THE PARK.
How beautiful! A garden fair is heaven,
Flowers of all hues, and smiling in the sun,
Where all was waste and wilderness before.
Well do ye imitate, ye gods of earth,
The great Creator. Rock, and lake, and glade,
Birds, fishes, and untamed beasts are here.
Your work were all an Eden but for this—
Here is no man unconscious of a pang,
No perfect Sabbath of unbroken rest.
ANTIQUES.
[Written on the occasion of the death, by drowning, of that prince.]
Thou wert forcibly seized by the hoary lord of the river,—
Holding thee, ever he shares with thee his streaming domain.
Calmly sleepest thou near his urn as it silently trickles,
Till thou to action art roused, waked by the swiftrolling flood.
Kindly be to the people, as when thou still wert a mortal.
Perfecting that as a god, which thou didst fail in, as man.
