Whether on lonely shades the pale sad ray
From a sick chamber fall,

Or amid thousands more beam glad and gay
From mirthful bower or hall,

If pure the joy, and patient be the woe,
Heaven's breath is there, we know :

And surely of yon lamps on high we deem

As of pure worlds, whereon the floods of mercy stream.

Yea, in each keen heart-thrilling glance of theirs

Of other stars we read,

Stars out of sight, souls for whom Love

A portion and a meed

In the supernal Heavens for evermore,

When sun and moon are o'er ;

prepares

Fixed in the deep of grace and song, as these
In the blue skies, and o'er the far-resounding seas.

More and more Stars, here in our outward Heaven,
More and more Saints above !

But to the wistful gaze the sight is given,
The vision to meek love,-

The Starry Heavens.

Love taught of old to treasure and embalm
Whate'er in morning calm

Or evening soft steals from the gracious skies,

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The dry ground freshening with the dews of Paradise.

All humble holy gleams I bid thee seek,

Dim lingering here below;

So shall the Almighty give a tongue to speak,
A heart to read and know

Of Saints at Home, robed and in glory crowned.
Dews on the lowly ground

May as we downward gaze true token yield,

Yea even in glaring morn, of midnight Heaven's pure

field.

Stars to the childish eye may gathered seem
Into strange shapes and wild,

Lion or Eagle, Bear or Harp-such dream
As heathen hearts beguiled :-

Or as a flock untended, roaming wide

Heaven's waste from side to side:

But of a central glory sages sing,

Whence all may be discerned in clear harmonious ring.

Such are Saints' ways-the forms so manifold
Our mystic Mother wears,

O far unlike our dreamings, young and old !—
But Faith still onward fares,

Love-guided, heaven-attracted, till she reach
The orb whence all and each

By golden threads of order and high grace
Are pendant evermore, all beauteous, all in place.

More and more Stars! behold yon hazy arch,
Spanning the vault on high,

By planets traversed in majestic march,

Seeming to earth's dull eye

A breath of gleaming air: but take thou wing
Of Faith, and upward spring :-

Into a thousand stars the misty light

Will part; each star a world with its own day and night.

Not otherwise of yonder Saintly host

Upon the glorious shore

Deem thou. He marks them all; not one is lost;
By name He counts them o'er.

The Starry Heavens.

Full many a soul, to man's dim praise unknown,

May on its glory-throne

As brightly shine, and prove as strong in prayer,

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As theirs, whose separate beams shoot keenest through this air.

My child, even now I see thy tender breath
Full quickly come and go

At sound of praise. O may the touch of Faith
Those chords so fine and low

Early controul and tune thy heart too high

For aught beneath the sky.

So may that little spark of glory swell

To a full orb, and soar with loftiest Saints to dwell.

"Abide you here with the ass, and I and the lad will go yonder and worship."

DREAD was the mystery on Moriah's hill :

Low on the ridge the cloud of morning lay : From each dark fold, along each gliding rill, Strange whispers from the mountain met our way.

But we must wait below, and upward gaze,

While toward the mount the father and the son Pursue their course, soon in that awful haze

To vanish, till the appointed deed be done.

So when the Lord for some parental heart
Prepares a martyr's crown, He calls on high
Father and child, in His still shrine apart

To learn His lore of healing agony.