Lord of all being! where can Fancy fly,

To what far realms, unmeasured by Thine eye?
Where can we hide beneath Thy blazing sun,

Where dwell'st THOU not, the boundless, viewless One?
Shall Guilt couch down within the cavern's gloom,
And quivering, groaning, meditate her doom?
Or scale the mountains, where the whirlwinds rest,
And in the night-blast cool her fiery breast?
In vain, in vain, may guilt-stung Fancy fly,
Creation's mirror'd on Thy sleepless eye;
Within the cavern-gloom, Thine eye can see,
The sky-clad mountains lift their heads to Thee!
Thy Spirit rides upon the thunder-storms,
Dark'ning the skies into terrific forms!

Beams in the lightning, rocks upon the seas,
Roars in the blast, and whispers in the breeze;
In calm and storm, in Heaven and Earth Thou art,
Trace but Thy works-they bring Thee to the heart!

The fulness of Thy Presence who can see?
Man cannot live, great God! and look on Thee ;
Around thy form eternal lightnings glow,-
Thy voice appals the shuddering world below.

Oh! Egypt felt Thee when, by signs unscared,
To mock Thy might, the rebel monarch dared;
Thou look'dst-and Ocean sever'd at the glance !
Undaunted, still the charioteers advance;
Thou look'dst again—she clash'd her howling waves,
And gorg'd the tyrants in unfathon'd graves!

On Sinai's mountain, when thy glory came
In rolls of thunder, and in clouds of flame;
There, while volcanic smoke Thy throne o'ercast,
And the mount shrunk beneath the trumpet-blast,
How did Thy Presence smite all Israel's eye!
How dreadful were the gleams of Deity!

There is a voiceless eloquence on Earth,
Telling of Him who gave her wonders birth;
And long may I remain the adoring child
Of nature's majesty, sublime or wild;

Hill, flood, and forest, mountain, rock, and sea,
All take their terrors and their charms from Thee,
From Thee, whose hidden but supreme controul
Moves through the world, a universal soul."

pp. 18-23.

Scarcely inferior is the following description of the Seasons:

"When Day hath roll'd into his rosy bower, And Twilight comes-the Poet's pensive hour;

When dream-like murmurs from the mazy wind
Romantic glide into his gentle mind;

Then Nature's beauty, cloth'd with dewy light,
Melts on the heart, like music through the Night.

And, not in vain, voluptuous Eventide,
Thy dappled clouds along th' horizon glide,

For, oh! while heaven and earth grow dumb with bliss,
In homage to an hour divine as this,

How sweet, upon yon mountain's azure brow,
While ruddy sun-beams gild the crags below,
To stand, and mark, with meditative view,
Where the far ocean faints in hazy blue,
While on the bosom of the midway deep
The emerald waves in flashing dimples leap;
Here, as we view the burning god of time,
Wrapp'd in a shroud of glory, sink sublime,
Thoughts of immortal beauty spring to birth,
And woft the soul beyond the dreams of earth.

And who hath gazed upon the bright-wing'd Morn,
Breezy and fresh, from out the ocean born ;
Her rich-wove cloud-wreath's, and the rainbow hues
From heaven reflected on Creation's views;
Or mark'd the wonders of a day depart,
Nor felt a heaven-caught influence at his heart?
Through all the seasons' varying course of love,
Who hath not traced the Spirit from above?
The howl of winter in the leafless wood,
The sleepy snow-storm, and the whelming flood,
Or Summer's flush, or Autumn, robed in grey,
Whirling the red leaves round her bleak-worn way,
All tell one tale of Heaven. But thou, young Spring,
Glad as the wild bee on his glossy wing,

Bedeck'd with bloom, and breathing life around,

Within thy bosom, charms supreme abound." pp. . 29-31.

There is something as soft and sweet as the moonlight of our own southern sky in the following picture of it, which recalled to us Pope's gorgeous translation of the lines in the oth Iliad on the same subject:

"And when, oblivious of the world, we stray
At dead of night along some noiseless way,
How the heart mingles with the moon-lit hour,
As if the starry heavens suffused a power!
See! not a cloud careers yon pensive sweep,
A waveless sea of azure, still as sleep;
Full in her dreamy light, the Moon presides,
Shrin'd in a halo, mellowing as she rides;

:

And far around, the forest and the stream
Bathe in the beauty of her emerald beam:
The lull'd winds, too, are sleeping in their caves,
No stormy murmurs roll upon the waves;
Nature is hush'd, as if her works adored,
Still'd by the presence of her living Lord!

And now, while through the ocean-mantling haze
A dizzy chain of yellow lustre plays,

And moonlight loveliness hath veil'd the land,
Go, stranger, muse thou by the wave-worn strand :
Cent'ries have glided o'er the balanc'd earth,
Myriads have bless'd, and myriads cursed their birth;
Still, yon sky-beacons keep a dimless glare,
Unsullied as the God who thron'd them there!
Though swelling earthquakes heave the astounded world,
And king and kingdom from their pride are hurl'd,
Sublimely calm, they run their bright career,
Unheedful of the storms and changes here.
We want no hymn to hear, or pomp to see,
For all around is deep divinity!

The soul aspiring pants its source to mount,
As streams meander level with their fount;
While other years unroll their cloudy tide,
And with them all the bliss they once supplied!
Oh! if belov'd ones, from their viewless sphere,
May witness warm Affection's faithful tear,
At this deep hour, they hear the mourner's sigh,
And waft a blessing from their homes on high!

pp. 37-39.

The second part of the Poem is not, by any means, equal to the first it sins more both by positive faults and by vapid mediocrity. We shall close our extracts, therefore, with the following picture of the Last Day.

Ages has awful Time been trav❜lling on,
And all his children to one tomb have gone;
The varied wonders of the peopled earth,
In equal turn, have gloried in their birth:
We live, and toil, we triumph, and decay,-
Thus age on age rolls unperceiv'd away;
And thus 'twill be, till heaven's last thunders roar,
And Time and Nature shall exist no more.

ད

O! say, what Fancy, though endow'd sublime,
Can picture truly that tremendous time,
When the last sun shall blaze upon the sea,
And Earth be dash'd into Eternity!

A cloudy mantle will enwrap that sun,

Whose face so many worlds have gaz'd upon;
The placid moon, beneath whose pensive beam
We all have loved to wander and to dream,
Dyed into blood, shall glare from pole to pole,
And light the airy tempests as they roll;

And those sweet stars, that, like familiar eyes,
Are wont to smile a welcome from the skies,
Thick as the hail-drops, from their depths will bound,
And far terrific meteors flash around;

But while the skies are scatter'd by the war

Of planet, moon, rent-cloud, and down-shot star,
Stupendous wreck below-a burning world!

As if the flames of hell were on the winds unfurl'd!

Around the horizon wheels one furnace blaze,
Streaking the black heavens with gigantic rays;
Now bursting into wizard phantoms bright,
And now immingled in a sea of light;

Till racing hurricanes unrol on high,

And whirl the fire-clouds quiv'ring through the sky; Like sea-foam flung upon a mountain-side,

When maniac winds upon the surges ride.

And, lo! the Sea: along her ruin'd shore The white waves gallop with delirious roar, Till Ocean, in her agonizing throe,

Bounds, swells, and sinks, like heaping hills of snow! While downward vollied crags and torrents sweep, And wildly mingle with the blaze-lit deep.

And now, while shadowy worlds career around, While mountains tremble, and while earthquakes sound, While waves and winds rush roaring to the fray, Who shall abide the horrors of the day?

How shall we turn our terror-stricken eye,

To

gaze upon the fire-throned DEITY?

Hark! from the deep of heaven, a trumpet sound Thunders the dizzy universe around;

From north to south, from east to west, it rolls,
A blast that summons all created souls;
And swift as ripples rise upon the deep,
The dead awaken from their dismal sleep:
The Sea has heard it;-coiling up with dread,
Myriads of mortals flash from out her bed!
The graves fly open, and with awful strife,
The dust of ages startles into life!

All who have breath'd, or mov'd, or seen, or felt;
All they around whose cradles Kingdoms knelt :
Tyrants and warriors, who career'd in blood;

The great and mean, the glorious and the good,
Are raised from every isle, and land, and tomb,
To hear the changeless and eternal doom.

But while the universe is wrapt in fire,
Ere yet the splendid ruin shall expire,
Beneath a canopy of flame behold,
With starry banners at his feet unroll'd

Earth's Judge: around seraphic minstrels throng,
Breathing o'er golden harps celestial song;

While melodies aërial and sublime
Weave a wild death-dirge o'er departing Time.

Imagination! furl thy wings of fire,
And on Eternity's dread brink expire;
Vain would thy red and raging eye behold
Visions of Immortality unroll'd!

The last, the fiery chaos hath begun,

Quench'd is the moon! and blacken'd is the sun!
The stars have bounded through the airy roar;
Crush'd lie the rocks, and mountains are no more;
The deep unbosom'd, with tremendous gloom

Yawns on the ruin like Creation's tomb!" pp. 107-112.

Besides, "The Omnipresence of the Deity," this little volume contains some minor poems that are not without merit. We have not space for more than the following specimens:

CESAR ON THE BANKS OF THE RUBICON.

"Amid the roar of revelry

Within th' Alesian dome,

He moved, with glad, but musing eye,

The vanquisher of Rome!

His spirit mingled with the gay,

And flash'd the gloom of war away.

And there he joyed, till darkling Night

Threw round her dewy veil,

And mist wreath'd round each Alpine height
That beetled o'er the dale;

Then Cæsar rose, his bosom fraught

With incommunicable thought.

And swiftly sped the hero on,

Along his shadowy road;
And reach'd where roll'd the Rubicon,
That from the mountains flow'd;
And there his giant thought's control
Chain'd down a dauntless Cæsar's soul.