Oh thoughts ineffable! oh visions blest! 
    Though worthless our conceptions all of Thee. 
  Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast,
    And waft its homage to Thy deity. 
  God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar,
    Thus seek Thy presence—­Being wise and good! 
  Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore;
  And when the tongue is eloquent no more,
    The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.

From the Russian of GAVRIIL ROMANOVITCH DERSHAVIN.

Translation of SIR JOHN BOWRING.

* * * * *

GOD IS EVERYWHERE.

  A trodden daisy, from the sward,
    With tearful eye I took,
  And on its ruined glories I,
    With moving heart, did look;
  For, crushed and broken though it was,
    That little flower was fair;
  And oh!  I loved the dying bud,
    For God was there!

  I stood upon the sea-beat shore,
    The waves came rushing on;
  The tempest raged in giant wrath,
    The light of day was gone. 
  The sailor from his drowning bark
    Sent up his dying prayer;
  I looked amid the ruthless storm,
    And God was there!

  I sought a lonely, woody dell,
    Where all things soft and sweet,
  Birds, flowers, and trees, and running streams,
    Mid bright sunshine did meet: 
  I stood beneath an old oak’s shade,
    And summer round was fair;
  I gazed upon the peaceful scene,
    And God was there!

  I saw a home—­a happy home—­
    Upon a bridal day,
  And youthful hearts were blithesome there,
    And aged hearts were gay: 
  I sat amid the smiling band
    Where all so blissful were—­
  Among the bridal maidens sweet—­
    And God was there!

  I stood beside an infant’s couch,
    When light had left its eye—­
  I saw the mother’s bitter tears,
    I heard her woful cry—­
  I saw her kiss its fair pale face,
    And smooth its yellow hair;
  And oh, I loved the mourner’s home,
    For God was there!

  I sought a cheerless wilderness—­
    A desert, pathless wild—­
  Where verdure grew not by the streams,
    Where beauty never smiled;
  Where desolation brooded o’er
    A muirland lone and bare,
  And awe upon my spirit crept,
    For God was there!

  I looked upon the lowly flower,
    And on each blade of grass;
  Upon the forests, wide and deep,
    I saw the tempests pass: 
  I gazed on all created things
    In earth, in sea, and air;
  Then bent the knee—­for God, in love,
    Was everywhere!

ROBERT NICOLL.

* * * * *

ROCKED IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP.

  Rocked in the cradle of the deep
  I lay me down in peace to sleep;
  Secure I rest upon the wave,
  For thou, O Lord! hast power to save. 
  I know thou wilt not slight my call,
  For thou dost mark the sparrow’s fall;
  And calm and peaceful shall I sleep,
  Rocked in the cradle of the deep.