O countless stars, that, lost in light,
    Still gem the proud sun’s glory bed,
  And o’er the saddening brow of night
    A softer, holier influence shed—­
  How well your radiant march hath sped. 
    Unfailing vestals of the sky,
  As smiling thus ye weed from dread
    The soul ye court to muse on high.

  O flowers that breathe of beauty’s reign,
    In many a tint o’er lawn and lea,
  That give the cold heart once again
    A dream of happier infancy;
  And even on the grave can be
    A spell to weed affection’s pain—­
  Children of Eden, who could see. 
    Nor own His bounty in your reign?

  O winds, that seem to waft from far
    A mystic murmur o’er the soul,
  As ye had power to pass the bar
    Of nature in your vast control,
  Hail to your everlasting roll—­
    Obedient still ye wander dim,
  And softly breathe, or loudly toll,
    Through earth and sky the name of Him.

  O world of waters, o’er whose bed
    The chainless winds unceasing swell,
  That claim’st a kindred over head,
    As ’twixt the skies thou seem’st to dwell;
  And e’en on earth art but a spell,
    Amid their realms to wander free—­
  Thy task of pride hath speeded well,
    Thou deep, eternal, boundless sea.

  O storms of night and darkness, flung
    In blackening chaos o’er the world,
  When thunderpeals are dreadly rung,
    Mid clouds in sightless fury hurl’d,
  Types of a mightier power, impearl’d
    With mercy’s soft, redeeming ray,
  Still at His voice your wings are furl’d,
    Ye wake to own and to obey.

  O thou blest whole of light and love,
    Thou glorious realm of earth and sky,
  That breath’st of blissful hope above,
    When all of thine hath wander’d by,
  Throughout thy range, nor tear nor sigh
    But breathes of bliss, of beauty’s reign,
  And concord, such as in the sky
    The soul is taught to meet again.

  O man, who veil’d in deepest night
    This beauty-breathing world of thine,
  And taught the serpent’s deadly blight
    Amid its sweetest flowers to twine,
  Thou, thou alone hast dared repine,
    And turn’d aside from duty’s call,
  Thou who hast broken nature’s shrine,
    And wilder’d hope and darken’d all.

ANNETTE TURNER.

* * * * *

A half-pint of wine for young men in perfect health is enough, and you will be able to take your exercise better, and feel better for this abstinence.—­Dr. Babington.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH BOOK.

* * * * *

COLLEGE LOVE.