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XVII. TO THE SAME.

For thou, a holy shepherdess and kind,
Through the pine forests, by the upland rills,
Didst roam to seek the children of the hills,
A wild neglected flock! to seek, and find,
And meekly win! there feeding each young mind
With balms of heavenly eloquence: not thine,
Daughter of Christ! but his, whose love divine
Its own clear spirit in thy breast had shrined,
A burning light! Oh! beautiful, in truth,
Upon the mountains are the feet of those
Who bear his tidings! From thy morn of youth,
For this were all thy journeyings, and the close
Of that long path, Heaven's own bright sabbath-
rest,

Must wait thee, wanderer! on thy Saviour's breast.

THE WATER-LILY.

"The Water-Lilies, that are serene in the calm clear water, but no less serene among the black and scowling waves."

Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life.

OH! beautiful thou art,

Thou sculpture-like and stately river-queen!
Crowning the depths, as with the light serene
Of a pure heart.

Bright lily of the wave !
Rising in fearless grace with every swell,

Thou seem'st as if a spirit meekly brave
Dwelt in thy cell:

Lifting alike thy head

Of placid beauty, feminine yet free,
Whether with foam or pictured azure spread
The waters be.

What is like thee, fair flower,

The gentle and the firm? thus bearing up
To the blue sky that alabaster cup,
As to the shower?

Oh! love is most like thee,

The love of woman! quivering to the blast Through every nerve, yet rooted deep and fast, 'Midst life's dark sea.

And faith-O, is not faith
Like thee, too, lily, springing into light,
Still buoyantly, above the billows' might,
Through the storm's breath?

Yes, link'd with such high thought, Flower, let thine image in my bosom lie! Till something there of its own purity And peace be wrought:

Something yet more divine

Than the clear, pearly, virgin lustre shed
Forth from thy breast upon the river's bed,
As from a shrine.

RECORDS OF THE SPRING OF 1834.

[These Sonnets, written in the months of April, May, and June, were intended, together with the Records of the Autumn of 1834, to form a continuation of the series, entitled "Sonnets, Devotional and Memorial."]

I.-A VERNAL THOUGHT.

O FESTAL Spring! 'midst thy victorious glow,
Far-spreading o'er the kindled woods and plains,
And streams, that bound to meet thee from their
chains,

Well might there lurk the shadow of a woe
For human hearts, and in the exulting flow
Of thy rich songs a melancholy tone,
Were we of mould all earthly; we alone,
Sever'd from thy great spell, and doom'd to go
Farther, still farther, from our sunny time,
Never to feel the breathings of our prime,
Never to flower again!—But we, O Spring!
Cheer'd by deep spirit-whispers not of earth,
Press to the regions of thy heavenly birth,

As here thy flowers and birds press on to bloom and sing.

II. TO THE SKY.

FAR from the rustlings of the poplar bough,
Which o'er my opening life wild music made,
Far from the green hills with their heathery glow
And flashing streams whereby iny childhood play'd;
In the dim city, 'midst the sounding flow

Of restless life, to thee in love I turn

O thou rich sky! and from thy splendours learn How song-birds come and part, flowers wane and blow.

With thee all shapes of glory find their home,
And thou hast taught me well, majestic dome!
By stars, by sunsets, by soft clouds which rove
Thy blue expanse, or sleep in silvery rest,
That Nature's God hath left no spot unbless'd
With founts of beauty for the eye of love.

III.-ON RECORDS OF IMMATURE GENIUS.*

OH! judge in thoughtful tenderness of those,
Who, richly dower'd for life, are called to die,
Ere the soul's flame, through storms, hath won
repose

In truth's divinest ether, still and high!

Let their mind's riches claim a trustful sigh!
Deem them but sad sweet fragments of a strain,
First notes of some yet struggling harmony,

• Written after reading Memorials of the late Mrs Tighe.

ON WATCHING THE FLIGHT OF A SKY-LARK. 257

By the strong rush, the crowding joy and pain
Of many inspirations met, and held

From its true sphere :-Oh! soon it might have

swell'd

Majestically forth!-Nor doubt, that He,

Whose touch mysterious may on earth dissolve
Those links of music, elsewhere will evolve
Their grand consummate hymn, from passion-gusts
made free!

IV. ON WATCHING THE FLIGHT OF A

SKY-LARK.

UPWARD and upward still!-in pearly light
The clouds are steep'd; the vernal spirit sighs
With bliss in every wind, and crystal skies
Woo thee, O bird! to thy celestial height;
Bird piercing Heaven with music! thy free flight
Hath meaning for all bosoms; most of all
For those wherein the rapture and the might
Of poesy lie deep, and strive, and burn,

For their high place: O heirs of genius! learn
From the sky's bird your way!-No joy may fill
Your hearts, no gift of holy strength be won
To bless your songs, ye children of the sun!
Save by the unswerving flight-upward and upward
still!

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