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By dint of fasting, if you fail by prayer. And in their place bring men of antique mould,

Like the grave fathers of your Age of Gold,

Statesmen like those who sought the primal fount

Of righteous law, the Sermon on the Mount;

Lawyers who prize, like Quincy, (to our day

Still spared, Heaven bless him !) honor more than pay,

And Christian jurists, starry-pure, like Jay;

Preachers like Woolman, or like them who bore

Thefaith of Wesley to our Western shore, And held no convert genuine till he broke

Alike his servants' and the Devil's yoke; And priests like him who Newport's market trod,

And o'er its slave-ships shook the bolts of God!

So shall your power, with a wise prudence used,

Strong but forbearing, firm but not abused,

In kindly keeping with the good of all, The nobler maxims of the past recall, Her natural home-born right to Freedom give,

And leave her foe his robber-right, live.

to

Live, as the snake does in his noisome

fen!

Live, as the wolf does in his bone-strewn

den!

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Transfused through you, O mountain friends!

With mine your solemn spirit blends,
And life no more hath separate ends.

I read each misty mountain sign,
I know the voice of wave and pine,
And I am yours, and ye are mine.

Life's burdens fall, its discords cease,
I lapse into the glad release
Of nature's own exceeding peace.

O, welcome calm of heart and mind!
As falls yon fir-tree's loosened rind
To leave a tenderer growth behind,

So fall the weary years away;
A child again, my head I lay
Upon the lap of this sweet day.

This western wind hath Lethean powers,
Yon noonday cloud nepenthe showers,
The lake is white with lotus-flowers!

Even Duty's voice is faint and low, And slumberous Conscience, waking

slow,

Forgets her blotted scroll to show.

"The Shadow which pursues us all, Whose ever-nearing steps appall, Whose voice we hear behind us call,

That Shadow blends with mountain gray,

It speaks but what the light waves say, —
Death walks apart from Fear to-day!

Rocked on her breast, these pines and I
Alike on Nature's love rely;
And equal seems to live or die.
Assured that He whose presence fills
With light the spaces of these hills
No evil to his creatures wills,

The simple faith remains, that He
Will do, whatever that may be,
The best alike for man and tree.

What mosses over one shall grow, What light and life the other know, Unanxious, leaving Him to show.

II. EVENING.

Yon mountain's side is black with night, While, broad-orbed, o'er its gleaming

crown

The moon, slow-rounding into sight,

On the hushed inland sea looks down.

How start to light the clustering isles, Each silver-hemmed! How sharply show

The shadows of their rocky piles,
And tree-tops in the wave below!

How far and strange the mountains seem,

Dim-looming through the pale, still light!

The vague, vast grouping of a dream, They stretch into the solemn night.

Beneath, lake, wood, and peopled vale, Hushed by that presence grand and

grave,

Are silent, save the cricket's wail,

And low response of leaf and wave.

THE HERMIT OF THE THEBAID.

Fair scenes! whereto the Day and Night
Make rival love, I leave ye soon,
What time before the eastern light
The pale ghost of the setting moon

Shall hide behind yon rocky spines, And the young archer, Morn, shall break

His arrows on the mountain pines,

And, golden-sandalled, walk the lake!

Farewell! around this smiling bay Gay-hearted Health, and Life in bloom,

With lighter steps than mine, may stray

In radiant summers yet to come.

But none shall more regretful leave These waters and these hills than I: Or, distant, fonder dream how eve

Or dawn is painting wave and sky;

How rising moons shine sad and mild On wooded isle and silvering bay; Or setting suns beyond the piled

And purple mountains lead the day;

Nor laughing girl, nor bearding boy,
Nor full-pulsed manhood, lingering
here,
Shall add, to life's abounding joy,
The charmed repose to suffering dear.

Still waits kind Nature to impart

Her choicest gifts to such as gain An entrance to her loving heart Through the sharp discipline of pain.

Forever from the Hand that takes

One blessing from us others fall; And, soon or late, our Father makes His perfect recompense to all!

O, watched by Silence and the Night,
And folded in the strong embrace
Of the great mountains, with the light
Of the sweet heavens upon thy face,

Lake of the Northland! keep thy dower
Of beauty still, and while above
Thy solemn mountains speak of power,
Be thou the mirror of God's love.

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