Before me rose an avenue

Of tall and sombrous pines;

Abroad their fan-like branches grew,

And, where the sunshine darted through,

Spread a vapor soft and blue,

In long and sloping lines.

And, falling on my weary brain,

Like a fast-falling shower,

The dreams of youth came back again ;

Low lispings of the summer rain,

Dropping on the ripened grain,
As once upon the flower.

Visions of childhood! Stay, O stay!

Ye were so sweet and wild!

And distant voices seemed to say,
"It cannot be! They pass away!

Other themes demand thy lay,
Thou art no more a child!

xiv

PRELUDE.

"The land of Song within thee lies,
Watered by living springs;

The lids of Fancy's sleepless eyes

Are gates unto that Paradise,

Holy thoughts, like stars, arise,
Its clouds are angels' wings.

"Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, Not mountains capped with snow,

Nor forests sounding like the sea,

Nor rivers flowing ceaselessly,

Where the woodlands bend to see

The bending heavens below.

"There is a forest where the din

Of iron branches sounds!

A mighty river roars between,

And whosoever looks therein,

Sees the heavens all black with sin,

Sees not its depths, nor bounds.

"Athwart the swinging branches cast, Soft rays of sunshine pour,

Then comes the fearful wintry blast;

Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast; Pallid lips say, 'It is past!

We can return no more!'

"Look, then, into thine heart, and write!

Yes, into Life's deep stream!

All forms of sorrow and delight,
All solemn Voices of the Night,
That can soothe thee, or affright,-
Be these henceforth thy theme."

I heard the sounds of sorrow and deligh

The manifold, soft chimes,

That fill the haunted chambers of the Nig
Like some old poet's rhymes.

From the cool cisterns of the midnight air

My spirit drank repose;

The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,-
From those deep cisterns flows.

O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear

What man has borne before!

Thou lay

Peace! P

The welcome