HYMN OF THE UNIVERSE.

In vain we ply our wonted toil,

While turtles breathe above our head, While woods rejoice, and mountains smile, Our thoughts are ever with the dead; And when we to our dwelling comé,

We miss the lips that welcome gave, Alas! how dreary is the home Whose inmates mourn a mother's grave.

In vain we leave the blasted scene,

And wander on a foreign shore; No change of place the heart can wean From days of joy that shine no more We long to quit the mental strife,

The struggle that subdues the brave, And, dreaming of an after life,

To lay us by a mother's grave.

KNOX,

HYMN OF THE UNIVERSE.

Paraphrased from Goethe.

ROLL or, thou Sun, for ever roll,

Thou giant, rushing through the heaven. Creation's wonder, nature's soul!

Thy golden wheels by angels driven; The planets die without thy blaze,

And cherubim with star- dropt wing

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