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While nations rage, my ravish'd sight
I lift to realms of peace and light:
I hear celestial voices sing

The praise of their immortal King.

Here would I sit, to peace consign'd,
And leave a troubled world behind,
Till angels waft me hence, to rest
In Paradise, among the blest;

With hermits there to taste the bliss,

Who walk'd with God in shades like this.

ΑΝΟΝ.

AM I sole?

Oh no, I feel Him; circumfus'd with God,
I hail Him not unconscious; and that voice
Of one, amidst the coolness of the trees
Walking, which Adam heard so deep, so dread,
I hear it now in spirit, still and small,
Whispering of wisdom, power, and love divine.
So may I ever hear it, midst the crowd,
Or midst the closet, breathing holy awe
Of sin, and zeal of duty, as with God!
Breathing what meek humility unfeigu'd,
What bright-eyed faith, what never-failing joy!

GRINFIELD.

O! that in unfetter'd union,
Spirit could with spirit blend ;
O! that in unseen communion,

Thought could hold the distant friend!

D

Who the secret can unravel,

Of the body's mystic guest?
Who knows how the soul may travel,
While unconsciously we rest?

While in pleasing thraldom lying,
Seal'd in slumbers deep it seems,
Far abroad it may be flying.

What is sleep? and what are dreams?
Earth, how narrow thy dominions,
And how slow the body's pace!
O! to range on eagle's pinions
Through illimitable space!

What is thought? In wild succession,
Whence proceeds the motley train?
What first stamps the vague impression
On the ever-active brain?

What is thought-and whither tending
Does the subtile phantom flee?
Does it, like a moon-beam ending,
Shine, then melt to vacancy?

Has a strange mysterious feeling,
Something shapeless, undefin'd,
O'er thy lonely musings stealing,
Ne'er impress'd thy pensive mind-
As if he, whose strong resemblance,
Fancy in that moment drew,
By coincident remembrance,

Knew your thoughts, and thought of you?

When at Mercy's footstool bending,
Thou hast felt a secret glow;

Faith and hope to heav'n ascending,
Love still lingering below;

Say, has ne'er the thought impress'd thee,
That thy friend might feel thy pray'r?
Or the wish at least possess'd thee,

He could then thy feeling share?

Who can tell? the fervent blessing-
Angels, did you hear it rise?
Do you thus, your love expressing,
Watch o'er human sympathies ?
Do ye some mysterious token
To the kindred bosom bear;
And to what the heart has spoken,
Wake a chord responsive there?

Laws, perhaps unknown, but certain,
Kindred spirits may control;

But what hand can lift the curtain,
And reveal the awful soul?
Dimly through life's vapours seeing,
Who but longs for light to break?
O this feverish dream of being!

When, my friend, shall we awake?

Yes, the hour, the hour is hasting,
Spirit shall with spirit blend ;
Fast mortality is wasting,

Then the secret all shall end.

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