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Nor seldom there, as they repose,
Sheltered beside the murmuring streams, Bright angels meet them, and disclose The home they seek, in waking dreams.
The pleasant trees, the water's flow,
All whisper of a land they know,
And wake within them praise to God.
Thus oft refreshed, they journey on ;
May threaten ever and anon,
That melody is still within.
It plays among the hidden strings,
Of heaven-wrought texture, in the bosom,
That feel the viewless seraph's wings,
And answer to a waving blossom.
It is the music of the fane,
Where God abides in wondrous love, Echoing the distant angel strain
That fills His dwelling-place above.
Two temples doth Jehovah prize,
The other is the lowly heart.
In that He dwelleth as a Sun,
Radiant with majesty divine:
Enough, that He in very deed
Is there, and doth ' His name record: ' Enough, the faithful heart can read,
It is a temple of the Lord.
O, blessed are the meek and mild!
To them within the desert wild;
And what shall be their rest in Heaven!
THE LAUGHTER OF CHILDHOOD.
WHAT were the grove without the wild
The minstrel may describe the one;
His toil, and hastes to child and mother.
Or rather-for the words of men
Feebly from swelling hearts arise-
O, sweet it is in woods to roam,
And list the merry warblers wild! But sweeter far to hear at home
The dancing, laughing, joyous child!
Such happiness to-day is mine:
And yet, O yet, this heart would pray Far higher bliss of love divine
Than all that is vouchsafed to-day.
Give me, O God, ere long to hear
And changeful as the ocean foam,
But each in harmony serene,