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Article TO THE EDITOR. ← Page 2 of 2
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To The Editor.
They stam p the mind—as meteors of the sky , Though come and gone , are present to the eye-Fair they may he—or gaudy—rich or bright—Or sad—or solemn—dark , perchance , as night ; And though those periods we may not define , They serve as land-marks on the field of time . All who have thought , have felt such hidden power Direct their musings in some fitful hour .
Once , sir , I ventured through the Atlantic ' s roar To view the wonders on Columbia ' s shore ; And since I wandered ' neath the forest shade , My thoughts—at times in gloomy garb array'd Rise on my mind , and bring me back each s ' cene Pure pictured forth , as landscapes of a dream—And onl ythose who ' neath such shade have stood
; And woo'd alone the muse of solitude—Can know , can feel the cravings that remain Within my breast to drink that gloom again ! There—all is still apart from human toil—There—all is calm upon the virgin soil—There—all is solitude and shade unseen AVithin the precincts of this land of dream
. No being mars this nature-reared abode , To draw our musings from creation ' s God . His hand alone , hath reared each forest tree , His laws control all that we hear and see . Those pillars that by vegetation rise .
And that fair canopy , the azure skies , Are but materials , that are used to raise A mighty temple to our Maker ' s praise ! A heart profane should fly this sacred waste ; It ne ' er the spotless purity could taste;—A conscience tainted with the crackling mirth Of giddy fools , should fly this spot of earth .
But when a being , on whose thirsting soul The lamp of knowledge sheds its soi ' t control-Hears the low echo of his footstep ' s treatl Rise on the stillness of the forest shade , And , slowly swelling , dwells a moment round , Then fades , and leaves the stillness more profound ' Like d ying torch within a cloister'd pile-Showing the darkness that prevails the while , He pauses to reflect , his thoughts expand For all he views are from his Maker ' s hand !
Adieu , sir . Should the fate that meets us all , Still , for a while , delay on me to fall , Again I may , in simpleness and love , ( Relying on our Architect above ) Commune with thee , although my wavering mind Can never hope a resting-place to find . Debarr'd by man , our yielding sex must wait , Without the precincts of your temple <* ate BtmhsofTyne , Nov ,. \ mK . " HKLK . Y .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To The Editor.
They stam p the mind—as meteors of the sky , Though come and gone , are present to the eye-Fair they may he—or gaudy—rich or bright—Or sad—or solemn—dark , perchance , as night ; And though those periods we may not define , They serve as land-marks on the field of time . All who have thought , have felt such hidden power Direct their musings in some fitful hour .
Once , sir , I ventured through the Atlantic ' s roar To view the wonders on Columbia ' s shore ; And since I wandered ' neath the forest shade , My thoughts—at times in gloomy garb array'd Rise on my mind , and bring me back each s ' cene Pure pictured forth , as landscapes of a dream—And onl ythose who ' neath such shade have stood
; And woo'd alone the muse of solitude—Can know , can feel the cravings that remain Within my breast to drink that gloom again ! There—all is still apart from human toil—There—all is calm upon the virgin soil—There—all is solitude and shade unseen AVithin the precincts of this land of dream
. No being mars this nature-reared abode , To draw our musings from creation ' s God . His hand alone , hath reared each forest tree , His laws control all that we hear and see . Those pillars that by vegetation rise .
And that fair canopy , the azure skies , Are but materials , that are used to raise A mighty temple to our Maker ' s praise ! A heart profane should fly this sacred waste ; It ne ' er the spotless purity could taste;—A conscience tainted with the crackling mirth Of giddy fools , should fly this spot of earth .
But when a being , on whose thirsting soul The lamp of knowledge sheds its soi ' t control-Hears the low echo of his footstep ' s treatl Rise on the stillness of the forest shade , And , slowly swelling , dwells a moment round , Then fades , and leaves the stillness more profound ' Like d ying torch within a cloister'd pile-Showing the darkness that prevails the while , He pauses to reflect , his thoughts expand For all he views are from his Maker ' s hand !
Adieu , sir . Should the fate that meets us all , Still , for a while , delay on me to fall , Again I may , in simpleness and love , ( Relying on our Architect above ) Commune with thee , although my wavering mind Can never hope a resting-place to find . Debarr'd by man , our yielding sex must wait , Without the precincts of your temple <* ate BtmhsofTyne , Nov ,. \ mK . " HKLK . Y .