« PreviousContinue »
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf?
IX. - HYMN TO MONT BLANC. — Coleridge.
Hand and voice
Who sank thy sunless pillars in the earth?
Who called you forth from night and utter death?
And who commanded — and the silence came,
The silent snow-mass, loosening, thunders, God! Ye dreadless flowers, that fringe the eternal frost! Ye wild goats bounding by the eagle's nest ! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements, Utter forth God! and fill the hills with praise ! And thou, O silent form, alone and bare, Whom as I lift again my head, bowed low In silent adoration, I again behold, And to thy summit upward from thy base Sweep slowly, with dim eyes suffused with tears, – Awake thou mountain form! Rise like a cloud, Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth! Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills, Thou dread Ambassador from earth to heaven, Great Hierarch, tell thou the silent sky, And tell the stars, and tell the rising sun, Earth with her thousand voices calls on God.
X. - ODE ON THE PASSIONS. - Collins.
First, Fear, his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords bewildered laid ; -
Even at the sound himself had made.
Next, Anger rushed : his eyes on fire,
In lightnings owned his secret stings :-
And swept with hurried hands the strings.
With woful measures, wan Despair
Low sullen sounds his grief beguiled ;
’T was sad, by fits ; — by starts, 't was wild.
What was thy delighted measure ?
Still it whispered promised pleasure,
Still would her touch the strain prolong;
And, where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; Ind Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair : And longer had she sung — but, with a frown,
Revenge impatient rose.
And, with a withering look,
The war-denouncing trumpet took,
And ever and anon, he beat
The doubling drum with furious heat.
Dejected Pity at his side,
Her soul-subduing voice applied, .
Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien; While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head,
Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed;
Si d proof of thy distressful state!
And, now, it courted Love; now, raving, called on Hate.
With eyes upraised, as one inspired,
In notes by distance made more sweet,
And, dashing soft from rocks around,
Bubbling runnels joined the sound.
(Round a holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace and lonely musing,) In hollow murmurs died away.
But, oh! how altered was its sprightlier tone,
Her bow across her shoulder flung,
Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known!
The oak-crowned Sisters, and their chaste-eyed Queen,
Satyrs and sylvan boys were seen,
Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear,
Last, came Joy's ecstatic trial.
First to the lively pipe his hand addressed;
Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best.
They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids,
Amid the fatal-sounding shades,
Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round:
And he amidst his frolic play,
As if he would the charming air repay,
1 XI. — The uses of KNOWLEDGE. --Alison. The first end to which all wisdom or knowledge ought to be employed, is to illustrate the wisdom or goodness of the Father of Nature. Every science that is cultivated by men, leads naturally to religious thought, from the study of the plant that grows beneath our feet, to that of the Host of Heaven above us, who perform their stated revolutions in majestic silence, amid the expanse of infinity. When, in the youth of Moses, “the Lord appeared to him in Horeb,” a voice was heard, saying, “ draw nigh hither, and put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place where thou standest is holy ground.” It is with such a reverential awe that every great or elevated mind will approach to the study of nature, and with such feelings of adoration and gratitude, that he will receive the illumination that gradually opens upon his soul.
It is not the lifeless mass of matter, he will then feel, that he is examining, it is the mighty machine of Eternal Wisdom : the workmanship of Him, “ in whom everything lives, and moves, and has its being.” Under an aspect of this kind, it is impossible to pur
1 A few of the concluding pieces in the first edition, which were designed for the use of theological students, are now displaced by others of a more general character; as the author's new work, Púlpit Elocution, has since been prepared for the purpose of furnishing appropriate professional exercises.