Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, LONGFELLOW. 83. THE BOOK OF NATURE. THEI HERE is a book who runs may read, And all the lore its scholars need, Pure eyes and Christian hearts. The works of God above, below, Within us and around, The moon above, the Church below, But all their radiance, all their glow, The Saviour lends the light and heat The saints, like stars, around His seat The saints above are stars in Heaven- Like trees they stand, whom God has given Our Eden's happy birth. Faith is their fix'd unswerving root, Hope their unfading flower, Fair deeds of charity their fruit, The dew of Heaven is like Thy grace; But where it lights the favour'd place One Name above all glorious names, The raging fire, the roaring wind, Two worlds are ours: 'tis only sin The mystic heaven and earth within, Thou who hast given me eyes to see Give me a heart to find out Thee, KEBLE. 84. THE FIELD OF WATERLOO. STOP [From CHILDE HAROLD.] (TOP!—for thy tread is on an Empire's dust! An earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below! Is the spot mark'd with no colossal bust, Nor column trophied for triumphal show? None; but the moral's truth tells simpler so: As the ground was before, thus let it be.— How that red rain-hath made the harvest grow! And is this all the world has gain'd by thee, Thou first and last of fields! king-making Victory? There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is!—it is!-the cannon's opening roar ! Within a window'd niche of that high hall And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear: And when they smiled because he deem'd it near, His heart more truly knew that peal too well Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier, And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell: He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell! Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise! And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, Last noon-beheld our chieftains full of life; The midnight-brought the signal-sound of strife; The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover-heap'd and pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe,-in one red burial blent! 85. FRIENDS. LORD BYRON. FRIE RIEND after friend departs; Beyond this vale of death, There is a world above, Where parting is unknown, Form'd for the good alone; |