Unless Thou show to us thine own true way
No man can find it; Father! Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my
mind

By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of thee,
And sound thy praises everlastingly.

XXVII.

SURPRISED by joy, impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport-oh! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind,
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,

Have I been so beguiled as to be blind

To my most grievous loss!— That thought's re

turn

Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn,
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

Mataiteet I saw the footsteps of a throne With miss and vapors from mine eyes did szol

Na view of who might sit thereon allowed;

But all the steps and ground about were strown With sights the reefallest that flesh and bone Ever put on a miserable crowd,

Sick, bale, cid, young, who cried before that

-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!

XXIX.

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.

XXX.

Ir 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.

I.

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

"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!

XXIX.

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.

XXX.

Ir 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.