It tells us that His wrath endures,
But as the twinkling of an eye;
And covenant mercy still ensures,
Vast as the source of its supply.
Waters no more the earth immure,*
Though man is evil from his youth;
The faithful witness + stands secure,
The record of the God of truth.
It ever shall surround the throne,‡
The glorious throne of the Most High,
Its brightest radiance soften'd down,
While the redeem'd of men draw nigh.
* Gen. ix. 15. The waters shall no more become a flood.
† Psa. lxxxix. + Rev. iv. 3.
unto an emerald.
There was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like
Awful your power! when by your might
You heave the wild waves, crested white,
Like mountains in your wrath;
Ploughing between them valleys deep,
Which, to the seamen roused from sleep,
Yawn like Death's opening path!
Graceful your play! when round the bower
Where beauty culls Spring's loveliest flower,
To wreathe her dark locks there,
Your gentlest whispers lightly breathe
The leaves between, flit round the wreath,
And stir her silken hair.
Still, thoughts like these are but of earth,
And you can give far loftier birth :
Ye come!-we know not whence!
Ye go!-can mortals trace your flight?
All imperceptible to sight,
Though audible to sense.
The Sun,-his rise and set we know ;
The Sea,-we mark its ebb and flow;
The Moon,-her wax and wane:
The Stars,-man knows their courses well;
The Comet's vagrant paths can tell ;-
But you his search disdain.
Ye restless, homeless, shapeless things!
Who mock all our imaginings,
Like spirits in a dream ;
What epithet can words supply,
Unto the bard, who talks so high,
Unmanageable theme?
But one-to me, when fancy stirs
My thoughts, ye seem Heaven's messengers,
Who leave no path untrod;
And when, as now, at midnight's hour,
I hear your voice in all its power,
It seems the voice of God.
THE SILENT EXPRESSION OF NATURE.
WHEN, thoughtful, to the vault of Heaven
I lift my wondering eyes,
And see the clear and quiet even
To night resign the skies,-
The moon, in silence, rear her crest,
The stars, in silence, shine;
A secret rapture fills my breast
That speaks its birth divine.
Unheard, the dews around me fall,
And heavenly influence shed,
And silent on this earthly ball
Celestial footsteps tread :
Aerial music wakes the spheres,
Touch'd by harmonious powers;
With sounds, unheard by mortal ears,
They charm the lingering hours.
Night reigns, in silence, o'er the pole,
And spreads her gems unheard;
Her lessons penetrate the soul,
Yet borrow not a word:
Noiseless the sun emits his fire,
And silent pours his golden streams;
And silently the shades retire
Before his rising beams.
The hand that moves, and regulates,
And guides the vast machine,-
That governs wills, and times, and fates,-
Retires, and works unseen:
Angelic visitants forsake
Their amaranthine bowers;
On silent wing their stations take,
And watch the allotted hours.
Sick of the vanity of man,
His noise, and pomp, and show,-
I'll move upon great Nature's plan,
And, silent, work below:
With inward harmony of soul,
I'll wait the upper sphere;
Shining, I'll mount above the pole,
And break my silence there.
WHERE Ausonian Summers glowing,
Warm the deep to life and joyance,
And gentle zephyrs nimbly blowing,
Wanton with the waves, that flowing
By many a land of ancient glory,
And many an isle renown'd in story,
Leap along with gladsome buoyance,
There Marinere,
Dost thou appear,
In fairy pinnace gaily flashing,
Through the white foam proudly dashing,
The joyous play-mate of the buxom breeze,
The fearless fondling of the mighty seas.
Thou the light sail boldly spreadest,
O'er the furrow'd waters gliding,
Thou nor wreck nor foeman dreadest,
Thou nor helm nor compass needest,
While the sun is bright above thee,
While the bounding surges love thee,
In their deepening bosoms hiding,
Thou canst not fear,
Small Marinere,
For though the tides with restless motion
Bear thee to the desert ocean,
Far as the ocean stretches to the sky,
'Tis all thine own, 'tis all thy empery.
Lame is art, and her endeavour
Follows Nature's course but slowly,
Guessing, toiling, seeking ever,
Still improving, perfect never;
Little Nautilus, thou showest
Deeper wisdom than thou knowest,
Lore, which man should study lowly:
Bold faith and cheer,
Are thine within thy pearly dwelling,—
Thine, a law of life compelling.
Obedience, perfect, simple, glad, and free,
To the great will that animates the sea.
HERE happy would they stray in Summer-hours,
To spy the birds in their green leafy bowers,
And learn their various voices; to delight
In the gay tints, and ever bickering flight
Of dragon-flies upon the river's brim;
Or swift king-fisher in his gaudy trim
Come skimming past, with a shrill, sudden cry;
Or on the river's sunny marge to lie,
And count the insects that meandering trace,
In some smooth nook, their circuits on its face.
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