CLASSICAL MODERN POETRY. 1/3 



Was made to walk the world in joy, to share 



Thy goodness, and adore the hand divine. 



Then look ! Thou Universal One, whose eye 



Is fixed alike on all, with mercy look 



Upon the spacious World ; from east to west, 



From north to south, extend Thy guardian care : 



In polar climes, in lands refined or rude, 



In isles remote, and deserts darkly spread, 



Where beats a heart within a human breast, 



There be Thou present, and Thy power adored ! 



And, oh ! since all are doom'd one common race 



To run, and one eternal goal to win, 



May Thy prime attribute each bosom warm 



With tender sympathy and truth ; may man 



Be link'd to man in fellowship of soul, 



Till one vast chain of Love embrace the world. 



R. MONTGOMERY. 



THE DOVE. 



The dove let loose in eastern skies, 



Returning fondly home, 

 Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies 



Where idle warblers roam ; 



But high she shoots through air and light, 



Above all low delay, 

 Where nothing earthly bounds her flight. 



Nor shadow dims her way. 



So grant me, God, from earthly care, 



From pride and passion free, 

 Aloft, through faith and love's pure air, 



To hold my course to thee. 



No lure to tempt, no art to stay 

 My soul, as home she springs ; 



Thy sunshine on her joyful way, 

 Thy freedom on her wings. 



MOORE. 



