Who but would fain compress
A life into a day,
The last day spent with one
Who, ere the morrow's sun,
Must leave us, and for aye?
O precious, precious moments!
Pale flowers! ye 're types of those;
The saddest, sweetest, dearest,
Because, like those, the nearest
To an eternal close.
Pale flowers! pale perishing flowers!
I woo your gentle breath-
I leave the Summer rose
For younger, blither brows;
Tell me of change and death.
THUNDER-STORM.
SUDDEN, on the dazzling sight,
Darts the keen electric light ;
Shooting from the lurid sky,
Quick as thought it mocks the eye:
Rolling thunder rends the ear,
Seems to shake earth's solid sphere;
Hill and dale prolong the sound,
Echoes deep each cavern round;
Till afar, in distant skies,
Fainter still, it fades and dies.
-Hush'd the peal-a pause succeeds-
Again the forky lightning speeds;
Bursting from the black cloud's womb,
Blazing o'er the deepening gloom.
Shatter'd by the arrowy flash,
At my feet, with groaning crash,
Falls the forest's branching pride,
All its honours scatter'd wide!
Louder peals and louder still,
Shake the vale, and rock the hill;
Mountains tremble, green woods nod;
Nature hears and owns her GOD!
-Soon the rushing shower descends,
The dark cloud melts, the tempest ends;
Bright again, the lord of day
Sheds abroad his cheering ray;
Creation smiles, and joy and love
Enliven mountain, glen, and grove ;
Reviving blossoms pour their rich perfume
And Nature glows in renovated bloom.
"I do set my bow in the cloud."-Gen. ix. 13.
SEE how yon arch the Heavens o'erspan,
Fashion'd by Him who gave the sign,
The token of good-will to man,
The sacred pledge of peace divine.
To paint its hues we vainly try,
No counterpart on earth is found,
Is it not Heaven's relenting eye
Cast on a world of sinners drown'd?
(More dense the cloud, more wild the storm,
See it in nobler grandeur rise,
Transcendent beauty in its form,
And lustre of its varied dyes.)
It tells us that His wrath endures,
But as the twinkling of an eye;
And covenant mercy still ensures,
Vast as the source of its supply.
Waters no more the earth immure,*
Though man is evil from his youth;
The faithful witness + stands secure,
The record of the God of truth.
It ever shall surround the throne,
The glorious throne of the Most High,
Its brightest radiance soften'd down,
While the redeem'd of men draw nigh.
* Gen. ix. 15.
† Psa. lxxxix.
The waters shall no more become a flood.
As a faithful witness in heaven.
Rev. iv. 3. There was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald.
YE viewless minstrels of the sky!
I marvel not in times gone by
That ye were deified:
For, even in this later day,
To me oft has your power, or play,
Unearthly thoughts supplied.
Awful your power! when by your might
You heave the wild waves, crested white,
Like mountains in your wrath;
Ploughing between them valleys deep,
Which, to the seamen roused from sleep,
Yawn like Death's opening path!
Graceful your play! when round the bower
Where beauty culls Spring's loveliest flower,
To wreathe her dark locks there,
Your gentlest whispers lightly breathe
The leaves between, flit round the wreath,
And stir her silken hair.
Still, thoughts like these are but of earth,
And you can give far loftier birth :-
Ye come!-we know not whence!
Ye go!-can mortals trace your flight?
All imperceptible to sight,
Though audible to sense.
The Sun, his rise and set we know;
The Sea,-we mark its ebb and flow;
The Moon,-her wax and wane:
The Stars,-man knows their courses well;
The Comet's vagrant paths can tell ;-
But you his search disdain.
Ye restless, homeless, shapeless things!
Who mock all our imaginings,
Like spirits in a dream;
What epithet can words supply,
Unto the bard, who talks so high,
Unmanageable theme?
But one-to me, when fancy stirs
My thoughts, ye seem Heaven's messengers,
Who leave no path untrod;
And when, as now, at midnight's hour,
I hear your voice in all its power,
It seems the voice of God.
THE SILENT EXPRESSION OF NATURE.
WHEN, thoughtful, to the vault of Heaven
I lift my wondering eyes,
And see the clear and quiet even
To night resign the skies,—
The moon, in silence, rear her crest,
The stars, in silence, shine;
A secret rapture fills my breast
That speaks its birth divine.
Unheard, the dews around me fall,
And heavenly influence shed,
And silent on this earthly ball
Celestial footsteps tread:
Aërial music wakes the spheres,
Touch'd by harmonious powers;
With sounds, unheard by mortal ears,
They charm the lingering hours.
Night reigns, in silence, o'er the pole,
And spreads her gems unheard;
Her lessons penetrate the soul,
Yet borrow not a word:
Noiseless the sun emits his fire,
And silent pours his golden streams;
And silently the shades retire
Before his rising beams.
The hand that moves, and regulates,
And guides the vast machine,-
That governs wills, and times, and fates,—
Retires, and works unseen:
Angelic visitants forsake
Their amaranthine bowers;
On silent wing their stations take,
And watch the allotted hours.
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