RAPHAEL.

    E’en as at first, in rival song
      Of brother orbs, still chimes the SUN,
    And his appointed path along
      Rolls with harmonious thundertone;
    With strength the sight doth Angels fill,
      Though none can solve its law divine;
    Creation’s wonders glorious still,
      As erst they shone, eternal shine.

GABRIEL.

    The gorgeous EARTH doth whirl for aye
      In swift, sublime, mysterious flight,
    And alternates elysian day
      With deep, chaotic, shuddering night;
    With swelling billows foams the sea. 
      Chafing the cliff’s deep-rooted base,
    While sea and cliff both hurrying flee
      In swift, eternal, circling race.

MICHAEL.

    And howling TEMPESTS scour amain
      From sea to land, from land to sea,
    And, raging, weave around a chain
      Of deepest, wildest energy;
    The scathing bolt with flashing glare
      Precedes the pealing thunder’s way;
    And yet Thine Angels, LORD, revere
      The gentle movement of Thy day.

TRIO.

    With strength the sight doth Angels fill,
      For power to fathom THEE hath none. 
    The works of Thy supernal will
      Still glorious shine, as erst they shone.

A NIGHT AND DAY AT VALPARAISO.

BY ROBERT TOMES.

As night came on, the steamer doubled the rocky cape, and, steaming with all its engine force, stood right for Valparaiso.  Her speed soon slackened, and she began to feel her way cautiously, going ahead, backing, turning, and coming to a full stop.  “Let go the anchor,” was now the word, followed by a hoarse rumble of the chains and a noisy burst of steam.  A fleet of shadowy ships and small craft surrounded us, and ahead glimmered the lights of the city, which, irregularly scattered about the dark hill-sides, appeared in the night like so many stars dimly twinkling through a broken rain cloud.  With the quick instinct of the presence of a stranger, the dogs became at once conscious of our arrival, and began a noisy welcome of barks and yelps, which continued throughout the night.  The port officials in tarnished gilt came alongside the steamer, had their talk with the captain and pushed off again.  Two or three gusty-looking sea-captains boarded us, gave their rough grasps of welcome, drank off their stiff supplies of grog, and pulled back to their ships.  Some few of the more impatient of our comrades turned out from the bottom of their trunks their “best,” and went ashore in glossy coats and shining boots.  Most of us, however, awaited the coming of the morning.