XXXII. INSIDE OF KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE. TAX not the royal Saint with vain expense, Of white-robed Scholars only, this immense Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore So deemed the Man who fashioned for the sense Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality. XXXIII. THE SAME. WHAT awful perspective! while from our sight With gradual stealth the lateral windows hide Whoe'er ye be, that thus-yourselves unseen The notes luxuriate - every stone is kissed By sound, or ghost of sound, in mazy strife; Heart-thrilling strains, that cast before the eye XXXIV. CONTINUED. THEY dreamt not of a perishable home Infinity's embrace; whose guardian crest, XXXV. EJACULATION. GLORY to God! and to the Power who came In filial duty, clothed with love divine ; Earth prompts - Heaven urges; let us seek the light When first our infant brows their lustre won; So, like the Mountain, may we grow more bright From unimpeded commerce with the Sun, At the approach of all-involving night. XXXVI. CONCLUSION. WHY sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, Nations, and Death has gathered to his fold |