But God had destined to do more Through him, than through an armed power. IV. God gave him reverence of laws, Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause- The eye of the hawk, and the fire therein ! V. To Nature and to Holy Writ Alone did God the boy commit: Where flashed and roared the torrent, oft VI. The straining oar and chamois chase VII. He knew not that his chosen hand, A CHRISTMAS CAROL. I. THE shepherds went their hasty way, And now they checked their eager tread, II. They told her how a glorious light, Streaming from a heavenly throng, Around them shone, suspending night! While sweeter than a mother's song, Blest Angels heralded the Saviour's birth, Glory to God on high! and Peace on Earth. III. She listened to the tale divine, And closer still the Babe she prest; And while she cried, the Babe is mine! The milk rushed faster to her breast: Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn; IV. Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace, Poor, simple, and of low estate! That strife should vanish, battle cease, Sweet music's loudest note, the poet's story,Did'st thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory? V. And is not War a youthful king, Him Earth's majestic monarchs hail Their friend, their playmate! and his bold bright eye Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh. VI. "Tell this in some more courtly scene, To maids and youths in robes of state! I am a woman poor and mean, And therefore is my soul elate. War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled, That from the aged father tears his child! VII. "A murderous fiend, by fiends adored, Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away VIII. "Then wisely is my soul elate, That strife should vanish, battle cease: I'm poor and of a low estate, The Mother of the Prince of Peace. Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn : [born." Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is HUMAN LIFE, ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY. Ir dead, we cease to be; if total gloom Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom, Whose sound and motion not alone declare, But are their whole of being! If the breath Be life itself, and not its task and tent, If even a soul like Milton's can know death; O Man! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant, Yet drone-hive strange of phantom purposes Surplus of nature's dread activity, Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finished vase, Retreating slow, with meditative pause, ! She formed with restless hands unconsciously! Blank accident! nothing's anomaly ! If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state, Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes, thy fears, The counter-weights!-Thy laughter and thy tears Mean but themselves, each fittest to create, And to repay the other! Why rejoices Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good? Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner's hood, Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices, Image of image, ghost of ghostly elf, That such a thing as thou feel'st warm or cold? Yet what and whence thy gain, if thou withhold These costless shadows of thy shadowy self? Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun! Thou hast no reason why! Thou can'st have none; Thy being's being is contradiction. MOLES. --THEY shrink in, as Moles (Nature's mute monks, live mandrakes of the ground) Creep back from Light-then listen for its sound ;See but to dread, and dread they know not whyThe natural alien of their negative eye. THE VISIT OF THE GODS. IMITATED FROM SCHILLER. NEVER, believe me, Appear the Immortals, Never alone : Scarce had I welcomed the sorrow-beguiler, |