JRE the wide waters on my view had smiled, From inland vale, in sunset's shapeful hue, Oft Fancy traced their level line of blue, And pictured cliffs where golden clouds were piled;

Often the Sea-bird's wail my mind beguiled,

I loved the boisterous home from which they flew :
From out dark pines when winds loud murmurs drew,
Methought I heard the waves in chorus wild.

At length I blest a Brother's guiding hand,
The goal was reached, and as I stood entranced,
A new world viewing from the lofty land,

Sudden-around the precipice that veils
The western sky, a warrior-ship advanced,—
On the blue waste a Pyramid of Sails.

CHARLES STRONG.

WAS near the walls that gird the imperial town,
Where from a lonely Convent's still retreat

I saw, whilst Tiber glowed beneath my feet, From heaven's illumined vault the Sun go down;

The lofty Capitol, like burnished crown,
Blazed on the City's brow,-each hallowed seat,
Each mournful relic of the perished Great,
Seemed once more brightening into old renown;

The Plain in purple haze lay slumbering deep,
The giant arches, that bestrode it, shone
A bridge of gold to blue Albano's steep.

Man, here alas! for ages overthrown,

With no gleam kindles, sunk in deathlike sleep,
His ruin, Rome, is darker than thine own.

I

CHARLES Strong.

THOU! whose golden reins curb steeds of fire, Blest be the rosy hours that onward bring Thy glorious pomp, now Night with folded wing Hides in her cave, and heaven's pale host retire:

Fresh from their flowery beds the gales respire,
To rapture new awakes each living thing,
Rivers run joyous, woods harmonious ring,
As Earth, unveiling, shows her green attire.

Now Ocean shines distinct, the bark unmoors;
Flocks to the dewy mountains from the fold
Go forth, the springing lark above them soars ;

And hopeful Man, as on thy state is roll'd,
Welcomes the beam that o'er the cluster pours

A deeper dye, and ripens fruits of gold.

CHARLES Strong.

THE EVENING CLOUD.

CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun;

A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow;

Long had I watched the glory moving on,

O'er the still radiance of the lake below; Tranquil its spirit seemed and floated slow; Even in its very motion there was rest ;

While every breath of eve that chanced to blow Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. Emblem, methought, of the departed soul,

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given; And by the breath of mercy made to roll

Right onward to the golden gates of Heaven; Where to the eye of Faith it peaceful lies,

And tells to man his glorious destinies.

JOHN WILSON.

i

O up among the mountains, when the storm
Of midnight howls, but go in that wild mood
When the soul loves tumultuous solitude,

And thro' the haunted air, each giant form
Of swinging pine, black rock, or ghostly cloud,
That veils some fearful catract, tumbling loud,
Seems to thy breathless heart with life imbued.
'Mid those gaunt shapeless thingsthou art alone!
The mind exists, thinks, trembles thro' the ear,

The memory of the human world is gone,
And time and space seem living only here.

O, worship thou the visions then made known, While sable glooms round Nature's temple roll, And her dread anthem peals into thy soul !

JOHN WILSON.