ページの画像
PDF
ePub

The sun in glory walks the sky,

White fleecy clouds are floating round, Whose shapes along the landscape fly,

Here, chequering o'er the ground; There, down the glens, the shadows sweep,

With changing lights between; Yonder they climb the uplands steep,

Shifting the scene.

Above, beneath, immensely spread,

Valleys and hoary rocks I view,
Heights over heights exalt their head,

Of many a sombre hue;
No waving woods their flanks adom,

No hedgerows, gay with trees,
Encircle fields, where floods of corn

Roll to the breeze.

My soul this vast horizon fills,

Within whose undulated line
Thick stand the multitude of hills,

And clear the waters shine;
Gray mossy walls the slope ascend;

While roads, that tire the eye,
Upward their winding course extend,

And touch the sky.

With rude diversity of form,

The insulated mountains tower:
Oft o'er these cliffs the transient storm

And partial darkness lower,
While yonder summits far away

Shine sweetly through the gloom, Like glimpses of eternal day

Beyond the tomb.

Hither, of old, the ALMIGHTY came;

Clouds were His car, His steeds the wind; Before Him went devouring flame,

And thunder rolled behind ;
At His approach the mountains reeled

Like vessels to and fro;
Earth, heaving like a sea, revealed
The gulfs below.

Borne through the wilderness in wrath,

He seemed in power alone a GOD;
But blessings followed in His path,

For Mercy seized His rod;
She smote the rock,--and as He passed

Forth gushed a living stream ;
The fire, the earthquake, and the blast

Fled as a dream.
Behold the everlasting hills,

In that convulsion scattered round:
Hark! from their caves the issuing rills

With sweetest music sound;
Ye lame and impotent! draw near ;

With healing on her wing,
The cherub Mercy watches here

Her ancient spring.

TO ANN AND JANE.

VERSES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF IN THE SMALL VOLUMK

OF “ HYMNS FOR INFANT MINDS."

WHEN the shades of night retire
From the morn's advancing beams,
Ere the hills are tipt with fire,
And the radiance lights the streams,
Lo, the lark begins her song,
Early on the wing, and long.
Summoned by the signal notes,
Soon her sisters quit the lawn,
With their wildly warbling throats,
Soaring in the dappled dawn;
Brighter, warmer spread the rays,
Louder, sweeter swell their lays.
Nestlings, in their grassy beds,
Hearkening to the joyful sound,
Heavenward point their little heads,
Lowly twittering from the ground,
Ere their wings are fledged to fly
To the chorus in the sky.

Thus, fair minstrels, while ye sing,
Teaching infant minds to raise
To the universal King
Humble hymns of prayer and praise,
Oh, may all who hear your voice
Look, and listen, and rejoice!

Faltering like the sky-lark's young,
While your numbers they record,
Soon may every heart and tongue
Learn to magnify the LORD;
And your strains divinely sweet,
Unborn millions thus repeat.

Minstrels! what reward is due
For this labour of your love ?
Through eternity may you,
In the Paradise above,
Round the dear Redeemer's feet,
All your infant readers meet !

OCCASIONAL ODE

FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE ROYAL BRITISH SYSTEM OF

EDUCATION,

Held at Freemasons Hall, May 16, 1812.
THE lion, o'er his wild domains,
Rules with the terror of his eye;
The eagle of the rock maintains
By force his empire in the sky;
The shark, the tyrant of the flood,
Reigns through the deep with quenchless rage ;
Parent and young, unweaned from blood,
Are still the same from age to age.

Of all that live, and move, and breathe,
Man only rises o'er his birth ;
He looks above, around, beneath,
At once the heir of heaven and earth :

Force, cunning, speed, which Nature gave
The various tribes throughout her plan,
Life to enjoy, from death to save,
These are the lowest powers of Man.

From strength to strength he travels on;
He leaves the lingering brute behind,
And when a few short years are gone,
He soars, a disembodied mind :
Beyond the grave, his course sublime
Destined through nobler paths to run,
In his career the end of Time
Is but Eternity begun,

What guides him in his high pursuit,
Opens, illumines, cheers his way,
Discerns the Immortal from the Brute,
God's Image from the mould of clay?
'Tis Knowledge :-Knowledge to the soul
Is power, and liberty, and peace ;
And while celestial ages roll,
The joys of Knowledge shall increase.
Hail! to the glorious plan, that spread
The light with universal beams,
And through the human desert led
Truth's living, pure, perpetual streams.
Behold a new creation rise,
New spirit breathed into the clod,
Where'er the voice of Wisdom cries,
“Man, know thyself, and fear thy GOD."

A DAUGHTER TO HER MOTHER,

ON HER BIRTHDAY, NOV. 25, 1811.
This the day to me most dear
In the changes of the year;
Spring, the fields and woods adorning,
Spring may boast a gayer morning ;
Summer noon with brighter beams
Gild the mountains and the streams;

Autumn, through the twilight vale,
Breathe a more delicious gale :
Yet though stern November reigns,
Wild and wintry o'er the plains,
Never does the morning rise
Half so welcome to mine eyes ;
Noontide glories never shed
Rays so beauteous round my head;
Never looks the evening scene
So enchantingly serene,
As on this returning day,
When, in spirit rapt away,
Joys and sorrows I have known,
In the years for ever flown,
Wake, at every sound and sight,
Reminiscence of delight,
All around me, all above,
Witnessing a Mother's love.

Love, that watched my early years
With conflicting hopes and fears ;
Love, that through life's flowery May
Led my childhood, prone to stray ;
Love, that still directs my youth
With the constancy of truth,
Heightens every bliss it shares,
Softens and divides the cares,
Smiles away my light distress,
Weeps for joy or tenderness :
May that love, to latest age,
Cheer my earthly pilgrimage ;
May that love, o'er death victorious,
Rise beyond the grave more glorious ;
Souls, united here, would be
One to all eternity.

When these eyes, from native night, First unfolded to the light, On what object, fair and new, Did they fix their fondest view ? On my Mother's smiling mien ; All the Mother there was seen. When their weary lids would close, And she sung me to repose, Found I not the sweetest rest On my Mother's peaceful breast? When my tongue from hers had caught Sounds to utter infant thought,

« 前へ次へ »