THE PILGRIMS ON MOUNT CLEAR.

BY BERNARD BARTON.

ARTIST! well thy graphic skill
Here hath wrought its glorious will;
Giving, to the gazer's vision,

Beauty borrowed from our earth;
Yet combin'd with gleams elysian,
Owing unto Heaven their birth;
Well may Fancy love to dwell

On such MOUNTS DELECTABLE !

Look upon the scene around;

Height o'er height with foliage crown'd,
As if beauty sought to dress

Majesty in loveliness!

There the foaming torrents leap

From the cliffs, and fall in thunder;

Here the waters softly sweep

Wood-fringed banks in silence under;

Gleams of light but fall to lend

Grace to spots which ask their aid;

Massy shadows only blend

To fling round a sweeter shade; Each with each, and all with all, Harmonizing to enthral.

Still the beauty these display

Speaks of things to pass away!

When the pealing trump shall waken
Nature, with its summons dread;
When the graves shall be forsaken

By their dreamless, slumbering dead;
When the shadowy woods that belt

Earth's firm hills, shall leave them bare;

When the elements shall melt,

And dissolve in empty air;

When the stars from heaven shall fall,
Like sere leaves in their decay;
Sun and moon no more recall

Time's brief span of night and day;—
At that signal-trumpet's sound,
Mightiest mountains, forest-crown'd,

Cliffs that rear their crests on high,
Towering in the bright-blue sky,
Giant rocks, whereon they stand,
Streams which water all the land,
Cataracts, falling from their height,
Ocean, with its ebb and flow;
Winged winds, that in their might,

Where they list, now come and go ;—

These, and all of EARTH and TIME,

Then shall share one lot sublime;

In one destiny shall blend,

Know, alike, one common end!

Not to gaze on charms so frail,

Have those gentle SHEPHERD GUIDES

Wish'd their PILGRIM GUESTS to scale

This ascent:-though here abides,

For its transient day, or hour,
BEAUTY in its living Power
Tho' beneath them, and around,
Every sight, and every sound,
Mingling in magnificence,

Chasten'd rapture must dispense.

They have brought them here in love,

That through their " PROSPECTIVE GLASS," They may look on things above,

Things which yet shall come to pass;
That from hence they may discern
Glimpses of yet greater glory;
Gleams of that for which they yearn,
In their conflicts transitory!
Though they look at them, alas!
Dimly, darkly, through a glass;
And can see, with throbbing heart,
Of their splendour but a part;
Yet enough is given to raise
Thoughts of gratitude and praise!

Say, what greets their glance on high,
Through that rainbow-arched sky?

Fancy deems them now beholding

Scenes of which blest seraphs sing ;-
Glistening gates of pearl, unfolding
To the city of their King;
Sunless light its radiance shedding

On the golden pavement bright;

Countless throngs, thro' glad courts treading,

Cloth'd in robes of spotless white !

Thus might Fancy deem; but they

Tabernacled yet in clay,

Cannot purge their mortal vision,
Objects to discern aright,
But a glimpse of joys elysian
Flashes on their aching sight;-
One bright beam of endless day,
In their hearts they bear away!
Walking on TH' ENCHANTED GROUND,
This shall Virtue's spell be found;
And on DEATH's dark bridgeless stream,
Its reflected light shall gleam!

THE EVENING SACRIFICE.

CALM is this hallowed hour!

And sweet the sacred joy our spirits know,

When we approach to that Eternal Power, Before whose footstool thus we love to bow.

Lowly we bend the knee

Before that God whose arms the world uphold,
His worship sacred, and his service free,

His mercy

boundless, and his love untold.

Then, earth, how vain thy toys!

How short and momentary all thy bliss!

How frail! how transient all thy boasted joys! How sad thy happiest hours compared with this!

Saviour of sinners, hear!

Beam on our souls with thy divinest light;
Implant within our hearts thy holy fear,

And guide our loitering, wandering footsteps right.

T. A.