Dreams of Heaven. "I veil my brow from this dim earth, [Passage marked by a dear friend, now a dweller in those brighter spheres.] "To suns that shine forever yonder, O'er fields that fade not sweet to flee, SCHILLER. DREAM of a land of flowers unfading The streams of crystal, bright and clear; Only to give up their rich adorning, And round our spirits their bright woof weave. I dream of a home where pain and sighing, Where harsh, cold words can never grieve us, DREAMS OF HEAVEN. I dream of meetings of friends long parted,- Or the fond eyes dim in a dark eclipse,- O, friend of my heart! in a brighter morning Do you roam so happy, among the flowers? you Or send sweet thoughts to the loved of yore? She answers me not-my friend and sister! But a soft breath comes through the dark cloud-vista, In a few short years, o'er the silent river, And forever free you will dwell with me." O fadeless flowers of the fields of heaven! 69 O friendships pure! O loves unfading! I dream of you all when my dark days come; And when the black waters my eyes are shading, May your bright forms smile me a welcome home! The Silent Village. LITTLE way from the busy town, Beyond the noise of men, Whence, through waving branches looking down, The burning crowd is seen; And where all the surge of life's unrest To whispered murmurs dies, On the peaceful hill-side's quiet breast A silent village lies. The summer wind with the whispering leaves And the wintry blast through shivering trees And lonely pathways raves, And the storm, with great gray wings of gloom, And it stirs no sign and wakes no sound Within these silent homes. The tuneful bird pours its joyous note, And the butterfly and hum-bee float Through all the Summer day; THE SILENT VILLAGE. And the faint, low sound of busy life From the town, with restless billows rife, The blushing rose her sweet bloom unfolds, And the buttercup's bright crown of gold And the fragrant store of clover sweets But the loveliness no glad voice greets, The restless feet and the merry shout And the song of youth ne'er ringeth out And the busy hands on this life's stage, The marble slab and the turfy mound And the gleaming shaft and moss-grown stone For the rich and poor, there side by side, In narrow mansions sleep, And no dream of care, or pomp, or pride, Breaks on their silence deep. 71 A deep, dark spell, through all time which lasts, Of mystery unknown, From the King of Silence' shadow cast, Over the place is thrown; But a mightier power shall break the spell, When the trumpet of God's resounding peal Shall on their silence break. Lamentation. READ upon that book, Which down the golden gulf doth let us look On the sweet days of pastoral majesty; I read upon that book How, when the shepherd prince did flee,- The stone for a pillow; then he fell on sleep. Then were ascending and descending things |