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On which thy powerful arms were stretched so Celestial King! O let thy presence pass

long!

Before my spirit, and an image fair

Lead me to mercy's ever-dowing fountains;
For thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt
be;

Shall meet that look of mercy from on high,
As the reflected image in a glass
Doth meet the look of him who seeks it there,
And owes its being to the gazer's eye.

I will obey thy voice, and wait to see

Thy feet all-beautiful upon the mountains. Hear, Shepherd! thou who for thy flock art

dying,

O, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou
Rejoicest at the contrite sinner's vow.
O, wait! to thee my weary soul is crying,
Wait for me! Yet why ask it, when I see,
With feet nailed to the cross, thou'rt waiting
still for me!

TO-MORROW.

FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.

LORD, what am I, that, with unceasing care,
Thou didst seek after me, that thou didst wait,
Wet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,
And pass the gloomy nights of winter there?
O strange delusion! that I did not greet

Thy blest approach, and O, to Heaven how lost,
If my ingratitude's unkindly frost

Has chilled the blee ling wounds upon thy feet.
How oft my guardian angel gently cried,
"Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt

see

How he persists to knock and wait for thee !" And, O! how often to that voice of sorrow, "To-morrow we will open," I replied, And when the morrow came I answered still, "To-morrow."

THE NATIVE LAND.

FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA.
CLEAR fount of light! my native land on high,
Bright with a glory that shall never fade!"
Mansion of truth! without a veil or shade,
Thy holy quiet meets the spirit's eye.
There dwells the soul in its ethereal essence,
Gasping no longer for life's feeble breath;
But, sentinelled in heaven, its glorious presence
With pitying eye beholds, yet fears not, death.
Beloved country! banished from thy shore,

A stranger in this prison-house of clay,
The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee!
Heavenward the bright perfections I adore

Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way, That, whither love aspires, there shall my dwelling be.

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Behold the Angel of God! fold up thy hands!
Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!

See, how he scorns all human arguments,

So that no oar he wants, nor other sail
Than his own wings, between so distant shores!
See, how he holds them, pointed straight to
heaven,

Fanning the air with the eternal pinions,
That do not moult themselves like mortal
hair!"

And then, as nearer and more near us came
The Bird of Heaven, more glorious he ap-
peared,

So that the eye could not sustain his presence,
But down I cast it; and he came to shore
With a small vessel, gliding swift and light,
So that the water swallowed naught thereof.
Upon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot!
Beatitude seemed written in his face!

And more than a hundred spirits sat within. "In exitu Israel de Egypto !"

24

THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE.-THE CHILD ASLEEP.

Thus sang they all together in one voice, With whatso in that Psa.m is after written. Then made he sign of holy rood upon them, Whereat all cast themselves upon the shore, And he departed swiftly as he came.

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Had in itself, smote me upon the forehead, No heavier blow, than of a pleasant breeze, Whereat the tremulous branches readily

Did all of them bow downward towards that side

Where its first shadow casts the Holy Moun

tain; Yet not from their upright direction bent So that the little birds upon their tops Should cease the practice of their tuneful art; But, with full-throated joy, the hours of prime

Singing received they in the midst of foliage That made monotonous burden to their rhymes, Even as from branch to branch it gathering

swells,

Through the pine forests on the shore of Chiassi,

When olus unlooses the Sirocco. Already my slow steps had led me on

Into the ancient wood so far, that I

Could see no more the place where I had entered.

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Even as the snow, among the living rafters
Upon the back of Italy, congeals,

Blown on and beaten by Sclavonian winds,
And then, dissolving, filters through itself,
Whene'r the land, that loses shadow, breathes,
Like as a taper melts before a fire,
Even such I was, without a sigh or tear,

Before the song of those who chime forever After the chiming of the eternal spheres; But, when I heard in those sweet melodies Compassion for me, more than had they said, "O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus consume him?"

The ice, that was about my heart congealed,
To air and water changed, and, in my anguish,
Through lips and eyes came gushing from my
breast.

Confusion and dismay, together mingled,

Forced such a feeble Yes!" out of my mouth, To understand it one had need of sight. Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 't is discharged, Too tensely drawn the bow-string and the bow, And with less force the arrow hits the mark; So I gave way beneath this heavy burden, Gushing forth into bitter tears and sighs, And the voice, fainting, flagged upon its passage.

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26

THE HAPPIEST LAND.--THE BIRD AND THE SHIP.

THE WAVE.

Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar, Now is the hour!

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