THE EAR OF FAITH.

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The Ear of Faith.

I HAVE seen

A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
Of inland ground, applying to his ear
The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell:
To which, in silence hush'd, his very soul
Listen'd intensely ;-and his countenance soon
Brighten'd with joy; for murm'rings from within
Were heard sonorous cadences! whereby,
To his belief, the monitor express'd
Mysterious union with its native sea.
Even such a shell the universe itself
Is to the ear of Faith,

There was Silence in Heaven.

CAN angel-spirits need repose

In the full sun-light of the sky?
And can the vail of slumber close
A cherub's bright and dazzling eye?

Have seraphim a weary brow,

A fainting heart, an aching breast?
No! for too high their pulses flow
To languish with inglorious rest.

How could they sleep amid the bliss,
The banquet of delight above?
Or bear for one short hour to miss
The vision of the Lord they love?

O! not the death-like calm of sleep
Could still the everlasting song!
No fairy dream, no slumber deep,

Entrance the rapt and holy throng!

THERE WAS SILENCE IN HEAVEN. 159

Yet not the lightest tone was heard
From angel voice, or angel hand;
And not one plumèd pinion stirr'd
Among the bowed and blissful band.

For there was silence in the sky,
A joy not angel tongues could tell,
As from its mystic font on high
The peace of God in silence fell.

O what is silence here below-
The quiet of conceal'd despair?
The pause of pain, the dream of woe?
It is the rest of rapture there.

And to the way-worn pilgrim here,

More kindred seems the perfect peace

Than the full chant of joy to hear

Roll on, and never, never cease.

From earthly agonies set free,

Tired with the path too slowly trod,

May such a silence welcome me
Into the palace of my God!

Contemplation.

HE sat within a silent cave, apart

From men, upon a chair of diamond stone; Words he had not, companions he had none, But steadfastly pursued his thoughtful árt; And as he mused he pulled a slender string Which evermore within his hands he held; And the dim curtain rose, which had concealed His thoughts; the city of the immortal King,— There, pictured in its solemn pomp it lay, A glorious country stretching round about, And through its golden gates, pass'd in and out Men of all nations, on their heavenly way. On this he mused, and mused the whole day long,

Feeding his feeble faith till it grew strong,