O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord! The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate, Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian's sword, Even her foes wept to see her fallen state; And heaps her ivory palaces became, Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame, Her temples sank amid the smouldering flame, For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate. O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam, And the sad City lift her crownless head, And songs shall wake and dancing footsteps gleam In streets where broods the silence of the dead. The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers, On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers To deck at blushing eye their bridal bowers, And angel feet the glittering Sion tread. Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves. With fettered steps we left our pleasant land, Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The strangers' bread with bitter tears we steep, And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, In the mute midnight we steal forth to weep. Where the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves. The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy; Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home; He that went forth a tender prattling boy Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come; And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shall bear, And Hermon's bees their honeyed stores prepare, And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, Where o'er the cherub seated God full blazed the irradiate dome. HENRY HART MILMAN. * * * * * EXAMPLE. We scatter seeds with careless hand, And dream we ne'er shall see them more; But for a thousand years Their fruit appears, In weeds that mar the land, Or healthful store. The deeds we do, the words we say,-- Into still air they seem to fleet, We count them ever past; But they shall last,-- In the dread judgment they And we shall meet. I charge thee by the years gone by, For the love's sake of brethren dear, Keep thou the one true way, In work and play, Lest in that world their cry Of woe thou hear. JOHN KEBLE. * * * * * SMALL BEGINNINGS. A traveller through a dusty road strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root and sprouted up, and grew into a tree. Love sought its shade, at evening time, to breath its early vows; And age was pleased, in heats of noon, to bask beneath its boughs; The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, the birds sweet music bore; It stood a glory in its place, a blessing evermore.