THE ORPHAN'S VISION.
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But which shall grow mature in spheres above,Where love's bright eye is never dimmed with tears." Thus did the mother to the maiden speak,Then in her arms enfolded her, as sheWas wont to do when the unconscious smileOf infancy played on her lips, and onHer brow she pressed one holy kiss. O earth!Hast thou a measure for the wondrous depth,The tender purity, of mother-love? The vision vanished, and the orphan wokeAgain to consciousness of earthly things,But with the memory of that night impressedToo deeply on her soul to be effaced.And to her soul's eye ever from this timeAll earthly things were changed, and nature seemedIllumed with rays divine; the breezes mildBrought whisperings of heaven; and e'en the flowersThat bloomed so humbly in the wayside pathSeemed placed there by some wise directing hand.She gazed upon the mountains towering high,And on their brows she read—sublimity.She loved the grandeur of the midnight skies,The smiling beauty of the crimson morn.She thought upon the world within—the mind,With all its noble, its God-given powersOf fancy, reason, thought, more wondrous farThan all the vast material universe,
