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Come forth; and, while the morning air is yet
Transparent as the soul of innocent youth,
Let me, thy happy Guide, now point thy way,
And now precede thee, winding to and fro,
Till we by perseverance gain the top

Of some smooth ridge, whose brink precipitous
Kindles intense desire for powers withheld
From this corporeal frame; whereon who stands,
Is seized with strong incitement to push forth
His arms, as swimmers use, and plunge — dread thought!
For pastime plunge into the " abrupt abyss,"

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Where Ravens spread their plumy vans, at ease!
And yet more gladly thee would I conduct
Through woods and spacious forests, to behold

There, how the Original of human art,

Heaven-prompted Nature, measures and erects
Her temples, fearless for the stately work,
Though waves in every breeze its high-arched roof,
And storms the pillars rock. But we such schools
Of reverential awe will chiefly seek

In the still summer noon, while beams of light,
Reposing here, and in the aisles beyond
Traceably gliding through the dusk, recall

To mind the living presences of Nuns;

A gentle, pensive, white-robed sisterhood,
Whose saintly radiance mitigates the gloom
Of those terrestrial fabrics, where they serve,
To Christ, the Sun of Righteousness, espoused.
Now also shall the page of classic lore,
To these glad eyes from bondage freed, again
Lie open; and the book of Holy Writ,
Again unfolded, passage clear shall yield
To heights more glorious still, and into shades
More awful, where advancing hand in hand
We may be taught, O Darling of my care!
To calm the affections, elevate the soul,
And consecrate our lives to truth and love.



THE sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields Are hung, as if with golden shields, Bright trophies of the sun!

Like a fair sister of the sky,

Unruffled doth the blue Lake lie,

The Mountains looking on.

And, sooth to say, yon vocal Grove,
Albeit uninspired by love,

By love untaught to ring,

May well afford to mortal ear

An impulse more profoundly dear
Than music of the Spring.

For that from turbulence and heat

Proceeds, from some uneasy seat
In Nature's struggling frame,
Some region of impatient life;
And jealousy, and quivering strife,
Therein a portion claim.


This, this is holy; - while I hear
These vespers of another
This hymn of thanks and praise,
My spirit seems to mount above
The anxieties of human love,

And earth's precarious days.

But list!

though winter storms be nigh,

Unchecked is that soft harmony:
There lives Who can provide

For all his creatures; and in Him,
Even like the radiant Seraphim,

These Choristers confide.



DEPARTING Summer hath assumed

An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of Spring;

That calls from yonder leafy shade
Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,
A timely caroling.

No faint and hesitating trill,

Such tribute as to Winter 'chill

The lonely redbreast pays!

Clear, loud, and lively is the din,
From social warblers gathering in
Their harvest of sweet lays.

Nor doth the example fail to cheer
Me, conscious that my leaf is sere,
And yellow on the bough:—
Fall, rosy garlands, from my head!
Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed
Around a younger brow!

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