Within a heart of earthy mould,
As much of heaven as heart can hold,
Nor through eternity grows cold:
This was that Mother's Love.
THE GOD of Nature and of Grace
In all his works appears;
His goodness through the earth we trace,
His grandeur in the spheres.
Behold this fair and fertile globe,
By Him in wisdom plann'd;
"Twas He who girded, like a robe,
The ocean round the land.
Lift to the firmament your eye,
Thither his path pursue;
His glory, boundless as the sky,
O'erwhelms the wondering view.
He bows the heavens-the mountains stand
A highway for their God;
He walks amidst the desert land,
-'Tis Eden where He trod.
The forests in His strength rejoice;
Hark! on the evening breeze,
As once of old, the LORD GOD's voice
Is heard among the trees.
Here on the hills He feeds his herds,
His flocks on yonder plains:
His praise is warbled by the birds;
-Oh! could we catch their strains!
-Mount with the lark, and bear our song Up to the gates of light,
Or with the nightingale prolong
Our numbers through the night!
In every stream his bounty flows,
Diffusing joy and wealth;
In every breeze his spirit blows,
-The breath of life and health.
His blessings fall in plenteous showers
Upon the lap of earth,
That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers,
And rings with infant mirth.
If God hath made this world so fair,
Where sin and death abound,
How beautiful beyond compare
Will Paradise be found!
WHERE are ye with whom in life I started,
Dear companions of my golden days?
Ye are dead, estranged from me, or parted,
-Flown, like morning clouds, a thousand ways.
Where art thou, in youth my friend and brother,
Yea, in soul my friend and brother still?
Heaven received thee, and on earth none other
Can the void in my lorn bosom fill.
Where is she, whose looks were love and gladness?
-Love and gladness I no longer see!
She is gone; and, since that hour of sadness,
Nature seems her sepulchre to me.
Where am I?-life's current faintly flowing,
Brings the welcome warning of release;
Struck with death, ah! whither am I going?
All is well,-my spirit parts in peace.
THE REIGN OF SPRING.
WHO loves not Spring's voluptuous hours,
The carnival of birds and flowers?
Yet who would choose, however dear,
That Spring should revel all the year?
-Who loves not Summer's splendid reign,
The bridal of the earth and main ?
Yet who would choose, however bright,
A Dog-day noon without a night?
-Who loves not Autumn's joyous round,
When corn, and wine, and oil abound?
Yet who would choose, however gay,
A year of unrenew'd decay?
-Who loves not Winter's awful form?
The sphere-born music of the storm?
Yet who would choose, how grand soever,
The shortest day to last for ever?
'Twas in that age renown'd, remote, When all was true that Esop wrote;
And in that land of fair Ideal,
Where all that poets dream is real;
Upon a day of annual state,
The Seasons met in high debate.
There blush'd young Spring in maiden pride,
Blithe Summer look'd a gorgeous bride,
Staid Autumn moved with matron-grace,
And beldame Winter pursed her face.
Dispute grew wild; all talk'd together;
The four at once made wondrous weather;
Nor one (whate'er the rest had shown)
Heard any reason but her own;
While each (for nothing else was clear)
Claim'd the whole circle of the year.
Spring, in possession of the field,
Compell'd her sisters soon to yield:
They part,-resolved elsewhere to try
A twelvemonth's empire of the sky;
And, calling off their airy legions,
Alighted in adjacent regions.
Spring o'er the eastern campaign smiled,
Fell Winter ruled the northern wild,
Summer pursued the sun's red car,
But Autumn loved the twilight star.
As Spring parades her new domain,
Love, Beauty, Pleasure, hold her train;
Her footsteps wake the flowers beneath,
That start, and blush, and sweetly breathe;
Her gales on nimble pinions rove,
And shake to foliage every grove;
Her voice, in dell and thicket heard,
Cheers on the nest the mother-bird;
The ice-lock'd streams, as if they felt
Her touch, to liquid diamond melt;
The lambs around her bleat and play;
The serpent flings his slough away,
And shines in orient colours dight,
A flexile ray of living light.
Nature unbinds her wintry shroud,
(As the soft sunshine melts the cloud,)
With infant gambols sports along,
Bounds into youth, and soars in song.
The morn impearls her locks with dew,
Noon spreads a sky of boundless blue,
The rainbow spans the evening scene,
The night is silent and serene,
Save when her lonely minstrel wrings
The heart with sweetness while he sings.
-Who would not wish, unrivall'd here,
That Spring might frolic all the year?
Three months are fled, and still she reigns, Exulting queen o'er hills and plains; The birds renew their nuptial vow, Nestlings themselves are lovers now;
Fresh broods each bending bough receives,
Till feathers far outnumber leaves;
But kites in circles swim the air,
And sadden music to despair.
The stagnant pools, the quaking bogs,
Teem, croak, and crawl with hordes of frogs;
The matted woods, th' infected earth,
Are venomous with reptile-birth;
Armies of locusts cloud the skies;
With beetles hornets, gnats with flies,
Interminable warfare wage,
And madden heaven with insect-rage.
The flowers are wither'd ;-sun nor dew Their fallen glories shall renew;
The flowers are wither'd;—germ nor seed
Ripen in garden, wild, or mead:
The corn-fields shoot:-their blades, alas!
Run riot in luxuriant grass.
The tainted flocks, the drooping kine,
In famine of abundance pine,
Where vegetation, sour, unsound,
And loathsome, rots and rankles round;
Nature with nature seems at strife;
Nothing can live but monstrous life
By death engender'd ;-food and breath
Are turn'd to elements of death;
And where the soil his victims strew,
Corruption quickens them anew.
But ere the year was half expired,
Spring saw her folly, and retired;
Yoked her light chariot to a breeze,
And mounted to the Pleiades ;
Content with them to rest or play
Along the calm nocturnal way;
Till, heaven's remaining circuit run,
They meet the pale hybernal sun,
And, gaily mingling in his blaze,
Hail the true dawn of vernal days.
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