They speak of love, yet little feel its sway,
While in their bosoms many an idol lurks;
Their bafe defires, well fatisfied, obey,
Leave the Creator's hand, and lean

upon his works.

'Tis therefore I can dwell with man no more; Your fellowship, ye warblers! fuits me beft: Pure love has loft its price, though prized of yore, Profaned by modern tongues, and flighted as a jeft.

My God, who form'd you for his praise alone,
Beholds his purpose well fulfill'd in you;
Come, let us join the choir before his throne,
Partaking in his praise with spirits just and true!

Yes, I will always love; and, as I ought,
Tune to the praise of Love my ceaseless voice;
Preferring Love too vast for human thought,
In fpite of erring men, who cavil at my choice.

Why have I not a thousand thousand hearts,
Lord of my foul! that they might all be thine?
If thou approve—the zeal thy smile imparts,
How should it ever fail! can fuch a fire decline?

Love, pure

and holy, is a deathless fire; Its object heavenly, it must ever blaze : Eternal love a God must needs inspire,

When once he wins the heart, and fits it for his

praise.

Self-love difmifs'd-'tis then we live indeed

In her embrace, death, only death is found:

Come, then, one noble effort, and fucceed,

Caft off the chain of felf with which thy foul is bound!

Oh! I could cry, that all the world might hear,
Ye felf-tormentors, love your God alone:
Let his unequal'd excellence be dear,
Dear to your inmoft fouls, and make him all

[own!

your

They hear me not.-Alas! how fond to rove
In endless chase of folly's fpecious lure!
'Tis here alone, beneath this shady grove,
I taste the sweets of truth-here only am fecure.

3.

THE SWALLOW.

AM fond of the swallow-I learn from

her flight,

Had I fkill to improve it, a leffon of love: How feldom on earth do we see her alight! She dwells in the fkies, fhe is ever above.

It is on the wing that she takes her repose,
Sufpended and poised in the regions of air,
'Tis not in our fields that her fuftenance grows,
It is wing'd like herself, 'tis ethereal fare.

She comes in the spring, all the summer she stays,
And, dreading the cold, ftill follows the fun ;-
So, true to our Love, we should covet his rays,
And the place where he shines not, immediately

fhun.

Our light should be Love, and our nourishment

prayer;

It is dangerous food that we find upon earth;
The fruit of this world is befet with a fnare,
In itself it is hurtful, as vile in its birth.

'Tis rarely, if ever, fhe fettles below,

And only when building a nest for her young;
Were it not for her brood, she would never bestow
A thought upon any thing filthy as dung.

Let us leave it ourselves ('tis a mortal abode),
To bask every moment in infinite Love;
Let us fly the dark winter, and follow the road
That leads to the dayspring appearing above.

4. THE TRIUMPH OF HEAVENLY
LOVE DESIRED.

H! reign, wherever man is found,
My Spouse, beloved and divine!
Then I am rich, and I abound,
When every
human heart is thine.

A thousand forrows pierce my foul,

To think that all are not thine own:
Ah! be adored from pole to pole;
Where is thy zeal? arise; be known!
All hearts are cold, in every place,
Yet earthly good with warmth pursue;
Diffolve them with a flash of grace,

Thaw these of ice, and give us new!

5. A Figurative Defcription of

THE PROCEDURE OF DIVINE LOVE,

In bringing a Soul to the Point of Self-renunciation and abfolute Acquiefcence.

WAS my purpose, on a day,
To embark, and fail away;

As I climb'd the veffel's fide,

Love was sporting in the tide;
"Come," he said, "afcend! make haste,

Launch into the boundless wafte."

Many mariners were there,

Having each his separate care;

They that row'd us held their eyes
Fix'd upon the starry skies;
Others steer'd, or turn'd the fails
To receive the shifting gales.

Love, with

power divine fupplied,

Suddenly my courage tried;
In a moment it was night,

Ship and skies were out of fight;
On the briny wave I lay,
Floating rushes all my stay.

Did I with resentment burn
At this unexpected turn?

Did I wish myself on shore,

Never to forfake it more?

No:-" My foul," I cried, " be still;

If I must be loft, I will."

Next he haften'd to convey
Both my frail fupports away;
Seized my rushes; bade the waves
Yawn into a thousand graves
Down I went, and funk as lead,
Ocean closing o'er my head.

Still, however, life was safe;
And I saw him turn and laugh:
"Friend," he cried, " adieu! lie low,
While the wintry storms shall blow;
When the spring has calm'd the main,
You shall rife and float again."

Soon I saw him, with dismay,
Spread his plumes, and foar away;
Now I mark his rapid flight;
Now he leaves my aching fight;
He is gone whom I adore,
'Tis in vain to seek him more.

How I trembled then and fear'd, When my love had disappear'd! "Wilt thou leave me thus," I cried, "Whelm'd beneath the rolling tide?" Vain attempt to reach his ear! Love was gone, and would not hear.