Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/48

 

Jehovah's name: and the dissolving fires,
That wait the mandate of the day of doom
To wreck the earth, shall find it deep inscrib'd
Upon thy rocky scroll.
The lofty trees,
That list thy teachings, scorn the lighter lore
Of the too fitful winds; while their young leaves
Gather fresh greenness from thy living spray,
Yet tremble at the baptism. Lo! yon birds,
How bold they venture near, dipping their wing
In all thy mist and foam. Perchance 'tis meet
For them to touch thy garment's hem, or stir
Thy diamond wreath, who sport upon the cloud,
Unblam'd, or warble at the gate of heaven
Without reproof. But, as for us, it seems
Scarce lawful, with our erring lips, to talk
Familiarly of thee.—Methinks, to trace
Thine awful features, with our pencil's point,
Were but to press on Sinai.
Thou dost speak
Alone of God, who pour'd thee as a drop
From his right hand,—bidding the soul that looks
Upon thy fearful majesty be still,
Be humbly wrapp'd in its nothingness,
And lose itself in Him.