Be Faith our battle-shield,-
Be ours the Spirit's sword,
And God-giv'n strength to wield
That weapon of his Word.
Thus panoplied, we yield
Not in the tumult strife,
Triumphant on the field

Of this stern, mortal life.

Star, that in heaven burns,

The changeless and the true,

The trembling needle turns,
And points at length to you.

Star in my heaven set,

Earth's lesser lights' above,

My wandering heart is yet
Firm to thy ray of love!

JAN. 19, 1840.

LOVE'S BLIND.

BY CHARLES H. PORTER.

"Love's Blind," they say,—an olden rule-
But he who made it was a fool,

And they who trust him are not wise;
Love rather hath a thousand eyes.

"Love's blind," they say:-who think they find Truth here, but prove themselves are blind :

If so, how could his arrows fly
With such unerring certainty ?

I thought so, till from Stella's eye
The villain let an arrow fly;

It came so straight I could not flee-
And proved full well that love can see.

Then all beware :-that love's a rogue;
He'll either come to you incog.,
Or else he'll say to you, "I'm blind,"
And thus an easy entrance find.

VENETIAN MOONLIGHT.

BY FREDERIC MELLEN. *

THE midnight chime had tolled from Marco's towers,
O'er Adria's wave the trembling echo swept,
The gondolieri paused upon their oars,

Muttering their prayers as through the still night

crept.

Far o'er the wave the knell of time was borne,
Till the sound died upon its tranquil breast;

The sea-boy started as the peal rolled on,
Gazed at his star and turned himself to rest.

The throbbing heart that late had said farewell,
Still lingering on the wave that bore it home,
At that bright hour sighed o'er the dying swell,

And thought on years of absence yet to come.

'T was moonlight on Venetia's sea, And every fragrant bower and tree

Smiled in the glorious light:

The thousand isles that clustered there
Ne'er in their life looked half so fair
As on that happy night.

A thousand sparkling lights were set
On every dome and minaret;

While through the marble halls
The gush of cooling fountains came,
And crystal lamps sent far their flame
Upon the high-arched walls.

But sweeter far on Adria's sea,
The gondolier's wild minstrelsy
In accents low began ;

While sounding harp and martial zell,
Their music joined, till the rich swell
Seemed heaven's wide arch to span.

Then faintly ceasing-one by one,
That plaintive voice breathed on alone,
Its wild, heart-soothing lay :

And then again that moon-light band,
Started, as if by magic wand,

In one bold burst away.

169

The joyous laugh came on the breeze,
And, 'mid the bright, o'er-hanging trees,

The mazy dance went round;

And, as in joyous ring they flew,

The smiling nymphs the wild flowers threw,
That clustered on the ground.

Soft as a summer evening's sigh,
From each o'er-hanging balcony,
Low, fervent whisperings fell
And many a heart upon that night
On fancy's pinion sped its flight,
Where holier beings dwell.

Each lovely form the eye might see,
The dark-browed maid of Italy,

With love's own sparkling eyes:

The fairy Swiss-all-all that night.
Smiled in the moon-beam's silvery light,
Fair as their native skies.

The moon went down, and o'er that glowing sea,
With darkness, Silence spread abroad her wing.
Nor dash of oars, nor harp's wild minstrelsy,
Came o'er the waters in that mighty ring.
All nature slept—and, save the far-off moan
Of ocean surges, Silence reigned alone.