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While happy in my father's bower,
Thou shalt the blithe memorial be;
The fairy sports of infancy,
Youth's golden age, and manhood's prime,
Home, country, kindred, friends, — with thee,
I find in this far clime.

Thrice welcome, little English flower !
I'll rear thee with a trembling hand;
Oh, for the April sun and shower,
The sweet May dews of that fair land,
Where Daisies, thick as star-light, stand
In every walk!

that here may shoot
Thy scions, and thy buds expand,
A hundred from one root.

Thrice welcome, little English flower!
To me the pledge of hope unseen;
When sorrow would my soul o'erpower
For joys that were, or might have been,

I'll call to mind, how, fresh and green,
I saw thee waking from the dust;
Then turn to heaven with brow serene,
And place in God my trust.

THE DROUGHT.

Written in the summer of 1826.

Hosea, ii. 21, 22.

WHAT strange, what fearful thing hath come to pass ? The ground is iron, and the heavens are brass ; Man on the withering harvests casts his eye, “ Give me your fruits in season or I die ;" The timely Fruits implore their parent Earth, “ Where is thy strength to bring us forth to birth ?” The Earth, all prostrate, to the Clouds complains, “ Send to my heart your fertilizing rains ;" The Clouds invoke the Heavens,—“ Collect, dispense Through us your quickening, healing influence;"

The Heavens to Him that made them raise their

moan,

“ Command thy blessing, and it shall be done :" The Lord is in his temple ; – hush'd and still, The suppliant Universe awaits his will.

He speaks ; and to the Clouds the Heavens

dispense, With lightning-speed, their genial influence; The gathering, breaking Clouds pour down their

rains, Earth drinks the bliss through all her eager veins; From teeming furrows start the Fruits to birth, And shake their treasures on the lap of Earth ; Man sees the harvests grow beneath his eye, Turns, and looks up with rapture to the sky; All that have breath and being now rejoice; All Nature's voices blend in one great voice,

Glory to God, who thus Himself makes known !" - When shall all tongues confess Him God alone?

Lord, as the rain comes down from Heaven;

the rain, Which waters Earth, nor thence returns in vain, But makes the tree to bud, the grass to spring, And feeds and gladdens every living thing ; So may thy word, upon a world destroy'd, Come down in blessing, and return not void; So may it come in universal showers, And fill Earth's dreariest wilderness with flowers,

- With flowers of promise fill the world, within Man's heart, laid waste and desolate by sin ; Where thorns and thistles curse the infested ground, Let the rich fruits of righteousness abound; And trees of life, for ever fresh and

green, Flourish where trees of death alone have been ; Let Truth look down from heaven, Hope soar

above,
Justice and Mercy kiss, Faith work by Love;
Nations new-born their fathers' idols spurn;
The Ransom'd of the Lord with songs return ;

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