nal voice,

The region of thy choice,

there,

Mar the full burst of prayer;

ly breathe,

And round us and beneath

the soul

Owns thy entire control?

and high,

When storms are hurrying by:

the earth,

Where torrents have their birth.

romantic

note and clear, Meet for a hermit's ear,-

The wheeling kite's wild solitary cry,

And scarcely heard so high, The dashing waters when the air is still,

From many a torrent rill That winds unseen beneath the shaggy fell.

Tracked by the blue mist well: Such sounds as make deep silence in the heart,

For Thought to do her part.

'Tis then we hear the voice of God within,

Pleading with care and sin; "Child of my love! how have I wearied thee?

Why wilt thou err from me? Have I not brought thee from the house of slaves;

Parted the drowning waves, And sent my saints before thee in

the way,

And well it is for us our God should feel

Alone our secret throbbings: so our prayer

spend its zeal

But where are now his eagle wings, That sheltered erst a thousand kings, Hiding the glorious sky

No holier name, no mightier throne ? That vision is gone by.

Quenched is the golden statue's ray, The breath of heaven has blown away

What toiling earth had piled, Scattering wise heart and crafty hand,

As breezes strew on ocean's sand,
The fabrics of a child.

Divided thence through every age
Thy rebels, Lord, their warfare wage,
And hoarse and jarring all
Mount up their heaven-assailing cries
To thy bright watchman in the skies
From Babel's shattered wall.

Thrice only since, with blended might

The nations on that haughty height
Have met to scale the heaven:
Thrice only might a seraph's look
A moment's shade of sadness brook;
Such power to guilt was given.

Now the fierce Bear and Leopard keen

Are perished as they ne'er had been, Oblivion is their home: Ambition's boldest dream and last Must melt before the clarion blast

That sounds the dirge of Rome.