ager hand
He smote the golden harp-string, till a flood
Of harmony on the celestial air
Welled forth, unceasing. There with a great voice,
He sang the "Holy, holy evermore,
Lord God Almighty!" and the eternal courts
Thrilled with the rapture, and the hierarchies,
Angel, and rapt archangel, throbbed and burned
With vehement adoration.

Higher yet
Rose the majestic anthem, without pause,
Higher, with rich magnificence of sound,
To its full strength; and still the infinite heavens
Rang with the "Holy, holy evermore!"
Till, trembling with excessive awe and love,
Each sceptred spirit sank before the Throne
With a mute hallelujah.

But even then,
While the ecstatic song was at its height,
Stole in an alien voice,--a voice that seemed
To float, float upward from some world afar,--
A meek and childlike voice, faint, but how sweet!
That blended with the spirits' rushing strain,
Even as a fountain's music, with the roll
Of the reverberate thunder.

Loving smiles
Lit up the beauty of each angel's face
At that new utterance, smiles of joy that grew
More joyous yet, as ever and anon
Was heard the simple burden of the hymn,
"Praise God! praise God!"

And when the seraph's song
Had reached its close, and o'er the golden lyre
Silence hung brooding,--when the eternal courts
Rang with the echoes of his chant sublime,
Still through the abysmal space that wandering voice
Came floating upward from its world afar,
Still murmured sweet on the celestial air,
"Praise God! praise God!"

MY FRIEND'S SECRET.

I found my friend in his easy chair,
With his heart and his head undisturbed by a care;
The smoke of a Cuba outpoured from his lips,
His face like the moon in a semi-eclipse;
His feet, in slippers, as high as his nose,
And his chair tilted back to a classical pose.

I marvelled much such contentment to see--
The secret whereof I begged he'd give me.
He puffed away with re-animate zest,
As though with an added jollity blest.
"I'll tell you, my friend," said he, in a pause,
"What is the very 'identical' cause.

"Don't fret!--Let this be the first rule of your life;--
Don't fret with your children, don't fret with your wife;
Let everything happen as happen it may,
Be cool as a cucumber every day;
If favourite of fortu