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The boat is hauled upon the hardening sand,
The mist is gathering o'er the dim morass,
The kine are couching on the daisied grass, And in their stalls the champing horses stand. No plash of brine along the darkling strand,
No light winds play the reed-pipes as they pass ;
The moonlit deep is glittering like glass,
O balmy hours of silver sheen and dew!
Shall nought belie you save this labouring breast-The soul alone to Nature be untrue,
And still of what she hath not go in quest ? Just now ye spake. Ah, speak those words anew,
• Wait, weary heart ; soon thou shalt also rest.'
ABBEY ! for ever smiling pensively,
How like a thing of Nature dost thou rise
Amid her loveliest works ! as if the skies, Clouded with grief, were arched thy roof to be, And the tall trees were copied all from thee !
Mourning thy fortunes—while the waters dim
Flow like the memory of thy evening hymn, Beautiful in their sorrowing sympathy; As if they with a weeping sister wept, Winds name thy name! But thou, though sad,
art calm, And Time with thee his plighted troth hath kept ;
For harebells deck thy brow, and, at thy feet,
Where sleep the proud, the bee and redbreast meet, Mixing thy sighs with Nature's lonely psalm.
Hush-hush ! it is the charm of nothingness, –
A sweet estate wherein there is no sweet ;
A music true, though no vibrations beat; A passive mistress, cold and passionlessBestowing pot, yet having power to bless,
Until, in holy love, we kiss her feet.
O joy wherein no soul a friend may greet,
From forth whose wombwe sprang without a throe?
Art Thou the very Heaven whereto we go!
A SUNSET THOUGHT,
The sun is burning with intensest light
Behind yon grove ; and in the golden glow
Of unconsuming Fire, it doth show
In thinking that he reappears e'en now
To me, in the old Glory, and I bow
Yea! this whole world so vast, to Faith's clear eye,
Is but that burning Bush full of His Power, His Light, and Glory; not consumed thereby,
But made transparent: till in each least flower, Yea! in each smallest leaf, she can descry His Spirit shining through it visibly!
LONDON, AFTER MIDNIGHT.
SILENCE broods o'er the mighty Babylon ;