A COMMENDATION OF YOUTH TO THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.

EXHAUSTLESS Source of light and truth!

From whom as well all wisdom springs, Instruct we pray our rising youth,

And build them up in holiest things,-
That we who on Thy grace depend,
May see them unto heaven ascend.

Pregnant alike with toil and woe

Is all their little labouring life;

While on their way the deathless foe
Provokes them to perpetual strife;

And none can help them in their need,

Unless Thou deign to intercede.

To Thee we then commend our charge,

And trusting to the promise given, Entreat Thee humbly to enlarge

Their souls with ripening love for heaven; That all through watchfulness and prayer, In Christ may full redemption share.

TO THE SKYLARK.

LIGHT as an exhalation lent

By earth unto the thirsty sky,

When on a heavenly mission sent,

Dost thou with airy pinions fly : But true to that maternal source

To which ethereal vapours tend,

When having sped thy lofty course,
Dost thou with longing heart descend.

What secret purpose dost thou fill,

As yet to curious man unknown,

While boasting of his ample skill

To make thy genius serve his own?

Fancy shall aid the proud pursuit

Of reason with her fond surmise,

And trace, where wisdom might be mute,

Thy province through the earth and skies.

As all-pervading hope expands

And brightens in the human breast,

Increasing riches crown the lands

On which thy gentle feet are pressed:

As love inspires a like return

Of blessings from a kindred store,

The fields with glowing rapture burn

Where thou art daily pleased to soar.

Thou spirit of unclouded light,

Though in a simple vesture clad,

Thy warbling from the viewless height
Makes universal Nature glad!

The mighty Sun in fondness seems
To shed his brightest rays on thee,
And clouds await to quench his beams

Beneath their purple canopy.

When floating thus in liquid air,

As planets in eternal space, Admiring orbs profusely share

An interest in thy boundless grace:

When joyous earth again beholds

Thy presence in the sure descent,

Her leafy wings she still unfolds

To aid thee in thy blest intent.

Essential to the sacred cause

Of priceless comfort as thou art,

Who would not wish to learn the laws

That tune so blithe and pure a heart! Then blush thou rude insensate man,

Who, heedless of this songster's praise, Wouldst limit if thou couldst his span

Of life to some few brilliant days.