"I WILL ABIDE IN THINE HOUSE." AMONG SO many, can He care? Over; but in? The world is full; So many, and so wide abroad: We watched it glide from the silver sands, | A scar, brought from some well-won field, And all our sunshine grew strangely Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. dark. All sights were mellowed and all sounds subdued, 279 And where the oriole hung her swaying nest, By every light wind like a censer Where sang the noisy masons of the eaves, Where every bird which charmed the Shook the sweet slumber from its wings at morn, To warn the reaper of the rosy east, All now was songless, empty, and forlorn. Alone from out the stubble piped the quail, And croaked the crow through all the dreamy gloom; The hills seemed farther and the streams Alone the pheasant, drumming in the vale, sang low; As in a dream the distant woodman hewed His winter log with many a muffled blow. The embattled forests, erewhile armed in gold, Their banners bright with every martial hue, Now stood, like some sad beaten host of old, Withdrawn afar in Time's remotest blue. On slumb'rous wings the vulture held his flight; The dove scarce heard its sighing mate's complaint; And like a star slow drowning in the light, The village church-vane seemed to pale and faint. The sentinel-cock upon the hillside crew, Silent till some replying warder blew more. Where erst the jay, within the elm's tall crest, Made garrulous trouble round her unfledged young, |