STARS.

HEY glide upon their endless way,
For ever calm, for ever bright;

No blind hurry, no delay,

Mark the Daughters of the Night:

They follow in the track of Day,
In divine delight.

Shine on, sweet orbed Souls for aye,
For ever calm, for ever bright:

We ask not whither lies your way,

Nor whence ye came, nor what your light. Be-still a dream throughout the day,

A blessing through the night.

B. CORNWALL.

THE STAR.

WINKLE, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light:
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

When the traveller in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not tell which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

The Rainbow.

In the dark blue sky you keep,

And often through my curtains peep.

For you never shut your eye,

Till the sun is in the sky.

223

JANE TAYLOR.

THE RAINBOW.

RIUMPHAL arch that fillest the sky,
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud philosophy

To teach me what thou art.

Still seem as to my childhood's sight,

A midway station given,

For happy spirits to alight

Betwixt the earth and heaven.

Can all that optics teach, unfold
Thy form to please me so,
As when I dreamt of gems and gold
Hid in thy radiant bow?

When science from creation's face
Enchantment's veil withdraws,

What lovely visions yield their place

To cold material laws!

And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams,
But words of the Most High,

Have told why first thy robe of beams
Was woven in the sky.

When o'er the green undeluged earth Heaven's covenant thou didst shine, How came the world's gray fathers forth To watch thy sacred sign?

And when its yellow lustre smiled,

O'er mountains yet untrod, Each mother held aloft her child, To bless the bow of God.

Methinks thy jubilee to keep,
The first-made anthem rang,
On earth delivered from the deep,
And the first poet sang.

Nor ever shall the Muse's eye,
Enraptured greet thy beam;
Theme of primeval prophecy,
Be still the poet's theme.

The earth to thee its incense yields,
The lark thy welcome sings,
When glittering in the freshened fields
The snowy mushroom springs.

How glorious is thy girdle cast
O'er mountain, tower, and town,

Or mirrored in the ocean vast,
A thousand fathoms down.

As fresh in yon horizon dark,
As young thy beauties seem,
As when the eagle from the ark
First sported in thy beam.

The Rainbow.

For faithful to its sacred page,

Heaven still rebuilds thy span,

Nor lets the type grow pale with age,

That first spoke peace to man.

CAMPBELL

THE RAINBOW.

m

Y heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.

WORDSWORTH.

THE RAINBOW.

FRAGMENT of a rainbow bright
Through the moist air I see,

All dark and damp on yonder height,

All bright and clear to me.

An hour ago the storm was here,

The gleam was far behind,
So will our joys and grief appear,
When earth has ceased to blind.

225

Grief will be joy if on its edge

Fall soft that holiest ray,

Joy will be grief if no faint pledge
Be there of heavenly day.

KEBLE.

AFTERNOON IN, FEBRUARY.

HE day is ending,

The night is descending,

The marsh is frozen,

The river dead;

Through clouds like ashes

The red sun flashes

On village windows,

That glimmer red.

The snow recommences,

The buried fences

Mark no longer

The road o'er the plain

While through the meadows,

Like fearful shadows,

Slowly passes

A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling

Within me responds

To the dismal knell;