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VI.

ON A SCENE IN THE DARGLE.

Twas a bright moment of my life when first,

O thou pure stream through rocky portals flowing! That temple-chamber of thy glory burst

On my glad sight!-thy pebbly couch lay glowing With deep mosaic hues; and, richly throwing

O'er thy cliff-walls a tinge of autumn's vest,

High bloom'd the heath-flowers, and the wild wood's

crest

Was touched with gold.-Flow ever thus, bestowing Gifts of delight, sweet stream! on all who move Gently along thy shores; and oh! if love,

-True love, in secret nurs'd, with sorrow fraughtShould sometimes bear his treasured griefs to Thee,

Then full of kindness let thy music be,

Singing repose to every troubled thought!

VII.

DESIGN AND PERFORMANCE.

They float before my soul, the fair designs
Which I would body forth to Life and Power,

Like clouds, that with their wavering hues and lines
Pourtray majestic buildings:-Dome and tower,

Bright spire, that through the rainbow and the shower
Points to th' unchanging stars; and high arcade
Far-sweeping to some glorious altar, made

For holiest rites :-meanwhile the waning hour
Melts from me, and by fervent dreams o'erwrought,
I sink:-
-O friend! O link'd with each high thought!
Aid me, of those rich visions to detain

All I may grasp; until thou seest fulfill'd,

While time and strength allow, my hope to build,

For lowly hearts devout, but one enduring fane!

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VIII.

THE POETRY OF THE PSALMS.

Nobly thy song, O minstrel! rush'd to meet
Th' Eternal on the pathway of the blast,
With darkness round him, as a mantle, cast,
And cherubim to waft his flying seat;

Amidst the hills that smoked beneath his feet
With trumpet-voice thy spirit call'd aloud,
And bade the trembling rocks his name repeat,
And the bent cedars, and the bursting cloud.
But far more gloriously to earth made known
By that high strain than by the thunder's tone,
The flashing torrents, or the ocean's roll,
Jehovah spake, through the imbreathing fire,
Nature's vast realms for ever to inspire

With the deep worship of a living soul.

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There are who climb the mountain's heathery side,
Or, in life's vernal strength triumphant, urge
The bark's fleet rushing through the crested surge,
Or spur the courser's fiery race of pride
Over the green savannas, gleaming wide

By some vast lake; yet thus, on foaming sea,
Or chainless wild, reign far less nobly free,
Than thou, in that lone dungeon, glorified
By thy brave suffering.-Thou from its dark cell
Fierce thought and baleful passion didst exclude,
Filling the dedicated solitude

With God; and where His spirit deigns to dwell,
Though the worn frame in fetters withering lie,
There-throned in peace divine is liberty!

X.

TO THE SAME, RELEASED.

How flows thy being now?-like some glad hymn, One strain of solemn rapture ?-doth thine eye

Wander through tears of voiceless feeling dim,
O'er the crowned Alps, that, 'midst the upper sky,
Steep in the sunlight of thine Italy?

Or is thy gaze of reverent love profound,
Unto those dear parental faces bound,

Which, with their silvery hair, so oft glanced by,
Haunting thy prison-dreams?-Where'er thou art,
Blessing be shed upon thine inmost heart,

Joy, from kind looks, blue skies, and flowery sod,
For that pure voice of thoughtful wisdom sent
Forth from thy cell, in sweetness eloquent,
Of love to man, and quenchless trust in God!

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