SAINTS DEPARTED.

LI.

REMOVAL.

DEAR sainted friends, I call not you,

To share the joy serene

Which flows upon me from the view Of crag and steep ravine.

Ye, on that loftier mountain old,
Safe lodged in Eden's cell,
Whence run the rivers four, behold
This earth, as ere it fell.

Or, when ye think of those who stay,
Still tried by the world's fight,

"Tis but in looking for the day
Which shall the lost unite.

Ye rather, elder Spirits strong!
Who from the first have trod

This nether scene, man's race among,

The while ye live to God.

Ye hear, and ye can sympathize—

Vain thought! those eyes of fire

Pierce through God's works, and duly prize;
Ye smile when we admire.

Ah, Saviour Lord! with Thee my heart
Angel nor Saint shall share;

To Thee 'tis known, for man Thou art,

To soothe each tumult there.

LII.

REST.

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THEY are at rest:

We may not stir the heaven of their repose
By rude invoking voice, or prayer addrest
In waywardness to those

Who in the mountain grots of Eden lie,

And hear the fourfold river as it murmurs by.

d.

They hear it sweep

In distance down the dark and savage vale ;
But they at rocky bed, or current deep,

Shall never more grow pale;

They hear, and meekly muse, as fain to know

How long untired, unspent, that giant stream shall flow.

And soothing sounds

Blend with the neighbouring waters as they glide;
Posted along the haunted garden's bounds,
Angelic forms abide,

Echoing, as words of watch, o'er lawn and grove
The verses of that hymn which seraphs chant above.

d.

LIII.

KNOWLEDGE.

WEEP not for me;

Be blithe as wont, nor tinge with gloom
The stream of love that circles home,
Light hearts and free!

Joy in the gifts Heaven's bounty lends;
Nor miss my face, dear friends!

I still am near;

Watching the smiles I prized on earth,

Your converse mild, your blameless mirth;
Now too I hear,

Of whispered sounds the tale complete,
Low prayers and musings sweet.

A sea before

The throne is spread; its pure, still glass
Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass.

We, on its shore,

Share in the bosom of our rest,

God's knowledge, and are blest!

LIV.

PRAYER.

WHILE Moses on the mountain lay,
Night after night, and day by day,
Till forty suns were gone,
Unconscious, in the presence bright,
Of lustrous day and starry night,
As though his soul had flitted quite

From earth, and Eden won;

d.

The pageant of a kingdom vast,
And things unutterable, past

Before the Prophet's eye;

Dread shadows of the Eternal Throne,
The fount of Life, and Altar-stone,

Pavement, and them that tread thereon,
And those who worship nigh.

But lest he should his own forget,
Who in the vale were struggling yet,
A sadder vision came,
Announcing all that guilty deed

Of idol rite, that in her need

He for the Church might intercede,

And stay Heaven's rising flame.

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