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The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming ; But that which coils around the heart, Oh! who hath power of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFERING CLAY.
WHEN coldness wraps this suffering clay, Ah, whither strays the immortal mind? It cannot die, it cannot stay,
But leaves its darken'd dust behind. Then, unembodied, doth it trace
By steps each planet's heavenly way?
Or fill at once the realms of space,
Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,
A thought unseen, but seeing all,
In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all, that was, at once appears.
Before Creation peopled earth,
Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
While sun is quench'd or system breaks,
Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
Its years as moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing,
O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing,
Forgetting what it was to die.
VISION OF BELSHAZZAR.
THE King was on his throne,
In Judah deem'd divine-
The godless Heathen's wine!
In that same hour and hall,
And wrote as if on sand:
The fingers of a man ;—
Along the letters ran,
And traced them like a wand.
The monarch saw, and shook,
Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill;
And Babel's men of age
Are wise and deep in lore;
But now they were not sage,
They saw-but knew no more.
A captive in the land,
A stranger and a youth,