yet these declare That singing up to Heaven's gate ascend, Thy goodness beyond thought, and power di- Bear on your wings and in your notes his vine.

praise. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 'Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs T'he earth, and stately tread or lowly creep, And choral symphonies, day without night, Witness if I be silent morn or even, Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven; To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, On earth join all ye creatures, to extol

Made vocal by my song, and taught His praise. Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without Hail, universal Lord I be bounteous still end.

To give us only good; and, if the night Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling

JOHN MILTON.

morn

NEARER HOME.
NE sweetly solemn thought

Comes to me o'er and o'er:
I am nearer my home to-day

Than I ever have been before;

Nearer my Father's house,

Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the great white throne,

Nearer the crystal sea ;

With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy

sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and

soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his

praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb

'st, And when high noon hast gained, and when

thou fall'st. Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now

flyest
With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that

flies;
And ye five other wandering fires, that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness called up

Nearer the bound of life,

Where we lay our burden down;
Nearer leaving the cross ;