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WAS late-the sun had almost shone His last and best, when I ran on, Anxious to reach that splendid view, Before the day-beams quite withdrew ; And feeling as all feel, on first

Approaching scenes where, they are told, Such glories on their eyes will burst, As youthful bards in dreams behold.

'Twas distant yet, and, as I ran,

Full often was my wistful gaze

Turn'd to the sun, who now began

To call in all his out-post rays,
And form a denser march of light,
Such as beseems a hero's flight.
Oh, how I wish'd for JOSHUA's power,
To stay the brightness of that hour!
But no-the sun still less became,

Diminish'd to a speck, as splendid
And small as were those tongues of flame,
That on the' Apostles' heads descended!

'Twas at this instant-while there glow'd
This last, intensest gleam of light-
Suddenly, through the opening road,
The valley burst upon my sight!
That glorious valley, with its Lake,
And Alps on Alps in clusters swelling,
Mighty, and pure, and fit to make

The ramparts of a Godhead's dwelling.

I stood entranced-as Rabbins say
This whole assembled, gazing world
Will stand, upon that awful day,

When the Ark's Light, aloft unfurl'd,
Among the opening clouds shall shine,
Divinity's own radiant sign!

Mighty MONT BLANC, thou wert to me,
That minute, with thy brow in heaven,

As sure a sign of Deity

As e'er to mortal gaze was given.

Nor ever, were I destined yet

To live my life twice o'er again,

Can I the deep-felt awe forget,

The dream, the trance that rapt me then!

"Twas all that consciousness of pow'r
And life, beyond this mortal hour;
Those mountings of the soul within
At thoughts of Heav'n-as birds begin
By instinct in the cage to rise,

When near their time for change of skies;—

That proud assurance of our claim

To rank among the Sons of Light, Mingled with shame-oh bitter shame!

At having risk'd that splendid right, For aught that earth through all its range Of glories, offers in exchange!

'Twas all this, at that instant brought, Like breaking sunshine, o'er my thought'Twas all this, kindled to a glow

Of sacred zeal, which, could it shine
Thus purely ever, man might grow
Ev'n upon earth a thing divine,
And be, once more, the creature made
To walk unstain'd the' Elysian shade!

No, never shall I lose the trace

Of what I've felt in this bright place.
And, should my spirit's hope grow weak,
Should I, O God, e'er doubt thy pow'r,

This mighty scene again I'll seek,

At the same calm and glowing hour,

And here, at the sublimest shrine

That Nature ever rear'd to Thee, Rekindle all that hope divine,

And feel my immortality!



sine me sit nulla Venus.-SULPICIA.

UR hearts, my love, were form'd to be
The genuine twins of Sympathy,
They live with one sensation :
In joy or grief, but most in love,
Like chords in unison they move,
And thrill with like vibration.

How oft I've heard thee fondly say,
Thy vital pulse shall cease to play
When mine no more is moving;

Since now, to feel a joy alone
Were worse to thee than feeling none,
So twinn'd are we in loving!



you not seen the timid tear Steal trembling from mine eye?

Have you not mark'd the flush of fear,

Or caught the murmur'd sigh?

And can you

think love is chill, my

Nor fix'd on you alone?

And can you rend, by doubting still, A heart so much your own?

To you my soul's affections move,
Devoutly, warmly true;

My life has been a task of love,
One long, long thought of you.
If all your tender faith be o'er,
If still my truth you'll try ;
Alas, I know but one proof more-
I'll bless your name, and die!

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