His voice is in the thunder, and his wrath Poureth the beams of the retarded sun, With the keen strength of arrows, on their sight. The unwearied sun rides in the zenith sky; Nature, obedient to her Maker's voice, Stops in full course all her mysterious wheels. On! till avenging swords have drunk the blood Of all Jehovah's enemies, and till Thy banners in returning triumph wave; Then yonder orb shall set 'mid golden clouds, And, while a dewy rain falls soft on earth, Show in the heavens the glorious bow of God, Shining, the rainbow banner of the skies. SONG. BY WILLIAM LEGGETT. I trust the frown thy features wear Ere long into a smile will turn; I would not that a face so fair As thine, beloved, should look so stern. The chain of ice that winter twines, Holds not for aye the sparkling rill, It melts away when summer shines, And leaves the waters sparkling still. Thus let thy cheek resume the smile That shed such sunny light before; And though I left thee for a while, I'll swear to leave thee, love, no more. As he who, doomed o'er waves to roam, Or wander on a foreign strand, Will sigh whene'er he thinks of home, And better love his native land; So I, though lured a time away, Like bees by varied sweets, to rove, Return, like bees, by close of day, And leave them all for thee, my love. Then let thy cheek resume the smile That shed such sunny light before, And though I left thee for a while, I'll swear to leave thee, love, no more. WEST POINT. [_Suggested by the attendance on Public Worship of the Cadets.--June, 1833._] BY GEORGE D. STRONG. Bugles upon the wind! Hushed voices in the air, And the solemn roll of the stirring drum, Proclaim the hour of prayer; While, with measured tread and downcast eye The martial train sweep silent by! Away with the nodding plume, And the glittering bayonet now, For unmeet it were, with bannered pomp, To record the sacred vow. To earth-born strife let display be given, But the heart's meek homage alone to heaven. The organ's mellow notes Come swelling on the breeze, And, echoing forth from arch to dome, Float richest symphonies! While youthful forms, a sunny throng, With their voices deep the strains prolong! Deserted now the aisles-- Devotion's rites are past; And again the bugle's cheering peals Are ringing on the blast! Come forth, ye brave, for your country now, With your flashing eyes and your lofty brow! A voice from the glorious dead! Awake to the call of fame! By yon gorgeous banner's spangled folds, And by Kosciusko's name! And on Putnam's fort by the light that falls On its ivied moat and its ruined walls,