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Yet gently as the dews of night that gem,
And do not bend the harebell's slenderest stem.
"Daughter of Earth!" Ereenia cried, “alight;
This is thy place of rest, the Swerga, this;
Lo, here my bower of bliss!"

FROM KEHAMA.

O FORCE of faith! O strength of virtuous will!
Behold him in his endless martyrdom,
Triumphant still!

The curse still burning in his heart and brain,
And yet doth he remain

Patient the while, and tranquil, and content!
The pious soul hath framed unto itself

A second nature, to exist in pain

As in its own allotted element.

Such strength the will reveal'd had given
This holy pair, such influxes of grace,
That to their solitary resting place
They brought the peace of Heaven.

Yea, all around was hallow'd! Danger, fear,
Nor thought of evil ever entered here.

A charm was on the leopard when he came
Within the circle of that mystic glade;
Submiss he crouch'd before the heavenly maid,
And offer'd to her touch his speckled side :
Or with arch'd back erect, and bending head,
And eyes half-closed for pleasure, would he stand
Courting the pressure of her gentle hand.

FROM KEHAMA.

THEY sin who tell us Love can die:
With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.
Love is indestructible:

Its holy flame forever burneth;

From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth.

Too oft on earth a troubled guest,

At times deceived, at times opprest;

It here is tried and purified,

And hath in Heaven its perfect rest.
It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of Love is there.

Oh! when a mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,
Hath she not then for pains and fears,
The day of woe, the watchful night,
For all her sorrow, all her tears,
An over-payment of delight?

(Canto X.)

Thou hast been called, O Sleep! the friend

of woe;

But 'tis the happy that have called thee so.

FROM THALABA.

How beautiful is night!

A dewy freshness fills the silent air;

(Canto XV.)

No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven:

In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine

Rolls through the dark blue depths.

Beneath her steady ray

The desert circle spreads,

Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.
How beautiful is night!

FROM MADOC.

THOUGH in blue ocean seen

Blue, darkly, deeply, beautifully blue.

THE SOURCE OF THE GANGES.

NONE hath seen its secret fountain;
But on the top of Meru mountain,
Which rises o'er the hills of earth,

In light and clouds, it hath its mortal birth.
Earth seems that pinnacle to rear
Sublime above this worldly sphere.
Its cradle, and its altar, and its throne;

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