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joy! Wilt thou gain that “isle of beauty"? is seized by melancholy thoughts. The heart Worship the meek and gentle Jesus ; deeper is full to bursting. The pensive evening sinks and richer glory shall break on thy soul and into dismal night; and the trees look so sombre melody. Thou hast, perchance, stood by the and full of gloom. Hours that are past, how side of thine Own, in some evening's hallowed gaze ye into this present season! Poor Hazlitt, twilight, and she hath sung thee a song of we shall never forget the woods of Tuderley ; the better land, and its musie hath thrilled thy and whenever that name is sounded, thy sorbeing; even such shall the song be, but far more rows will breathe themselves into our bosom. delicious: and thou shalt meet thy parents, One had not thought his heart so deep and and thy children, and all whom thou hast loved; gushing; and yet we seem to behold even and in the calm sunset of heaven shalt thou more of this when he speaks of his lost child : recal the days of infancy and youth, and pointing I have never seen death but once, and that was in an to this beauteous earth, rolling along the azure infant. It is years ago. The look was calm and placid, expanse, shalt thine heart throb with unspeak- and the face was fair and firm. It was as if a waxen able bliss; that bliss shall be holy. And those image had been laid out in the coffin, and strewed with
innocent flowers. It was not like death, but more like exquisitely soft strains of Cowper and Bowles
an image of life! No breath moved the lips, no pulse shall come warbling on the air, and fill it with stirred, no sight or sound would enter those eyes or ears sweetness : never wilt thou forget : thou canst
I looked at it, I saw no pain was there; it seemed not, memory lives, its golden light radiates I could not bear the coffin-lid to be closed-it seemed
to smile at the short pany of life which was over : but for ever.
Seest thou that gentle flower, up- to'stifle me; and still as the nettles wave in a corner rearing its lovely petals to the morning breath: of the churchyard over his little grave, the welcome breeze So shalt thou be looking upwards and drawing helps to refresh me, and ease the tightness of my breast. thy life, thy happiness from the Invisible. Thus wrecked were his hopes and delicious Love Christ, the divinity shines in him; the dreams. There is a touching plaint in his sounds of ocean and the whisperings of tender language. His voice is melancholy; his eye affection issue from his lips. Behold thyself is dimmed with sorrow. No high flash now! and live! He is thy brother, kinsman, God! That has passed: gone into the shades of years. Live, live; and thou shalt scent the odoriferous How he kindled at the sound of triumphant flowers of paradise, with angels and thine own liberty, sitting enthroned on the world's embeloved ones!
pire, and peace and plenty flowing over isles And thus does Hazlitt at times open up his and continents! Then "the immortal light, heart. In general he keeps strictly to the all young and joyful, million-orbed, millionsubject on which he dilates; but now and colored, will beam over the universe as at the then we get an insight into his bosom: we first morning.” So deemed his ardent and behold the man. Indeed to us now no passages glowing faith; but even these visions were are so full of simple beauty as these of which scattered : had they not been so, we perhaps we are speaking, none so powerful to win us had never heard some of his fullest and deepest away from the world to gaze into the eye breathings: all passed away, his visions and of Hazlitt, and to grasp his warm hand in gentle slumberings. Yea, the creations beautenderest sympathy. He will tell you of his tiful and bright, the melodies like “ wanderings in the woods of Norman Court; he light cadences melting to silence, when upon will breathe out his painful recollections, and the breeze some holy bard lets fail an anthem you, reader, shall be subdued :
sweet to cheer itself to Delphi,” the mag
nificent bursts of song, the immortal stirring, Ye woods that crown the clear lone brow of Norman Court, why do I revisit ye so oft, and feel a soothing
the everlasting aspirations, the profound bliss, consciousness of your presence, but that your high tops
the sinking into all soul, the divine influx, waving in the wind recal to me the hours and years that the sky with her myriad stars breathing her are for ever fled, that ye renew in ceaseless murmurs the sylph-like tones, the silence of deserts and that in your solitudes and tangled wilds I can wander lofty mountains, more exquisite than the suband lose myself as I wander on, and am lost in the tle witchery of an evening hymn, the un. branches give the loud blast to the waste below-borne through the whole being, a sort of rich, solitude of iny own heart; and that, as your rustling defined thrill of delicious emotions trembling patient anguish at the cheerless desolation which I feel throbbing, musical feeling, as though the entire within! Without that face pale as the primrose with existence were one heart, the dilating and hyacinthine locks, for ever shunning and for ever haunt.
enkindling and burning spirit, the quenchless ing me, mocking my waking thoughts as in a dream,
love of excellence, the basking in the empyrean, without that smile which my heart could never turn to scorn, without those eyes dark with their own lustre, the more than laving in the clearest streams, still bent on mine, and drawing the soul into their the passionate love of painting, the worship liquid mazes like a sea of love, without that name
of the world's Scourge, the tossings and throes trembling in fancy's ear, without that form gliding before me like Oread or Dryad in fabled groves, what should
of his bosom, all, all passed with him: all, I do, how pass away the listless leaden-footed hours? all. Not one remained. And then well might Then wave, wave on, ye woods of Tuderley, and lift your he weep to find instead of these, the scoff, high tops in the air: my sighs and vows uttered by your mystic voice breathe into me my former being, and
the taunt, the indifferent reception. Oh, he enable me to bear the thing I am!
had rather turned back to that sweet day,
when he was at All-Foxden; that day “when Poor Hazlitt, one cannot but feel for him. Wordsworth, looking out of the low latticed One loves the name of Norman Court; and window said, 'how beautifully the sun sets fancies the wood is not far distant from us, on that yellow bank !”” than tread onwards to and yet far, far away from the world. We the future, lonely and broken-hearted. seem to wander amid the dim paths; and while we listen to the fitful breeze, our soul
everlasting, its harmonies imperishable. The BISHOP HEBER.
purer and the holier we become, the deeper will
be our love for its sublime teachings. None ever To contemplate Heber, either in the character | listened to its grandeur of song without sighing of a Christian Bishop or a sacred poet, must for immortality, without feeling that the spirit ever be a pleasing task. With the bard alone is eternal, without wishing for something more we have at present to do ; and the very morn hallowed than aught on earth, without making on which we write seems to partake much of resolves of future good, without determining to the gentleness and quiet beauty of his poetry. forsake sin, without sending the thoughts far His strains do not madden the brain, flush the out into the infinite expanse of existence, with cheek, and quicken the throbbings of the heart ; out creating scenes of quiet, undisturbed and but they breathe a softness and gentleness quite unruffled bliss. Every vibration of its chords their own. It has been one of our sweetest is as the sweep of the hurricane, yet gentle as enjoyments to listen to the melody of his voice, the soft cooing of the ring-dove. We cannot and the mild yet elegant language of his lips. hear its lofty minstrelsy without beholding the We love to suit the time of reading a favourite beauty of flower, field, and tree, without seeing author with the distinguishing features of his additional loveliness in the gambols of childhood, productions; thus we read Coleridge when the the blush of first affection, the fond clinging of heavens are serene, and the world seems to lie true-hearted attachment, the bended knee, the in dreaminess; Cowper, when the winter covers meek devotion of a child of God; without the landscape with snow, and makes us feel thirsting more intensely after a fairer and suna deeper and higher delight in the comfort of nier clime, and a happier and better home. an English fireside; and Heber, when a beauti- And sculpture and architecture and painting ful dawn streaks the horizon with the light of a produce the same effect; the same everlasting summer's day. The fair, enchanting loveliness potency dwells in all; they issue from the same of creation expands the soul, gives it a richer immortal spirit. We do not say that they intone, draws out the feelings, lets loose the ima- fluence man always to put into practice what gination, weaves a web of glorious thoughts, they inspire; that must come from a far higher wraps into a forgetfulness of every-day exist- and Diviner power; but they ever stir his ence, brightens, radiates, etherealizes the fancy, bosom with thrilling and beautiful emotionsopens up resplendent visions, fits the spirit to they ever tend to that which is good and lovely. enter fully into the liquid harmonies of the Heber is chiefly known by his prize poem of poet.
Palestine. It displays both learning and eleIn Heber's poems, piety shines pre-eminent; / gance, but little or no originality; for chastewe mean the piety of the heart, which includes
ness of expression and beauty of design it has, heirship to the throne of heaven. They are perhaps, few equals. This, on the restoration alike suited to the sunny day of success and of the Jews to favour, is very harmonious :the dark hour of adversity; they ever yield consolation. Nor are we less pleased with
Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare,
Lo! thrones arise, and every saint is there; their elegance; they are chaste and exquisite. Earth's utmost bounds confess their awful sway, What can be more beautiful than this ?
The mountains worship and the isles obey;
Nor sun nor moon they need-nor day, nor night;
God is their temple, and the Lamb their light:
And shall not Israel's sons exulting come,
Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home?
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign,
And the dry bones be warm with life again.
Hark! white-robed crowds their deep hozannas raise,
And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise;
Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song,
Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong:
“Worthy the Lamb! omnipotent to save,
Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the grave."
Though there is much grace and harmony in
these lines, there is little of the deep, thrilling Will shake the soul with sorrow's power, And stormy passion's rage.
outbreaks of the poet-no gigantic mass of O Thou, whose infant feet were found
sound seizing the very soul; the tremendous Within thy Father's shrine,
roll of music sweeps not onwards from Heber's Whose years with changeless virtue crowned
lyre, it is a soft and liquid warble. The versiWere all alike divine: Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,
fication of this production we acknowledge to We seek Thy grace alone;
be melodious and the language elegant; but In childhood, manhood, age, and death,
the bard moves us not; the heart is untouched, To keep us still thine own.
though the ear is continually pleased. There There is a sweetness and a melting music is, however, more poetry and originality in the about these verses which we cannot well following, from his fragment of the World bedescribe; enough, however, that they cheer the fore the Flood :troubled breast with the melody of immortal
There came a spirit down at eventide hope. There is a strange spell in reading true
To the city of Enoch, and the terraced height poetry. However simple the subject, let but the Of Jared's palace. On his turret.top bard touch it, and immediately it is vital with There Jared sate, the king, with lifted face, interest and beauty. Poetry is the language of
And eyes intent on Heaven, whose sober light
Slept on his ample forehead, and the locks man's pristine state; the language of angels ; Of crisped silver, beautiful in age, the language of the Divinity: its intonations are And--but that pride had dimmed, and lust of war,
Those reverend features with a darker shade
But Christ came; he propounded the law of Of saintly seeming,-yet no saintly mood;
the better land-he opened up the heart, as it No heavenward musing fixed that steadfast eye, God's enemy, and tyrant of mankind.
were, of the Divinity; the government of the Nor is the description of his daughter Ada throne was revealed—its secrets made known; less beautiful :
and such was the beauty and sweetness in the
language of his lips, that his enemies declared, Forth with all her damsels, Ada came, As mid the stars the silver-mantled moon,
“Never man spake like this.” In stature thus and form pre-eminent,
Perhaps one of Heber's most powerful hymns Fairest of mortal maids. Her father saw
is the following: That perfect comeliness, and his proud heart In purer bliss expanded. Long he gazed,
From Greenland's icy mountains, Nor wonder deemed that such should win the love
From India's coral strand, Of genius or of angel; such the cheek,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand-
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain, That nightly twinkles o'er a mountain well;
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain.
What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft on Ceylon's isle,
Though ev'ry prospect pleases, If we might form a judgment from the frag
And only man is vilement Heber has left, we believe that it would
In vain, with lavish kindness, have been the finest of his productions, had it
The gifts of God are strewn,
The heathen, in his blindness, been completed : there is much sweetness and
Bows down to wood and stone. beauty about it; and how hallowed and spiri
Can we, whose souls are lighted tual is Montgomery, and how voluptuous and
With wisdom from on high
Can we to men benighted melting is Moore, and how grand and magnifi
The lamp of life deny? cent is Byron, on the same subject !
Salvation! oh, salvation ! But our poet's greatest excellence lay in his
The joyful sound proclaim, hymns : his mind, habits, and tastes were pe
Till each remotest nation
Hath learnt Messiah's name. culiarly adapted for this kind of composition ;
Waft, waft, ye winds, his story; every one he has written is characteristic of the
And you, ye waters, roll, meek and gentle Heber. How beautiful is this
Till, like a sea of glory, on the soul-soothing and soul-elevating philoso
It spreads from pole to pole ;
Till o'er our ransomed nature phy of our Divine Redeemer :
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign!
With men missions are despised, and the cha-
racter they form is derided as mean and paltry; Warbles sweet philosophy:
they seem incapable of distinguishing what is "Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow; God provideth for the morrow!
truly great. The world, the golden, glittering, "Say, with richer crimson glows
sparkling world, is followed and worshipped and The kingly mantle than the rose ?
adored; but a day is coming, a day of sullen Say, have kings more wholesome fare
darkness, when all its brilliancy will depart and Than we poor citizens of the air?
the hideousness of its seducing power be reBarns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily.
vealed ; its drapery of scarlet, and purple, and Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow;
fine linen will be stripped; no more sweetly God provideth for the morrow! “One there lives, whose guardian eye
scented odours there will be loathsomeness, Guides our humble destiny;
rottennes, and putrifying stench; custom and One there lives, who, Lord of all,
fashion will loose their potent spell; the syrens' Keeps our feathers, lest they fall:
voice will enchant no longer ; and that which Pass we blithely, then, the time, Fearless of the snare and lime,
has been termed good, and noble, and manly, Free from doubt and faithless sorrow;
and which poets have hymned, and philosophers God provideth for the morrow!”
have lauded, and moralists have praised, and This is really music of heavenly tone and on which have shone the eye of beauty, and touch; what fulness of richest and deepest wealth, and genius, and upon which have been consolation is there in such a truth !_the fact lavished immortal spirits, and which has been itself is poetry; it is the gigantic and sublime wreathed around with flowery laurels, and principle which entwines the universe; its scented with earth's richest perfumes, and lig is the light of paradise-its melody the adorned with earth’s comeliest titles, will then melody of Eden. Fallen humanity deemed not be seen naught save a magnificent phasm, leadthus of its Almighty Creator; at times, indeed, ing humanity downwards to the deep, dark the verity, in all its grandeur, broke in upon dungeon of eternal woe. the soul of the heathen philosopher; but it But these semblance-worshippers sport themwas soon obscured, and clouded, and darkened selves with one of the purest developments of the by mistrust; the day-glory tarried not long-religion of Jesus, and deem it the effect of mad. it only came for a little hour-it died as soon ness and fanaticism. Madness, folly, to heal the as born ; it was too high and lofty a doctrine dying, and cleanse the unholy 2-madness, folly, - it was too magnificent for their notion of to visit the forgotten and outcast of earth's sons, God-it ill agreed with his other qualities and to tell them that, amid all their depravity, and attributes; it gave a radiance, but it and amid all their impurity, and amid all their was a radiance on a chaos - all was con- degradation, there is a star arisen in the world's fusion-nothing was certain-nothing settled. horizon, upon which, if any one may gaze, it
will pour forth such liquid melodies, that the what sacrifice is like to one who, for the reobdurest heart will melt, and the sternest sinner demption of the roaming savage, forsakes the seek forgiveness ? – madness, folly, to tell them land of his fathers, with its thousand memothat there flows from Calvary a stream, wherein ries and its thousand sweets, and bidding adieu if a man plunge, he shall be “whiter than to kinsmen whose faces were as the light of snow," and that there issues from Calvary's heaven, and whose love as deep as a river, and cross a mellowed light, wherein if a man bathe, whose kindness made the years pass as one he shall become divested of every taint and short sunny hour, betakes himself far oft amid every spot ?- madness, folly, to go to the be- strangers and amid foes, to labour till his deathnighted heathen who worships some idol of his hour for the renovation of immortal spirits? own workmanship, and who sacrifices at its Deride it as they may, sport with it as they shrine those nearest and dearest to his heart, will, the missionary character is essentially and and to tell him that there is One above who truly great; it approaches nearest to the Eterhath made perfect atonement, and that in the nal's; it bears his impress most deeply ; its “ blood shed” there is free and everlasting voice is the voice of the Divinity ; its master. pardon ?-to go to the beclouded pagan, who principle is the principle that governs him ; it stands on the shore of the boundless sea, and is man's highest dignity, man's loftiest bearing. then, listening to the waves dashing their music How exulting the song for Easter-day; enon the rocky coast, kneels to the magnificent thusiasm is in its every note :orb of day rising above the level of the ocean, and to tell him that there is something mightier,
God is gone up with a merry noise
Of saints that sing on high ; and greater, and more gigantic than the sun, to
With his own right hand and his holy arm which he renders so much homage, and that
He hath won the victory! this Being has wound his love around the
Now empty are the courts of Death,
And crushed thy sting, Despair; world, that that world might be knitted to him
And roses bloom in the desert tomb, for ever :- to go to the wild son of Ishmael,
For Jesus hath been there ! and as he stands bare-footed and bare-headed
And he hath tamed the strength of hell, beneath the midnight sky, and gazes upwards
And dragged him through the sky,
And captive behind his chariot-wheel on the starry immensity breathing its sweet,
He hath bound captivity. soft hymn, and whilst awed by the still silence
God is gone up with a merry noise and the profound solitudes of the arid desert, Of saints that sing on high;
With his own right hand and his holy arm be bends lowly to the vast material universe as
He hath won the victory! to his living god, to tell him that there is One whose lineaments of beauty are far more exqui- A fit hymn for the hour of the church's site, and whose features of majesty are far more triumph-it is one of joy. Blackness and gloom glorious, and whose attributes of grandeur are were the clouds that before had bedimmed the far more divine; and that this stupendous tomb; there was no life, there was no hope; universe, on which he leans as on the Supreme, the cypress and the yew moaned beside the is but the “goings forth" of this Holy and this grave; there were sounds of lamentation -Highest, and that there is a communion yet sounds of woe; the agonizing moment-so more elevating and soul-enkindling, and a wor- heart-rending, so heart-bursting, so heartship yet more hallowed and spirit-blessing, and stifling - was without onc cheering anticia service yet more exalted and heart-freeing ! pation of meeting again. Ah, those deep,
We will tell these lofty beings what it is that deep, heavy gigantic wails were without missions do. In the place of darkness, they one consoling assurance !- the parting of husshed the full beauty of immortal day; in the band and of wife, of child and mother, was stead of death, they put life; they find the man without one cheering ray; the tearing, breaklower sunk than " the beast which perisheth,” ing, convulsive, forcing away was without and they exalt him to throneship with the one beam of comfort; the last glance of the Everlasting; they find him going down to the eye, the last language of the lips, the last presgrave without one bright hope, and they strike sure of the hand, the last-it was all the last : out the hymn of an imperishable existence; a separation, a disunion, annihilation, or worse, for corruption, they give health; for pollution, for ever ;-no more to gaze on each other, purity: they find homes girt around with no more to greet with fondest love, no more wretchedness, and within full of misery, and kind and gentle services, no more vows of they cast thereon the hallowed beams of bles- unchanging attachment, no more prattle of sedness, and love, and peace; and in the desert, babe, no more tenderness, no more love, no where once prowled the savage, is seen the more life! What partings, then ; what adieus tapering spire pointing heavenwards, and often -- what farewells ! But henceforth there was on the winds comes the silvery chime of its light; immortality sprang up and everlasting chapel-bell; and in the place of adultery and peace; the dying man heard the imperishable uncleanness do they give chastity and holiness ; notes, caught the divine music; his heart and in the stead of violated abodes do they moved with happiness, throbbed with bliss ; raise the lovely shrine of domestic bliss; and his countenance shone with brightness, was in cities do they make good subjects and loyal radiated with glory; the room, the awful, terpeople; and in kingdoms do they establish rible room of death became the antechamber of the throne, and teach him that sitteth thereon heaven; the viol and the harp were there; to rule righteously; and over the whole world ever and anon would come the harmonies of do they throw a calm, unruffled repose and the invisible world, and the scents of that ripening plenty.
sweet clime; there were breathings of deepest Thus miss
regenerate th orld; and hope; angels came and tarried : and He, the
morning star, stood up the sky, and pointed to what thou seekest, Poet! The universe of God a land where there is everlasting reunion, and is mute to prayer like thine, mute, mute. So everlasting love.
higher look; look through creation to her Such strains as Heber's are suited to the Lord. worship of the Everlasting One; they become Rose sweet smelling on yon latticed porch the lips of the renewed man; they express the is but what the universe itself is to God-the feelings of the humble but believing heart; the scent of that essence supreme. There fix thine truths of the sky are sung to an earthly lyre; eye! we listen to their consoling and divine music ; Dawn, dawn, beautiful dawn awakes again, happiness then takes possession of the soul, a but in his chamber lonely kneels the spirit gentle soothing peace, the spirit. The hymn is to its God: nature mute: the spirit mute : eternal : it rises now, it will rise for ever-it is all round the presence of the Holy. Silence immortal and imperishable; as ages roll on, it on the soul when the Creator speaks. will deepen in its intonations ; it will become Light now and life ! light sweeter far than grander and more sublime. We already feel dawn, and life fairer than calmest eve; light its kindling, growing power. We awaken to and life, they are given and thy heart is happy. its dignity and gigantic influence. Bear us on How beautiful is light in the dwellings of thy breast, O song, to that world of love! the righteous ! Fairer then than spirit ever
dreamed in loveliest vision ; fairer, so fair, so
Who listened there,
Had heard the mother prattling to the children
Tales of their father, and low breathed numbers, WONDROUS these days to the subtle spirit :
Like the sequestered stock-dove's brooding murmur, days girt round with marvel ; days gemmed
Full of maternal tenderness – the burthen,
The gladness of that sire's return at even, with beauty; days edged with the opas loveli- When he should take the sweet boy from her bosom, ness of dawn; dawn opening into some orient Or on his daughter's head let fall the tear, clime, bathing nature in delicious light, and
The purest that can fall from human eye ;
While, quiet in her bliss, she should await pointing onwards to the holiest in heaven.
The sweet embrace; and after, on his breast Wondrous days are these; days of deep marvel. Reclined, from his meek lips receive account Sky tints on all; sapphire-fringed the universe. What knowledge, wisdom, truth, the sons of God How opens the world on the spirit, opens
Had won from large discourse on loftiest themes,
Or by the elders of the brethren taught, in blushing sweetness to enamour and win
Or from angelic ministers derived. for ever to itself; beautiful indeed the earth, and Anon the sun went down ; their hearts first bowed beautiful indeed man's soul! Something exqui
In worship pure, then folded each to each, sitely tuned to hymn of God; to hymn of purity
In calm repose; the stars watched o'er them. and peace!
Beautiful, most beautiful, the vale in which Deep, deep the heart; deep, deep its thoughts; these beings dwell ; beautiful indeed ! deeper still its love.
Sweet is the twilight eve in Armon's vale, So dawn breaks, and we wonder how the Sweet, lovely, tranquil, sometimes darkly throned, twinkling gems of heaven sink into pure un
And oft refulgent; soft the western wind, sullied light: all passed away, rolled up as
Floating white clouds through silent depths of blue,
O'er hills and haunts secluded, where the voice a scroll, those million burning watchers, rolled Of waters murmurs with the bleat of lambs. up till even.
Fair o'er the vale of Armon walks the moon And these have awakened a lofty spirit to In brightness, and on flowers, and streams, and hills, breathe out his magnificent song; have en- Flings beauteous radiance from her ample orb, kindled all the highest feelings of his heart
Streaking with silver lines the swarthy nightinto a holy flame of tenderness and truth.
Till grey with age, herself forshew her death;
The resurrection of another day, Sweet the dawn comes on through the wide As yet but hoped for; like a coming joy, heaven-portals, and to that dawn is turned the Subsisting in desire; as do the souls deep-seeing eye of a wondrous man, looking
In Hades, till with risen flesh reclothed. far down into its snowy whiteness, and praying So the poet's prayer is heard in heaven, and for the holiest.
utterance deep-toned is given. Sweet the evening steals away with crimson Dawn now the visions of the soul, glimpses and with gold. Sweet quietude on ocean's of beauty never to fade: gleams, ruby tinted, wave and the gentle purling rill. So sinks as of the sun's western course : but living, the sun beneath the western tide ; sinks in speaking to man's heart. hallowed twilight; unruffled and exquisitely Time rolls backward ; the dial of Ahaz moves
And as he sinks, that eye, deep- wonder in the heart of prince and people; wondering, watches and watches still, adoration backwards still, deeper and deeper into forbent. Down sinks the sun, and that eye in- gotten years, till time is fresh and young, with tensely looks; intensely and yet more intensely, the dews of morn upon her, and the grass till the last gleam fades from the dark sea- all beautiful and green. bosom, then lifts its light above on the quench- No rainbow in the heaven now; no exqui. less stars, and prays for inspiration.
site play of mysterious colours. Broad sky of Day after day, and night after night, that blue, deep, deep sapphire sea, calm, undisturbeye doth gaze : risen morn and beautiful eve ed, serene. pass on and on, and no dimness there, deep Quiet the universe around ; the garment of and deeper still the prophetic meaning and the Infinite; quiet all and beautiful; too beauthe fervid prayer.
tiful for the spirit to look upon; fair as virgin The universe, ah, no! can never give thee dawn.