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COMPOSED ON THE EVE OF THE MARRIAGE OF A
What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,
keep pace With gentleness, in that becoming way Will thank you. Faultless does the Maid
appear; No disproportion in her soul, no strife: 10
But, when the closer view of wedded life
FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHAEL ANGELO.
Yes! hope may with my strong desire keep
pace, And I be undeluded, unbetrayed; For if of our affections none finds grace In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God
made The world which we inhabit? Better plea 5
Love cannot have than that in loving thee
With beauty, which is varying every hour; But in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power Of outward change, there blooms a deathless
flower, That breathes on earth the air of paradise.
FROM THE SAME.
No mortal object did these eyes behold
Beyond the visible world she soars to seek
FROM THE SAME. TO THE SUPREME BEING.
The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed
Unless Thou shew to us thine own true way No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead. Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my
mind By which such virtue may in me he bred 10 That in thy holy footsteps I may tread; The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind, That I may have the power to sing of Thee, And sound thy praises everlastiDglv.
Surpbised by joy—impatient as the Wind
power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss!—That thought's
return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, 10 Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
xxvin. 1. Methotjght I saw the footsteps of a throne Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did
shroud— Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
cloud, "Thou art our king, 0 Death! to thee we
groan." Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one 1 o Sleeping alone within a mossy cave, With her face up to heaven; that seemed to
have Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone; A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
Even so for me a Vision sanctified
The sway of Death; long ere mine eyes had
seen Thy countenance—the still rapture of thy
mien— When thou, dear Sister! wert become Death's
Bride: No trace of pain or languor could abide 5
That change:—age on thy brow was smoothed—.
thy cold Wan cheek at once was privileged to unfold A loveliness to living youth denied. Oh! if within me hope should e'er decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend! too faintly
Then may that heaven-revealing smile of thine, The bright assurance, visibly return:
And let my spirit in that power divine Kejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: 5
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder—everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me
here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, 1 o Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year; And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.
Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must
go? Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day, Festively she puts forth in trim array; Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow r1 What boots the inquiry ?—Neither friend nor
She cares for; let her travel where she may,