POEMS,

CHIEFLY DESCRIPTIVE.

A SWISS SCENE.

"But sunwards lo you! how it towers sheer up, a world of mountains, the diadem and centre of the mountain region! a hundred and a hundred savage peaks, in the last light of day: all glowing of gold and amethyst, like giant spirits of the wilderness; there in their silence, in their solitude, even as on the night when Noah's deluge first dried."

Sartor Resartus, page 158.

VIEW'D from the terraced walks that round me glow,
How beautiful, Mont Blanc, thy heights of snow
Bathed in rose light, reflecting from the sun
A farewell splendour when his course is run!
They, like the gates sublime of Heaven, divine
Jasper and alabaster seem to shine.

What thought the world-bemocking wit Voltaire.
While gazing on the might of beauty there?
Felt not the anti-optimist that hour

The force immense of Love's all-present power
Prevailing 'mid the
gorgeousness of noon,
Or when on upland smiles the yellow moon,
Or when mild eve comes on, and gentle hearts
Hold converse as the summer-day departs?

Gaze on yon massive argentry of cloud
Glittering like battlements of opal proud,
Hanging o'er mountain-pyramids,-the mind
Might image worlds of chrysolite behind.
Gaze on the moon, yon globe of mellow light,
Tranquil as woman's virtue and as bright;
Lo! as she rises all harsh colours melt
Away,-the harmony of love is felt.

Wide valleys, rich in golden harvests, green
Meadows, blue rivers rolling fast between,
Cities with dark grey walls and swelling domes,
Mountains whose sides the deep pine-forest glooms,
All are intensely hush'd; one hue alone
Prevails, one charm o'er all by silence thrown.

Oh! how magnificent even in

repose

Is power at morning's dawn or evening's close;

How grand, when stars through boundless depths of sky Watch silent!-citadels of light on high.

From the o'er-canopying horizon man

Draws wisdom books teach not, nor ever can:

The Poetry of Nature heaven, earth, air
Express-what solemn imagery there!

The mind, embracing all, in words would fain
To mind convey its flow of thoughts—in vain :
They permeate too subtly, are entwined
Too closely with the sympathies of mind.