THE MOONLIGHT CHURCHYARD. DELTA. THERE is no cloud to mar the depth of blue, Which seem the heritage of human-kind, To gaze upon the studded arch above, And on thy placid beauty, mystic moon! And rendering night more exquisite than noon, As from terrestrial frailties we retire, And to thy hallow'd mood our hearts attune, To those benignant feelings we aspire Which make the spirit glow with purified desire. 'Tis sweet, thus resting on this grassy mound, Beaming within the lattice, makes to glow The shatter'd wrecks of generations past, Slumbering around me are the village-dead: O'er them no sculptured stones their shadows cast, Under this hoary elm, with lichens red, I've thought how years and generations flee, And of the things which were, and never more shall be! Nor is the day far distant, nor the hour When all that revel now in pride and power, But man was made for bustle and for strife! Though sometimes, like the sun on summer days, The bosom is unruffled, yet his life Consists in agitation, and his ways Are through the battling storm-blasts: to erase Yet lost to all that dignifies our kind, Cold were the heart, and bigoted indeed, Which, by its selfish principles made blind, Could destine all that differ'd from its creed To uttermost perdition! Who can feed A doctrine so debasing in the breast? We who are dust and ashes, who have need Of mercy, not of judgment, and at best Are vanity to Him with whom our fate must rest! Since thus so feeble, happy 'tis for us That the All seeing is our Judge alone! With marvels, hidden in the womb of night, Oh! who that gazes on the lights of life, Man in his might, and woman in her bloom, Would think that, after some brief years of strife, Both must be tenants of the silent tomb! Nought can revoke the irrevocable doomChildhood's despair, man's prayer, or woman's tear: The soul must journey through the vale of gloom, And ere it enters on a new career, Burn in the light of hope, or shrink with conscious fear. Then in resign'd submission let us bow 'Tis thine, O God! to take or to bestow, To raise the meek, or bid the mighty fall. Shall low-born doubts, shall earthly fears enthrall The deathless soul which emanates from Thee? Forbid the degradation! No!-it shall Burst from earth's bonds, like day-star from the sea, When from the rising sun the shades of darkness flee. |