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Circled with evil, till his very soul
Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd
By sights of evermore deformity!
With olher ministrations thou, O Nature!
Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child:
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences,
Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets;
Thy melodies of woods and winds, and waters!
Till he relent, and can no more endure
To be a jarring and a dissonant thing
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy,
But, bursting into tears, wins back his way,
His angry spirit heal'd and harmonised
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
AFTER A TEMPEST.
The day had been a day of wind and storm ;—
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,— And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm
Shone the grent sun on the wide earth at last.
I stood upon the upland slope, and cast
Where the vast plain lay girt by mountains vast,
The rain-drops glisten'd on the trees around,
Whose shadows on the tall grass were not stirr'd,
Save when a shower of diamonds, to the ground,
About the flowers; the cheerful rivulets sung
To the gray oak the squirrel, chiding, clung,
And from beneath the leaves that kept them dry
And darted up and down the butterfly,
The flocks came scattering from the thicket, where The violent rain had pent them; in the way
Stroll'd groups of damsels frolicksome and fair.
It was a scene of peace—and, like a spell,
Did that serene and golden sunlight fall
And precipice upspringing like a wall,
And glassy river and white waterfall,
And beauteous scene: while far beyond them all,
I look'd, and thought the quiet of the scene
An emblem of the peace that yet shall be, When o'er earth's continents and isles between,
The noise of war shall cease from sea to sea,
And mnrried nations dwell in harmony; When millions, crouching in the dust to one,
No more shall beg their lives on bended knee, Nor the black stake be dress'd, nor in the sun The o'er-labour'd captive toil, and wish his life were done.
Too long, at clash of arms amid her bowers
And pools of blood, the earth has stood aghast,
The fair earth, that should only blush with flowers
Lo, the clouds roll away—they break they fly,
O'er the wide landscape, from the embracing sky.
A MAIDEN'S SONG.
I Love! and Love hath given me
Sweet thoughts to God akin,
My heart of hearts within:
0 from this Eden of my life
1 love! and into Angel-land
With starry glimpses peer!
When One is smiling near!
For every falling tear.
Dear God in heaven! keep without stain
My bosom's brooding Dove:
And give it place above!
I yearn to take, but Love.
THE MOTHER'S FIRST GRIEF. Extracted from Knickerbocker, an American Magazine.
She sits beside the cradle,
And her tears are streaming fast,
While she thinks of all the past:
When her first-born's answering kiss
That it knew no other bliss.
They but deepen her despair,
And her baby is not there!
There are words of comfort spoken,
And the leaden clouds of grief
And she feels a sad relief:
Till they settle on the scene
Anil of all that might have been!
Or a shining tress of hair,
That her baby is not there!
She sits beside the cradle,
But her tears no longer flow,
And forgets all earthly woe;
And the Voice that hush'd the sea
"Suffer them to come to Me."
On the soaring wings of prayer,
And she sees her baby there!
ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.
O Thou eternal One! whose presence bright
There is no weight nor measure; none can mount
Up to Thy mysteries; reason's brightest spark,
Though kmdled by Thy light, in vain would try
To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark:
And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high,
Even like past moments in eternity.
Thou from primeval nothingness didst call
First chaos, then existence; Lord! on Thee
Eternity had its foundation ;—all
Sprung forth from Thee :—of light, joy, harmony,
Sole origin ;—all life, all beauty Thine.
Thy word created all, and doth create;
Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine;
Thou art, and wast, and shalt be! Glorious! Great!
Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate!
Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround:
Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath!
Thou the beginning with the end hast bound,
And beautifully mingled life and death!
As sparks mount upwards-from the fiery blaze,
So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee;
And as the spangles in the sunny rays
Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.
A million torches lighted by thy hand
"Wander unwearied through the blue abyss;
They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command,
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss.
What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light—
A glorious company of golden streams—
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright—
Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams?
But Thou to these art as the noon to night.
Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,
All this magnificence in Thee is lost—
What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee?
And what am I then? Heaven's unnumber'd host,
Though multiplied by myriads, and array'd
In all the glory of sublimest thought,
Is but an atom in the balance weigh'd
Against Thy greatness, is a cipher brought
Against infinity! What ami then? Nought!