That head in hoary honours dressed —

A pillar in his place

That blooming pair whom love has blessed With such peculiar grace—

These youths and maids — a fair array ;

And does he beckon these away?

There is a voice, familiar now,

And soon must this be hushed!

And must that high and thoughtful brow By death's rude hand be crushed? Beneath these stones that head shall hide,

With one to slumber at his side.

The vision fades;-but others rise,
Too bright for mortal gaze;—

A vista opens in the skies

'Tis but a moment's blaze,

And straight the wondrous scene departs, For still the veil is on our hearts.

Hull, 1821.

SOLILOQUY.

HERE'S a beautiful earth, and a wonderful sky,
And to see them God gives us a heart and an eye;
Nor leaves us untouched by the pleasures they yield,
Like the fowl of the heaven, or the beasts of the field.

The soul though encumbered with sense and with sin,
Can range through her own mystic chambers within ;
Then soar like the eagle, to regions of light,
And dart wondrous thoughts to the stars of the night.

Yea more, it is gifted with vision so keen

As to know the unknown, and to see the unseen;

To glance at eternity's numberless days,

Till dazzled, confounded, and lost in the maze.

Nor will this suffice it;-O wonderful germ
Of infinite blessing vouchsafed to a worm!
It quickens, it rises with boundless desires,
And heaven is the lowest to which it aspires.

Such, such is the soul, though bewildered and dark; A vital, etherial, unquenchable spark :

Thus onward and upward by nature it tends;— Then wherefore descends it? ah! whither descends?

Soon droops its light pinion, borne down by a gust,
It flutters, it faulters;-it cleaves to the dust;
Then feeds upon ashes-deceived and astray;
And fastens and clings to the perishing clay.

For robes that too proud were the lilies to wear—-
For food we divide with the fowls of the air-
For joy that just sparkles, and then disappears—
We drop from heaven's gate, to this valley of tears.

How tranquil and blameless the pleasures it sought, While it rested within the calm region of thought! How fraught with disgust, and how sullied with woe, Is all that detains and beguiles it below!

O Thou who, when silent and senseless it lay,
Didst breathe into life the inanimate clay,
Now nourish and quicken the languishing fire,
And fan to a flame that shall never expire!

1823.

Yet

say not-who shall mount on high,

To bring him from above?

For lo! the Lord is always nigh

The children of his love.

The Saviour whom I long have sought, And would, but cannot see

And is he here? O wondrous thought! And will he dwell with me?

I ask not with my mortal eye
To view the vision bright?
I dare not see Thee, lest I die;
Yet Lord, restore my sight!

Give me to see Thee, and to feel

The mental vision clear:

The things unseen reveal! reveal!
And let me know them near.

I seek not fancy's glittering height,
That charmed my ardent youth;
But in thy light would see the light,
And learn thy perfect truth.

The gathering clouds of sense dispel,
That wrap my soul around;

In heavenly places make me dwell,

While treading earthly ground.