1840-50.] REBECCA S. NICHOLS. 301 Wide grave, to which the morrows all are whirled, By Time's steep car that ne'er has paused to rest, Since first its wheels went circling round our world, Wearing deep furrows in its rocky breast. Through the long yesterday of cycles past, We grope, to find a self-illumined page, Which like a star within a dreary vast. Reveals but darkness of a by-gone age. We read that man who turned aside from God, Begot a loathsome leprosy within ; Incarnadined his hands with brother's blood. And made foul sacrifice to new-born sin. Death and destruction followed in his path; Fair Knowledge shrieked and hid her from his gaze ; The slave of Ignorance, man's cruel wrath Stamped with red guilt those early evil days. This night of horror past, the dawning came ; Now, beauteous feet of Wisdom walk the Earth ; On Freedom's altar burns a heavenly flame, The world rejoices in its second birth ! Fair sons of Science, revel in the light ! Your star shall pierce all hidden depths of things ; Teacher and Toiler, your task unite, And crowns shall prove the empty dream of kings. The watch-words, "Peace, Good-will" from man to man, Those golden lessons by the Meek One taught. Which down the serried lines of ages ran. Until To-day's blessed liberty they wrought. "Peace and Good-will!" transcendent words of power. Written in stars upon the azure way ; Guides of the year, and guardians of the hour. Our promise yesterday — our hope To- day ! SLEEP. I SAID to Sleep, That dreamy-lidded seraph of delight. Stealing from caves Where muffled darkness laves The haunted shores of night — Come^ thou, and let us keep The silences together ; on thy breast This weary heart would rest. The world's corroding cares forgetting quite. Thy balmy breath Shall bathe each sense in slumber — as the dew, Falhng on flowers, Through all the curtained hours, Lends them a fresher hue. And holds them back from death — So thy harmonious di'eams shall rain on me. In floods of melody, Till all the springs of life shall gush anew. Bear me away To that mist-curtained and enchanted land. Where all the isles Are dimpled deep with smiles Of rippling verdure, fanned By spicy gales the day. Where stars illumine the blue concave skies. As love-enkindled eyes The face of beauty, by Jehovah planned. There, in the bowers Thick-lined Avith moss, and twinkling starry blooms,
