Then hence, my son, and take thy rest,
And be thy youthful slumbers blest."

"My Father, lo! at thy command Before thy honoured face I stand."

“I did not call, my gentle son, It was the damp wind's sighing moan; Or some dull bird that shuns the light With screeching voice, that vext the night. Then hence, my child, to thy sweet rest, And be thy stainless slumbers blest."

The boy retires-but in short space
Returns, and asks his father's grace.

"It is some idle dream, my son,
That mocks thy ear with mimic tone ;-
I did not call thee;-hence away,
And rest in peace till dawning day ;—
And be thy prayers to heaven addrest,
Lest thoughts unholy soil thy breast."

Again, the boy before him stands ;
Again, he asks the priest's commands.

Awe-struck the holy man perceives
That now no idle dream bereaves

The lad of rest, nor night wind's sweep,

Nor phantom of fantastic sleep ;-
But, that a vision from the Lord,
Or holier still, that God's own word
Hath breath'd upon the midnight wind,
And stirr'd the youthful slumberer's mind.

Benignly, on the prophet child,

The old man's thoughtful eyes were bent One moment, ere his voice's mild

And blandest tone grave counsel lent

Unto the wondering boy, who stands

To listen to the priest's commands.

My son, thou must depart from me;

The voice thou heard'st was meant for thee;

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The mystic voice is from the sky,

E'en from thy God, who reigns on high;— Now, when its tones again shall pour

Their music on thy dreamy hour,

See, that thy most attentive ear

Is bent its blest commands to hear:
And answer to that holy word,

"Speak, for thy servant heareth, Lord."

The boy retired :—again his head

Was rested on his humble bed ;-
When lo! upon his trembling soul

The mystic word and vision stole.
Then Samuel bowed his heart and ear

The awful voice of God to hear;

And answer'd, to the holy word,

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Speak! for thy servant heareth, Lord."

The darksome tale of opening years
Was pour'd upon his awe-struck ears.
His dazzled eye beheld the sword

Of vengeance for God's slighted word;

And saw the scourge of iron sent
To Eli's house, for punishment,-
Defeat, destruction, overthrow,

Blood, death in every shape of woe!

With the first gleam of dawning day
The awful vision past away;—

But sleep came not to Samuel's eyes ;-
He watch'd the glorious sun arise;
And still he watch'd him, riding high,
Glad monarch of the glowing sky,

Ere he could nerve his soul to bear
The mission to old Eli's ear.

AFFLICTION'S LIGHT.

Unto the upright, there ariseth light in the darkness.-Psal. cxii. 4.

THE righteous man, whilst he abides below,
Heaven's primal curse on disobedience shares;

He bows beneath the burden of life's woe,

And mourns its hopes that cheat, and weeps its

cares;

His fairest sky a threatening aspect wears;

Th' offensive thorn he finds where blooms the rose;

Mixt with the wheat, he plucks the unsought tares; He sees dark clouds, where late the sun arose ; And deadly poison lurks, where sweetest honey flows:

But, e'en through sorrow's night, he owns God's love, Which wounds to purify his heart, not break ;– And lifts sublime, his hopes, this world above ;And dries the natural tear that stains his cheek;

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