lamb's meek plaint,
The hum of bees, and vesper hymn of birds,
The rural harmony of flocks and herds,
The song of joy, or praise, and man's sweet words--
Come to me fainter--yet more faint
Was my poor soul to God's great works so dull.
That they from her must hide forever?
Earth too replete with joy, too beautiful,
For me, ingrate, that we must sever?
For by sweet scented airs that round me blow,
By transient showers, the sun's impassioned glow,
And smell of woods and fields, alone I know
Of Spring's approach, and Summer's bloom;
And by the pure air, void of odors sweet,
By noontide beams, low slanting, without heat,
By rude winds, cumbering snows, and hazardous sleet,
Of Autumn's blight and Winter's gloom

As at the entrance of an untrod cave,
I shrink--so hushed the shades and sombre.
This death of sense makes life a breathing grave,
A vital death, a waking slumber!
'Tis as the light itself of God were fled--
So dark is all around, so still, so dead;
Nor hope of change, one ray I find!
Yet must submit. Though fled fore'er the light,
Though utter silence bring me double night,
Though to my insulated mind,
Knowledge her richest pages ne'er unfold,
And "human face divine" I ne'er behold--
Yet must submit, must be resigned!

TO THE SHADES.

To thee, blind Milton, solemn son of night,
Great exile once from day's dominion bright,
Whose genius, steeped in truth and glory,
Like some wide orb of new created light,
Rose, in the world, bewildering mortals' sight--
I'll sing till earth's young hills grow hoary!
For what of joy I've found in life's dark way,
And what of excellence have reached I may,
Much, much is due thy wondrous rhyme,
Which sang the triumphs of Eternal Truth,
Revealed blest glimpses of immortal youth,
Of Heaven, e'er angels sang of time:
Of light, that o'er the embryon tumult broke,
Of earth, when all the stars symphonious woke,
Till man, as if from Heaven a seraph spoke,
Entranced, hung on thy strains sublime.

Day closes on the earth his one bright eye,
That Night, her starry lids unsealing,
May ope her thousand in a loftier sky,
God's higher mysteries revealing.
So when thy day from thee its light withdrew,
And o'er the night its rueful shadows threw,
And "from the cheerful ways of