III.

And with thy starry eyes that weep
Their silent dews on flower and tree,
My heart shall solemn vigils keep—

My thoughts converse with thee;-
Upon whose glowing page expand
The revelations of the sky ;-
Which knowledge teach to every land,
Of man's high destiny.

IV.

For while thy mighty orbs of fire

(So" wildly bright" they seem to live) Feel not the beauty they inspire,

Nor see the light they give;

Even I, an atom of the earth,
Itself an atom 'midst the frame

Of nature-can inquire their birth,
And ask them whence they came.

V.

And oh! ye stars, whose distant bowers
Repose beneath the glowing lights

Of other suns and moons than ours-
Of other days and nights ;-

Have sin and sorrow wandered o'er

Each far-unknown-untravelled bourne,

Have ye, too, partings on the shore,

That never know return!

VI.

And eyes as here, that wake and weep
O'er vanished joys and faded blooms,-
And beams that (as in mockery) sleep
O'er dim and mouldering tombs ;-
And hopes, that for a moment weave
Their rainbow glories o'er the mind,—
Then melt in darkening clouds, and leave
But Memory's tears behind.

VII.

Vain guesses all—and all unknown
To what Creation's wonders tend,-

A mighty vision sweeping on

To some mysterious end ;—

Yet not in vain, these thoughts that steal

Through time and space-from earth to sky,

For they with still, small voice reveal

Our immortality!

MOUNT CARMEL.

BY T. K. HERVEY, ESQ.

I.

THE harp is hushed in Kedron's vale,
The river dwindled to a rill,

That haunts it-like an ancient tale, -
In dying whispers, still;

The wind, among the sedges, keeps

Some echoes of its broken lyre,

And wakes, at times, with sudden sweeps,
Thoughts of its former fire,—
Where Carmel's flowery summits rise,

To point the moral to the skies!

II.

My breast has learned, in other lands,

That moral, through its own deep glooms,

Lone-as yon lonely city stands,

Among her thousand tombs !*

* Jerusalem.

— Amid its mouldering wrecks and weeds
While memory-like that river,—sings,
Or-like the night-breeze in the reeds,-
Plays with its broken strings,
My spirit sits, with folded wing,
A sad but not unhappy thing!

III.

What if my loves-like yonder waves,'
That seek a dead and tideless sea,-
Have perished, in the place of graves,
That darkly waits for me!

What if no outlet of the earth,

Those dull and dreary waters own,
And time shall give no second birth
To dreams and wishes gone!
What though my fount of early joy,
Like Kedron's springs, be almost dry;

IV.

High o'er them-with its thousand flowers,—
Its precious crown of scent and bloom, -
Hope-like another Carmel,†-towers,
In sunshine and in gloom;

* The waters of the Jordan. The lake Asphaltites, or Dead Sea, into which they discharge themselves, is an inland lake, which has no issue.

+ Mount Carmel is covered with flowers, -the perfume of which, when the wind blows from shore, is borne far out to sea.

Flinging upon the wasted breast

Sweets born in climes more pure and high,
And pointing, with its lofty crest,

Beyond the starry sky,—

Where a new Jordan's waves shall gem

A statelier Jerusalem!

YSBYTTY CHURCH; NEAR PONT-YMYNACH.

FAR in the wild, beneath yon rocky brow,
Behold the fane; without, a tottering shell,
Within, a cave-like, melancholy cell,

Rude beams above, and ruder seats below,
And crevices that, more than window, show
The poverty and gloom. Yet here to dwell
Disdains not He, whose light ineffable
Shed from the cloud and fire a guardian glow
O'er Israel's camp, or on Moriah's height

(What time the Holy of Holies flamed in gold,
Reared by the gorgeous hand of Solomon)

Between the cherubim abode of old;

Or beamed on Patmos in the vision bright

Of emerald arch around the thunder-uttering throne.

H.