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VISION.

Y subtile secrets of discovered law
Men well have measured the horizon's round,
Kept record of the speed of light and sound,
Have close defined by reasoning without flaw
The utmost human vision ever saw
Unaided, and have arrant sought and found
Devices countless to extend its bound.
Bootless their secrets all! My eyes but stray
To eastward, and majestic, bright, arise
Peaks of a range which three days distant lie buts!
And of the faces, too, that light my day
Most clear, one is a continent away,
The other shines above the farthest skies!

THE POET'S FORGE.

E lies on his back, the idling smith,
 A lazy, dreaming fellow is he;
The sky is blue, or the skyis gray,
He lies on his back the livelong day,
Not a tool in sight; say what they may,
 A curious sort of a smith is he.

The powers of the air are in league with him;
 The country around believes it well;