THE forms they love, let others deck
In robes of rich resplendent fold;
Fling chains of pearl around the neck,
And tip the graceful ear with gold;
And bid the costly bawbles tell
How strong the heart's affections swell.
But she, whose presence cheers my life,
Whose moral beauty makes my pride,
Far lovelier as the trusted wife
Than when the lovely trusting bride,-
Jewels are no interpreter
Of what the husband feels for her.
I see her, on this joyful day,
The idol of her happy home,
Whose grateful inmates kneel and pray
That Heaven would bless for years to come,
Long years of bright rejoicing life, —
This honored mother, friend, and wife.
Wealth has no gifts for such a day;
Words try their feeble strength in vain;
Yet some slight token may convey
The feelings it cannot explain.
Mother, this simple token take,*
And prize it for a father's sake.
*A little work on Domestic Education.
WITH what a stately and majestic step
That glorious constellation of the north
Treads its eternal circle! going forth
Its princely way amongst the stars in slow
And silent brightness. Mighty one, all hail!
I joy to see thee on thy glowing path
Walk, like some stout and girded giant
Unwearied, resolute, whose toiling foot
Disdains to loiter on its destined way.
The other tribes forsake their midnight track,
And rest their weary orbs beneath the wave;
But thou dost never close thy burning eye,
Nor stay thy steadfast step; but on, still on,
While systems change, and suns retire, and worlds
Slumber and wake, thy ceaseless march proceeds.
The near horizon tempts to rest in vain.
Thou, faithful sentinel, dost never quit
Thy long-appointed watch; but, sleepless still,
Dost guard the fixed light of the universe,
And bid the North forever know its place.
Ages have witnessed thy devoted trust,
Unchanged, unchanging. When the sons of God
Sent forth that shout of joy which rang through heaven,
And echoed from the outer spheres that bound
The illimitable universe, thy voice
Joined the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs
The glad cry sounded, swelling to His praise
Who thus had cast another sparkling gem,
Little, but beautiful, amid the crowd
Of splendors that enrich his firmament.
As thou art now, so wast thou then the same.
Ages have rolled their course, and Time grown gray; The earth has gathered to her womb again,
And yet again, the myriads that were born
Of her uncounted, unremembered tribes.
The seas have changed their beds; the eternal hills
Have stooped with age; the solid continents
Have left their banks; and man's imperial works,
The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, which had flung
Their haughty honors in the face of heaven,
As if immortal, have been swept away,
Shattered and mouldering, buried and forgot.
But time has shed no dimness on thy front,
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread; youth, strength,
And beauty still are thine- as clear, as bright,
As when the Almighty Former sent thee forth,
Beautiful offspring of his curious skill,
To watch earth's northern beacon, and proclaim
The eternal chorus of eternal Love.
I wonder as I gaze. That stream of light, Undimmed, unquenched, just as I see it now,Has issued from those dazzling points, through years That go back far into eternity.
Exhaustless flood! forever spent, renewed
Forever! Yea, and those refulgent drops,
Which now descend upon my lifted eye,
|