Sourceless and endless God! compared with Thee, Life is a shadowy momentary dream ;

And time, when view'd through Thy eternity,

Less than the mote of morning's golden beam.

THE SUMMIT OF MOUNT SINAI.

I SEEK the mountain cleft: alone

I seem in this sequester'd place :-
Not so I meet, unseen, yet known,
My Maker, face to face.

My heart perceives his presence nigh,
And hears his voice proclaim,
While bright his glory passes by,
His noblest name.

LOVE is that name-for "God is Love."
Here, where, unbuilt by mortal hands-
Mountains below, and heaven above-
His awful temple stands,

I worship.-Lord, though I am dust
And ashes in thy sight,

Be thou my strength;-in thee I trust,-
Be thou my light.

Hither, of old, the Almighty came:

Clouds were his car, his steeds the wind;

Before him went devouring flame,

And thunder roll'd behind.

At his approach the mountains reel'd,"

Like vessels, to and fro;

Earth, heaving like a sea, reveal'd

The gulfs below.

Borne through the wilderness in wrath,
He seem'd, in power alone, a God:
But blessings follow'd in his path,
For Mercy seized his rod.

He smote the rock, and, as he pass'd,
Forth gush'd a living stream;

The fire, the earthquake, and the blast,
Fled as a dream.

ETERNAL UNION OF FRIENDS.

If high that world, which lies beyond
Our own, surviving Love endears;
If there the cherish'd heart be fond,

The eye the same, except in tears—
How welcome those untrodden spheres!
How sweet this very hour to die!
To soar from earth and find all fears
Lost in thy light-Eternity!

It must be so: 't is not for self

That we so tremble on the brink; And striving to o'erleap the gulf,

Yet cling to Being's severing link. Oh! in that future let us think

To hold each heart the heart that shares, With them the immortal waters drink,

And soul in soul grow deathless theirs.

POWERS OF THE DISEMBODIED SPIRIT.

WHEN coldness wraps this suffering clay,
Ah, whither strays the immortal mind?

It cannot die-it cannot stay,

But leaves its darkened dust behind.
Then, unembodied, doth it trace

By steps each planet's heavenly way
Or fill at once the realms of space,
A thing of eyes, that all survey?

Eternal, boundless, undecayed,

A thought unseen, but seeing all—
All, all in earth or skies display'd,
Shall it survey, shall it recall :
Each fainter trace that memory holds
So darkly of departed years,

In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all, that was, at once appears.

Before Creation peopled earth,

y?

Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
And where the furthest heaven had birth,
The spirit trace its rising track :
And where the future mars or makes,

Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
While sun is quench'd or system breaks,
Fix'd in its own eternity.

Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,

It lives all passionless and pure:

An age shall fleet like earthly year;
Its years as moments shall endure.
Away, away, without a wing,

O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing,

Forgetting what it was to die.

THE GRAVE.

THERE is a calm for those who weep;
A rest for weary pilgrims found:
They softly lie, and sweetly sleep,

Low in the ground.

The storm that wrecks the winter sky,
No more disturbs their deep repose,
Than summer evening's latest sigh,
That shuts the rose.

I long to lay this painful head,
And aching heart, beneath the soil;
To slumber in that dreamless bed

From all my toil.

The grave, that never spake before,
Hath found at length a tongue to chide;
O listen!-I will speak no more :—

Be silent, pride!

Art thou a mourner? hast thou known
The joy of innocent delights,

Endearing days, for ever flown,

And tranquil nights?

O live! and deeply cherish still
The sweet remembrance of the past;
Rely on Heaven's unchanging will
For peace at last.

Though long of winds and waves the sport,
Condemn'd in wretchedness to roam;
Live! thou shalt reach a sheltering port,
A quiet home.

Seek the true treasure, seldom found,
Of power the fiercest griefs to calm,
And soothe the bosom's deepest wound
With heavenly balm.

Whate'er thy lot—where'er thou be—
Confess thy folly-kiss the rod;
And in thy chastening sorrows see
The hand of God.

A bruised reed he will not break,
Afflictions all his children feel;

He wounds them for his mercy's sake,
He wounds to heal!

Humbled beneath his mighty hand,
Prostrate, his providence adore :
'Tis done! arise! He bids thee stand,
To fall no more.

Now, traveller in the vale of tears,
To realms of everlasting light,

Through time's dark wilderness of years,

Pursue thy flight.