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crowned with succéss? Can even the husbandman, who has the promise of God that seed-time and harvest shall not fail, look forward with assured confidence to the expected increase of his fields? In these, and in all similar cases, our resolution to act can be founded on probability alone.
To the Ursa Major.
HENRY WARE, JR.
WITH what a stately and majestic step
Ages have witnessed thy devoted trust,
Joined the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs
Who thus had cast another sparkling gem,
Of splendors that enrich his firmament.
As thou art now, so wast thou then the same.
Ages have rolled their course, and time grown gray; The earth has gathered to her womb again,
And yet again, the myriads, that were born
The seas have changed their beds; th' eternal hills
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread; youth, strength,
I wonder as I gaze. That stream of light, Undimmed, unquenched, just as I see it now,Has issued from those dazzling points, through years That go back far into eternity. Exhaustless flood! forever spent, renewed Forever! Yea, and those refulgent drops, Which now descend upon my lifted eye, Left their far fountain twice three years ago. While those winged particles, whose speed outstrips The flight of thought, were on their way, the earth Compassed its tedious circuit round and round, And, in the extremes of annual change, beheld
Six autumns fade, six springs renew their bloom.
Yea, glorious lamps of God! He may have quenched Your ancient flames, and bid eternal night Rest on your spheres; and yet no tidings reach This distant planet. Messengers still come Laden with your far fire, and we may seem To see your lights still burning; while their blaze But hides the black wreck of extinguished realms, Where anarchy and darkness long have reigned.
Yet what is this, which to th' astonished mind Seems measureless, and which the baffled thought Confounds? A span, a point, in those domains Which the keen eye can traverse. Seven stars Dwell in that brilliant cluster, and the sight Embraces all at once; yet each from each Recedes as far as each of them from earth; And every star from every other burns No less remote. From the profound of heaven, Untravelled even in thought, keen, piercing rays Dart through the void, revealing to the sense Systems and worlds unnumbered. Take the glass And search the skies. The opening skies pour down Upon your gaze thick showers of sparkling fire
Stars, crowded, thronged, in regions so remote,
And multitude of God's most infinite works?
And these are suns!-vast, central, living fires, Lords of dependent systems, kings of worlds,
That wait as satellites upon their power,
And flourish in their smile. Awake, my soul,
Blaze round thee, leading forth their countless worlds!
And drink the bliss of being from the fount
Known but to thee, blessed Father! Thine they are,
Like the mean mote that dances in the beam
Tell me, ye splendid orbs, as from your thrones
How formed, how gifted? what their powers, their state,
And scattered woe where Heaven had planted joy?
And death unfeared; while fresh and fadeless youth
Open your lips, ye wonderful and fair! Speak, speak! the mysteries of those living worlds Unfold! No language? Everlasting light, And everlasting silence? - Yet the eye May read and understand. The hand of God Has written legibly what man may know THE GLORY OF THE MAKER. There it shines, Ineffable, unchangeable; and man, Bound to the surface of this pygmy globe, May know and ask no more. In other days, When death shall give th' encumbered spirit wings, Its range shall be extended; it shall roam, Perchance, amongst those vast, mysterious spheres, Shall pass from orb to orb, and dwell in each, Familiar with its children - learn their laws, And share their state, and study and adore The infinite varieties of bliss
And beauty by the hand of Power divine