BY HENRY WARE, JR.
WITH what a stately and majestic step That glorious constellation of the north Treads its eternal circle! going forth Its princely way among the stars in slow And silent brightness. Mighty one, all hail! I joy to see thee on thy glowing path
Walk, like some stout and girded giant; stern, Unwearied, resolute, whose toiling foot Disdains to loiter on its destined way. The other tribes forsake their midnight track, And rest their weary orbs beneath the wave; But thou dost never close thy burning eye, Nor stay thy steadfast step. But on, still on, While systems change, and suns retire, and worlds Slumber and wake, thy ceaseless march proceeds. The near horizon tempts to rest in vain. Thou, faithful sentinel, dost never quit Thy long-appointed watch; but, sleepless still, Dost guard the fix'd light of the universe, And bid the north for ever know its place. Ages have witness'd thy devoted trust, Unchanged, unchanging. When the sons of God Sent forth that shout of joy which rang through heaven,
And echo'd from the outer spheres that bound
The illimitable universe, thy voice
Join'd the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs The glad cry sounded, swelling to His praise, Who thus had cast another sparkling gem, Little, but beautiful, amid the crowd
Of splendours that enrich his firmament.
As thou art now, so wast thou then the same. Ages have roll'd their course, and time grown
The earth has gather'd to her womb again, And yet again, the myriads that were born Of her uncounted, unremember'd tribes. The seas have changed their beds; the eternal hills
Have stoop'd with age; the solid continents Have left their banks; and man's imperial works- The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, which had flung
Their haughty honours in the face of heaven, As if immortal-have been swept away: Shatter'd and mouldering, buried and forgot. But time has shed no dimness on thy front, Nor touch'd the firmness of thy tread; youth,
And beauty still are thine; as clear, as bright, As when the almighty Former sent thee forth, Beautiful offspring of his curious skill,
To watch earth's northern beacon, and proclaim The eternal chorus of eternal Love.
I wonder as I gaze. That stream of light,
Undimm'd, unquench'd-just as I see it nowHas issued from those dazzling points through
That go back far into eternity.
Exhaustless flood! for ever spent, renew'd For ever! Yea, and those refulgent drops, Which now descend upon my lifted eye, Left their far fountain twice three years ago. While those wing'd particles, whose speed out-
The flight of thought, were on their way, the earth Compass'd its tedious circuit round and round, And, in the extremes of annual change, beheld Six autumns fade, six springs renew their bloom. So far from earth those mighty orbs revolve! So vast the void through which their beams de- scend !
Yes, glorious lamp of God! He may have quench'd
Your ancient flames, and bid eternal night Rest on your spheres; and yet no tidings reach This distant planet. Messengers still come Laden with your far fire, and we may seem To see your lights still burning; while their blaze But hides the black wreck of extinguish'd realms, Where anarchy and darkness long have reign'd.
Yet what is this, which to the astonish'd mind Seems measureless, and which the baffled thought Confounds? A span, a point, in those domains Which the keen eye can traverse. Seven stars
Dwell in that brilliant cluster, and the sight Embraces all at once; vet each from each Recedes as far as each of them from earth. And every star from every other burns No less remote. From the profound of heaven, Untravell'd even in thought, keen, piercing rays Dart through the void, revealing to the sense Systems and worlds unnumber'd. Take the glass And search the skies. The opening skies pour down
Upon your gaze thick showers of sparkling fire; Stars, crowded, throng'd, in regions so remote, That their swift beams-the swiftest things that be-
Have travell'd centuries on their flight to earth. Earth, sun, and nearer constellations! what Are ye amid this infinite extent
And multitude of God's most infinite works! And these are suns! vast central, living fires, Lords of dependent systems, kings of worlds That wait as satellites upon their power,
And flourish in their smile.
Awake, my soul, Countless suns
Blaze round thee, leading forth their countless
Worlds in whose bosoms living things rejoice, And drink the bliss of being from the fount Of all-pervading Love. What mind can know, What tongue can utter all their multitudes! Thus numberless in numberless abodes!
Known but to thee, blessed Father! Thine they
Thy children, and thy care; and none o'erlook'd Of thee! No, not the humblest soul that dwells Upon the humblest globe, which wheels its
Amid the giant glories of the sky,
Like the mean mote that dances in the beam Amongst the mirror'd lamps, which fling Their wasteful splendour from the palace wall, None, none escape the kindness of thy care; All compass'd underneath thy spacious wing, Each fed and guided by thy powerful hand.
Tell me, ye splendid orbs! as from your throne
Ye mark the rolling provinces that own
Your sway, what beings fill those bright abodes? How form'd, how gifted? what their powers,
Their happiness, their wisdom? Do they bear The stamp of human nature? Or has GoD Peopled those purer realms with lovelier forms And more celestial minds? Does Innocence Still wear her native and untainted bloom? Or has Sin breathed his deadly blight abroad, And sow'd corruption in those fairy bowers? Has War trod o'er them with his foot of fire? And Slavery forged his chains; and Wrath, and
And sordid Selfishness, and cruel Lust
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