To the Evening Wind.-BRYANT.
SPIRIT, that breathest through my lattice, thou That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day, Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow; Thou hast been out upon the deep at play, Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!
Nor I alone-a thousand bosoms round Inhale thee in the fulness of delight; And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound Livelier, at coming of the wind of night; And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound, Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight. Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth, God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth!
Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,
Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest,
Summoning from the innumerable boughs The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast; Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass, And 'twixt the o'ershadowing branches and the grass.
The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And dry the moistened curls that overspread
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep; And they, who stand about the sick man's bed, Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweep,
And softly part his curtains to allow Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow.
he circle of eternal change, the life of nature, shall restore,
ds and scents from all thy mighty range, thy birth-place of the deep once more; rs in the sea-air, sweet and strange, ll the home-sick mariner of the shore; ning to thy murmur, he shall deem the rustling leaf and running stream.
To the Ursa Major.-H. WARE, JR.
what a stately and majestic step ious constellation of the north s eternal circle! going forth ly way amongst the stars in slow at brightness. Mighty one, all hail! ee thee, on thy glowing path,
e some stout and girded giant-stern, ed, resolute, whose toiling foot to loiter on its destined way.
er tribes forsake their midnight track, their weary orbs beneath the wave; dost never close thy burning eye, thy steadfast step. But on, still on, stems change, and suns retire, and worlds and wake, thy ceaseless march proceeds. r horizon tempts to rest in vain. ithful sentinel, dost never quit
g-appointed watch; but, sleepless still, ard the fixed light of the universe, the north forever know its place.
have witnessed thy devoted trust,
ged, unchanging. When the sons of God Eh that shout of joy which rang through heaven,
And echoed from the outer spheres that bound The illimitable universe, thy voice
Joined the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs The glad cry sounded, swelling to His praise, Who thus had cast another sparkling gem, Little, but beautiful, amid the crowd
Of splendors that enrich his firmament.
As thou art now, so wast thou then the same.
Ages have rolled their course, and time grown gray; The earth has gathered to her womb again, And yet again, the myriads, that were born Of her, uncounted, unremembered tribes.
The seas have changed their beds; the eternal hills Have stooped with age; the solid continents
Have left their banks; and man's imperial works— The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, which had flung 'Their haughty honors in the face of heaven, As if immortal-have been swept away- Shattered and mouldering, buried and forgot. But time has shed no dimness on thy front,
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread; youth, strength And beauty still are thine-as clear, as bright, As when the almighty Former sent thee forth, Beautiful offspring of his curious skill,
To watch earth's northern beacon, and proclaim The eternal chorus of eternal Love.
I wonder as I gaze. That stream of light, Undimmed, unquenched,-just as I see it now,Has issued from those dazzling points, through years That go back far into eternity.
Exhaustless flood! forever spent, renewed Forever! Yea, and those refulgent drops, Which now descend upon my lifted eye, Left their far fountain twice three years ago. While those winged particles, whose speed outstrips The flight of thought, were on their way, the earth Compassed its tedious circuit round and round, And, in the extremes of annual change, beheld
as fade, six springs renew their bloom. earth those mighty orbs revolve !
void through which their beams descend!
rious lamps of God, He may have quenched ent flames, and bid eternal night
ur spheres; and yet no tidings reach nt planet. Messengers still come h your far fire, and we may seem ar lights still burning; while their blaze the black wreck of extinguished realms, archy and darkness long have reigned.
at is this, which to the astonished mind asureless, and which the baffled thought s? A span, a point, in those domains e keen eye can traverse. Seven stars hat brilliant cluster, and the sight all at once; yet each from each s far as each of them from earth. - star from every other burns
mote. From the profound of heaven, d even in thought, keen, piercing rays ugh the void, revealing to the sense nd worlds unnumbered. Take the glass ch the skies. The opening skies pour down r gaze thick showers of sparkling fire- wded, thronged, in regions so remote, r swift beams-the swiftest things that be- elled centuries on their flight to earth. , and nearer constellations, what
mid this infinite extent
itude of God's most infinite works!
ese are suns!-vast, central, living fires, dependent systems, kings of worlds t as satellites upon their power,
ish in their smile. Awake, my soul, itate the wonder! Countless suns
nd thee, leading forth their countless worlds!
Worlds, in whose bosoms living things rejoice, And drink the bliss of being from the fount Of all-pervading Love. What mind can know, What tongue can utter, all their multitudes! hus numberless in numberless abodes!
Known but to thee, blessed Father! Thine they are, Thy children and thy care; and none o'erlooked Of thee!-no, not the humblest soul that dwells Upon the humblest globe, which wheels its course Amid the giant glories of the sky,
Like the mean mote that dances in the beam Amongst the mirrored lamps, which fling Their wasteful splendor from the palace wall. None, none escape the kindness of thy care; All compassed underneath thy spacious wing, Each fed and guided by thy powerful hand.
Tell me, ye splendid orbs, as, from your throne, Ye mark the rolling provinces that own
Your sway-what beings fill those bright abodes? How formed, how gifted? what their powers, their state, Their happiness, their wisdom? Do they bear The stamp of human nature? Or has God Peopled those purer realms with lovelier forms And more celestial minds? Does Innocence Still wear her native and untainted bloom? Or has Sin breathed his deadly blight abroad, And sowed corruption in those fairy bowers? Has War trod o'er them with his foot of fire? And Slavery forged his chains? and Wrath and Hate, And sordid Selfishness, and cruel Lust,
Leagued their base bands to tread out light and truth, And scattered wo where Heaven had planted joy? Or are they yet all paradise, unfallen And uncorrupt? existence one long joy, Without disease upon the frame, or sin Upon the heart, or weariness of life- Hope never quenched, and age unknown,
And death unfeared; while fresh and fadeless youth Glows in the light from God's near throne of love?
« PreviousContinue » |