e Who in Him find their all: to other men, The beauteous things that pass them by on earth, An immortality of deathless woe, That haunts them with the sting of lost delight." And once again, retracing all my steps, I gazed upon those lovely scenes of life; Those passion fountains of unfathom'd depth, Those springs of human love, those beautiful homes Of Peace broods over evermore, and there A father's heart, a mother's, or a child's, More passionately beautiful than ever; And oh, the blessed change!--they vanish'd not. Faith whisper'd, "They are amaranthine now, Fear not: what once was of the present, soon In peace, my spirit linger'd on the scenes Those isles too often few and far between, Emblems of home upon the homeless sea, Those Edens blooming in a ruin'd world, Those gushing springs within a thirsty land, Those stars that startle us like friends at night, There, there I mused-there wander'd like a child The cycle was complete, and through the heavens I look'd upon those scenes of far delight, Trinity College, 1845. SAMSON. [The story of Samson is put into the mouth of Manoah, who relates it to his attendant shortly before his death.] "Ibi demum morte quievit." VIRGIL. Eneid. ix. 445. GIVE me thy hand, brave stripling, for mine eyes Are dim with age and many sorrows: rise Yes, thou hast urged me oftentimes to tell How my child Samson lived and fought and fell; By all the silent pleading of those years Spent with an old man in this vale of tears, And by thy hopes to light the latent fire Of thy young heart at Samson's funeral pyre; I felt thy silent longings; but my heart, Though school'd in grief, refused the mourner's part: I could not tell thee without tears his story— I could not weep o'er Samson's tomb of glory :— Who weeps with heaven before him? fix thine eye Now listen to an old man's tale, and tell The after centuries when I am gone, So spake Manoah of his only son. Yes, the dark clouds are breaking from my sight, |