the folding of our innocent sheep, an emblem of the church, but for making the walls of one of the first Christian Oratories in the world; and particularly in this Island, that venerable and sacred fabrick at Glastonbury, found by St. Joseph of Arimathea, which is storied to have been first composed but of a few small Hasel-rods interwoven about certain stakes driven into the ground: and walls of this kind, instead of laths and puncheons, super-induced with a coarse mortar, made of loam and straw, do to this day inclose divers humble cottages, sheds, and out-houses in the country."--EVELYN. "Le noisetier n'est célèbre que par la superstition de la baguette divinatoire faite de branches légères, &c. Jacques Hymar, paysan de St. Veran, se rendit tres-célèbre dans cet art, sous la régence du Duc d'Orleans. Il prétendoit découvrir, avec sa baguette, non seulement les eaux, les mines, les trésors cachés sous terre, mais encore les cadavres, leurs meurtriers, et même les traces de ces meurtriers. Mons. le Regent le fit venir à Paris, et toute cette cour, composée en grande partie d'esprits forts, qui ne croyoient pas en Dieu, fut émerveillée des miracles opérés par Jacques Aymar.”—GENLIS. HYMNS AND POETICAL RECREATIONS. On observing the Evening Star grow larger and brighter as it approached the horizon. AT even-tide, When the sun was gone, The only one It was so small, So faintly bright, It seem'd no more Than the glow-worm's light: So very sad, So very wan, I thought it wept And did not like To quench its fires, When other stars I watch'd that Star I saw it sink Nearer and nearer To the brink: There was a cloud- Gone was the hue Of sickly white Its cheek was now Of the vermil bright I saw a light Its form unfold, As if its locks Were of streaming gold. Thou lovely Star! I know 'twas so Thou look'dst so sad For haste to go: Thou didst not like To shine alone In the cold, cold night, When thy Sun was gone. That vermil tint, When they bid the world A last farewell. Thou didst not set, Thou didst not fade, Thou didst not quench Thy beams in shade— Thou wert but sad For haste to flee From a world too dark, Too cold for thee. THE SKY LARK. In allusion to the asserted fact, that the Lark, rising high in air, perceives the day-break and begins his song, before it is perceptible on the earth. WHY dost thou sing so sweet a lay, Songster invisible! When not a beam of light is seen Full many a heart will list the lay, That through the wakeful night has cried, THE NEGRO BOY. (A true Story.*) Ah, where are they whose sympathizing hearts o'erflow Whose thought is love, whose love, an ever kindling flame Of human shame and sorrow? To their list'ning ear, I turn to tell a tale of slav'ry and of fear; A tale, which tho' it raise the son of Mammon's scorn, Will deeply sink in hearts of Britons freely born; In that dark land, where freedom's voice is scarcely known, With not one heart to love him, or one voice to cheer Of light and cheering beams o'er his desponding soul, That chased the gloom, and made the wounded spirit whole: *We insert this on the credit of our unknown correspondent, but hope, for humanity's sake, it is not a true story. His Saviour's worship, and the study of his word But him to whom his most devoted thoughts are giv'n, Whose slightest word's his law, whose faintest smile his heav'n. Like Daniel he was holy, and they made complaint in tears; The tumult of his spirits; well the suff'rer knows But who shall teach the furious tiger to be tame? He paused, and on his murd'rer cast his languid gaze, Then turned to heav'n his eye, that spoke of love and praise; As trust corrupted guides, must even go astray; |