Shoots into port at some well-havened isle,
Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile,
There sits quiescent on the floods, that show
Her beauteous form reflected clear below,
While airs impregnated with incense play
Around her, fanning light her streamers gay;
So thou, with sails now swift! hast reached the shore,
"Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,"
And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide
Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
But me scarce hoping to attain that rest,
Always from port withheld, always distressed-
The howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed,
Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost,
And day by day some current's thwarting force
Sets me more distant from a prosperous course.
Yet, oh the thought, that thou art safe, and he!
That thought is joy, arrive what may to me.
My boast is not, that I deduce my birth
From lines enthroned, and rulers of the earth,
But higher far my proud pretensions rise-
The son of parents passed into the skies.
And now, farewell-Time unrevoked has run
His wonted course, yet what I wished is done,
By contemplation's help, not sought in vain,
I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again;
To have renewed the joys that once were mine,
Without the sin of violating thine;
And, while the wings of fancy still are free,
And I can view this mimic show of thee,
Time has but half succeeded in his theft-
Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
"DO I NOT FEEL?"
"Do. I not feel?" The doubt is keen as steel,
Yes. I do feel-most exquisitely feel;
My heart can weep, when from my downcast eye,
I chase the tear, and stem the rising sigh:
Deep buried there I close the rankling dart,
And smile the most when heaviest is my heart.
On this I act-whatever pangs surround,
'Tis magnanimity to hide the wound!
When all was new, and life was in its spring,
I lived an unloved, solitary thing;
Even then I learned to bury deep from day,
The piercing cares that wore my youth away:
Even then I learned for others cares to feel;
Even then I wept I had not power to heal :
Even then deep-sounding, through the nightly gloom,
I heard the wretched's groan, and mourned the
wretched's doom,
Who were my friends in youth? The midnight fire-
The silent moon-beam, or the starry choir;
To these I 'plained, or turned from outer sight,
To bless my lonely taper's friendly light;
I never yet could ask, howe'er forlorn,
For vulgar pity mixed with vulgar scorn;
The sacred source of woe I never ope;
My breast's my coffer, and my God's my hope,
But that I do feel, time my friend will show,
Though the cold crowd the secret never know;
With them I laugh-yet, when no eye can see,
weep for nature, and I weep for thee.
Yes, thou didst wrong me ;—oh! I fondly thought In thee I had found the friend my heart had sought
I fondly thought that thou couldst pierce the guise,
And read the truth that in my bosom lies;
I fondly thought ere Time's last days were gone,
Thy heart and mine had mingled into one!
Yes-and they yet will mingle. Days and years
Will fly, and leave us partners in our tears:
We then shall feel that friendship has a power
To soothe affliction in her darkest hour;
Time's trial o'er shall clasp each other's hand,
And wait the passport to a better land.
THE PRAYER IN THE WILDERNESS.
In the deep wilderness unseen she prayed,
The daughter of Jerusalem; alone
With all the still, small whispers of the night,
And with the searching glances of the stars,
And with her God, alone: she lifted up
Her sweet, sad voice, and, trembling o'er her head,
The dark leaves thrilled with prayer, the tearful
Of woman's quenchless, yet repentant love.
"Father of Spirits, hear!
Look on the inmost heart to thee revealed,
Look on the fountain of the burning tear,
Before thy sight in solitude unsealed!
"Hear, Father! hear, and aid! If I have loved too well, if I have shed,
In my vain fondness, o'er a mortal head
Gifts on Thy shrine, my God! more fitly laid;
"If I have sought to live
But in one light, and made a human eye
The lonely star of mine idolatry,
Thou that art Love! oh, pity and forgive!
"Chastened and schooled at last,
No more, no more my struggling spirit burns,
But, fixed on thee, from that wild worship turns-
What have I said?—the deep dream is not past!
"Yet hear! if still I love,
Oh! still too fondly-if, for ever seen,
An earthly image comes my heart between,
And thy calm glory, Father! throned above,
"If still a voice is near
(E'en while I strive these wanderings to control,)
An earthly voice disquieting my soul
With its deep music, too intensely dear;
"O Father! draw to Thee
My lost affections back! the dreaming eyes
Clear from their mist-sustain the heart that dies,
Give the worn soul once more its pinions free!
"I must love on, O God!
This bosom must love on! but let Thy breath
Touch and make pure the flame that knows not
Bearing it up to heaven-love's own abode !"
Ages and ages past, the wilderness,
With its dark cedars, and the thrilling night,
With her clear stars, and the mysterious winds,
That waft all sound, were conscious of those prayers.
How many such hath woman's bursting heart
Since then, in silence and in darkness breathed,
Like the dim night-flower's odour, up to God.
MARY MAGDALENE.
To the hall of the feast came the sinful and fair,
She heard in the city that Jesus was there;
Unheeding the splendour that blazed on the board,
She silently knelt at the feet of her Lord.
The frown and the murmur sent round through them
That one so unhallowed should tread in that hall;
And some said the poor would be objects more meet,
As the wealth of her perfume she showered at His feet.
She heard but the Saviour-she spoke but with tears;
She dared not look up to the heaven of His eyes;
And the hot tears gushed forth at each heave of her
breast,
As her lips to His sandals were throbbingly pressed.
In the sky after tempest as shineth the bow,
In the glare of the sunbeams as melteth the snow,
He looked on the lost one, "her sins were forgiven,"
And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven.
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