Who livest-that we know

In Eternity-we feel

But the shadow of whose brow

What spirit shall reveal?
Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace,
Thy messenger hath known

Have dream'd for thy Infinity.
*A model of their own-
Thy will is done, Oh, God!

The star hath ridden high
Thro' many a tempest, but she rode
Beneath thy burning eye;

And here, in thought, to thee-
In thought that can alone
Ascend thy empire and so be

A partner of thy throne

* The Humanitarians held that God was to be understood as having really a human form.-Vide Clarke's Sermons, vol. 1, page 26, fol. edit.

The drift of Milton's argument, leads him to employ language which would appear, at first sight, to verge upon their doctrine; but it will be seen immediately, that he guards himself against the charge of having adopted one of the most ignorant errors of the dark ages of the church.-Dr. Sumner's Notes on Milton's Christian Doctrine.

This opinion, in spite of many testimonies to the contrary, could never have been very general. Andeus, a Syrian of Mesopotamia, was condemned for the opinion, as heretical. He lived in the beginning of the fourth century His disciples were called Anthropmorphites.-Vide Du Pin.

Among Milton's minor poems are these lines:

Dicite sacrorum præsides nemorum Deæ, &c.

Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine

Natura solers finxit humanum genus?

Eternus, incorruptus, æquævus polo,

Unusque et universus exemplar Dei.—And afterwards,

Non cui profunaum Cæcitas lumen dedit

Dirceus augur vidit hunc alto sinu, &c.

*By winged Fantasy,

My embassy is given,

Till secrecy shall knowledge be

In the environs of Heaven."

She ceas'd-and buried then her burning cheek
Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek

A shelter from the fervour of His eye;

For the stars trembled at the Deity.

She stirr'd not-breath'd not-for a voice was there
How solemnly pervading the calm air!

A sound of silence on the startled ear

Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere."
Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call
"Silence"-which is the merest word of all.
All Nature speaks, and ev'n ideal things
Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings-
But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high
The eternal voice of God is passing by,
And the red winds are withering in the sky!

"What tho' in worlds which sightless cycles run,

Link'd to a little system, and one sun

Where all my love is folly and the crowd
Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud,
The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath-
(Ah! will they cross me in my angrier path?)
What tho' in worlds which own a single sun
The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run,

Seltsamen Tochter Jovis

Seinem Schosskinde

Der Phantasie.-Goethe.

↑ Sightless-too small to be seen-Legge.

Yet thine is my resplendency, so given
To bear my secrets thro' the upper Heaven.
Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly,
With all thy train, athwart the moony sky-
*Apart-like fire-flies in Sicilian night,
And wing to other worlds another light!
Divulge the secrets of thy embassy
To the proud orbs that twinkle-and so be
To ev'ry heart a barrier and a ban
Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!"

Up rose the maiden in the yellow night,
The single-mooned eve!-on Earth we plight
Our faith to one love-and one moon adore-
The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.
As sprang that yellow star from downy hours.
Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers,
And bent o'er sheeny mountain and dim plain.
+Her way—but left not yet her Therasaan reign.

* I have often noticed a peculiar movement of the fire-flies ;-they will collect in a body and fly off, from a common centre, into innumerable radii.

+ Therasæa, or Theresea, the island mentioned by Seneca, which, in a moment, arose from the sa to the eyes of astonished mariners.

PART II.

HIGH on a mountain of enamell'd head-
Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees
With many a mutter'd "hope to be forgiven"
What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven-
Of rosy head, that towering far away

Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray

Of sunken suns at eve-at noon of night,

While the moon danc'd with the fair stranger light-
Uprear'd upon such height arose a pile

Of gorgeous columns on th' unburthen'd air,
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,
And nursled the young mountain in its lair.
*Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall
Thro' the ebon air, besilvering the pall
Of their own dissolution, while they die-
Adorning then the dwellings of the sky.

A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down,
Sat gently on these columns as a crown—
A window of one circular diamond, there,
Look'd out above into the purple air,

* Some star which, from the ruin'd roof

Of shak'd Olympus, by mischance, did fall.-Milton.

And rays
from God shot down that meteor chain
And hallow'd all the beauty twice again,

Save when, between th' Empyrean and that ring,
Some eager spirit flapp'd his dusky wing.
But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen
The dimness of this world: that greyish green
That Nature loves the best for Beauty's grave
Lurk'd in each cornice, round each architrave-
And every sculptur'd cherub thereabout
That from his marble dwelling peeréd out,
Seem'd earthly in the shadow of his niche-
Achaian statues in a world so rich?
*Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis-
From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss
†Of beautiful Gomorrah! O, the wave
Is now upon thee-but too late to save!

Sound loves to revel in a summer night:
Witness the murmur of the grey twilight

* Voltaire, in speaking of Persepolis, says, "Je connois bien l'admiration qu'insirent ces ruines-mais un palais erigé au pied d'une chaine des rochers sterils -peut il être un chef d'œuvre des arts!"

"Oh! the wave"-Ula Deguisi is the Turkish appellation; but, on its own shores, it is called Bahar Loth, or Almotanah. There were undoubtedly more than two cities engulphed in the "dead sea." In the valley of Siddim were five-Adrah, Zeboin, Zoar, Sodom and Gomorrah. Stephen of Byzantium mentions eight, and Strabo thirteen, (engulphed)—but the last is out of all reason.

It is said, [Tacitus, Strabo, Josephus, Daniel of St. Saba, Nau, Maundrell, Troilo, D'Arvieux] that after an excessive drought, the vestiges of columns, walls, &c. are seen above the surface. At any season, such remains may be discovered by looking down into the transparent lake, and at such distances as would argue the existence of many settlements in the space now usurped by the 'Asphaltites.'