CONSCIENCE.

INTERNAL Cerberus! whose griping fangs,
That gnaw the soul, are the mind's secret pangs;
Thou greedy vulture! that dost gorging tire
On hearts corrupted by impure desire;
Subtle and buzzing hornet! that dost ring

A peal of horror ere thou givest the sting;

The soul's rough file, that smoothness does impart ;
The hammer that does break the stony heart!

The worm that never dies! the "thorn within"
That pricks and pains! the whip and scourge of sin!
The voice of God in man! which without rest
Dost softly cry within a troubled breast-
"To all temptations is that soul set free
That makes not to itself a curb of me."

REV. JOHN NORRIS.

JOHN NORRIS, author of numerous theological works, as also of A Collection of Miscellanies, consisting of Poems, Essays, Discourses, and Letters, was born in 1657. It has been justly said, that "in the union of learning and logical argument with sublime piety, few have equalled Norris of Bemerton." In his writings there are many fine thoughts. In a stanza of a poem termed Transient Delight, Like angels' visits, short and bright,

we discover the origin of that admired thought in BLAIR's Grave

Visits

Like those of angels, short and far between :

and in CAMPBELL'S Pleasures of Memory,

Like angels' visits, few and far between.

Norris was rector of Bemerton, in Wiltshire, and died in 1711.

THE SIXTY-THIRD CHAPTER OF ISAIAH,

PARAPHRASED TO THE SIXTH VERSE.

A PINDARIC ODE.

STRANGE Scene of glory! am I well awake,

Or is't my fancy's wild mistake?

It cannot be a dream; bright beams of light

Flow from the visions fair, and pierce my tender sight

No common vision this; I see

Some marks of more than human majesty.

Who is this mighty Hero, who

With glories round his head, and terror in his brow?

From Bozrah, lo! He comes: a scarlet dye

O'erspreads his clothes, and does outvie
The blushes of the morning sky.
Triumphant and victorious He appears,

And honour in his looks and habit wears :

1

How strong He treads, how stately does He go!
Pompous and solemn is his pace,

And full of majesty as his face.

Who is this mighty Hero, who?

'Tis I who to my promise faithful stand;

I who the powers of death, hell, and the grave,
Have foiled with this all-conquering hand;

I who most ready am, and mighty too, to save.
Why wearest Thou then this scarlet dye?
Say, mighty Hero, why?

Why do thy garments look all red,

Like them that in the wine-vat tread?

The wine-press I alone have trod :

That vast unwieldy frame, which long did stand
Unmoved, and which no mortal force could e'er command,
That ponderous mass I plied alone,

And with me to assist were none.

A mighty task it was, worthy the Son of God;

Angels stood trembling at the dreadful sight,

Concerned with what success I should go through
The work I undertook to do;

Enraged I put forth all my might,

And down the engine pressed; the violent force

Disturbed the universe, put nature out of course:

The blood gushed out in streams, and checkered o'er

My garments with its deepest gore;

With ornamental drops bedecked I stood,

And writ my victory with my enemy's blood.
The day, the signal day is come

When of my enemies I must vengeance take;

The day when death shall have its doom,
And the dark kingdom with its powers shall shake.
Fate in her calendar marked out this day with red,
She folded down the iron leaf, and thus she said:

"This day, if aught I can divine be true,

Shall for a signal victory,

Be celebrated to posterity:

Then shall the Prince of Light descend,

And rescue mortals from th' infernal fiend;

Break through his strongest forts, and all his hosts subdue.” This said, she shut the adamantine volume close,

And wished she might the crowding years transpose;

So much she longed to have the scene display,
And see the vast event of this important day.

And now in midst of the revolving years,

This great, this mighty One appears:

The faithful traveller, the sun,

Has numbered out the days, and the set period run.

I looked, and to assist was none;

My angelic guards stood trembling by,

But durst not venture nigh.

In vain, too, from my Father did I look
For help; my Father me forsook.

Amazed I was to see,

How all deserted me.

I took my fury for my sole support,
And with my single arm the conquest won.
Loud acclamations filled all heaven's court:
The hymning guards above,

Strained to an higher pitch of joy and love,
The great Jehovah praised, and his victorious Son.

THE INFIDEL.

FAREWELL fruition, thou grand, cruel cheat,
Which first our hopes dost raise, and then defeat;
Farewell thou midwife to abortive bliss,

Thou mystery of fallacies.

Distance presents the object fair,

With charming features and a graceful air;
But when we come to seize the inviting prey,

Like a shy ghost it vanishes away.

So to the unthinking boy the distant sky
Seems on some mountain's surface to rely:
He with ambitious haste climbs the ascent,
Curious to touch the firmament.

But when, with an unwearied pace,

Arrived he is at the long wished-for place,
With sighs the sad defeat he does deplore-
His heaven is still as distant as before.

And yet 'twas long 'ere I could throughly see
This grand impostor's frequent treachery;

Though often fooled, yet I should still dream on,
Of pleasure in reversion:

Though still he did my hopes deceive,

His fair pretensions I would still believe;
Such was my charity, that though I knew,

And found him false, yet I would think him true.

But now he shall no more with shows deceive,

I will no more enjoy, no more believe;
The unwary juggler has so often shown
His fallacies, that now they're known.
Shall I trust on? the cheat is plain;
I will not be imposed upon again;
I'll view the bright appearance from afar,

But never try to catch the falling star.

AN HYMN UPON THE TRANSFIGURATION.

HAIL! King of glory, clad in robes of light,

Outshining all we here call bright!

Hail, light's divinest galaxy!

Hail, express image of the Deity!

Could now thy amorous spouse thy beauties view,

How would her wounds all bleed anew!

Lovely thou art, all o'er and bright,

Thou Israel's glory, and thou Gentile's light,