A HYMN TO NIGHT. 4*7 



" Now to thy silent presence, night ! 



Is this my first song offer'd : oh ! to thee 

 That lookest with' thy thousand eyes of light 



To thee and thy starry nobility 

 That float with a deli cious murmuring 



Though unheard here about thy forehead blue ; 



And as they ride along in order due, 

 Circling the round globe in their wandering. 

 To thee their ancient queen and mother sing. . . . 

 Not dull and cold and dark art thou : 

 Who that beholds thy clearer brow, 

 Endiademed with gentlest streaks 



Of fleecy-silver'd cloud, adorning 

 / Thee, fair as when the young sun wakes. . . , 



But must feel thy powers." 



In some such ecstatic strains as this we may laud our 

 moonlit nights, acknowledging in our heart of hearts the 

 power of their silent, subtle loveliness ; but how shall we com- 

 pare them with nights made wonderful by a blending of golden 

 and emerald fires? by the shifting coruscations of stars of 

 many colours ? 



But here we must conclude a dissertation which threatens to 

 become a rhapsody. It is difficult, however, to treat of such 

 a theme, and to follow up all its strange and startling sugges- 

 tions, in sober prose. 



THE ALPINE FLORA. 



The Alpine Flora, of which in a preceding section we have 

 given a very imperfect sketch, has been examined with loving 

 minuteness by Messrs Elijah Walton and T. G. Bonney; and 

 other united results of pen and pencil have been placed be- 

 fore the public in a handsome volume entitled " Flowers 



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