There's quiet in that Angel's glance, Angel of Patience! sent to calm Oh! thou, who mournest on thy way, Robert Nicoll. 1814-1837. LINES WRITTEN IN PROSPECT OF DEATH.* THE dew is on the summer's greenest grass, A waving shadow on the corn-field keeps ; The sun shines sweetly sweeter may it shine! Although among green fields I cannot stray! Woods! I have grown, since last I heard you wave, Familiar now with death, and neighbor to the grave! *It is believed that this was the last, or among the very last, of Nicoll's compositions. These woods have shaken mighty human souls Are there not aspirations in each heart, Death comes to take me where I long to be; One pang, and then bright blooms th' immortal flower; Death comes to lead me from mortality To lands which know not one unhappy hour: I have a hope- a faith;- from sorrow here I'm led by death away—why should I start and fear? If I have loved the forest and the field, Can I not love them deeper, better, there? Freed from the grossness of mortality, May I not love them all, and better all enjoy? A change from woe to joy Death gives me this; — it leads me calmly where The souls that long ago from mine were riven May meet again! Death answers many a prayer. Bright day! shine on-be glad :- days brighter far Are stretched before my eyes than those of mortals are. I would be laid among the wildest flowers, I would be laid where happy hearts can come : Death is upon me, yet I fear not now:- That fills each alley, close, and copsewood nook: Miscellaneous. SONGS OF BEING. THE BIRTH. HAIL! new-waked atom of the Eternal whole, Hail, and forever! Pilgrim of life, all hail! He who at first called forth From nothingness the earth, Who clothed the hills in strength, and dug the sea, Who gave the stars to gem Night like a diadem, Thou little child, made thee; Young habitant of earth, Fair as its flowers, though brought in sorrow forth, Thou art akin to God who fashioned thee! |