to beautiful Dian: yes, the spirit of resignation evinces she has powers which shall endure until all material demonstrations are passed away; she shall live and muse eternally:—
But that tall castle height must fall,
The mountain where the golden sun has hid,
The rocks where lonely eagles sullen rest,
The peaceful valley with orient honours clad,
The boundaries of the raging billows' crest,
The burning stars in their supernal vault,
Must render up their native majesty,
When the shrill trumpet of the angel sound;
But the soft notes of Resignation's voice
Shall join the choir of heaven's great palaces,
And rest for aye in holy presence there.
No noise, no care, no vanity, no strife attend this placid spirit; no haughty passion there. From a base world she wanders away; by streamlet and sequestered grove she steps and watches the gay lark, poised with gallant joys, to chant at Heaven's great gate to angels' ears. A pure ethereal calm glows over her face. Far above the reach of court intrigue, ambition's promises, and lure of gold, mean purposes and vain desires, she asks no joy, but that of virtuous peace, and dares the haughtiest storm of fate to rend that jewel from her breast. She inhabits a temple decked with amaranthine flowers, which no blast can kill; it is built with stones of crystal, through which her piercing eye is ever contemplating heaven. The misery of duplicity, temptation, and human infirmities is now unknown to her; she bids the wild earth roll, for she is shut in with God. She is a revelation of love; a beam of divinity, influencing and shining through those dark clouds which attend the mortal body. She is not compelled to beg her daily happiness from others.
"Of God she sings, and of the mild
