1850-60.] BENJAMIN T. GUSHING. 491 as a man of good talents, energy, and perseverance, and his manly aspirations inter- ested many in his success. His character was imbued with the spirit of true religion. To its claims he sacrificed first impulses, if they shrank from a test by its standard. From its sacred oracles he drew the great lesson of our probation. In its precious encouragements, his hope brightened. In its anticipated future, he had a foretaste of his reward. In the study of the perfections and earthly experience of its Author, he prepared for nobler and loftier ascriptions of praise to his divine Redeemer. He hngered but a few weeks at Putnam ; yet his last thoughts were upon his life's great hope ; and the disposal of the unfinished " Christiad " was the burden of his last whisper, as the spirit for a moment lingered, then took its upward flight. May we not justly repeat the sentiment so beautifully addressed by himself to the mother by whose side we laid his remains ? He " has learned the poetry of heaven from the lyres of the archangels ! " LAY OF THE IMPROVISATRICB. " The spell of Death is on me ! " I have heard In dreams the rustling of his shadowy wing Above me like a prophecy ! The bird That wakes his carol in the breath of Spring, Knows not more surely that his joy is nigh Than my sick spirit that I soon must die ! My eye is bright, they tell me, and my cheek Wears still the rosy color that it wore "When life's full tide glowed through each pulse, to speak In eye and cheek as they shall speak no more; It is a feverish brightness — day by day The inward fire consumes my strength away! Time was when I had sighed to leave the earth. With all its beautiful and glorious things ; Its babbling streams, its music and its mirth, Its pastures green, and birds with rain- bow wings ; Hope was beside me then, and from her eyes, My spirit borrowed all their iris dyes ! I walked upon the mountain like a nymph, Drinking the breeze and nourishing the flowers With dews as lucent as the crystal lymph; With joy I trod the shadowy noontide bowers ; Bright smiled young Evening through her twilight bars. And I beheld glad spirits in the stars. That held communion with me — and my soul Had its deep thoughts and dreams un- utterable In common language — and I dared the goal Of poesy — filled the bright goblet full Of the delirious wine, and deeply quaffed The inspiration of the glorious draught !
