the heavens began,
  How the gods are glad and angry, and a Deity once was man.

  I had thought, "Perchance in the cities where the rulers of India dwell,
  Whose orders flash from the far land, who girdle the earth with a spell,
  They have fathomed the depths we float on, or measured the unknown main—"
  Sadly they turn from the venture, and say that the quest is vain.

  Is life, then, a dream and delusion, and where shall the dreamer awake?
  Is the world seen like shadows on water, and what if the mirror break?
  Shall it pass as a camp that is struck, as a tent that is gathered and gone
  From the sands that were lamp-lit at eve, and at morning are level and lone?

  Is there naught in the heaven above, whence the hail and the levin are hurled,
  But the wind that is swept around us by the rush of the rolling world?
  The wind that shall scatter my ashes, and bear me to silence and sleep
  With the dirge, and the sounds of lamenting, and voices of women who weep.

SIR ALFRED COMYNS LYALL.

* * * * *

BRAHMA.

  If the red slayer think he slays,
    Or if the slain think he is slain,
  They know not well the subtle ways
    I keep, and pass, and turn again.

  Far or forgot to me is near;
    Shadow and sunlight are the same;
  The vanished gods to me appear;
    And one to me are shame and fame.

  They reckon ill who leave me out;
    When me they fly, I am the wings;
  I am the doubter and the doubt,
    And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

  The strong gods pine for my abode,
    And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
  But thou, meek lover of the good!
    Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

* * * * *

HYMN TO ZEUS.

  Most glorious of all the Undying, many-named, girt round with awe!
  Jove, author of Nature, applying to all things the rudder of law—
  Hail! Hail! for it justly rejoices the races whose life is a span
  To lift unto thee their voices—the Author and Framer of man.
  For we are thy sons; thou didst give us the symbols of speech at our birth,
  Alone of the things that live, and mortal move upon earth.
  Wherefore thou shalt find me extolling and ever singing thy praise;
  Since thee the great Universe, rolling on its path round the world, obeys:—
  Obeys thee, wherever thou guidest, and gladly is bound in thy bands,
  So great is the power thou confidest, with strong, invincible hands,
  To thy mighty ministering servant, the bolt of the thunder, that flies,
  Two-edged like a sword, and fervent, that is living and never dies.
  All nature, in fear and dismay, doth quake in the path of its stroke,
  What time thou preparest the way for the one Word thy lips have spoke,
  Which blends with lights smaller and greater, which pervadeth and thrilleth all things,
  So great is thy power and thy nature—in the Universe Highest of Kings!
  On earth, of all deeds that are done, O God! there is none without thee;
  In the holy ether not one, nor one on the face of the sea,
  Save the deeds that evil men, driven by their own blind folly, have planned;
  But things that have grown uneven are made even again by thy hand;
  And things unseemly grow seemly, the unfriendly are friendly to thee;
  For no good and evil supremely thou hast blended in one by decree.
  For all thy decree is one ever—a Word that endureth for aye,
  Which mortals, rebellious, endeavor to flee from and shun to obey—
  Ill-fated, that, worn with proneness for the lord-ship of goodly things,
  Neither hear nor behold, in its oneness, the law that divinity brings;
  Which men with reason obeying, might attain unto glorious life,
  No longer aimlessly straying in the paths of ignoble strife.
  There are men with a zeal unblest, that are wearied with following of fame,
  And men with a baser quest, that are turned to lucre and shame.
  There are men too that pamper and pleasure the flesh with delicate stings:
  All these desire beyond measure to be other than all these things.
  Great Jove, all-giver, dark-clouded, great Lord of the thunderbolt's breath!
  Deliver the men that are shrouded in ignorance dismal as death.
  O Father! dispel from their souls the darkness, and grant them the light
  Of reason, thy stay, when the whole wide world thou rulest with might,
  That we, being honored, may honor thy name with the music of hymns,
  Extolling the deeds of the Donor, unceasing, as rightly beseems
  Mankind; for no worthier trust is awarded to God or to man
  Than forever to glory with justice in the law that endures and is One.

From the Greek of CLEANTHES.

* * * * *

TE DEUM LAUDAMUS.

  We praise thee, O God; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord.
  All the earth doth worship thee, the Father everlasting.
  To thee all Angels cry aloud; the Heavens, and all the powers therein.
  To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry,
  Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabaoth;
  Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty of thy Glory.
  The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee.
  The goodly fellowship of the Prophets praise thee.
  The noble army of Martyrs praise thee.
  The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge thee;
  The Father of an infinite Majesty;
  Thine adorable, true, and only Son;
  Also the Holy Ghost, the Comforter.
  Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ.
  Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father.
  When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man, thou didst humble thyself to be born of a Virgin.
  When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers.
  Thou sittest at the right hand of God, in the Glory of the Father.
  We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge.
  We therefore pray thee, help thy servants, whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood.
  Make them to be numbered with thy Saints, in glory everlasting.
  O Lord, save thy people, and bless thine heritage.
  Govern them, and lift them up for ever.
  Day by day we magnify thee;
  And we worship thy Name ever, world without end.
  Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin.
  O Lord, have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us.
  O Lord, let thy mercy be upon us, as our trust is in thee.
  O Lord, in thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded.[A]

Version of the

AMERICAN EPISCOPAL CHURCH PRAYER-BOOK.

[Footnote A: This venerable hymn, familiar as a part of the morning service in the Roman Catholic and Protestant Episcopal Churches, and on special occasions in many Protestant Churches, has usually been ascribed to the great St. Ambrose of Milan and St. Augustine, his greater convert, in the year 387 A.D. But, like other productions of mighty influence, it was doubtless a growth. Portions of it appear in the writings of St.