Deep are his slumbers, but what form is that Which, through the moveless air, invisibly Has won its way, and now in youthful grace Sits by the aged sleeper, like some bud Of early spring, nestling beneath a stem Which winter's storms had buffeted, nor yet Loosed from its rigid fetters? No mortal mould Fashioned those gentle outlines! No bright skies, Or climes propitious, here, tinted the cheek, Or fired the beaming eye. No earthly loom Wove the fair texture, or its lustre lent Of dazzling whiteness to the snowy nest: No earthly soil the amaranthine wreath Nourished, which binds the clusters of his brow. Not of this sin-stained orb art thou; but say, Celestial visitant! (if lawful be

To ask) which of the heavenly hierarchies,

And bands of ministering spirits, has sped his course Upon this kind and gracious embassage,

And centinels the way-worn slumberer?

Thou art not he, methinks, on Mamre's plain,
Who with the Patriarch held communion high,
And deigned his hospitalities to share;
Then sped, the wrath-doomed cities to o'erthrow?
Nor canst thou be that Being illustrious,
(Not martial thou, but love's sweet messenger),
Who stood midst Israel's tribes, on Jordan's bank,
And "Captain of Jehovah's host" proclaimed him;
Nor that dread minister of heavenly wrath,

Of peace and hope, and of that crowning glory,
Those joys ineffable, which wait thee (not

To thine outward sense revealed) bestrew

With down thy rugged pillow! Here we leave thee
In thy cherubic charge, and heavenly tendence;
While, in a solemn retrospect, we trace

Thy course prophetical and wondroùs doings,
Unto this silent hour; and, in our story,
Humbly bespeak the aid, which those who seek
To trace the hallowed Word, and paint the deeds
Of God's great servants, shall not ask in vain!

"Watch o'er thee: earthly foes beset thy life, "But heavenly arms defend thee as a shield; "And I, thy fellow-servant of the God

"Thou serv'st so faithfully, so long, stand here,

To comfort thee, and speed thee on thy way."

From his deep slumber, at that gentle touch,
And those soft tones, the sleeper slowly roused.
As mists disperse before the morning beam,
And, one by one, reveal the chequered scenes
Of earth and air, so, slowly on his sense
Evolve life's stern realities from that sleep,
Toil-worn, and deep, and long; yet, for a time,
Amid the calm and stillness all around,

Mingle confused, in the vexed spirit's eye

And ear, past sights and sounds of grief and dread,—
Lewd fanes, and altars heaped obscene, and rites
Idolatrous; and strife, and imprecations dire;
And hot pursuit. But now those gentle tones
Fall on his ruffled ear, like harmonies

From Heaven, and touches of the golden harps
From choirs seraphic breathed; and the sweet looks
Of the angelic minister beside him,

Glow like bright beams from the celestial gates,
And glimpses of the radiances within.

He rises, and accepts the gracious bidding;
But soon his wearied senses ask once more
Nature's recruit; he sleeps again. Be soft
Thy slumber; kind thy dreams: let gentle visions

Of peace and hope, and of that crowning glory,
Those joys ineffable, which wait thee (not

To thine outward sense revealed) bestrew

With down thy rugged pillow! Here we leave thee
In thy cherubic charge, and heavenly tendence;
While, in a solemn retrospect, we trace
Thy course prophetical and wondroùs doings,
Unto this silent hour; and, in our story,
Humbly bespeak the aid, which those who seek
To trace the hallowed Word, and paint the deeds
Of God's great servants, shall not ask in vain!

CANTO II.

ELIJAH.

WHAT was the Prophet's parentage and race;
What, midst the chosen tribes, his father's place;
No record reaches us from sacred lore,

(So copious else,) nor boots it to explore.
Like that illustrious type,* so early given,
Of the great Priesthood yet to come from heaven-
The birth, the age, the generations, veiled―
As self-existent, both their times fulfilled.
Not thus their closing hours; the Kingly-priest
Took unrecorded his eternal rest;

Restored, like others of man's race, life's trust,
And, with his fellows, sought his parent-dust :
But Heaven upon the prophet's closing days
Shed floods of glory, and immortal rays;
Reversed for him our universal doom;
Spared him the dreary sojourn of the tomb;
And, in mortality's soiled garments dressed,
Received him to the mansions of the blest.

*Melchizedek.