EXTRACT FROM AN UNFINISHED POEM, ENTITLED “THE HEARTH.”

My soul, behold the beauty of his home!

The very heavens look down with gracious smiles

Upon its holy rest. How bright a green

Sleeps round the dwelling of two loving hearts!

The air lies hush'd above the peaceful roof,

As if it felt the sanctity within.

On glides the river with a tranquil flow,

Delighting in his music, as he bathes

The happy bounds where happiness doth stray.

— I see them sitting by each other's side,

In the heart's silent secrecy! I hear

The breath of meditation from their souls.

They speak: a soft, subduing tenderness,

Born of devotion, innocence and bliss,

Steals from their bosoms in a silver voice

That makes a pious hymning melody.

They look: a gleam of light as sadly sweet

As if they listen'd to some mournful tale,

Swims in their eyes that almost melt to tears.

They smile: oh! never did such languor steal

From lustre of two early-risen stars

When all the silent heavens appear their own.

And lo! an infant shews his gladsome face!

His beautiful and shining golden head

Lies on his mother's bosom, like a rose

Fallen on a lilied bank. A dewy light

Meets the soft smiling of his upward eye,

As in the playful restlessness of joy

He clings around her neck, and fondly strives

To reach the kisses mantling from her soul.

— And now, the baby in his cradle sleeps,

Hush'd by his mother's prayer! How soft her tread

Falls, like a snow-flake, on the noiseless floor!

She almost fears to breathe too fond a sigh

Towards the father of her darling child.

— Sleep broods o'er all the house: the mother's heart,

Beating within her husband's folding arms,

Dreams of sweet looks of waking happiness,

Unceasing greetings of congenial thought,

Deep blendings of existence; till awoke

By the long stirring of delightful dreams,

She with a silent prayer of thankfulness

Leans gently-breathing on the breast of love!

Can guilt or misery ever enter here?

Ah! no; the spirit of domestic peace,

Though calm and gentle as the brooding dove,

And ever murmuring forth a quiet song,

Guards, powerful as the sword of cherubim,

The hallow'd porch. She hath a heavenly smile

That sinks into the sullen soul of vice,

And wins him o'er to virtue, so transforms

The purpose of his heart, that sudden shame

Smothers the curses struggling into birth,

And makes him turn an eye of kindliness

Even on the blessings that he came to blast.

It is a lofty thought, O guardian love!

To think that he who lives beneath thine eye

Can never be polluted. Pestilence,

The dire, contagious pestilence of sin

May walk abroad, and lay its victims low;

But they, whose upright spirits worship thee,

Breathe not the tainted air — they live apart

Unharm'd, as Israel's heaven-protected sons,

When the exterminating angel pass'd

With steps of blood o'er Egypt's groaning land.

Then ever keep unbroken and unstained

The sabbath-sanctity of home; the shrine

Where spirit in its rapture worships God.

By Heaven beloved for ever are the walls

That duly every morn and evening hear

Our whisper'd hymns! Eternity broods there.

Yea! like a father smiling on a band

Of happy children, the Almighty One

Dwells in the midst of us, appearing oft

In visible glory, while our filial souls,

Made pure beneath the watching of his eye,

Walk stately in the conscious praise of Heaven!