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Awake, arise!* thy light is come!
The nations that before outshone thee,
Now at thy feet lie dark and dumb—
The glory of the Lord is on thee!

Arise—the Gentiles to thy ray,

From every nook of earth shall cluster;
And kings and princes haste to pay
Their homage to thy rising lustre.

Lift up thine eyes around, and see,
O'er foreign fields, o'er farthest waters
Thy exiled sons returned to thee

To thee return thy home-sick daughters.

And camels rich, from Midian's tents
Shall lay their treasures down before thee,
And Saba bring her gold and scents,
To fill thy air and sparkle o'er thee.

See who are these, that like a cloud,
Are gathering from all earth's dominions,
Like doves long absent, when allowed
Homeward to shoot their trembling pinions!

Surely the isles shall wait for thee,—
The ships of Tarshish round shall hover,
To bring thy sons across the sea,

And waft their gold and silver over:

And Lebanon thy pomp shall grace—
The fire, the pine, the palm victorious
Shall beautify thy holy place,

And make the ground we tread on glorious.

No more shall discord haunt thy ways
Nor ruin waste thy cheerless nation;
But thou shall call the portals praise,
And thou shall name thy walls salvation.

The sun no more shall make thee bright,
Nor moon shall lend her lustre to thee—
But God himself shall be thy light,
And flash eternal glory through thee.

* People of God

Thy sun shall never more go down

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A ray from heaven itself descended,
Shall light thy everlasting crown—

Thy days of mourning all are ended.
My own elect and righteous land!
Thy branch, for ever green and vernal,
Which I have planted with this hand,
Live thou shalt, in life eternal.

This piece, throughout, is an address to a people chosen by God for his own.—The Jews believe that they were this people, and that their city, Jerusalem, is the metropolis of this happy nation; but they, whose God is the Lord, form this people every where." He that worketh righteousness" of all nations, belongs to the great family of the just, and the places where he abides is holy, for he dwelleth in God, and God in him.

MRS. BARBAULD.

Anna Lætitia Barbauld was the daughter of Dr. Aikin: she is memorable for her happy talent in instructing the young, for her accomplishments, her elegant criticisms, her excellent moral writings in poetry and prose, and above all, for her sincere piety and exemplary conduct through life. This lady died at the age of eighty-one, near London, March, 1825.

In the third chapter of Habakkuk the prophet gives a sublime description of God's power, and of his displeasure against the wicked. The whole passage is highly figurative, only a small part of it can be literally understood. But the "terrors of the Lord" did not alarm the prophet: he knew that the meek, and they who seek righteousness, are safe in the day of God's anger; and though he trembled at the indignation of God against the transgressor, he trusted in the mercy which endureth for ever; and he says,

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Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." Mrs. Barbauld has paraphrased this passage thus:

Praise to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy!
Let thy praise our tongues employ.
For the blessings of the field;
For the stores the gardens yield;
For the vine's exalted juice;
For the generous olive's use.
Flocks that whiten all the plain;
Yellow sheaves of ripened grain;
Clouds that drop their fattening dews;
Suns that temperate warmth diffuse :
All that spring with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that liberal autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing stores :

These to thee, our God! we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the ripening ear;
Should the fig tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit :

Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store:

Though the sickening flocks should fall,

And the herds desert the stall;

Should thine altered hand restrain
Vernal showers and latter rain;
Blast each opening bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy:

Still to thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And, when every blessing's flown,
Love thee—for thyself alone!

MISS WILLIAMS.

Helen Maria Williams was an English Lady, long resident in France. She subsisted by the exertion of her talents, as a writer and translator, and was considered an ornament to society from the elegance of her conversation, and the liberality of her sentiments. Miss Williams died in Paris in 1829. A single specimen of her poetry will serve to inspire reverence for her piety.

GOD SEEN IN ALL.

My God! all nature owns thy sway;
Thou giv'st the night and thou the day:
When all thy loved creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre, breaks,
And bathes in dew the opening flower,
To thee we owe her fragrant hour;
And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to thee belong.

Or, when in paler tints arrayed,
The evening slowly spreads her shades;
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can more than day's enlivening bloom,
Still every fond and vain desire,
And calmer, purer thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit free,
And lead the softened heart to thee.

In every scene thy hands have dressed,
In every form by thee impressed,
Upon the mountain's awful head,

Or where the sheltering woods are spread;
In every note that swells the gale,
Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,
The cavern's depth, or echoing grove,
A voice is heard of praise and love.

As o'er thy works the seasons roll,
And soothe with change of bliss the soul,
O never may their smiling train
Pass o'er the human sense in vain!

But oft as on their charms we gaze,
Attune the wondering soul to praise;
And be the joys that most we prize,
The joys that from thy favour rise.

BABYLON.

And now from out the watery floor
A city rose, and well she wore
Her beauty, and stupendous walls,
And towers that touched the stars, and halls
Pillared with whitest marble, whence
Palace on lofty palace sprung;

Where, amongst silver waterfalls,

Cedars and spice-trees and green bowers,

And sweet winds playing with all the flowers
Of Persia and Araby,

Walked princely shapes: some with an air
Like warriors, some like ladies fair

Listening, and, amidst all, the king
Nebuchadnezzar rioting

In supreme magnificence.

This was famous Babylon.

Barry Cornwall.

Babylon was the capital of Chaldea or Babylonia. The exact site of Babylon is disputed, and it is equally doubtful who was its founder; but Nebuchadnezzar, about six centuries before Christ, repaired, extended, and adorned it, so that its magnificence was the boast of this vain-glorious monarch.- "Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty ?"

In scripture this magnificence is extolled in many places—The "great Babylon ;" the "glory of kingdoms;" the "beauty of Chaldea's excellency ;" and "the praise of the whole earth," besides many other laudatory expressions, are applied to this ancient city. Babylon was a square enclosed by walls, and each of its sides measured, according to some writers, fifteen miles. The Assyrian monarchs dwelt there in all the splendour of oriental luxury. This city was embellished by gardens supported by arches, in terraces raised one above another on which the soil was sufficiently deep to permit the growth of large trees;

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