Then with a smile, that filled the house with

light,

"My errand is not Death, but Life," he

said;

And ere I answered, passing out of sight,

On his celestial embassy he sped.

'Twas at thy door, O friend! and not at mine,

The angel with the amaranthine wreath, Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, Whispered a word that had a sound like Death.

Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom,

A shadow on those features fair and thin; And softly, from that hushed and darkened room,

Two angels issued, where but one went in.

All is of God! If he but wave his hand,

The mists collect, the rain falls thick and loud,

Till, with a smile of light on sea and land,

Lo! he looks back from the departing

cloud.

Angels of Life and Death alike are his;

Without his leave they pass no threshold o'er ;

Who, then, would wish or dare, believing

this,

Against his messengers to shut the door?

DAYLIGHT AND MOONLIGHT.

N broad daylight, and at noon,
Yesterday I saw the moon

Sailing high, but faint and white,

As a school-boy's paper kite.

In broad daylight, yesterday,
I read a Poet's mystic lay;
And it seemed to me at most
As a phantom, or a ghost.

But at length the feverish day
Like a passion died away,
And the night, serene and still,
Fell on village, vale, and hill.

Then the moon, in all her pride,

Like a spirit glorified,

Filled and overflowed the night

With revelations of her light.