On the clear brow of Immortality,

Calm, yet profound. Soft rays illume that mien,
Th' unshadow'd moonlight of some far-off sky
Around it floats transparently serene

As a pure veil of waters. O rich sleep!
Thou hast strong spirits in thy regions deep,
Which glorify with reconciling breath,
Effacing, brightening, giving forth to shine
Beauty's high truth, and how much more divine
Thy power when link'd in this, with thy stern bro-
ther-Death!

X.-THE POETRY OF THE PSALMS.

NOBLY thy song, O minstrel! rush'd to meet
Th' Eternal on the pathway of the blast,
With darkness round him, as a mantle, cast,
And cherubim to waft his flying seat;
Amidst the hills that smoked beneath his feet,
With trumpet-voice thy spirit call'd aloud,
And bade the trembling rocks his name repeat,
And the bent cedars, and the bursting cloud.
But far more gloriously to earth made known
By that high strain than by the thunder's tone,
The flashing torrents, or the ocean's roll,
Jehovah spake, through the inbreathing fire,
Nature's vast realms for ever to inspire
With the deep worship of a living soul.

DESPONDENCY AND ASPIRATION.1

"Per correr miglior acqua alza le vele,

Omai la navicella del mio Intelletto."

DANTE.

My soul was mantled with dark shadows, born
Of lonely Fear, disquieted in vain;

Its phantoms hung around the star of morn,
A cloud-like weeping train;

Through the long day they dimm'd the autumn gold
On all the glistening leaves; and wildly roll'd,
When the last farewell flush of light was glowing
Across the sunset sky;

O'er its rich isles of vaporous glory throwing
One melancholy dye.

And when the solemn Night
Came rushing with her might

Of stormy oracles from caves unknown,
Then with each fitful blast

Prophetic murmurs pass'd,

Wakening or answering some deep Sibyl tone, Far buried in my breast, yet prompt to rise With every gusty wail that o'er the wind-harp flies.

1

1 Partly composed during the Author's last illness.

"Fold, fold thy wings," they cried, "and strive no

more,

Faint spirit, strive no more!-for thee too strong Are outward ill and wrong,

And inward wasting fires!-Thou canst not soar Free on a starry way

Beyond their blighting sway,

At Heaven's high gate serenely to adore!

How shouldst thou hope Earth's fetters to unbind? O passionate, yet weak! O trembler to the wind!

"Never shall aught but broken music flow
From joy of thine, deep love, or tearful woe;
Such homeless notes as through the forest sigh,
From the reeds hollow shaken,
When sudden breezes waken

Their vague wild symphony:

No power is theirs, and no abiding-place

In human hearts; their sweetness leaves no trace— Born only so to die!

"Never shall aught but perfume, faint and vain, On the fleet pinion of the changeful hour, From thy bruised life again

A moment's essence breathe;
Thy life, whose trampled flower
Into the blessed wreath

Of household charities no longer bound,
Lies pale and withering on the barren ground.

"So fade, fade on! thy gift of love shall cling, A coiling sadness, round thy heart and brain,

A silent, fruitless, yet undying thing,

All sensitive to pain!

And still the shadow of vain dreams shall fall O'er thy mind's world, a daily darkening pall. Fold, then, thy wounded wing, and sink subdued, In cold and unrepining quietude!"

Then my soul yielded; spells of numbing breath
Crept o'er it heavy with a dew of death,
Its powers, like leaves before the night rain, closing;
And, as by conflict of wild sea-waves toss'd
On the chill bosom of some desert coast,
Mutely and hopelessly I lay reposing.

When silently it seem'd

As if a soft mist gleam'd

Before my passive sight, and, slowly curling,
To many a shape and hue

Of vision'd beauty grew,

Like a wrought banner, fold by fold unfurling.
Oh! the rich scenes that o'er mine inward eye

Unrolling then swept by,

With dreamy motion! Silvery seas were there
Lit by large dazzling stars, and arch'd by skies
Of southern midnight's most transparent dyes,
And gemm'd with many an island, wildly fair,
Which floated past me into orient day,
Still gathering lustre on th' illumin'd way,
Till its high groves of wondrous flowering trees
Colour'd the silvery seas.

And then a glorious mountain-chain uprose,
Height above spiry height!

A soaring solitude of woods and snows,
All steep'd in golden light!

While as it pass'd, those regal peaks unveiling,
I heard, methought, a waving of dread wings
And mighty sounds, as if the vision hailing,

From lyres that quiver'd through ten thousand strings:

Or as if waters forth to music leaping,

From many a cave, the Alpine Echo's hall, On their bold way victoriously were sweeping, Link'd in majestic anthems! while through all That billowy swell and fall,

Voices, like ringing crystal, fill'd the air
With inarticulate melody, that stirr'd

My being's core; then, moulding into word
Their piercing sweetness, bade me rise and bear
In that great choral strain my trembling part
Of tones, by love and faith struck from a human
heart.

Return no more, vain bodings of the night!

A happier oracle within my soul

Hath swell'd to power;-a clear unwavering light Mounts through the battling clouds that round me roll,

And to a new control

Nature's full harp gives forth rejoicing tones,
Wherein my glad sense owns

The accordant rush of elemental sound

To one consummate harmony profound;