POETRY. 551 



FROM MONTGOMERY'S WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD. 



The Death of Adam. 



" With hira his noblest sons might not compare, 

 In godlike feature and majestic air ; 

 Not out of weakness rose his gradual frame, 

 Perfect from his Creator's hand he came ; 

 And as in form excelling, so in mind 

 The Sire of men transcended all mankind : 

 A soul was in his eye, and in his speech 

 A dialect of heaven no art coald reach ; 

 For oft of old to him, the evening breeze 

 Had borne the voice of God among the trees ; 

 Angels were wont their songs with his to blend, 

 And talk with him as ^^eir familiar friend. 

 But deep remorse for that mysterious crime, 

 Whose dire contagion through elapsing time 

 Diffused the curse of death beyond control, 

 Had wrought such self-abasement in his soul. 

 That he, whose honours were approach'd by none. 

 Was yet the meekest man beneath the sun. 

 From sin, as from the serpent that betray'd 

 Eve's early innocence, he shrunk afraid ; 

 Vice he rebuked with so austere a frown, 

 He seem'd to bring an instant judgment down. 

 Yet while he chid, compunctious tears would start. 

 And yearning tenderness dissolve his heart ; 

 The guilt of all his race became his own. 

 He suffer'd as if he had sinn'd alone, 

 Within our glen, to filial love endear'd, 

 Abroad, for wisdom, truth, and justice fear'd. 

 He walk'd so humbly in the sight of all, 

 The vilest ne'er reproach'd him with his fall. 

 Children were his delight ; — they ran to meet 

 His soothing hand, and clasp his honour'd feet; 

 While 'midst their fearless sports supremely bjest, 

 He grew in heart a child among the rest : 

 Yet as a Parent, nought beneath the sky 

 Touch'd him so quickly as an infant's eye ; 

 Joy from its smile of happiness he caught. 

 Its flash of rage sent horror through his thought. 

 His smitten conscience felt as fierce a pain, 

 As if he fell from innocence again, 



