For, some imperfection in creatures
Is still the true law of their life,
Unequal, of opposite natures,

With matter and spirit at strife;
And thus, from all earliest beginning,
Benevolence wrought in full strength
To rescue creation from sinning

Established in pureness at length,—

Established on GOD The Redemption,
As grafted in Him yet again,
By destined and suffered preemption
Through future temptation and pain:

And still as a sacrifice showeth

The GOD in His phase as a Son,

For ever henceforth,-and, who knoweth ? From the date of Creation begun.

Since, never hath been the sad season
When sternly in solitude deep
(Revelation so whispers to reason)
Love's energy languish'd asleep :
For, even the Great Divine Essence
Though One was companion'd as Three,
Ubiquity's focussing Presence,

The spark-seed of beings to be.

And when, as it pleased the Creator

This lowlier universe grew Through æons of oldtime, or later

When Earth with its Adam was new,

THE STORM.

Redemption to perfect Creation

Was still the Good Father's behest,

That matter might shine in high station
Of Spirit's own pureness possest.

Thus, Saviour and Lover and Brother!
We welcome in God being man
From reason and scripture none other
Than God's philosophical plan,

As adding Himself to the creature
He made in His infinite love
And lightening and lifting its nature
To cleanse it for glories above!

These planet-worlds rolling outside us
So lightsome and glorious and great
May well be the homes that abide us
When come to the heavenly state;
Many mansions are there, many treasures,
Which Christ The Redeemer prepares

For spurners of sin and its pleasures
The children of God and His heirs!

Four Extracts from "Geraldine."

I. THE STORM.

HUSH! how heavily droops the night

In sultry silence, calm as death;

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Gloomy and hot, and yet no light,
Save where the glow-worm wandereth;
For the moon hath stolen by,
Mantled in the stormy sky,
And there is a stillness strange,
An awful silence, boding change,
As if live Nature held her breath,
And all in agony listeneth
Some terror undefined to hear,
Coming, coming, coming near!

Hush'd is the beetle's drowsy hum,

And the death-watch's roll on his warning drum, Hush'd the raven, and screech-owl,

And the famishing wolf on his midnight prowl

Silent as death.

Hark, hark! he is here; he has come from afar, The black-robed Storm in his terrible car;

Vivid the forkèd lightning flashes,

Quick behind the thunder crashes,

Clattering hail, a shingly flood,

Rattles like grape-shot in the wood ;

And the whole forest is bent one way,

Bowing as slaves to a tyrant's sway,

While the foot of the tempest hath trampled and

broke

Many a stout old elm and oak!

EARLY MORNING.

II. EARLY MORNING.

How fresh and fair is morn!

The dew-beads, dropping bright,
Each humble flower adorn

With coronets bedight,
And jewel the rough thorn
With tiny globes of light,-
How beautiful is morn!

Her scattered gems how bright!
There is a quiet gladness

In the waking earth,

Like the face of sadness

Lit with chastened mirth ;

There is a mine of treasure

In those hours of health,

Filling up the measure

Of creation's wealth.

The eye of day hath opened gray,

And the gallant Sun

Hath trick'd his beams by Rydal's streams,

And waveless Coniston;

From Langdale Pikes his glory strikes,

From heath and giant hill,

From many a tairn, and stone-built cairn,

And many a mountain rill:

Helvellyn bares his forehead black,

And Eagle-crag and Saddleback,
And Skiddaw hails the dawning day,

And rolls his robe of cloud away.

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III. YOUNG LOVERS.

ALAS! they had loved too soon, too well,
Young Amador and Christabel;

Life's dawn beheld them, blythe and bland,
Little playmates, band in hand,

Over fell and field and heather
Wandering innocent together,
Alone in childhood's rosy hours
Straying far to find wild flowers;
Life's sun above its eastern hill
Saw them inseparable still,

In the bower, or by the brook,
Or spelling out the monkish book,
Or as with songs they wont to wake
The echoes on the hill-bound lake,
Or as with tales to while away

The winter's night, or summer's day.
Life's noon was blazing bright and fair,
To smile upon the same fond pair,
The handsome youth, the beauteous maid,
Together still in sun or shade:

Warmer, good sooth, than wont with friends,
While he supports, and she depends,
As to some dangerous craggy height

They climb with terror and delight,
Nor guess that the strange joy they feel,

The rapture making their hearts reel,

Springs from aught else than sweet Grasmere, Or hill and valley far and near,