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Out from the deep, deep caverns of the sea,
The evening bells are ringing faint and low; List to the tidings that they bring to thee
From the old Wonder-City far below.
While 'neath the bosom of the quiet stream
The circling floods those ancient ruins lave, Their towers send out a passing golden gleam
Through the smooth surface of the upper wave.
To glittering waters with enchantments bright,
Once seen beneath the glow of evening skies, The sailor oft returns with eager sight,
Though near his bark the threatening cliffs arise.
Thus from the heart's deep well is music ringing,
The evening bells are chiming faint and low; Sweet memories, alas! the charm is bringing
Of the true love it lived with, long ago!
How fair a world lies here beneath the stream!
Of many hopes its ruins are the grave; But in the mirror of my happy dream,
Light, as of starry skies, adorns the wave.
Fain am I, then, to dive beneath the glow,
Sink where the waters ever sparkling roll;
From the German of UALAND.
MUSIC I' THE AIR.
O listen to the howling sea,
O listen well and listen long !
GEORGE W. CURTIS.
The winter eve, how soft, how mild !
How calm the earth! how calm the sea ! The earth is like a weary child,
And ocean sings its lullaby.
A little ripple in my ear!
A little motion at my feet! They only make the quiet here, Which they disturb not, more complete.
I wander on the sands apart,
I watch the sun, world-wearied, sink Into his grave; — with tranquil heart Upon the loved and lost I think.
R. C. TRENCH.
O UNSEEN Spirit! now a calm divine
Comes forth from Thee, rejoicing earth and air ! Trees, hills, and houses, all distinctly shine,
And thy great ocean slumbers every where.
The chime of bells remote, the murmuring sea,
The song of birds in whispering copse and wood, The distant voice of children's thoughtless glee,
And maiden's song, are all one voice of good.
Amid the leaves' green mass a sunny play
Of flash and shadow, stirs like inward life ; The ship’s white sail glides onward far away,
Unhaunted by a dream of storm or strife.
O Thou! the primal fount of life and peace,
Who shed'st thy breathing quiet all around, In me command that pain and conflict cease,
And turn to music every jarring sound.
How longs each pulse within the weary soul
To taste the life of this benignant hour, To be at one with thine untroubled Whole,
And in itself to know thy hushing power.
Prepare, O Truth Supreme! through shame and pain
A heart attuned to thy celestial calm; Let not reflection's pangs be roused in vain,
But heal the wounded breast with soothing balm.
So, firm in steadfast hope, in thought secure,
In full accord to all thy world of joy, May I be nerved to labors high and pure,
And Thou thy child to do thy work employ.
In One, who walk'd on earth a man of wo,
Was holier peace than e'en this hour inspires ; From Him to me let inward quiet flow,
And give the might my failing will requires.
So this great All around, so He, and Thou,
The central source and awful bound of things,