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MORNING PRAYER.

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Morning Prayer.

FROM THE GERMAN OF EICHENDORF.

O SILENCE, Wondrous and profound!
O'er earth doth solitude still reign;
The woods alone incline their heads,
As if the Lord walk'd o'er the plain.

I feel new life within me glow;

Where now is my distress and care?
Here in the blush of waking morn
I blush at yesterday's despair.

To me, a pilgrim, shall the world,
With all its joys and sorrows, be
But as a bridge that leads, O Lord!
Across the stream of Time to thee.

And should my song woo worldly gifts,
The base rewards of vanity:

Dash down my lyre! I'll hold my peace
Before thee to eternity.

May- Flowers.

ROSE! Rose ! open thy leaves!
Spring is whispering love to thee.
Rose! Rose ! open thy leaves!

Near is the nightingale on the tree.
Open thy leaves!

Open thy leaves!

And fill with balm-breath the sun-lit eaves.

Lily! Lily! awake, awake!

The fairy watcheth her flowery boat.

Lily! Lily! awake, awake!

O! set thy scent-laden bark afloat.

Lily awake!

Lily awake!

And cover with leaves the sleeping lake.

Flowers! Flowers! come forth, 't is spring! Stars of the woods, the hills and the dells!

MAY-FLOWERS.

Fair valley Lilies, come forth, and ring
In your green turrets your silvery bells!
Flowers, come forth!

'Tis spring! 't is spring!

And beauty in field and woodland dwells.

6*

129

The Mansion of Rest.

I TALKED to my fluttering heart,
And chid its wild wandering ways;
I urged it from folly to part,

And husband the rest of its days.
I bade it no longer admire

The meteors that fancy had dress'd;
I whisper'd 't was time to retire,
And seek for a Mansion of Rest.

A charmer was list'ning the while, Who caught up the tone of my lay: "O! come, then," she cried, with a smile, "And I'll show you the place and the way."

I follow'd the witch to her home,

And vow'd to be always her guest; "Nevermore," I exclaim'd, "will I roam In search of a Mansion of Rest."

THE MANSION OF REST.

But the sweetest of moments will fly;
Not long was my fancy beguiled,
For too soon I confess'd, with a sigh,

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That the syren deceived while she smiled. Deep, deep did she stab the repose

Of my trusting and unwary breast, Till the door of each avenue closed That led to the Mansion of Rest.

Then Friendship enticed me to stray
Through the long magic wiles of Romance;
But I found that she meant to betray,
And shrunk from the sorcerer's glance.
For experience has taught me to know
That the soul who reclines on his breast,

May toss on the billows of woe,

And ne'er find the Mansion of Rest.

Pleasure's path I determined to try,
But Reason I met in the way;
Conviction flash'd light from her eye,
And appear'd to illumine my way.
She cried as she show'd me the grave,

With nettles and wild flowers dress'd,
O'er which the dark cypress did wave,

"Behold there the Mansion of Rest!"

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