XXVII. FROM THE SAME. No mortal object did these eyes behold And my Soul felt her destiny divine, And hope of endless peace in me grew bold: Heaven-born, the Soul a heaven-ward course must hold; Beyond the visible world She soars to seek (For what delights the sense is false and weak) Ideal Form, the universal mould. The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest In that which perishes: nor will he lend 'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love, XXVIII. FROM THE SAME. TO THE SUPREME BEING. THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed If Thou the spirit give by which I My unassisted heart is barren clay, pray : That of its native self can nothing feed: XXIX. SURPRISED by joy impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport · Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent Tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to mindmy But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; Could to my sight that heavenly face restore. XXX. METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne But all the steps and ground about were strown Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud, way; Sleeping alone within a mossy cave, With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone; A lovely Beauty in a summer grave! XXXI. "WEAK is the will of Man, his judgment blind; "Remembrance persecutes, and Hope betrays; Heavy is woe;- and joy, for human-kind, 66 "A mournful thing, so transient is the blaze!" 'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine Flower |