The moon without, as pure and calm, Is shining as that night she shone;But now, to us, she brings no balm, For something from our hearts is gone.
Something whose absence leaves a void--
A cheerless want in every heart;Each feels the bliss of all destroyed, And mourns the change--but each apart.
The fire is burning in the grate As redly as it used to burn;But still the hearth is desolate, Till mirth, and love, and PEACE return.
'Twas PEACE that flowed from heart to heart, With looks and smiles that spoke of heaven, And gave us language to impart The blissful thoughts itself had given.
Domestic peace! best joy of earth, When shall we all thy value learn?
White angel, to our sorrowing hearth, Return--oh, graciously return!
THE THREE GUIDES. [First published in FRASER'S MAGAZINE.]
Spirit of Earth! thy hand is chill:
I've felt its icy clasp;And, shuddering, I remember still That stony-hearted grasp.
Thine eye bids love and joy depart:
Oh, turn its gaze from me!
It presses down my shrinking heart;I will not walk with thee!
"Wisdom is mine," I've heard thee say:
"Beneath my searching eye All mist and darkness melt away, Phantoms and fables fly.
Before me truth can stand alone, The naked, solid truth;And man matured by worth will own, If I am shunned by youth.
"Firm is my tread, and sure though slow;My footsteps never slide;And he that follows me shall know I am the surest guide."
Thy boast is vain; but were it true That thou couldst safely steer Life's rough and devious pathway through, Such guidance I should fear.
How could I bear to walk for aye, With eyes to earthward prone, O'er trampled weeds and miry clay, And sand and flinty stone;Never the glorious view to greet Of hill and dale, and sky;To see that Nature's charms are sweet, Or feel that Heaven is nigh?