Month after month devising impost-laws,
Give some small portion of your midnight vigils,
To mitigate, if not remove the wrong.

Relentless justice! with fate-furrowed brow! Wherefore to various crimes of various guilt, One penalty, the most severe, allot! Why, palled in state, and mitred with a wreath Of nightshade, dost thou sit portentously, Beneath a cloudy canopy of sighs, Of fears, of trembling hopes, of boding doubts! Death's dart thy mace!-Why are the laws of God, Statutes promulged in characters of fire, * Despised in deep concerns, where heavenly guidance Is most required! The murderer-let him die, And him who lifts his arm against his parent, His country, or his voice against his God. Let crimes less heinous dooms less dreadful meet, Than loss of life! so said the law divine, That law beneficent, which mildly stretched To men forgotten and forlorn, the hand

• "And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled."Exod. xix. 16.

3

Of restitution: Yes, the trumpet's voice
The Sabbath of the jubilee * announced:
The freedom-freighted blast, through all the land
At once, in every city, echoing rings,
From Lebanon to Carmel's woody cliffs,
So loud, that far within the desart's verge
The couching lion starts, and glares around.
Free is the bondman now, each one returns
To his inheritance: The man, grown old
In servitude far from his native fields,
Hastes joyous on his way; no hills are steep,
Smooth is each rugged path; his little ones
Sport as they go, while oft the mother chides
The lingering step, lured by the way-side flowers :
At length the hill, from which a farewell look,

And still another parting look, he cast On his paternal vale, appears in view: The summit gained, throbs hard his heart with joy And sorrow blent, to see that vale once more : Instant his eager eye darts to the roof Where first he saw the light: his youngest born He lifts, and, pointing to the much-loved spot, Says,-"There thy fathers lived, and there they sleep." Onward he wends; near and more near he draws: How sweet the tinkle of the palm-bowered brook! The sun-beam slanting thro' the cedar grove How lovely, and how mild! but lovelier still The welcome in the eye of ancient friends, Scarce known at first! and dear the fig-tree shade, 'Neath which on Sabbath eve his father told * Of Israel from the house of bondage freed, Led through the desart to the promised land;With eager arms the aged stem he clasps,

*" And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. - Thou shalt say unto thy son, We were Pharaoh's bondmen in Egypt; and the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand." DEUT. vi. 6. 7.21.

And with his tears the furrowed bark bedews:
And still, at midnight-hour, he thinks he hears
The blissful sound that brake the bondman's chains,

The glorious peal of freedom and of joy !

Did ever law of man a power like this
Display? power marvellous as merciful,
Which, though in other ordinances still
Most plainly seen, is yet but little marked
For what it truly is, -a miracle!
Stupendous, ever new, performed at once
In every region,-yea, on every sea
Which Europe's navies plow;-yes, in all lands
From pole to pole, or civilized or rude,
People there are, to whom the Sabbath morn
Dawns, shedding dews into their drooping hearts:
Yes, far beyond the high-heaved western wave,
Amid COLUMBIA'S wildernesses vast,

The words which God in thunder from the mount
Of Sinai spake, are heard, and are obeyed.
Thy children, SCOTIA, in the desart land,
Driven from their homes by fell Monopoly,
Keep holy to the Lord the seventh day.
Assembled under loftiest canopy
Of trees primeval, soon to be laid low,
They sing, By Babel's streams we sat and wept.

What strong mysterious links enchain the heart To regions where the morn of life was spent! In foreign lands, though happier be the clime, Though round our board smile all the friends we love, The face of nature wears a stranger's look. Yea, though the valley which we loved be swept Of its inhabitants, none left behind,

Not even the poor blind man who sought his bread From door to door, still, still there is a want; Yes, even he, round whom a night that knows No dawn is ever spread, whose native vale Presented to his closed eyes a blank,Deplores its distance now. There well he knew Each object, though unseen; there could he wend His way, guideless, through wilds and mazy woods; Each aged tree, spared when the forest fell, Was his familiar friend, from the smooth birch, With rind of silken touch, to the rough elm : The three gray stones, that marked where heroes lay, Mourned by the harp, mourned by the melting voice Of Cona, oft his resting-place had been; Oft had they told him that his home was near: The tinkle of the rill, the murmuring So gentle of the brook, the torrent's rush, The cataract's din, the ocean's distant roar, The echo's answer to his foot or voice;