Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved ones, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;
young and strong, who cherish'd Noble longings for the strife,— By the road-side fell and perish'd, Weary with the march of life!
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,—
Folded their pale hands so meekly,-
Spake with us on earth no more!
And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noiseless footstep,
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
And she sits and gazes
at me,
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saintlike,
Looking downward from the skies.
Utter'd not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
O, though oft depress'd and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
Fair Sun of Righteousness!
O BLEST Redeemer! from thy sacred throne,
Where saints and angels sing thy triumphs
From that exalted height of bliss supreme,
Look down on those who bear thy sacred name:
Restore their ways, inspire them, by thy grace,
Thy laws to follow, and thy steps to trace.
Thy bright example to thy doctrine join,
And, by their morals, prove their faith divine.
Nor only to thy church confine thy ray;
O'er the glad world thy healing light display.
Fair SUN of righteousness! in beauty rise,
And clear the mists that cloud the mental skies;
To Judah's remnant, now a scatter'd train,
O great Messiah! show thy promis'd reign;
O'er earth as wide thy saving warmth diffuse
As spreads the ambient air, or falling dews;
And haste the time when, vanquish'd by thy
Death shall expire, and sin defile no more.
Forgive, while I presume to Praise!
LIFE of the world! immortal Mind!
Father of all the human kind!
Whose boundless eye, that knows no rest,
Intent on nature's ample breast,
Explores the space of earth and skies,
And sees eternal incense rise,
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise!
Though thou this transient being gave,
That shortly sinks into the grave,
Yet 'twas thy goodness still to give
A being that can think and live;
In all thy works thy wisdom see,
And stretch its towering mind to Thee.
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise !
And still this poor, contracted span,
This life, that bears the name of Man,
From thee derives its vital ray,
Eternal Source of life and day!
Thy bounty still the sunshine pours,
That gilds its morn and evening hours:
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise!
Thro' error's maze, through folly's night,
The lamp of reason lends me light.
When stern affliction waves her rod,
My heart confides in thee, my
When nature shrinks, oppress'd with woes,
E'en then she finds in thee repose.
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise!
Affliction flies, and hope returns ;
The lamp with brighter splendour burns;
Gay Love, with all his smiling train,
And Peace and Joy are here again.
These, these, I know, 'twas thine to give ;
I trusted, and, behold, I live;
To Thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise !
Oh, may I still thy favour prove!
Still grant me gratitude and love;
Let truth and virtue guide my heart,
Nor peace, nor hope, nor joy depart:
But yet, whate'er my life may be,
My heart shall still repose on thee.
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise !
Fair is the Star of Eve.
BRIGHT with the golden shine of heaven plays
On tender blades the dew;
And the spring-landscape's trembling likeness
Clear in the streamlet's blue.
Fair is the rocky fount, the blossomed hedge,
Groves stained with golden light;
Fair is the star of eve, that on the edge
Of purple clouds shines bright.
Fair is the meadow's green,-the valley's copse,—
The hillock's dress of flowers,——
The alder-brook,-the reed-encircled pond,
O'er-snowed with blossom-showers.
This manifold world of life is held in one
By Love's eternal band:
The glowworm and the fire-sea of the sun
Sprang from one Father's hand.
Thou beckonest, Almighty! from the tree
The blossom's leaf doth fall;—
Thou beckonest,-and in immensity
Is quenched a solar ball!
FRIEDRIC VON MATTHISSON, Trans. Anon.
Flowers of the Earth and the Stars of Heaven.
SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine;—
Stars they are, wherein we read our history,
As astrologers and seers of eld;
Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery,
Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
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