196 "HE SHALL SIT AS A REFINER."

Not with an evanescent glimpse alone,

As in that mirror the refiner's face;

But, stampt with heaven's broad signet, there be shown

Immanuel's features, full of truth and grace; And round that seal of love this motto be,

"Not for a moment, but-Eternity!"

MONTGOMERY.

A

QUA CURSUM VENTUS.

S ships becalmed at eve, that lay

With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail at dawn of day

Are scarce long leagues apart descried;

When fell the night, up sprung the breeze,
And all the darkling hours they plied,

Nor dreamt but each the selfsame seas
By each was cleaving, side by side:

E'en so-but why the tale reveal

Of those whom year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew to feel,

Astounded, soul from soul estranged.

198

QUA CURSUM VENTUS.

At dead of night their sails were filled,

And onward each rejoicing steered— Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,

Or wist, what first with dawn appeared!

To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,
Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides,-
To that, and your own selves, be true.

But O blithe breeze! and O great seas,
Though ne'er, that earliest parting past,

On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last.

One port, methought, alike they sought,
One purpose hold where'er they fare,
O bounding breeze! O rushing seas!
At last, at last, unite them there!

A. H. CLOUGH.

LLAH!" was all night long the cry of one

oppressed with care,

Till softened was his heart, and sweet became his lips with prayer.

Then near the subtle tempter stole, and spake : "Fond babbler, cease!

For not one Here am I' has God e'er sent to give thee peace."

With sorrow sank the suppliant's soul, and all his senses fled.

But lo! at midnight, the good angel, Chirer, came, and said:

"What ails thee now, my child, and why art thou

And why thy former love dost thou repent? declare

and say."

Cast off, methinks I am, and warned far from His gracious throne."

To whom the angel answered: "Hear the word from God I bear.

'Go, tell,' He said, 'yon mourner, sunk in sorrow and despair,

Each Lord appear' thy lips pronounce, contains my 'Here am I;'

A special messenger I send beneath thine every

sigh;

Thy love is but a girdle of the love I bear to thee,

And sleeping in thy Come, O Lord!' there lies

'Here, Son!' from Me."

ALGER'S POETRY OF THE EAST."