if the sight,

Almost as vivid as a dream, produced a

dream at night?

It came with sleep and showed the Boy, no cherub, not transformed,

But the poor ragged Thing whose ways my human heart had warned.

"My Mother," said the Boy, was born near to a blessed Tree,

round and round

The wide-spread boughs, for view of door. window, and stair that wound Gracefully up the gnarled trunk; nor left we unsurveyed

The pointed steeple peering forth from the centre of the shade.

I lighted opened with soft touch the chapel's iron door,

Past softly, leading in the Boy; and, whi from roof to floor

From floor to roof all round his
Child with wonder cast,

eyes the Pleasure on pleasure crowded in, each live lier than the last.

For, deftly framed within the trunk, the sanctuary showed,

By light of lamp and precious stones, that glimmered here, there glowed, Shrine, Altar, Image, Offerings hung sign of gratitude;

Sight that inspired accordant thought, and speech I thus renewed:

"Hither the Afflicted come, as thou hast heard thy Mother say,

And, kneeling, supplication make to o Lady de la Paix;

What mournful sighs have here been hear. and, when the voice was stopt

Check with thy notes the impulse v betrayed

By her sweet farewell looks, I lange v aid.

Here let me gaze enrapt upon that eve
The impregnable and awe-inspiring th
Of contemplation, the calm port
By reason fenced from winds that sigh
Among the restless sails of vanity.
But if no wish be hers that we sho
A humbler bliss would satisfy my hear
Where all things are so far,
Enough by her dear side to breathe the
Of this Elysian weather;

And, on or in, or near, the brook, esy
Shade upon the sunshine lying

Faint and somewhat pensively, And downward Image gaily vying With its upright living tree 'Mid silver clouds, and openings of sky

As soft almost and deep as her cerulear e

Nor less the joy with many a glance Cast up the Stream or down at be seeching,

By

To mark its eddying foam-balls pr distrest ever-changing shape and want of Or watch, with mutual teach The current as it plays In flashing leaps and se

WANSFELL! this Household has a favoured lot.

Living with liberty on thee to gaze,

To watch while Morn first crowns thee with her rays,

Or when along thy breast serenely float Evening's angelic clouds. Yet ne'er a note Hath sounded (shame upon the Bard!) thy praise

For all that thou, as if from heaven, hast brought

Of glory lavished on our quiet days.
Bountiful Son of Earth! when we are gone
From every object dear to mortal sight,
As soon we shall be, may these words attest
How oft, to elevate our spirits, shone
Thy visionary majesties of light,

How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found

rest.

THE EAGLE AND THE DOVE 1842. 1842

SHADE of Caractacus, if spirits love The cause they fought for in their earthly home