BY THE AUTHOR OF "VISIONS OF SOLITUDE," etc.
LONELY and drear that valley lay,
Where bones of dead men strewed the ground,Bleached like those rifted rocks of grey,
That reared their spectre forms around. No blade of grass,-no wild-flower fair, No insect flitting through the air,
Amid that depth profound,
E'er met the eye-nor breeze's breath
Sighed o'er the deep repose of death.
Alone one living form was seen,
Like last survivor of his race,
Beneath the pallid moon-beam's sheen,
Slowly to seek that silent place.
And there, with visage pale, he stood,
In musings of prophetic mood,-
Upturned to heaven his face;
While thoughts, by language unexprest,
Chilled the warm life-blood of his breast,
And to his inward soul there spake,
A voice unheard by human ear,—
O son of man, can these awake,
These bones so scattered, old, and sere?
But say
the word, by His command
Who made the ocean, and the land;
And they-e'en they shall hear;
And flesh and sinews shall o'erspread
These mouldering relics of the dead.
Anon the wondrous word he spoke,
That trembling seen, and heard with awe, The fearful midnight silence woke,
As, subject to the law
Of their Creator-instant shook
Those withered bones before his look,-
Closer compelled to draw
Each to his fellow;-while the sound
Sent faint, mysterious echoes round.
And now more awful seems that glen,
With breathless corses scattered wideThe lifeless frames of stalwarth men, Reposing in funereal pride. Again the prophet lifts his voice, And loud the echoes now rejoice, As marshalled side by side, And, called to being, up they stand, A living, moving, breathing band.
And shall not thus thy chosen race,
Though far dispersed, and dead in sin,
Feel the strong influence of thy grace,
O Lord! and thus, at length, begin
To wake—to live-united by
A power descending from on high?
And feel their souls within,
Thy Spirit's quick and potent fire
Each stony heart once more inspire?
And thus, yea thus, when time is past,
And when, resounding through the tomb,
Shall ring the mighty trumpet's blast,
Which calls the nations to their doom; The trembling graves, the floods profound, Obedient to that piercing sound,
Shall, from their depths of gloom, Give up the slumbering dead-to hear The judgment-words of joy or fear.
Then shall the mighty of the earth,
The myriads by the mighty slain,
The babe that perished in its birth,
The sage his wisdom now in vain-
Alike surround the dazzling throne,
Where every secret thought is known,
To know their loss or gain;
The courts of heaven to tread, or swell
The legions of thy gulf, O hell!
I GAZED on Ocean-it was bright and bold,
The morning breeze was busy with its waves,
Which leapt rejoicing. The encircling sky
Tinting the waters with its cloudless blue
Arched the expanse-in air and on the sea
No living creature moved, nor other sound,
Save of the agitated waves, was heard.
The breeze is still, the waves are still; Motion and sound have ceased; the calm is great As once, when He, whom winds and waves obey, Looked on the waters in this
And bade them " peace, be still." So smooth the sea,
An insect's wing might leave a ripple there;
And the broad sun, now mounted high in heaven,
Views his own image in the glassy wave
Round and unbroken. Oh! 'tis beautiful!
That quiet ocean, with its thousand hues
Of blue and silver, and that boundless sky
Filled with the light and glory of the sun,
Like God inhabiting Eternity!
How beautiful! if in this lower world
Aught may depict the Majesty on high,
Essential Oneness filling all in all,
Eternity, immensity, and love
Eternal and immense, 'tis imaged here;
This sun, this ocean, and this air have caught
The stamp and character of Deity.
The sun reflects his glory :-like the deep
His wisdom-like the expanded firmament
His love, embracing and sustaining all.
And now another change is on the sea:—
That which was late so bland and beautiful
Has taken now a stern and iron hue
Turbid and threatening: above, below,
A growing darkness closes on the scene;
The elements are mustering their strength
For desperate conflict. The determined wind
Lays on the waters its continuous blast,
While myriad billows whitening in its track,
Wave over wave, roll on their crested heads
In emulous confusion.-The great deep
Is moved from its foundations, and the waves,
Foul and discoloured, cast up mire and dirt,
Loading the shore with its pollution.
Fierce and more fierce the warring elements
Engage;—as if the strength and wrath of Heaven,
Driven before the presence of its God,
Were poured along in one collected blast.
Such is the onset of the hurricane.
Old ocean writhes beneath it, and resents
The insult, flings its monstrous waves aloft,
And roars defiance.-Heaven's artillery
Rolls in full volley from the loaded clouds;
And thousand thousand flashes of red light,
Bursting from end to end the lurid sky,
Make the confusion visible.-Oh Thou!
Who once didst bow the Heavens and come down,
Thy throne encircled with dark waters round,
Clouds and thick darkness underneath thy feet,
Tempest and fire before Thee, whom but Thee,
Amidst the struggle and the agony,
Shall the tossed mariner look to? whom but Thee,
When his heart melts within him, and his bark
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