Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Verses,
She , like a torch , with borro . v'd li ght Illuminates th' ethereal dome ; „ Strips oft" the g loomy veil of night , And guides the lonely traveller home . Nor these thy sole predestin'd laws—( Still more even human mind doth know !)
Thy grtvitating power doth cause Old Ocean ' s tides to ebb and flow ! Much yet remains of thee untold , Blest orb ! that doth our earth attend ; As what doth human eye behold , Which human mind can comprehend ?
The smallest objects , that present , This m :: rk of gratitude do call— . 5 O Lord , thy works how excellent 1 In wisdom hast thou made them all 1 * J . T . M'DONELD .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
( FROM MARINO . )
WHILE in sweet descant o ' er the golden string The Hebrew Youth his fl ying fingers drew , The tortur'd mind of Judah's envious King From its accustom'd pangs some respite knew ; And while the Thracian Bard , in plaintive strains
, Struck the deep sorrows of his tuneful shell , The guilty souls were loosen'd from their chains , And Music sooth'd th' avenging pow ' rs of Hell : But now , when leaving the star-spangled sphere , With heav ' nly sounds this Seraph strikes my ear , How can I still increasing Anguish prove ?
Is it , that heav ' nly harmony can fail To lull our cares , when earthly sounds prevail ? . Or that Hell sooner is appeas'd than Love ? C .
The Sigh And The Tear.
THE SIGH AND THE TEAR .
BY T . P . THE tear that bedews the sad eye , When my sorrow-fraught tale I unfold , The music of Sympathy ' s sigh , . .
Are dearer than silver or gold .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Verses,
She , like a torch , with borro . v'd li ght Illuminates th' ethereal dome ; „ Strips oft" the g loomy veil of night , And guides the lonely traveller home . Nor these thy sole predestin'd laws—( Still more even human mind doth know !)
Thy grtvitating power doth cause Old Ocean ' s tides to ebb and flow ! Much yet remains of thee untold , Blest orb ! that doth our earth attend ; As what doth human eye behold , Which human mind can comprehend ?
The smallest objects , that present , This m :: rk of gratitude do call— . 5 O Lord , thy works how excellent 1 In wisdom hast thou made them all 1 * J . T . M'DONELD .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
( FROM MARINO . )
WHILE in sweet descant o ' er the golden string The Hebrew Youth his fl ying fingers drew , The tortur'd mind of Judah's envious King From its accustom'd pangs some respite knew ; And while the Thracian Bard , in plaintive strains
, Struck the deep sorrows of his tuneful shell , The guilty souls were loosen'd from their chains , And Music sooth'd th' avenging pow ' rs of Hell : But now , when leaving the star-spangled sphere , With heav ' nly sounds this Seraph strikes my ear , How can I still increasing Anguish prove ?
Is it , that heav ' nly harmony can fail To lull our cares , when earthly sounds prevail ? . Or that Hell sooner is appeas'd than Love ? C .
The Sigh And The Tear.
THE SIGH AND THE TEAR .
BY T . P . THE tear that bedews the sad eye , When my sorrow-fraught tale I unfold , The music of Sympathy ' s sigh , . .
Are dearer than silver or gold .