“He shall give His Angels charge concerning thee.”

“ TELL me now thy morning dream.”

“In the flowery sweet spring-tide I beheld a sparkling stream,

Where by thousands Angels glide ;
Each beneath the soft bright wing
Seem'd a tender babe to bring,
Where the freshest waters fell
In an ever-living well.

Far within the unearthly Fount

Showed the pure Heaven's steadfast rays, Stars beyond what eye can count

Deepening on the unwearied gaze.
Whoso of those springs would draw,
Wondrous joy and wondrous awe
On his soul together rise,
Starlight keen and dark blue skies.

Round the margin breath'd and bloom'd

Flowers from Eden : far below Gems from Heaven the sides illum'd :

But nor flower nor gem might show Half so fair as your soft charms, Who in your own Seraphs' arms Here are wafted, in pure vest Rob'd, and wash'd, and seal'd, and bless'd.

There one moment lay immers'd

Each bright form, and ere it rose,
Rose regenerate, Light would burst

From where golden morning glows,
With a sudden, silent thrill,
Over that mysterious rill.
Ne'er so bright, so gentle, sweep
Lightnings o'er the summer deep.

In a moment came that ray,

Came but went not: every sprite, Through its veil of mortal clay,

Now is drench'd in quickening light ;

Light wherewith the Seraphs burn,
Light that to itself would turn
Whatsoe'er of earth and shame
Mars even now the new-born frame.

Through the pure Heavens now at large

See the immortal guardians soar, Joying to behold their charge

Purg'd, wing’d, brighten’d more and more, As the strong undying spark Buoys them upward to God's Ark, To the Throne where all repair With the first fruits of their care.

Ne’er with smile so glad and kind

Welcom'd God's High Priest of old
Abraham's seed with Abraham's mind

Offering gifts from field and fold,
Lamb or kid, or first-ripe corn,
Glory of the Paschal morn ;-
When the shades from Salem's wall
On Siloah deepest fall ;-

As in that entrancing dream,

On my sleep-embolden'd eyes, From the shrine, the approving beam

Thrill’d, as each new sacrifice, Each new living ray, each soul Borne beyond where shadows roll, With its faithful Watcher, found Place in the eternal round.”

O sweet morning dream, I pray,

Pass not with the matin hour ; Charm me :-heart and tongue allay,

Thoughts that ache and eyes that lower. From the Fountain to the Shrine Bear me on, thou trance divine ; Faint not, fade not on my view, Till I wake and find thee true.



“That which ye have already, hold fast till I come.'

O HAPPY new-born babe, where art thou lying ?

What are these sounds that fill with healing balm The hallow'd air, of power to still thy crying

At once, and nurse thee into heavenly calm ?

His Bosom bears me, who on earth descended,

Of a poor Maid vouchsafing to be born. His saving words, with holy water blended,

Have brought the glory to my prime of morn."

Joy to thy nurse, more joy to her who bare thee,

Lamb of that Shepherd's flock, whose name is Good : As He hath won, for ever may He wear thee,

And keep thee purified with His dear blood !

" Amen : and therefore am I sworn His servant,

His sacred Heart through life to be my rest, To watch His eye with adoration fervent,

Foe of His foes, and in His white robe drest."

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