In priestly vest, with holy offerings charged, Nor will the power we serve, that sacred power, A ministration humble but sincere, That from a threshold loved by every muse Its impulse took, that sorrow-stricken door, EVENING VOLUNTARIES "CALM IS THE FRAGRANT AIR, AND LOTH TO LOSE وو CALM is the fragrant air, and loth to lose Day's grateful warmth, tho' moist with falling dews. You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, The busy dor-hawk chases the white moth Wheels and the tread of hoofs are heard no more; ON A HIGH PART OF THE COAST Easter Sunday, April 7. THE AUTHOR'S SIXTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY THE sun, that seemed so mildly to retire, The boundless plain of waters seems to lie :--- Thou power supreme! who, arming to rebuke For the brief course that must for me remain ; Whate'er the path these mortal feet may trace, |