"My spirit beats her mortal bars
As down dark tides the glory glides,
Then, star-like, mingles with the stars."—TENNYSON.

Oh, restful peace of night! The balmy air
Laden with myriad sounds of things so fair,
The waving branches, and the leaves' low whispering
The wondrous songs the winding river sings,
That through the meadow-lands and forest ways,
By flowery nooks, and glades, and valleys strays.

Oh! shadowy time of dreams, and mysteries,
And longing hopes! Far in the dark blue skies
The star-worlds glimmer brightly through the night;
The flowers are sleeping that at close of day
Wept dew-tears, as the sun's last fading light
From glen and moor land slowly passed away,
When amorous zephyrs wooed them softly sighing
In odorous breaths, as eve's last glow was dying.

Oh! stars, that through the darkness smile and gleam,
Like glory-rays that gild the dreary gloom,
Or like some soul-world glance or mystic dream
That from the mind's vast store of summer bloom
We feel at times—your influence comes to raise
Our hearts above earth's night of doubts and haze
For all these holy thoughts of peace, that spring
From hearts at rest from daytime cares and pains,
Are messengers of love, sent from the King
That in the blessed country lives and reigns.
And from its gates, above the starry heaven,
Come mystic rays that round our pathway stray—
His guiding lights that to our souls are given,
Foretastes that cheer and brighten all our way!