1830-40.] Y/ILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, 139 In the dim, distant west, The vulture, scenting thence its carrion- fare, Sails, slowly circling through the sunny air. Sobei'ly, in the shade, Repose the patient cow, and toil-worn ox ; Or in the shoal stream wade, Sheltered by jutting rocks : The fleecy flock, fly-scourg'd and restless, rush Madly from fence to fence, from bush to bush. Tediously pass the hours. And vegetation wilts, with blistered root — And droop the thirsting flow'rs. Where the slant sunbeams shoot: But of each tall old tree, the lengthening line, Slow-creeping eastward, marks the day's decline. Faster, along the plahi. Moves now the shade, and on the meadow's edge : The kine are forth again, Birds flitter in the hedge. Now in the molten west sinks the hot sun. Welcome, mild eve ! — the sultry day is done. Pleasantly comest thou, Dew of the evening, to the crisp'd-up grass ; And the curl'd corn-blades bow, As the light breezes pass. That their parch'd lips may feel thee, and expand. Thou sweet reviver of the fevered land. So, to the thirsting soul, Cometh the dew of the Almighty's love ; And the scathed heart, made whole, Turneth in joy above. To where the spirit freely may expand. And rove, untrammel'd, in that "better land." MAY. Would that thou couldst last for aye, Merry, ever-merry May ! Made of sun-gleams, shade and showers. Bursting buds, and breathing flowers ; Di'ipping-lock'd, and rosy-vested, Violet-slippered, rainbow-crested ; Girdled with the eglantine, Festoon'd with the dewy vine : Merry, ever-merry May, Would that thou couldst last for aye ! Out beneath thy morning sky ! Dian's bow still hangs on high ; And in the blue depths afar. Glimmers, here and there, a solitary star. Diamonds robe the bending grass. Glistening early flowers among — ■ Monad's world, and fairy's glass. Bathing fount for wandering sprite — ■ By mysterious fingers hung. In the lone and quiet night. Now the freshening breezes pass — Gathering, as they steal along. Rich perfume, and matin song — And quickly to destruction hurl'd Is fairy's diamond glass, and monad's dew- drop world. Lo ! yon cloud, which hung but now Black upon the mountain's brow. Threatening the green earth with storm — See ! it heaves its giant form. And, ever changing shape and hue. But still presenting something new, Moves slowly up, and spreading rolls away Toward the rich purple streaks that usher in the day ; Bright'ning, as it onward goes. Until its very center glows With the warm, cheering light, the coming sun bestows : As the passing Christian's soul, Nearing the celestial goal. Bright and brighter grows, till God il- lumes the Whole.
