Or gambol, each with his shadow at his side,
Varying its shape wherever he may run.
As they from turf yet hoar with sleepy dew
All turn, and court the shining and the green,
Where herbs look up, and opening flowers are seen;
Why to God's goodness cannot We be true,
And so, His gifts and promises between,
Feed to the last on pleasures ever new?

XXXI.

Lo! where she stands fixed in a saint-like trance,

One upward hand, as if she needed rest
From rapture, lying softly on her breast!

Nor wants her eyeball an ethereal glance;

But not the less-nay, more - that countenance,

While thus illumined, tells of painful strife
For a sick heart made weary of this life
By love, long crossed with adverse circumstance.
Would she were now as when she hoped to pass
At God's appointed hour to them who tread
Heaven's sapphire pavement, yet breathed well

Lived thankful for day's light, for daily bread,

For health, and time in obvious duty spent.

XXXII.

TO A PAINTER.

ALL praise the Likeness by thy skill portrayed;
But 't is a fruitless task to paint for me,
Who, yielding not to changes Time has made,
By the habitual light of memory see

Eyes unbedimmed, see bloom that cannot fade, And smiles that from their birthplace ne'er shall flee

Into the land where ghosts and phantoms be;
And, seeing this, own nothing in its stead.
Couldst thou go back into far-distant years,
Or share with me, fond thought! that inward eye,
Then, and then only, Painter! could thy Art
The visual powers of Nature satisfy,

Which hold, whate'er to common sight appears,
Their sovereign empire in a faithful heart.

XXXIII.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

THOUGH I beheld at first with blank surprise
This Work, I now have gazed on it so long
I see its truth with unreluctant eyes;
O my Beloved! I have done thee wrong,
Conscious of blessedness, but whence it
Ever too heedless, as I now perceive :

sprung

XXXV.

'Tis He whose yester-evening's high disdain Beat back the roaring storm, - but how subdued His day-break note, a sad vicissitude!

Does the hour's drowsy weight his glee restrain?
Or, like the nightingale, her joyous vein
Pleased to renounce, does this dear Thrush attune
His voice to suit the temper of yon Moon
Doubly depressed, setting, and in her wane?
Rise, tardy Sun! and let the songster prove
(The balance trembling between night and morn
No longer) with what ecstasy upborne

He can pour forth his spirit. In heaven above,
And earth below, they best can serve true gladness
Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.

XXXVI.

O WHAT a Wreck! how changed in mien and

speech!

Yet though dread Powers, that work in mystery, spin

Entanglings of the brain, though shadows stretch

O'er the chilled heart — reflect; far, far within

Hers is a holy Being, freed from Sin.

She is not what she seems, a forlorn wretch,

But delegated Spirits comfort fetch

To her from heights that Reason may not win.

Like Children, she is privileged to hold

communior: boù u Eve and move, Vist er u shallow Farth their ways unfold, by kummed by Beaver's pitying love; Low niing mnocence no long to last, h then her our sins and sorrows past.

t of gathering wool from hedge and brake, Ta mist Little-ones rejoice that soon

I noc vic Dame wil hiess them for the boon:
Spear & ther gier while fike they add to flake,
V:
earnestness; for other strife
Thu vil hereafter move them, if they make
Fastme der da gre their day of life

peasut suuched for reckless pleasure's sake. Car ponu and show ally one heart-born grief? Pams vari the Warid infics can she requite? Na ir a mess however brief:

The siem zhanghas that search for steadfast light, Love mam ber degchs, and Dery in her might, And Faith-these only yield secure relief.

A PLEA FIE AUTHORS, MAT, 1858.

FAILING impartial measure to dispense
To every suitor. Equity is lame;
And social Vastice, stripped of reverence