THE MEDITATION.

Ir must be done, my soul, but 'tis a strange,
A dismal, and mysterious change,

When thou shalt leave this tenement of clay,
And to an unknown somewhere wing away;

When time shall be eternity, and thou

Shalt be thou know'st not what, and live thou know'st not how.

Amazing state! No wonder that we dread

To think of death, or view the dead. Thou'rt all wrapped up in clouds, as if to thee Our very knowledge had antipathy.

Death could not a more sad retinue find

Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind.

Some courteous ghost, tell this great secresy,
What 'tis you are, and we must be?

You warn us of approaching death, and why
May we not know from you what 'tis to die?
But you, having shot the gulf, delight to see
Succeeding souls plunge in with like uncertainty.

When life's close knot, by writ from destiny,
Disease shall cut, or age untie ;

When after some delays, some dying strife,
The soul stands shivering on the ridge of life;
With what a dreadful curiosity

Does she launch out into the sea of vast eternity!

So when the spacious globe was deluged o'er,
And lower holds could save no more,

On the utmost bough the astonished sinners stood,
And viewed the advances of the encroaching flood;
O'ertopped at length by the element's increase,
With horror they resigned to the untried abyss.

NORRIS.

HYMN TO DARKNESS.

HAIL, thou most sacred, venerable thing!
What muse is worthy thee to sing?

Thee, from whose pregnant, universal womb,
All things, even light, thy rival, first did come.
What dares he not attempt that sings of thee,
Thou first and greatest mystery?

Who can the secrets of thy essence tell?
Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible.

Before great Love this monument did raise,
This ample theatre of praise;

Before the folding circles of the sky
Were tuned by him who is all harmony;
Before the morning stars their hymn began,
Before the council held for man,

Before the birth of either time or place,

Thou reign'st unquestioned monarch in the empty space.

Thy native lot thou didst to light resign,
But still half of the globe is thine.

Here with a quiet, but yet awful hand,
Like the best emperors thou dost command.
To thee the stars above their brightness owe,
And mortals their repose below;

Y

To thy protection fear and sorrow flee,

And those that weary are of light, find rest in thee.

Though light and glory be the Almighty's throne,
Darkness is his pavilion;

From that his radiant beauty, but from thee
He has his terror and his majesty:

Thus, when he first proclaimed his sacred law,
And would his rebel subjects awe,

Like princes on some great solemnity,

He appeared in's robes of state, and clad himself with thee.

The blessed above do thy sweet umbrage prize,

When, cloyed with light, they veil their eyes;

The vision of the Deity is made

More sweet and beatific by thy shade;

But we, poor tenants of this orb below,

Don't here thy excellences know

Till death our understandings does improve,

And then our wiser ghosts thy silent night-walks love.

But thee I now admire, thee would I choose

For my religion, or my muse.

"Tis hard to tell whether thy reverend shade
Has more good votaries or poets made:
From thy dark caves were inspirations given,

And from thick groves went vows to Heaven.
Hail, then, thou muse's and devotion's spring,
'Tis just we should adore; 'tis just we should thee sing.
NORRIS.

CHARITY.

DID Sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue
Than ever man pronounced, or angels sung:
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define!
And had I power to give that knowledge birth
In all the speeches of the babbling earth:
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire
To weary tortures and rejoice in fire:
Or had I faith like that which Israel saw
When Moser gave them miracles and law :
Yet, gracious Charity! indulgent guest,
Were not thy power exerted in my breast,
Those speeches would send up unheeded prayer,
That scorn of life would be but wild despair;
A symbol's sound were better than my voice-
My faith were form, my eloquence were noise.
Charity decent, modest, easy, kind,

Softens the high, and rears the abject mind:
Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide
Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride.
Not soon provoked, she easily forgives,
And much she suffers as she much believes-
Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives,
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives:
Lays the rough path of peevish nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heaven.

Each other gift, which God on man bestows,
Its proper bounds and due restriction knows:
To one fixed purpose dedicates its power,
And finishing its act, exists no more.

Thus, in obedience to what heaven decrees,

Knowledge shall fail and Prophecy shall cease;
But lasting Charity's more ample sway,

Nor bound by time nor subject to decay,

In happy triumph shall for ever live,

And endless good diffuse and endless praise receive. As through the artist's intervening glass

Our eye observes the distant planets pass,

A little we discover, but allow

That more remains unseen than art can show:

So, whilst our mind its knowledge would improve,
(Its feeble eye intent on things above)
High as we may, we lift our reason up,
By faith directed, and confirmed by hope;
Yet are we able only to survey

Dawning of beams and promises of day;

Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight,
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light.
But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispelled-

The sun shall soon be face to face beheld,

In all his robes, with all his glory on,

Seated sublime on his meridian throne.

Then constant faith and holy hope shall die,

One lost in certainty, and one in joy.
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity!
Triumphant sister, greatest of the three,
Thy office and thy nature still the same,

Lasting thy lamp, and unconsumed thy flame,
Shalt still survive

Shalt stand before the host of heaven confest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.

PRIOR.