TO THE PAEDAGOGUS.

 Teacher, to Thee a chaplet I present,

 Woven of words culled from the spotless mead,

 Where Thou dost feed Thy flocks; like to the bee,

 That skilful worker, which from many a flower

 Gathers its treasures, that she may convey

 A luscious offering to the master's hand.

 Though but the least, I am Thy servant still,

 (Seemly is praise to Thee for Thy behests).

 O King, great Giver of good gifts to men,

 Lord of the good, Father, of all the Maker,

 Who heaven and heaven's adornment, by Thy word

 Divine fitly disposed, alone didst make;

 Who broughtest forth the sunshine and the day;

 Who didst appoint their courses to the stars,

 And how the earth and sea their place should keep;

 And when the seasons, in their circling course,

 Winter and summer, spring and autumn, each

 Should come, according to well-ordered plan;

 Out of a confused heap who didst create

 This ordered sphere, and from the shapeless mass

 Of matter didst the universe adorn;--

 Grant to me life, and be that life welt spent,

 Thy grace enjoying; let me act and speak

 In all things as Thy Holy Scriptures teach;

 Thee and Thy co-eternal Word, All-wise,

 From Thee proceeding, ever may I praise;

 Give me nor poverty nor wealth, but what is meet,

 Father, in life, and then life's happy close.