Heavy and dull this frame of limbs and heart :

Whether slow creeping on cold earth, or borne On lofty steed, or loftier prow, we dart

O’er wave or field, yet breezes laugh to scorn Our puny speed ; and birds, and clouds in heaven,

And fish, like living shafts that pierce the main, And stars that shoot through freezing air at even,

Who but would follow, might he break his chain ? And thou shalt break it soon; the grovelling worm

Shall find his wings, and soar as fast and free
As his transfigured Lord, with lightning form
And
snowy vest—such

grace He won for thee, When from the

grave

He
sprung

at dawn of morn, And led through boundless air thy conquering road, Leaving a glorious track, where saints, new-born,

Might fearless follow to their blest abode. But first, by many a stern and fiery blast,

The world's rude furnace must thy blood refineAnd many a gale of keenest wo be passed,

Till every pulse beat time to airs divine, Till every limb obey the mounting soul,

The mounting soul the call by Jesus given : He whom the stormy heart can so control,

The laggard body soon will waft to heaven.

THE

FLOWERS

OF

THE

FIELD.

SWEET nurslings of the vernal skies,

Bathed in soft airs, and fed with dew,
What more than magic in you lies,

To fill the heart's fond view ?
In childhood's sports, companions gay,
In sorrow, on life's downward way,
How soothing ! in our last decay

Memorials prompt and true.

Relics ye are of Eden's bowers,

As pure, as fragrant, and as fair, As when

ye

crowned the sunshine hours
Of happy wanderers there.
Fallen all beside—the world of life,
How is it stained with fear and strife!
In Reason's world what storms are rife,

What passions range and glare !
But cheerful and unchanged the while

Your first and perfect form ye show,
The same that won Eve's matron smile

In the world's opening glow.
The stars of heaven a course are taught
Too high above our human thought ;-
Ye may be found if ye are sought,

And as we gaze, we know.
Ye dwell beside our paths and homes,

Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow,
And guilty man, where'er he roams,
Your innocent mirth

may

borrow.
The birds of air before us fleet,
They cannot brook our shame to meet-
But we may taste your solace sweet,

And come again to-morrow.
Ye fearless in your nests abide--

Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise,
Your silent lessons, undescried

By all but lowly eyes :
For ye could draw the admiring gaze
Of Him who worlds and hearts surveys ;
Your order wild, your fragrant maze,

He taught us how to prize.
Ye felt your Maker's smile that hour,

As when He paused and owned you good; His blessing on earth's primal bower,

Ye felt it all renewed.

What care ye now, if winter's storm
Sweep ruthless o'er each silken form ?
Christ's blessing at your heart is warm,

Ye fear no vexing mood.

Alas! of thousand bosoms kind,
That daily court you

and

caress, How few the happy secret find

Of
your

calm loveliness !
“ Live for to-day! to-morrow's light
To-morrow's cares shall bring to sight,
Go sleep like closing flowers at night,

And heaven thy morn will bless."

ADDRESS TO POETS.

Ye whose hearts are beating high
With the pulse of poesy,
Heirs of more than royal race,
Framed, by Heaven's peculiar grace,
God's own work to do on earth,

(If the word be not too bold,)
Giving virtue a new birth,

And a life that ne'er grows old —

Sovereign masters of all hearts !
Know ye

who hath set your parts ?
He, who gave you breath to sing,
By whose strength ye sweep the string,
He hath chosen you to lead

His hosannas here below ;--
Mount, and claim your glorious meed;

Linger not with sin and wo.

But if ye should hold your peace,
Deem not that the song would cease-
Angels round His glory-throne,
Stars, His guiding hand that own,

Flowers, that

grow

beneath our feet,
Stones, in earth's dark womb that rest,
High and low in choir shall meet,

Ere His name shall be unblest.

Lord, by every minstrel tongue
Be thy praise so duly sung,
That thine angels' harps may ne'er
Fail to find fit echoing here!
We the while, of meaner birth,

Who in that divinest spell
Dare not hope to join on earth,

Give us grace to listen well.

But should thankless silence seal
Lips that might half-heaven reveal-
Should bards in idol-hymns profane
The sacred soul-enthralling strain,
(As in this bad world below

Noblest things find vilest using,)
Then, thy power and mercy show,

In vile things noble breath infusing.

Then waken into sound divine
The very pavement of thy shrine,
Till we, like heaven's star-sprinkled floor,
Faintly give back what we adore.
Childlike though the voices be,

And untunable the parts,
Thou wilt own the minstrelsy,

If it flow from childlike hearts.

TYRE of the farther west! be thou too warned,

Whose eagle wings thine own green world o'erspread, Touching two oceans : wherefore hast thou scorned

Thy fathers' God, O proud and full of bread ?

Why lies the cross unhonored on thy ground,

While in mid-air thy stars and arrows flaunt?
That sheaf of darts, will it not fall unbound,

Except, disrobed of thy vain earthly vaunt,
Thou bring it to be blessed where saints and angels

haunt?

The holy seed, by Heaven's peculiar grace,

Is rooted here and there in thy dark woods ; But many a rank weed round it grows apace,

And Mammon builds beside thy mighty floods, O'ertopping nature, braving nature's God;

Oh, while thou yet hast room, fair, fruitful land,
Ere war and want have stained thy virgin sod,

Mark thee a place on high, a glorious stand,
Whence truth her sign may make o'er forest, lake,

and strand.

Eastward, this hour, perchance thou turn'st thine ear,

Listening if haply with the surging sea, Blend sounds of ruin from a land once dear

To thee and Heaven. O trying hour for thee ! Tyre mocked when Salem fell; where now is Tyre ?

Heaven was against her. Nations thick as waves
Burst o'er her walls, to ocean doomed and fire ;

And now the tideless water idly laves
Her towers, and lone sands heap her crowned mer-

chants' graves.