As with a wedge! But when I look again, O dread and silent mount! I gazed upon thee, Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy : As in her natural form, swelled vast to heaven! Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the vale! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink: Companion of the Morning-star at dawn. Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn : Co-herald wake, O wake, and utter praise! And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad! Who called you forth from night and utter death, From dark and icy caverns called you forth, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, For ever shattered, and the same for ever? Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, And who commanded (and the silence came), Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen, full-moon? Clothe you with rainbows? flowers Who bade the sun Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? Yepine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest! Ye eagles, play-mates of the mountain storm! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds; Ye signs and wonders of the element ! Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praise! Thou too, hoar mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast- Slow travelling, with dim eyes suffused with tears, To rise before me.-Rise, O ever rise, Rise like a cloud of incense from the earth! Heaven Watches o'er their Sleeping Bust. WHEN he, who, from the scourge of wrong, Saw the fair region, promised long, God made his grave, to man unknown, And laid the aged seer alone To slumber while the world grows old. Thus still, whene'er the good and just Though nameless, trampled, and forgot, Yet God has marked and sealed the spot, W. C. BRYANT. Happiness! where is thy Seat? APPINESS! thou lovely name, HA Where's thy seat? O tell me where! Not the wisdom of the wise, Object of my first desire, Jesus! crucified for me, All to happiness aspire, Thee to see, and Thee to love, Constitute our bliss above. Lord! it is not life to live, Whilst I feel Thy love to me, Real bliss I then shall prove, Heaven below, and heaven above. TOPLADY. Having Nothing, yet hath All. HOW OW happy is he born and taught, That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are, |