No mortal object did these eye
When first they met the placid
And my Soul felt her destiny di
And hope of endless peace in me
Heaven-born, the Soul a heaven

hold ;
Beyond the visible world she soar
(For what delights the sense is fa.
Ideal Form, the universal mould.
The wise man, I affirm, can find nu
In that which perishes : nor will ha
His heart to aught that doth on tim.
'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not t:
That kills the soul : love betters wh:
Even here below, but more in heaver

XXVI.

FROM THE SAME. TO THE SUPREME

III.

THE prayers I make will then be sweet
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray,
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
That of its native self can nothing feed :
Of good and pious works Thou art the se
That quickens only where Thou say'st it

That change:- age on thy brow was smoothed,

thy cold, Wan cheek at once was privileged to unfold A loveliness to living youth denied. Oh! if within me hope should e'er decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend ! too faintly burn; Then may that heaven-revealing smile of thine, The bright assurance, visibly return : And let my spirit in thy power divine Rejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn.

xxx. It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea : Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder - everlastingly, Dear Child ! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine : Thou liest in Abraham’s bosom all the year; And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.

XXVIII.

METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne Which mists and vapors from mine eyes did

shroud, Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed ; But all the steps and ground about were strown With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone Ever put on; a miserable crowd, Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that

cloud, “Thou art our king, O Death! to thee we groan.” Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one Sleeping alone within a mossy cave, With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone; A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!

NOVEMBER, 1836.

II.
EVEN so for me a Vision sanctified
The sway of Death ; long ere mine eyes had seen
Thy countenance,—the still rapture of thy mien, -
When thou, dear Sister! wert become Death's

Bride :
No trace of pain or languor could abide

That change :-- age on thy brow was smoothed,

thy cold, Wan cheek at once was privileged to unfold A loveliness to living youth denied. Oh! if within me hope should e'er decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend ! too faintly burn; Then may that heaven-revealing smile of thine, The bright assurance, visibly return : And let my spirit in thy power divine Rejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity ;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea :
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder - everlastingly,
Dear Child ! dear Girl ! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine :
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year ;
And worshipp’st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.

WHERE lies the Land to which yon Ship must go ?
Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
Festively she puts forth in trim array ;
Is she for tropic suns, or polar snows ?
What boots the inquiry? - Neither friend nor foe
She cares for ; let her travel where she may,
She finds familiar names, a beaten way
Ever before her, and a wind to blow.
Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark ?
And, almost as it was when ships were rare,
(From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there
Crossing the waters,) doubt, and something dark,
Of the old Sea some reverential fear,
Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark !

With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed ;
Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
A goodly Vessel did I then espy
Come like a giant from a haven broad;
And lustily along the bay she strode,
Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
This Ship was naught to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a Lover's look ;
This Ship to all the rest did I prefer :