POETRY. 655 



* Your sunless shadows o'er my limbs diffuse, 



* Ye Cedars ! wash me cold with midnight dews. 



— * Chear me, my friends ; with looks of kindness cheer ; 

 ' Whisper a word of comfort in mine ear ; 



* Those sorrowing faces fill my soul with gloom ; 



* This silence is the silence of the tomb. 



* Thither I hasten ; help me on the way, 



* O sing to soothe me, and, to strengthen, pray !" 

 We sang to soothe him ; — hopeless was the song ; 

 We pray'd to strengthen him ; — he grew not strong. 

 In vain from every herb, and fruit, and flower, 



Of cordial sweetness, or of healing power. 



We press'd the virtue ; no terrestrial balm 



Nature's dissolving agony could calm. 



Thus as the day declined, the fell disease 



Eclipsed the light of life by slow degrees : 



Yet while his pangs grew sharper, more resign'd, 



More self-collected grew the sufferer's mind ; 



Patient of heart, though rack'd at every pore, 



The righteous penalty of sin he bore ; 



Not his the fortitude that mocks at pains, 



But that which feels them most, and yet sustains. 



— * 'Tis just, 'tis merciful,' we heard him say ; 



' Yet wherefore hath he turn'd his face away ? 



* I see Him not; I hear Him not ; I call ; 



' My God 1 ray God 1 support me, or I fall.' 



" The sun went down, amidst an angry glare 

 Of flushing clouds, that crimson'd all the air ; 

 The winds brake loose ; the forest boughs were torn, 

 And dark aloof the eddying foliage borne ; 

 Cattle to shelter scudded in affright ; 

 The florid Evening vanish'd into night : 

 Then burst the hurricane upon the vale. 

 In peals of thunder, and thick vollied hail ; 

 Prone rushing rains with torrents whelra'd the land, 

 Our cot amidst a river seem'd to stand ; 

 Around its base, the foamy-crested streams 

 Flash'd thro' the darkness to the lightning's gleams. 

 With monstrous throes an earthquake heaved the ground, 

 The rocks were rent, the mountains trembled round ; 

 Never since Nature into being came, 

 Had such mysterious motion shook her frame ; 

 We thought, ingulpht in floods, or wrapt in fire, 

 The world itself would perish with our Sire : 



" Amidst this war of elements, within 

 More dreadful grew the sacrifice of sin. 



