  ADVERSITY. We sometimes strike the madman to the earth, And mercy deals the pain-inflicting blow, That body's suffering may give reason birth, And with slight anguish mitigate much wo. When 'neath the surgeon's hand the patient lies, Whose mortifying limb requires the knife, With fortitude he bears his agonies, Nor heeds the torture that will save his life. Thus heaven doth strike us with adversity, Thus should we bow to its omniscient will; Then through dark clouds bright sunshine we should see And sweetest comfort draw from direst ill. All is not sad, that to us seems to be, Nor all adverse, we call adversity. AGES. Ages! to trace thy path, my curious eye Pierces the vista of forgotten time: Ye awe me with your vast sublimity, Ye moving mysteries, that will consign The breathing form that wonders at your might, Like unto myriads o'er whom ye have swept, To the dark lethe of impris'ning night; Where I must sleep, and where they long have slept. Like the majestic ocean's waves ye roll, Which o'er the sweetest, fondest memories ride, Slow journeying toward your destined goal, With all of earth mysteriously allied. Sweep on, Time's chroniclers! yourselves shall be Engulphed at last in vast eternity! ANGELS. The infant sleeping on its mother's breast, Or seeking in her eye a sunny smile— The heart that boasts as calm and pure a rest, As spotless, and as free from earthly guile; The eye that weeps calamity to see, The hand that opens in its might to give; The crushed and sinking heart, that yearns to be Bathed in His blood who died that it might live; The pure out-gushings of the fervent soul, The God-like thoughts that raise our hearts to heaven, Have each an Angel's spirit; and control The sordid clay, to shrine our spirits given. This is all felt—but Nature bids us trace The Angel in earth's glory—woman's face. |
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