"When clouds and thick darkness the Heavens

shall strew,

And hurricanes trouble the day;

My Bow in such seasons serenely I'll view, And my promise to man again will renew, And their terrors and sorrows allay."

Thus spoke the First Cause: and with rapture mankind.

Place reliance and trust in His word.

And when elements threaten, when storm and

wild wind

Rock the earth with their blasts, I'll still quiet my mind,

And

repose on my God and mv Lord.

Yes, yes, there's a Providence seated on high, That presides o'er the tempest's alarms; That rides on the wings of the winds as they fly, That hovers above in the realms of the sky,

And fosters the world in his arms.

ON A GLOW-WORM,

KILLED BY A LITTLE BOY.

The show'r had ceas'd, the clouds had pass'd

away,

Bright drops of pearl bespangl'd ev'ry spray;
The waning moon display'd a sickly light,
That scarcely seem'd to smile upon the night;
Wrapp'd in a contemplative mood,
The beauteous scene alone I view'd.

Beneath the hedge a Glow-worm chanc'd to stray, And proudly spread around its feeble ray :

And as it crept the plants and shrubs between, Lent all its aid to beautify the scene.

Ah! little did it deem or fear,

The hour of its fate was near.

Danger and death pursued its devious way; Its torch but lit the murd'rer to his prey. George started forth, with joy and rapture wild, To seize a prize so tempting to a child; And for a while, with infant pleasure, Fondly caress'd his costly treasure.

With ardent gaze the glitt'ring toy he eyed,
And turn'd it o'er and o'er with conscious pride;
Till by degrees at length familiar grown,
He dropp'd it carelessly, its int'rest flown;
Tir'd of his sport, with wanton tread,
He crush'd the pretty insect's head.

And thus I reason'd;-This no novel scene;
A portraiture of man may here be seen;
Where the rich charms which Nature's gifts
supply,

Lead their fair tenants but to blaze and die.

The pleasures which to-day we prize,

Soon lose their value in our eyes.

Deck'd with the choicest beauties of her kind, With ev'ry ornament of face and mind;

The lovely maid is led to grace the ball,

The theatre, saloon, or painted hall;

To flutter for a season there,

To shine the fairest of the fair.

With panting heart, with feelings all on fire, O'ercome by beauty, melted by desire,

Th' impatient youth the dazzling form sur

veys;

To win her smile his ev'ry art displays:
Love and ambition urge their sway
To bear the golden palm away.

But dwell not on the raptures of the hour, Nor, Maiden, overrate thy magic pow'r :

Thy bloom may fade, thy beauty soon may die,

And man is seldom form'd for constancy.

All mortal pleasures are but frail;

Life's brightest hues grow soonest pale.

Alas! the sweets of pleasures long possess'd Surfeit the sense, and sicken in the breast:

Cloy'd with delights long pass'd, the lover flies,

And seeks fresh beauties under other skies;

Throws her away with wanton scorn,
And leaves her at her fate to mourn.

Se'st thou yon lovely, fragrant, damask rose, Its blooming colours to the view disclose? Won by its charms, anon, some haughty fair, Plucks the sweet flow'r to deck her glossy hair; Ere night, its faded beauty dies,

And, cast away, neglected lies.

The little glow-worm while it spreads its light,
And throws its cheering gleam upon the night,
A pleasing object to the gazing eye,
Will still this lesson to the mind convey;
The brightest charms may fail of bliss;
Far humbler lead to happiness.