The Land which no Mortal may know. THOUGH Earth has full many a beautiful spot, As a poet or painter might show, Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright, To the hopes of the heart, and the spirit's glad sight, Is the land that no mortal may know. There the crystalline stream bursting forth from the throne, Flows on, and for ever will flow; Its waves, as they roll, are with melody rife, And its waters are sparkling with beauty and life, In the land which no mortal may know. And there, on its margin, with leaves ever green, Of the land which no mortal may know. There, too, are the lost! whom we loved on this earth, To the land which no mortal may know. There the pale orb of night, and the fountain of day, But the presence of HIM, the unchanging I AM! Light the land which no mortal may know. THE LAND WHICH NO MORTAL MAY KNOW. Oh! who but must pine, in this dark vale of tears, From its clouds and its shadows to go? To walk in the light of the glory above, And to share in the peace, and the joy, and the love, Of the land which no mortal may know. Life. BERNARD BARTON. WE are born; we laugh; we weep; We love; we droop; we die! Why do we live, or die? Who knows that secret deep? Alas, not I! Why doth the violet spring Unseen by human eye? Why do the radiant seasons bring Sweet thoughts that quickly fly? To things that die? We toil-through pain and wrong; We fight and fly; We love; we lose; and then, ere long, Stone-dead we lie. O life! is all thy song "Endure and-die?" BARRY CORNWALL. Human Life. How long shall man's imprison'd spirit groan And all that can be known, alas! is nothing worth. Untaught by saint, by cynic, or by sage, And all the spoils of time that load their shelves, We do not quit, but change our joys in age— Joys framed to stifle thought, and lead us from ourselves. The drug, the cord, the steel, the flood, the flame, And lust of change, though for the worst, proclaim Known were the bill of fare before we taste, Who would not spurn the banquet and the board Prefer the eternal, but oblivious fast, To life's frail-fretted thread, and death's suspended sword? He that the topmost stone of Babel plann'd, And he that braved the crater's boiling bed— Did these a clearer, closer view command Of heaven or hell, we ask, than the blind herd they led? HUMAN LIFE. Or he that in Valdarno did prolong The night her rich star-studded page to readCould he point out, midst all that brilliant throng, His fix'd and final home, from fleshy thraldom freed? Minds that have scann'd creation's vast domain, And secrets solved, till then to sages seal'd, Whilst nature own'd their intellectual reign Extinct, have nothing known or nothing have reveal'd. Devouring grave! we might the less deplore The extinguish'd lights that in thy darkness dwell, Wouldst thou, from that last zodiac, one restore, That might the enigma solve, and doubt, man's tyrant, quell. To live in darkness-in despair to die Is this indeed the boon to mortals given? Is there no port-no rock of refuge nigh? There is to those who fix their anchor-hope in heaven. Turn then, O man! and cast all else aside: Direct thy wandering thoughts to things aboveLow at the cross bow down-in that confide, Till doubt be lost in faith, and bliss secured in love. C. C. COLTON Rome. AR sadder musing on the traveller falls At sight of thee, O Rome! Than when he views the rough sea-beaten walls For thou wast of the hateful Four, whose doom But Greece was clean, till in her history's gloom And next a mingled throng besets the breast How shall I name thee, Light of the wide West, Or heinous Error Seat? O Mother erst, close tracing Jesus' feet! Do not thy titles glow In those stern judgment-fires, which shall complete KEBLE. |