OF THE BRIGHT THINGS IN EARTH AND AIR. 251

In vain with dull and tuneless ear,
I linger by soft Music's cell,
And in my heart of hearts would hear
What to her own she deigns to tell.

"T is misty all, both sight and sound-
I only know 't is fair and sweet-
"T is wandering on enchanted ground

With dizzy brow and tottering feet.
But patience! there may come a time

When these dull ears shall scan aright
Strains, that outring Earth's drowsy chime,
As heaven outshines the taper's light.

These eyes, that dazzled now and weak,
At glancing motes in sunshine wink,
Shall see the King's* full glory break,

Nor from the blissful vision shrink:

In fearless love and hope uncloy'd
For ever on that ocean bright
Empower'd to gaze; and undestroy'd,

Deeper and deeper plunge in light.

Though scarcely now their laggard glance
Reach to an arrow's flight, that day

The region "very far away."

Refuse to speak, or speak amiss,

They shall behold, and not in trance,

If Memory sometimes at our spell

We shall not need her where we dwell

Ever in sight of all our bliss.

40

"Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty: they shall behold

the land that is very far off."-ISAIAH, Xxxiii. 17.

252 DEAR IS THE MORNING GALE OF SPRING.

Meanwhile, if over sea or sky

Some tender lights unnoticed fleet,
Or on loved features dawn and die,
Unread, to us, their lessons sweet;
Yet are there saddening sights around,
Which Heaven, in mercy, spares us too,
And we see far in holy ground,

If duly purged our mental view.

The distant landscape draws not nigh
For all our gazing; but the soul,
That upward looks, may still descry
Nearer each day, the brightening goal.
And thou, too curious ear, that fain
Wouldst thread the maze of Harmony,
Content thee with one simple strain,

The lowlier, sure, the worthier thee;
Till thou art duly train'd, and taught
The concord sweet of love divine:
Then, with that inward Music fraught,
For ever rise, and sing, and shine.

KEBLE.

45

50

55

60

DEAR IS THE MORNING GALE OF SPRING.

DEAR is the morning gale of Spring,

And dear the autumnal eve;

But few delights can Summer bring

A Poet's crown to weave.

Her bowers are mute, her fountains dry,

And ever Fancy's wing

Speeds from beneath her cloudless sky,
To Autumn or to Spring.

Sweet is the infant's waking smile,

And sweet the old man's rest

But middle age by no fond wile,
No soothing calm, is blest.

Still in the world's hot restless gleam
She plies her weary task,

While vainly for some pleasant dream
Her wandering glances ask.—

10

15

Sad languors through the summer day,
Storms on the wintry sea.

25

Youth's lightning-flash of joy secure
Pass'd seldom o'er His spright,—

A well of serious thought and pure,

Too deep for earthly light.

No spring was His-no fairy gleam

For He by trial knew

30

How cold and bare what mortals dream,

To worlds where all is true.

Then grudge not thou the anguish keen

Which makes thee like thy LORD,

And learn to quit with eye serene
Thy youth's ideal hoard.

Thy treasured hopes and raptures high-
Unmurmuring let them go,

35

Z

Nor grieve the bliss should quickly fly
Which CHRIST disdain'd to know.

Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon;
The pure, calm hope be thine,

Which brightens, like the eastern moon,
As day's wild lights decline.

Thus souls by nature pitch'd too high,
By sufferings plunged too low,
Meet in the Church's middle sky,
Half way 'twixt joy and woe,

To practise there the soothing lay

That sorrow best relieves: Thankful for all God takes away, Humbled by all He gives.

KEBLE.

MORNING.

HUES of the rich unfolding morn,
That, ere the glorious sun be born,
By some soft touch invisible

Around his path are taught to swell ;—
Thou rustling breeze so fresh and gay,
That dancest forth at opening day,
And brushing by with joyous wing,
Wakenest each little leaf to sing;—
Ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam,
By which deep grove and tangled stream
Pay, for soft rains in season given,
Their tribute to the genial heaven;—
Why waste your treasures of delight
Upon our thankless, joyless sight;

5

10

Who day by day to sin awake,
Seldom of heaven and you partake?
O! timely happy, timely wise,

Hearts that with rising morn arise!
Eyes that the beam celestial view,

15

Which evermore makes all things new!

20

New every morning is the love

Our wakening and uprising prove;

Through sleep and darkness safely brought,

Restored to life, and power, and thought.
New mercies, each returning day,

25

Hover around us while we pray;

New perils past, new sins forgiven,

New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.

If on our daily course our mind

Be set to hallow all we find,

30

New treasures still, of countless price,

God will provide for sacrifice.

Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,

As more of heaven in each we see:

Some softening gleam of love and prayer

35

Shall dawn on every cross and care.
As for some dear familiar strain
Untired we ask, and ask again,
Ever, in its melodious store,
Finding a spell unheard before;
Such is the bliss of souls serene,

When they have sworn, and steadfast mean,
Counting the cost, in all to espy

Their God, in all themselves deny.
O, could we learn that sacrifice,
What lights would all around us rise!

40

45