THE CHANTING CHERUBS — A GROUP BY GREENOUGH

WHENCE Come ye, Cherubs ? from the moon?

Or from a shining star?

Ye sure are sent, a blessed boon,

From kinder worlds afar;

For, while I look, my heart is all delight: Earth has no creatures half so pure and bright.

From moon nor star we hither flew;
The moon doth wane away,
The stars they pale at morning dew;
We're children of the day;

Nor change, nor night, was ever ours to bear;

Eternal light, and love, and joy, we share.

Then, sons of light, from Heaven above
Some blessed news ye bring.
Come ye to chant eternal love

And tell how angels sing,

And in your breathing, conscious forms.

show

How purer forms above live, breathe, and glow?

Our parent is a human mind;

His winged thoughts are we;

To sun nor stars are we confined:
We pierce the deepest sea.

Moved by a brother's call, our Father

bade

Us light on earth, and here our flight is stayed.

THE MOSS SUPPLICATETH FOR THE POET

THOUGH I am humble, slight me not, But love me for the Poet's sake; Forget me not till he 's forgot,

For care or slight with him I take.

For oft he passed the blossoms by And turned to me with kindly look; Left flaunting flowers and open sky,

And wooed me by the shady brook. And like the brook his voice was low:

So soft, so sad the words he spoke,

THE birds their love-notes warble
Among the blossomed trees;

The flowers are sighing forth their sweets
To wooing honey-bees;

The glad brook o'er a pebbly floor

Goes dancing on its way,

But not a thing is so like spring
As happy Alice Ray.

An only child was Alice,

And, like the blest above,

The gentle maid had ever breathed

An atmosphere of love;

Her father's smile like sunshine came,

Like dew her mother's kiss;

Their love and goodness made her home,

Like heaven, the place of bliss.

Beneath such tender training, The joyous child had sprung,

But then her eyes were love-lit stars,
Her teeth as pure as pearl.

And when in merry laughter

Her sweet, clear voice was heard, It welled from out her happy heart

Like carol of a bird;

And all who heard were moved to

And gladness round her flung;

And all who met her blessed her,
And turned again to pray

That grief and care might ever spare
The happy Alice Ray.

The gift that made her charming
Was not from Venus caught;

Nor was it, Pallas-like, derived
From majesty of thought;

Her heathful cheek was tinged with brown,
Her hair without a curl

She thought of grief and pain As giants in the olden time,

That ne'er would come again; The seasons all had charms for her, She welcomed each with joy, The charm that in her spirit lived No changes could destroy.

Her heart was like a fountain,
The waters always sweet,
Her pony in the pasture,
The kitten at her feet,

SCENE.

THE DEMON-LOVER

FROM "HADAD"

The terraced roof of ABSALOM'S house, by night; adorned with vases of flowers, and fragrant shrubs; an awning spread over part of it. TAMAR and HADAD.

Tam. No, no, I well remember-proofs, you said,

Unknown to Moses.

Had. Well, my love, thou knowest I've been a traveller in various climes; Trod Ethiopia's scorching sands, and scaled The snow-clad mountains; trusted to the deep;

Traversed the fragrant islands of the sea, And with the Wise conversed of many nations.

Tam. I know thou hast.
Had.

Of all mine eyes have seen, The greatest, wisest, and most wonderful, Is that dread sage, the Ancient of the

Mountain.

Tam. Who?

Had. None knows his lineage, age, or name: his locks

Are like the snows of Caucasus; his eyes
Beam with the wisdom of collected ages.
In green, unbroken years, he sees, 't is said,
The generations pass, like autumn fruits,
Garnered, consumed, and springing fresh to
life,

Again to perish, while he views the sun,
The seasons roll, in rapt serenity,
And high communion with celestial powers.
Some say 't is Shem, our father, some say
Enoch,

And some Melchizedek.

Inscribed on Moses' rod, by which he wrought

Unheard of wonders, which constrains the Heavens

To part with blessings, shakes the earth, and rules

The strongest Spirits; or if God hath given A delegated power, I cannot tell.

But 't was from him I learned their fate, their fall,

Who, erewhile, wore resplendent crowns in Heaven;

Now, scattered through the earth, the air, the sea.

Them he compels to answer, and from them
Has drawn what Moses, nor no mortal ear,
Has ever heard.

Tam.
But did he tell it thee?
Had. He told me much, more than I
dare reveal;

Drew such dire punishment? Had.

As the All-Perfect.

Tam.

The wish to be

Arrogating that

Peculiar to his Maker!-awful crime ! But what their doom? their place of punishment?

Had. Above, about, beneath; earth, sea,

and air;

Their habitations various as their minds, Employments, and desires.

Tam. But are they round us, Hadad? - not confined

-

In penal chains and darkness?
Had.

So he said;
And so your holy books infer. What saith
Your Prophet? what the Prince of Uz ?
Tam.
I shudder,
Lest some dark Minister be near us now.
Had. You wrong them. They are bright
Intelligences,

Robbed of some native splendor, and cast down,

'Tis true, from Heaven; but not deformed, and foul,

Revengeful, malice-working Fiends, as fools

Suppose. They dwell, like Princes, in the clouds;

Sun their bright pinions in the middle sky;
Or arch their palaces beneath the hills,
With stones inestimable studded so,
That sun or stars were useless there.
Tam.
Good heavens !
Had. He bade me look on rugged Cau

casus,

Crag piled on crag beyond the utmost ken Naked, and wild, as if creation's ruins Were heaped in one immeasurable chain Of barren mountains, beaten by the storms Of everlasting winter. But within