When stript of all th' illusions distance lent,
The gilded clouds shall leave life's summit bare,
And sad experience prove the steep ascent

A path beset by peril, grief, and care.
But are there no sweet fountains gushing round,
Whose limpid rills through fields of verdure stray?
Can no cool shades that yield repose be found,
To glad the traveller on his toilsome way?

No, there are none! 'tis all a vale of tears;
Life's dreary waste is shrouded deep in gloom-
No ray of light the fainting wanderer cheers;
There is no rest, or only in the tomb!
We dream of bliss and find our dreaming vain-
There is no earthly good that will not cloy;
Time only turns enjoyment into pain,

And shows the bitter mockery of joy!
Bright prospects tantalize the dazzled sight,
Then in an instant like the mirage fade!
Sequestered groves to soft retreats invite,

But deadly damps infest their fatal shade.
Fair seeming streams of crystal gurgling burst,
Through flowery meads that to the brink allure,
The waters cannot slake the fevered thirst,

The flowers prove noisome and the wave impure! Then do not seek a solace for thy grief,

Poor weary wanderer through a world of woe;
Earth will not yield thy drooping soul relief,
All, all is utter nothingness below!

There are, who, haters of the human kind,
The direst foemen to themselves and man,
Thus view the world, in wilful error blind,
And impious question the Omniscient's plan.
O listen not to their insidious strain,

Though genius gild it with Truth's seeming guise, But rather seek to join their cheerful train,

Who find some good in all that greets their
Yes, be it ours the brighter side to see,―
Has earth no charms? hath life no poetry?

Go, gaze on Nature's lovely face,
Where every moment adds a new,
A changing yet undying grace,

To scenes that ravish while we view!
Her canopy of blue survey,

When like a conqueror glad and bright,
The sun brings back the golden day,

And wakes the world to life and light;
When earth rejoicing in his beams,

Sends from her tuneful choirs on high,
Her vocal groves and sounding streams,
Sweet voices to salute the sky.

The genial ray all nature warms;

eyes:

The hills are wreathed in light, the vales
Unbosomed ope their hidden charms,

To dally with the wanton gales.
The little brooklets bounding free,
In joy the glad effulgence quaff,
And shake their crystal bells with glee,
Shout as they leap, and leaping laugh!
While on their banks sweet flowers, blushing
To see their mirrored forms so fair,

Seem listening to the music, gushing

From land and wave around them there ;—

As softly floating on the air,

As if the soul of music, borne
Along the dewy wings of morn,
Breathed out upon the fitful breeze,
Its most entrancing melodies!

Can scenes like these yield no delight?
When earth is fair and heaven is bright,
And all around, beneath, above,
Exult in life, and joy, and love!
O! to the uncorrupted mind,
By feeling and by taste refined,
Nature hath aye a gentle power
To render bright the darkest hour;
Deep in the breast it wins its way,
With silent but resistless sway,
Fills with a kindred calm the soul,
Soothes every sorrow, sets it free
From sordid passion's base control,
And wakes its inward purity.

Perverted his benighted heart,
To whom her charms no joy impart ;
Who passes with unheeding eye,
Her revelations coldly by ;
And when in gentle beauty dressed,
Her milder, softer forms she takes,
And seems serenely hushed to rest,
Sees naught that soothingly awakes
A tranquil pleasure in his breast;
Nor in her wild magnificence,

When robed in solemn grandeur stern, Feels a controlling, awing sense

Of wonder in his bosom burn.
His sordid breast can never feel
A sympathy for other's weal ;
Can never with compassion glow,
Or melt to learn another's woe.
But wrapt in self, apart, and lone,
Low groveling in the dust he lies;
2

Unfriended, outcast, and unknown,

Lives like the brute-then brute-like dies.

Not such who nature view aright;
She like a bounteous mother mild,
Forever hath some new delight,

Some blessing to reward her child.
With lavish hand, around she showers
Her beauties on this world of ours;
Where each successive season brings
Some fresh enchantment on its wings.
Her gentle voice is never still;

For every feeling of the soul
It hath an answering tone, to fill
With awe, or love, or joy, to thrill,

To soften, soothe, excite, control.
The common birthright free of all,
Her joys are pure, and never pall.
And written by the Godhead's finger,
In language wondrous and sublime—
Whose characters shall fadeless linger,
Unsullied by the touch of time,
Nature hath glowing on her page,

Teachings with holier wisdom fraught,
And grander truths than olden sage,
Or bard or prophet ever taught.

The gilded insect of an hour,

The frailest, the minutest flower

That blushes on some unseen sod,

As well as earth's old mountains hoar,
The thunder's crash, the ocean's roar,
Proclaim alike their author God!
O pierce the veil of shadows dim-
The types that hide His majesty,
And through their mysteries look to Him,

Whose fiat framed the world and sky.

Stand by some sea-washed mountain-steep,
And view the wonders of the deep-
When o'er the world of waters wide
The billows sleep, the gales subside,
And nought along the shore is heard,
But the low music of the surge,

Or

cry of some lone sea-born bird, That wails unseen its plaintive dirge; Or when the shrieking tempest raves, And madly dash the angry waves— The wild winds in their fury roam, And lash the breakers into foam; Down to the deepest caves below, The frighted waters shrinking go, Then, gathering madness as they rise, Mount to the clouds and sweep the skies; Now black, enwrapt in treble night, Now in the lightning gleaming bright! When mute, bewildered, and amazed, In breathless wonder thou hast gazed,

On such a scene, let thought expand And soar to Him, who throned afar Beyond the outmost sun or star, Controls the elemental war,

And holds the lightnings in his hand; His might and glory learn, who made The winds and waves, and to them said, Here be your pride and empire stayed!

When the last flush of parting day
Fades in the west and dies away,
And night from out her depths of blue,
Unveils her mysteries to the view-
Go, watch those bright eternal spheres
That hold above their course sublime,