THERE is a silent hand of love,
That calms the storm to rest-
That makes the angry clouds remove,
And smoothes the ocean's breast.
"Tis seen amid the splendid hues
That in the rainbow meet-
It paints the spray with pearly dews,
Perfumes the flowers so sweet.
We see its impress on the sky,
In fields with verdure crowned"Tis heard in nature's burst of joy, It circles earth around.
JANE T. BRadford.
Beauty of the Mind.
WITH affections warm, intense, refined,
She mingled such calm and holy strength of
That, like heaven's image in the smiling brook, Celestial peace was pictured in her look.
Effect of Nature's Beauty.
WHENCE the thrill,
That indescribable, electric thrill,
That rushes through the spirit, as some tone
Of nature's melody awakes the ear;
Or when some balmy zephyr bathes the brow:
Or as the wandering eye marks some rich tint
In Summer's rosy garland, when the wind
Bends the elastic grain, and slender flower;
Or when the rich old forest gently waves,
His dark green plumes, answering in majesty
To its impassion'd whisper? When the clouds
Heave up in glorious forms, and dazzling hues ;
Or lie, like sleeping beauty, softly bright;
Or, sometimes, when the trembling star of eve
Looks lovingly upon us? Is it not
That these things touch some half-unconscious
cord,
That vibrates with the memories of the past,
Ere earth enshrined the spirit? It must be
That in the secret treasury of the mind,
There lies a blazon'd volume of the scenes,
The trancing beauty and rich hymn of heaven,
With which the spirit was familiar once,
And which it longs for ever; wandering on
Amid the maze of earth, of sense, and sin,
Catching at every shadow which appears
In Fancy's magic mirror, like the form
Of some bright bliss which Memory's piercing
Sees in that hidden volume; wailing still
In bitter disappointment, as it grasps
The vain and empty shade, or sees it flit
In smiling scorn away.
CELESTIAL happiness, where'er she stoops
To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds,
And one alone, to make her sweet amends
For absent heaven-the bosom of a friend,
Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft,
Each other's pillow to repose divine.
Beware the counterfeit !--in passion's flame
Hearts melt, but melt like ice, soon harder
froze ;-
True love strikes root in reason, passion's foe;
Virtue alone entenders us for life,
I wrong her much-entenders us for ever.
THE waves that on the sparkling sand
Their foaming crests upheave,
Lightly receding from the land,
Seem not a trace to leave.
Those billows in their careless play,
Have worn the solid rocks away.
The Summer winds, which wandering sigh
Amid the forest bower,
So gently as they murmur by,
Scarce lift the drooping flower.
Yet bear they in autumnal gloom,
Spring's withered beauties to the tomb.
Thus worldly cares, though lightly borne,
Their impress leave behind;
And spirits which their bonds would spurn,
The blighting traces find,
Till alter'd thoughts, and hearts grown cold The change of passing years unfold.
Count Life by Virtues.
WHY should we count our life by years,
Since years are short, and pass away?
Or, why by fortune's smiles and tears,
Since tears are vain, and smiles decay?
O! count by virtues-these will last
When life's lame-footed race is o'er ;
And these, when earthly joys are past,
Shall cheer us on a brighter shore.
The Heart of Woman.
THE heart of woman, like the diamond, has Light treasured in it. There a ray serene Of Heaven's own sunshine ever more hath
And though each star of hope and joy may pass Away in darkness from life's stormy sky,
If man but kindly keep that heart he'll find Sweet gleams of consolation there enshrined.
|