and People of Siam,’ ‘A Visit to the Philippine Islands,’ ‘Translations from Petoefi,’ ‘The Flowery Scroll’ (translation of a Chinese novel), and ‘The Oak’ (a collection of original tales and sketches).  He also edited the works of Jeremy Bentham.  Of his translations, the ‘Servian Anthology’ has been the most admired for the skill and ease with which the wild beauty of the poems, and their national spirit, has been preserved.  At the time of its publication, the collection of Servian popular poetry called ‘Narodne srpske pjesme’ had just appeared, and was the first attempt to put into literary form the ballads and lyric songs sung by the wandering minstrels and the people.

THE CROSS OF CHRIST

     In the Cross of Christ I glory,
       Tow’ring o’er the wrecks of time;
     All the light of sacred story
       Gathers round its head sublime.

     When the woes of life o’ertake me,
       Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
     Never shall the Cross forsake me—­
       Lo! it glows with peace and joy.

     When the sun of bliss is beaming
       Light and love upon my way,
     From the Cross the radiance streaming
       Adds more lustre to the day.

     Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
       By the Cross are sanctified;
     Peace is there that knows no measure,
       Joys that through all time abide.

     In the Cross of Christ I glory,
       Tow’ring o’er the wrecks of time;
     All the light of sacred story
       Gathers round its head sublime.

WATCHMAN!  WHAT OF THE NIGHT?

     Watchman! tell us of the night,
       What its signs of promise are: 
     Traveler! o’er yon mountain’s height
       See that glory-beaming star! 
     Watchman! doth its beauteous ray
       Aught of hope or joy foretell? 
     Traveler! yes, it brings the day,
       Promised day of Israel.

     Watchman! tell us of the night;
       Higher yet that star ascends: 
     Traveler! blessedness and light,
       Peace and truth, its course portends. 
     Watchman! will its beams alone
       Gild the spot that gave them birth? 
     Traveler! ages are its own,
       And it bursts o’er all the earth.

     Watchman! tell us of the night,
       For the morning seems to dawn: 
     Traveler! darkness takes its flight,
       Doubt and terror are withdrawn. 
     Watchman! let thy wanderings cease;
       Hie thee to thy quiet home: 
     Traveler! lo! the Prince of Peace,
       Lo! the Son of God is come!

     HYMN

     From the recesses of a lowly spirit
     My humble prayer ascends—­O Father! hear it! 
     Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness,
       Forgive its weakness.

     I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy
     The trembling sacrifice I pour before Thee;
     What can I offer in Thy presence holy,
       But sin and folly?