With variegated hues adorn❜d below
A mellow autumn's sun the woodlands glow;
All is unbreathing silence, not a rush
Is stirr'd; and how intense the noon-day hush!
Years have elapsed, but what are years, since they
Whom I remember here, have past away!
Like to a sun-burst gathering clouds among,
Probus shone forth above the worldly throng
That walk in darkness, warming all who came
Within his influence, yet unmark'd by fame.
He drew towards God, with sweet attractive force,
Those who deflected from the even course.
Though mild to others, to himself severe,
He ne'er relax'd, content that Heaven was near :
Religion on his heart betimes engraved
The maxim, "Be thou watchful to be saved."
His mind, within its tenement of dust,
Rose unassailable by passion's gust:
The pyramid, thus heavenward pointing stands
Above the desert's ever-whirling sands.
Habitual piety had given a tone
Of feeling to him that seem'd his alone;
The calm intensity of which, unquell'd
By tumults of the world, each act impell'd.
He has received the meed of faith, and now
The cross shines forth triumphant on his brow.
He too, who while on earth could nothing find
To satisfy the longings of his mind,
So ill by grosser spirits understood,
May realize his dream of perfect good.
That dream a light prophetic, as he mused,
Gradual his mind's horizon circumfused;
Promise through intervening mists of sense,
Of knowledge infinite, of love intense:
Love, as truth opes the everlasting doors
Of heaven for the beloved of God, outpours
Through depths of space, from suns-embracing zones,
Harmonious joy in fragrance-breathing tones.
The light-encircled spirits seem to move
As visitants from heaven through yonder grove;
Though the world's follies be by them forgot,
Yet they might wish to consecrate the spot
With their occasional presence that on earth
They loved, where ripen'd first for heaven their worth;
There, there to flourish in its proper soil,
Not asking, to support it, further toil.
Virtue is there identified with being,
Splendours we vaguely guess at ever seeing;
Splendours ineffable, that Milton's pen
Scarce shadowed out, above our mental ken.
Now they commingle with that holy race
Whom powers that emanate from God embrace!
Measureless knowledge-man here vainly craves————
Now circumscribes them, as the sea its waves :
Not flashing forth and vanishing by turns,
Devotion's steady flame above them burns;
The sun of happiness, that scarcely cheers
Our progress here, how bright to them appears!
Within his influence, yet unmark'd by fame.
Many a time God is present in the still voice and private retirement of a quiet religion, and the constant spiritualities of an ordinary life; when the loud and impetuous winds, and the strong fires of more laborious and expensive actions, are profitable to others; like a tree of balsam distilling precious liquors for others, not for its own use.— JEREMY TAYLOR.
A GOOD MAN'S FUTURE EXISTENCE.
Nube non è ch' oscuri vostra luce,
L'ore distinte a voi non fanno forza,
Caso o necessità non vi conduce.-MICHAEL ANGELO.
Eternal life! If all the winds of heaven might be concentrated to fill the trump that should proclaim it, the blast would be but too feeble for the theme! If all the constellations of our firmament were grouped afresh to blazon those few letters on the vault of heaven, the matter would be more than worthy of the legend.-SHEPPARD.
As heavenly bodies through the ether move
Silently, stormful regions far above,
Thus above passions that around the throng
Gather, the good man moves his course along.
With such a facile energy he goes
Onward, 'tis action, 'tis sublime repose.
He to the stock of human happiness
Brings every day accession, more or less.
As Flora from her pictured urn in May
Throws flowers Love scatters blessings in his way.
When gone, remembrance of what he has been,
Sweet as perfume from violet banks unseen,
To those his present influence gladden'd, gives
A fragrant joy his presence that survives.
Fraught with a solar life, unworn by change
Organic, (Mind must have a wider range)
Through faith he brightens in a higher sphere,
Serenely beautiful, as star-light here:
An undecaying spirit, that adores
The source eterne of all its virtues, powers;
Virtues, from sin's disturbing force secure ;
Powers, more efficient, ever to endure;
Of strength possessive, ne'er to lose their hold
On truths, no master-minds can here unfold;
With thoughts as sunbeams penetrating, true
As arrow from the bow of Tell that flew.
No damps like those from earth arising tame
There adoration's ever-living flame:
No mists there intercept the light of grace
Effluent from the Triune seen face to face:
No cares that here thwart purposed good distract
Affections pure, that ceaseless interact.
Developed partially in grosser clay
Emotions noble are call'd into play;
Even if expended, then renew'd as soon,
Their influence powerful as sun at noon.
Far higher in degree, the same in kind,
As in the mortal, so in form refin'd
Of the transfigurated being rise
With him of life the social charities,
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