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Enough that blessings undeserved
Have marked my erring track;
That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved
His chastening turned me back—-

That more and more a Providence
Of love is understood,

Making the springs of time and sense,
Sweet with eternal good-

That death seems but a covered way
Which opens into light,
Wherein no blinded child can stray
Beyond the Father's sight-

That care and trial seem at last,

Through Memory's sunset air, Like mountain ranges overpast, In purple distance fair

That all the jarring notes of life
Seem blending in a psalm,
And all the angles of its strife
Slow rounding into calm.

And so the shadows fall apart,

And so the west winds play; And all the windows of my heart I open to the day.



The Three Voices.

HAT saith the Past to thee? Weep!
Truth is departed;

Beauty hath died like the dream of a sleep,

Love is faint-hearted:


Trifles of sense, the profoundly unreal,
Scare from our spirits God's holy ideal-

So, as a funeral-bell, slowly and deep,
So tolls the Past to thee! Weep!

How speaks the Present hour? Act!
Walk, upward glancing:

So shall thy footsteps in glory be tracked,
Slow, but advancing.

Scorn not the smallness of daily endeavor,
Let the great meaning ennoble it ever;

Droop not o'er efforts expended in vain;
Work, as believing that labor is gain.

What doth the Future say? Hope!
Turn thy face sunward!

Look where light fringes the far-rising slope-
Day cometh onward.

Watch! Though so long be the twilight delaying-
Let the first sunbeam arise on thee praying!

Fear not, for greater is God by thy side
Than armies of Satan against thee allied!

The Cloud on the Way.


EE, before us in our journey broods a mist upon the ground;

Thither leads the path we walk in, blending with that gloomy bound.

Never eye hath pierced its shadows to the mystery they screen,

Those who once have passed within it nevermore on earth

are seen.



Now it seems to stop beside us, now at seeming distance lowers,

Leaving banks that tempt us onward bright with summer green and flowers.

Yet it blots the way forever; there our journey ends at last; With that dark cloud we enter and are gathered to the past. Thou who in this flinty pathway, leading through a stranger land,

Passest down the rocky valley, walking with me hand in hand, Which of us shall be the soonest folded to that dim Unknown, Which shall leave the other walking in this flinty path alone? Even now I see thee shudder, and thy cheek is white with fear,

And thou clingest to my side as that dark mist comes sweeping near.

“Here,” thou say’st, “the path is rugged, sown with thorns that wound the feet;

But the sheltered glens are lovely, and the rivulet's song is


Roses breathe from tangled thickets; lilies bend from ledges brown ; Pleasantly between the pelting showers the sunshine gushes down.

Far be yet the hour that takes me where that chilly shadow lies,

From the things I know and love, and from the sight of loving eyes."

So thou murmurest, fearful one, but see, we tread a rougher


Fainter grow the gleams of sunshine that upon the dark rocks play;

Rude winds strew the faded flowers upon the crags o'er which

we pass;

Banks of verdure, when we reach them, hiss with tufts of withered grass.

Yet upon the mist before us fix thine eyes with closer view, See, beneath its sullen skirts the rosy morning glimmers through.

One, whose feet the thorns have wounded entered thither and came back,

With a glory on his footsteps lighting yet the dreary track. Boldly enter where he entered: all that seems but darkness here,

When thou once hast passed beyond it, haply shall be crystal clear,

Seen from that serener realm the walks of human life may lie

Like the page of some familiar volume open to mine eye. Haply from the o'erhanging shadow thou may'st stretch an unseen hand

To support the wavering steps that print with blood the rugged land.

Haply, leaning o'er the pilgrim all unweeting thou art near, Thou may'st whisper words of warning and of comfort in

his ear,

Till, beyond the border where that brooding mystery bars the


Those whom thou hast fondly cherished stand with thee in peace and light.




YE nymphs of Solyma! begin the song

To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades,
The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids,
Delight no more-O thou my voice inspire
Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire!

Rapt into future times the bard begun :
A virgin shall conceive—a virgin bear a son!
From Jesse's root behold a branch arise
Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies!

The ethereal spirit o'er its leaves shall move,

And on its top descends the mystic dove.


Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour,
And in soft silence shed the kindly shower!
The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid-
From storm a shelter, and from heat a shade.
All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds shall fail;
Returning Justice lift aloft her scale,

Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend.
Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn!
O spring to light! auspicious babe, be born!
See, nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incense of the breathing Spring!
See lofty Lebanon his head advance;

See nodding forests on the mountains dance;
See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise,
And Carmel's flowery top perfumes the skies!
Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers:
Prepare the way! a God, a God appears!
A God, a God! the vocal hills reply—
The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity.
Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies!
Sink down, ye mountains; and ye valleys, rise!
With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay!
Be smooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way!
The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold-
Hear Him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films shall purge the visual ray,
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day;
'Tis He, the obstructed paths of sound shall clear,
And bid new music charm the unfolding ear;
The dumb shall sing; the lame his crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear-
From every face He wipes off every tear.

In adamantine chains shall Death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound.
As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air,


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