232 



COtUMRA, 



THE r K W N T Vf (i It S ]i 1 1' r J R 



BY PELTA. 



Amid a green and solemn wood. 



Where woodbine twined, in grace, 

 A quiet, modest temple stood, 



And holy seemed the place ; 

 For pious men had gathered there — 



Matron, and gentle maid. 

 To bow in hushed and fervent prayer. 



To him, whose love hath made 

 Earth, with its beauty, and its light, 

 And heaven, with its far glories bright ! 



And o'er that crowd, which gathered tlie»i 



Came stiiless, calm and sweet, 

 And thoughtless youth, and reverend men 



Bowed low at Jesus' feet. 

 As sunlight shed a mellow sheen, 



And gladness steeped each soul, 

 Jiehold ! a snow-white Dove is seen. 



And gently in it stole, 

 Gliding on calm and beauteous wing, 

 'Mong the meek throng there worsliiping ' 



O gently perched, in holy trust. 



That fearful, trembling bird 

 Above that gathering of the just. 



And sat, as though it heard 

 The warhlings of the upper choir, 



While meek the humble sang 

 In notes that kindling joy inspire. 



As through the church, they rang, 

 Its glossy neck it gently bent, ^ 

 To catch the tones, so sweetly blent ' 



Emblem of peace and hope it seemml ' 



Tliat unwont visitant ! 

 A seraph light its soft eyes gleamed 



O'er saint and supplicant ! 

 And, a heavenly type, it stirred. 



In each hushed reverent breast, 

 Koinembrance of that cherished bird. 



That smoothed the flood to rest ; 

 Jlitri yet a holier need it brought, 

 IVit/i Love, and Grace, and Mrrry fKnizhit 



