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النشر الإلكتروني

To night the charmed number 's told.

"Twice have I come for thee," it said.

"Once more, and none shall thee behold.

Come! live one, to the dead !”—

So hears his soul, and fears the coming night;
Yet sick and weary of the soft, calm light.

Again he sits within that room;
All day he leans at that still board;

None to bring comfort to his gloom,

Or speak a friendly word.

Weaken'd with fear, lone, haunted by remorse,

Poor, shatter'd wretch, there waits he that pale horse.

Not long he'll wait.—Where now are gone

Peak, citadel, and tower, that stood

Beautiful, while the west sun shone,

And bathed them in his flood

Of airy glory?-Sudden darkness fell;
And down they sank, peak, tower, and citadel.

The darkness, like a dome of stone,

Ceils up the heavens.—'Tis hush as death

All but the ocean's dull, low moan.

How hard Lee draws his breath!

He shudders as he feels the working Power.

Arouse thee, Lee! up! man thee for thine hour I

'Tis close at hand: for there, once more,
The burning ship. Wide sheets of flame
And shafted fire she show'd before;

Twice thus she hither came :

But now she rolls a naked hulk, and throws

A wasting light; then, settling, down she goes.

And where she sank, up slowly came
The Spectre-Horse from out the sea.

And there he stands! His pale sides flame.
He'll meet thee shortly, Lee.

He treads the waters as a solid floor:

He's moving on. Lee waits him at the door.

They've met." I know thou com'st for me,"

Lee's spirit to the spectre said—

"I know that I must go with thee

Take me not to the dead.

It was not I alone that did the deed !"

Dreadful the eye of that still, spectral steed!

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In that fixed eye, which holds him fast.

How still they stand !—that man and horse.

-Thine hour is almost past."

"O, spare me," cries the wretch, "thou fearful one!"

-"My time is full-I must not go alone."

"I'm weak and faint. O, let me stay !"

-“Nay, murderer, rest nor stay for thee !"
The horse and man are on their way;

He bears him to the sea.

Hark! how the spectre breathes through this still night!

See, from his nostrils streams a deathly light!

He's on the beach; but stops not there,

He's on the sea!-Lee, quit the horse!

Lee struggles hard.-'Tis mad despair!--
'Tis vain! The spirit-corse

Holds him by fearful spell ;-he cannot leap.
Within that horrid light he rides the deep.

It lights the sea around their track-
The curling comb, and dark steel wave:
There, yet, sits Lee the spectre's back—

Gone! gone! and none to save!

They're seen no more; the night has shut them in.
May heaven have pity on thee, man of sin

The earth has wash'd away its stain.
The seal'd-up sky is breaking forth,

Mustering its glorious hosts again

From the far south and north.

The climbing moon plays on the rippling sea.
-O, whither on its waters rideth Lee?

IMMORTALITY.

Is this thy prison-house, thy grave, then, Love?
And doth death cancel the great bond that holds
Commingling spirits? Are thoughts that know no bounds,
But, self-inspired, rise upwards, searching out
The Eternal Mind-the Father of all thought—
Are they become mere tenants of a tomb?—
Dwellers in darkness, who the illuminate realms
Of uncreated light have visited and lived ?—
Lived in the dreadful splendor of that throne,
Which One, with gentle hand the vail of flesh
Lifting, that hung 'twixt man and it, revealed
In glory?—throne, before which, even now,
Our souls, moved by prophetic power, bow down,
Rejoicing, yet at their own natures awed?—
Souls that Thee know by a mysterious sense,
Thou awful, unseen Presence-are they quenched.
Or burn they on, hid from our mortal eyes
By that bright day which ends not; as the sun
His robe of light flings round the glittering stars?

And with our frames do perish all our loves?
Do those that took their root and put forth buds,
And their soft leaves unfolded in the warmth
Of mutual hearts, grow up and live in beauty,
Then fade and fall, like fair unconscious flowers?
Are thoughts and passions that to the tongue give speech,

And make it send forth winning harmonies,-
That to the cheek do give its living glow,
And vision in the eye the soul intense
With that for which there is no utterance-
Are these the body's accidents?—no more?—
To live in it, and when that dies, go out
Like the burnt taper's flame?

O, listen, man !

A voice within us speaks that startling word, "Man, thou shalt never die !"

Celestial voices

Hymn it unto our souls: according harps,
By angel fingers touched when the mild stars
Of morning sang together, sound forth still
The song of our great immortality:

Thick clustering orbs, and this our fair domain,

The tall, dark mountains, and the deep-toned seas,
Join in this solemn, universal song.

O, listen, ye, our spirits; drink it in

From all the air! 'Tis in the gentle moonlight;
'Tis floating 'midst day's setting glories; Night,
Wrapped in her sable robe, with silent step
Comes to our bed, and breathes it in our ears.
Night, and the dawn, bright day, and thoughtful eve,

All time, all bounds, the limitless expanse,

As one vast mystic instrument, are touched

By an unseen, living Hand, and conscious chords

Quiver with joy in this great jubilee.

The dying hear it; and as sounds of earth

Grow dull and distant, wake their passing souls

To mingle in this heavenly harmony.

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