O Poesy, bewitching power! What fascinations are thy dower! Thy touch can turn to more than gold Such as but grow in Fancy's bowers. Ev'n now, what charms thy magic spell Has thrown around a hermit's cell: Who that has read that witching lay, "But long'd for wings to flee away” * See Keat. To some sweet spot of rest, and share The hermit's cell, the hermit's fare, Such fare, as Nature in the wild For those who view with thoughtful eye And, freed from turmoil and annoy, There woo sweet Peace, and Peace enjoy. Peace! fond enthusiast; deem'st thou, then, She needs must live in lonely glen, In desert wilds, or mountain cave, Slow waving in the midnight breeze? Ah! foolish one-recall that thought; There's not on earth one certain spot One home she hath, one dwelling-place, From which, for heav'n, she scarce would part She hath (though rarely there, I ween) More frequent in the humble cot, Go, — pierce yon murky alley, where Where all in vain the glorious sun Enter that room, what meets thee there? Nay, shrink not with fastidious pride, But take thy stand that couch beside ; Their victim bind with triple chain, There shalt thou see earth's noblest sight, A spirit wing'd for heavenward flight. And turn'd thick midnight into day. Now, hie thee hence, and dream no more Of hermit's cell, and frugal store; Of skull, of maple-dish, or glass Which marks how swift the hours do pass; But ply in Duty's path thy feet, 'Tis likeliest there sweet Peace thou 'lt meet; And, if a lowly heart be thine, Be sure she'll make that heart her shrine. CHRIST'S THORN. RHAMNUS PALIURUS. "'T was sin mair'd all; and the revolt of man, That source of evils not exhausted yet. WHEN Nature" lectures man in heavenly truth," how wise, how various are her lessons! If the mind needs soothing and encouraging, she leads us to those objects which afford pure proofs of the wisdom and goodness of the great Creator; if elevating, she bids us look on "the heavens, the work of His fingers;" if warning, she tells us of the earthquake and the tempest, or, perhaps, with more of pathos, she points to the thorns and the thistles, which beset our every-day path, thence taking occasion to remind us, for whose offence "the prickly curse" was inflicted. "Cursed is the ground for thy sake; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee." Such was a part of the doom denounced against man when he eat of the forbidden tree. |