EXTRACT I.

‘ Twas late — the sun had almost shone

His last and best when I ran on

Anxious to reach that splendid view

Before the daybeams quite withdrew

And feeling as all feel on first

Approaching scenes where, they are told,

Such glories on their eyes will burst

As youthful bards in dreams behold.

‘ Twas distant yet and as I ran

Full often was my wistful gaze

Turned to the sun who now began

To call in all his out-posts rays,

And form a denser march of light,

Such as beseems a hero's flight.

Oh, how I wisht for JOSHUA'S power,

To stay the brightness of that hour?

But no — the sun still less became,

Diminisht to a speck as splendid

And small as were those tongues of flame,

That on the Apostles’ heads descended!

‘ Twas at this instant — while there glowed

This last, intensest gleam of light —

Suddenly thro’ the opening road

The valley burst upon my sight!

That glorious valley with its Lake

And Alps on Alps in clusters swelling,

Mighty and pure and fit to make

The ramparts of a Godhead's dwelling.

I stood entranced — as Rabbins say

This whole assembled, gazing world

Will stand, upon that awful day,

When the Ark's Light aloft unfurled

Among the opening clouds shall shine,

Divinity's own radiant sign!

Mighty MONT BLANC, thou wert to me

That minute, with thy brow in heaven,

As sure a sign of Deity

As e'er to mortal gaze was given.

Nor ever, were I destined yet

To live my life twice o'er again,

Can I the deep-felt awe forget,

The dream, the trance that rapt me then!

‘ Twas all that consciousness of power

And life, beyond this mortal hour;—

Those mountings of the soul within

At thoughts of Heaven — as birds begin

By instinct in the cage to rise,

When near their time for change of skies;—

That proud assurance of our claim

To rank among the Sons of Light,

Mingled with shame — oh bitter shame!—

At having riskt that splendid right,

For aught that earth thro’ all its range

Of glories offers in exchange!

‘ Twas all this, at that instant brought

Like breaking sunshine o'er my thought —

‘ Twas all this, kindled to a glow

Of sacred zeal which could it shine

Thus purely ever man might grow,

Even upon earth a thing divine,

And be once more the creature made

To walk unstained the Elysian shade!

No, never shall I lose the trace

Of what I've felt in this bright place.

And should my spirit's hope grow weak,

Should I, oh God! e'er doubt thy power,

This mighty scene again I'll seek,

At the same calm and glowing hour,

And here at the sublimest shrine

That Nature ever reared to Thee

Rekindle all that hope divine

And feel my immortality!