410 AMANDA L. R. DUFOUR. [1840-50. Of its dark waters ; not a tiny bark Had swept the surface of its sunless waves Love had not entered there. Not one fair flower Bloomed on its desert banks ; no verdant spot Or sweet oasis, with its fount and bird, Cool shade or lofty palm, relieved the gloom. And thus it rose apart, an empty shrine In a deserted isle, the naked rock And stunted undergrowth, with leafless limb, Its sole surroundings. Ah ! the magic change Since thy transcendent soul, in close em- brace Hath clasped my soul. Life, love, and beauty clothe The rugged forms ; thou hast imparted warmth And healthful vigor to an arid soil. Blossoms of fragrance now are springing forth. And rarest fruits of tropic climates glow, And ripen, underneath thy culture there. A silver lake, translucent to its depths, Sleeps in calm beauty by the hallowed shrine Of glorious inspiration — haunted shrine. Haunted by forms of splendor, where the torch Of true affection burns, as shines the sun From heaven's purest depths, some sum- mer morn. Upon a world waking to life and light And new-born happiness. Beloved one ! Thou art the treasury wherein is stored More wealth than would endow a thou- sand worlds ; And I love thee with that impassioned trust That angel bears to angel. For thy spirit Has led my erring soul to God. Through thee I worship and adore the Infinite. His glorious attributes before me rise. Reflected back in thine. Thy lofty mind And master-soul bear witness to the power And mighty skill of the Creating Hand, Moulding its proudest work. I love my God The more, because when he created man After his ima^e — he embodied thee ! TRIBUTE TO HUMBOLDT.* Aye ! thou art King, by noblest manhood crowned, King of the realm of deep and searching thought ; Thy name will live, great Humboldt, world- renowned, Immortal as the soul its fame that wrought. Thy master-mind has grasped the infinite, Has fathomed all earth's mysteries, has walked Volcanic aisles of strange and lurid light. Whose air mephitic human life had mocked ; There hast thou searched, and fearless trod and talked.
Thou hast no country ; for all nations claim Thee for their own ; and all have crowned thee King Of the vast realm of knowledge ; and thy name All future times shall honor, praise and sing. Thy age should not be counted here by years. For thou hast lived long centuries in thought; Golden and ripe thy mighty spirit nears At last the source from which its strength was caught, The throne on high, at wiiose behest it wrought. Written a short tiuio before the death of the Tencra- ble philosopher (May sixth, 1859) to whom it is addressed, and WHS suggested by a toast offered by a Bostoniau a-t a banquet given by .loseph A. Wright, the .uierio,iu Minis- ter at Berlin, in these words : " Baron von Iluniboldt, the Iing of Science, the latchel of whose shoe other kings arc not worthy to unloose."
