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IN THE CATHEDRAL AT COLOGNE.

O

FOR the help of Angels to complete

This Temple-Angels governed by a plan
Thus far pursued (how gloriously!) by Man,
Studious that He might not disdain the seat
Who dwells in heaven! But that aspiring heat
Hath failed; and now, ye Powers! whose gorgeous
wings

And splendid aspect yon emblazonings
But faintly picture, 'twere an office meet
For you on these unfinished shafts to try
The midnight virtues of your harmony-
This vast design might tempt you to repeat
Strains that call forth upon empyreal ground
Immortal Fabrics, rising to the sound
Of penetrating harps and voices sweet!

THE FALL OF THE AAR-HANDEC.

F

ROM the fierce aspect of this River, throwing His giant body o'er the steep rock's brink, Back in astonishment and fear we shrink: But, gradually a calmer look bestowing, Flowers we espy beside the torrent growing; Flowers that peep forth from many a cleft and chink, And, from the whirlwind of his anger, drink Hues ever fresh, in rocky fortress blowing : They suck-from breath that, threatening to destroy,

Is more benignant than the dewy eve

Beauty, and life, and motions as of joy :
Nor doubt but HE to whom yon Pine-trees nod
Their heads in sign of worship, Nature's God,
These humbler adorations will receive.

PERSECUTION OF THE SCOTTISH
COVENANTERS.

WHEN Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant

cry,

The majesty of England interposed,

And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed;

And Faith preserved her ancient purity.
How little boots that precedent of good,

Scorned or forgotten, Thou canst testify,

For England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood,
Mountain, and moor, and crowded street, where lie
The headless martyrs of the Covenant,

Slain by Compatriot-protestants, that draw
From councils senseless as intolerant

Their warrant. Bodies fall by wild sword-law;
But who would force the Soul tilts with a straw
Against a Champion cased in adamant.

IN

SONNET.

N my mind's eye a Temple, like a cloud Slowly surmounting some invidious hill, Rose out of darkness: the bright Work stood still; And might of its own beauty have been proud,

But it was fashioned and to God was vowed
By Virtues that diffused, in every part,
Spirit divine through forms of human art;

Faith had her arch-her arch, when winds blow loud,
Into the consciousness of safety thrilled;
And Love her towers of dread foundation laid
Under the grave of things; Hope had her spire
Star-high, and pointing still to something higher;
Trembling I gazed, but heard a voice--it said,
"Hell-gates are powerless Phantoms when we build."

ΤΟ

SU

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* IN HER SEVENTIETH YEAR.

UCH age how beautiful! O Lady bright, Whose mortal lineaments seem all refined By favouring Nature and a saintly Mind

To something purer and more exquisite

Than flesh and blood; whene'er thou meet'st my sight,
When I behold thy blanched, unwithered cheek,
Thy temples fringed with locks of gleaming white,
And head that droops because the soul is meek,
Thee with the welcome Snowdrop I compare;
That child of winter, prompting thoughts that climb
From desolation toward the genial prime;
Or with the Moon conquering earth's misty air,
And filling more and more with crystal light
As pensive Evening deepens into night.

* Addressed to Lady Fitzgerald.

ET

TO A SKYLARK.

THEREAL minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares
abound?

Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still!
Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine:

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam :
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK.

ROCK there is whose homely front
The passing traveller slights;

Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps,
Like stars, at various heights;
And one coy Primrose to that Rock

The vernal breeze invites.

What hideous warfare hath been waged
What kingdoms overthrown,
Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft
And marked it for my own;

A lasting link in Nature's chain
From highest heaven let down!

THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK. 271

The flowers, still faithful to the stems,
Their fellowship renew;

The stems are faithful to the root

That worketh out of view;
And to the rock the root adheres
In every fibre true.

Close clings to earth the living rock,
Though threatening still to fall;
The earth is constant to her sphere;
And God upholds them all:

So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads
Her annual funeral.

Here closed the meditative strain ;
But air breathed soft that day,
The hoary mountain-heights were cheered,
The sunny vale looked gay;
And to the Primrose of the Rock
I gave this after-lay.

I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers,
Like Thee, in field and grove
Revive unenvied-mightier far
Than tremblings that reprove
Our vernal tendencies to hope,
Is God's redeeming love;

That love which changed-for wan disease,
For sorrow that had bent

O'er hopeless dust, for withered age

Their moral element,

And turned the thistles of a curse

To types beneficent.

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