Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,

How silently! Around thee and above

around my mind, Reality's dark dream!

I turn from you, and listen to the wind,

Thou actor, perfect in all tragic

sounds!

Thou mighty poet, e'en to frenzy

bold!

black,

An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it,

As with a wedge! But when I look again,

It is thine own calm home, thy crys

tal shrine,

Thy habitation from eternity! O dread and silent mount! I gazed upon thee,

Till thou, still present to the bodily

sense,

Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer I worshipped the Invisible alone.

Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody,

So sweet, we know not we are listening to it,

Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, Yea, with my life, and life's own secret joy:

Till the dilating soul, enwrapt, transfused,

Into the mighty vision passing

there

Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears,

Mute thanks and secret ecstasy! Awake,

Voice of sweet song. Awake, my heart, awake! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn.

Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the vale!

Oh, struggling with the darkness all the night,

And visited all night by troops of stars,

Or when they climb the sky or when they sink:

Companion of the morning-star at dawn,

Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn

Co-herald: wake, oh, wake, and utter praise!

Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth?

Who filled thy countenance with rosy light?

Who made thee parent of perpetual streams?

And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad!

Who called you forth from night and utter death,

From dark and icy caverns called you forth,

Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks,

For ever shattered and the same for ever?

Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy,

Unceasing thunder and eternal foam? And who commanded (and the silence came,)

Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?

Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope

amain

Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice,

And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge!

Motionless torrents! silent cataracts!

Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost!

Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest!

Ye eagles, play-mates of the mountain storm!

Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds!

Ye signs and wonders of the elements! Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praise!

Thou too, hoar mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard,

Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast

Thou too again, stupendous mountain! thou

That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low

In adoration, upward from thy base Slow travelling with dim eyes suffused with tears,

Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud,

To rise before me-Rise, O ever rise,

Rise like a cloud of incense, from the earth!

trate lie,

Love too will sink and die.

But Love is subtle, and doth proof derive

From her own life that Hope is yet alive;

And bending o'er with soul-transfusing eyes,

And the soft murmurs of the mother dove,

Woos back the fleeting spirit and

half-supplies; —

Thus Love repays to Hope what
Hope first gave to Love.
Yet haply there will come a weary
day

When overtasked at length Both Love and Hope beneath the load give way.

Then with a statue's smile, a statue's strength,

Stands the mute sister, Patience, nothing loth,

And both supporting, does the work of both.

like;

Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O! the joys, that came down shower
like,

Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old.

Ere I was old? Ah, woful ere, Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!

O Youth! for years so many and sweet,

'Tis known, that thou and I were one,

I'll think it but a fond conceit-
It cannot be, that thou art gone!
Thy vesper-bell hath not yet tolled:-
And thou wert aye a masker bold!
What strange disguise hast now put

on,

To make believe, that thou art gone?
I see these locks in silvery slips,
This drooping gait, this altered size:
But springtide blossoms on thy lips,
And tears take sunshine from thine
eyes!

For shame, dear friend! renounce

this canting strain! What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain ? Place, titles, salary-a gilded chain Or throne of corses which his sword hath slain ?

Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends!

Hath he not always treasures, always friends,

The good great man?-three treas-
ures, love and light,
And calm thoughts, regular as in-
fant's breath;

And three firm friends, more sure
than day and night-
Himself, his Maker, and the angel
Death.

She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; And that for ten long years he wooed The lady of the land.

I told her how he pined: and ah! The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own.

She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes, and modest grace;

And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face!

knees;

And bending back her head, looked up,

And gazed upon my face.

'Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel than see,
The swelling of her heart.

I calmed her fears, and she was calm,

And told her love with virgin pride; And so I won my Genevieve,

My bright and beauteous bride.

OFF LABRADOR.

THE storm-wind moans through branches bare;

The snow flies wildly through the air; The mad waves roar, as fierce and high [sky. They toss their crests against the

All dark and desolate lies the sand Along the wastes of a barren land;

And rushing on, with sheets flung free,

A ship sails down from the north

ern sea.