Yet chase away each vain regret, And let each heart be gay; Trust me, the meeting hour shall yet Each anxious thought repay. Is not his spirit with us now? Yes! wheresoe'er his footsteps roam, The wanderer's yearning heart can know No resting-place--but home! Then smile again, and let the song Pour forth its music sweet and clear-- What magic to those notes belong Which thus chain every ear! Soft eyes are filled with tears--what spell So suddenly hath called them there? That strain--ah, yes! we know it well; It is his favourite air. With every note how forcibly Return the thoughts of other days! The shaded brow, the drooping eye, Are present to our gaze. With all around his looks are blent; His form, is it not gliding there? And was it not _his_ voice which sent That echo on the air? One wish, with cordial feeling fraught, Breathe we for him ere yet we part, That for each high and generous thought That animates his heart, That Power which gives us happiness, A blessing on his head would pour! Oh! could affection wish him less? Yet, could we ask for more? A HYMN. BY DAVID S. BOGART.--1791. Almighty King, who reign'st above, Thou art the source of purest love; The splendid heavens thy glories show, Thy wisdom shines in all below; Seraphs before thee humbly fall, Acknowledge thee supreme o'er all; And, wrapt in high transporting joy, Thy attributes their thoughts employ. Shall mortals, then, refuse to join In works so heavenly and divine, Mortals who live and move in thee, And thy continual goodness see; Thou God of Grace, make it my choice In praising thee, to lend my voice; Implant thy fear, infuse thy balm, And make my troubled soul all calm; Teach me the duty of my life, Preserve me from unhappy strife, Conduct me safe through all my days, And keep me in thy peaceful ways. When time is done, and death draws nigh, Then leave me not alone to sigh; Afford thy grace, and cheer my heart, And, sure of heaven, let me depart. REMINISCENCES. BY GEORGE D. STRONG. Oh, who would flee the melody Of woodland, grove, and stream-- The hoar cliff pencill'd on the sky By morning's virgin beam; To wander 'mid the busy throng That threads each city's street, Where cank'ring care and folly's glare In unblest union meet? Emilia! o'er the fleeting hours Thy smile once bathed in light, Fond memory hovers pensively, And joins them in their flight; And lovelier far than sunset's glow, By rainbow beauties spann'd, Comes o'er my soul the joys we stole When first I press'd thy hand.