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The star of the unconquered will,
He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.
And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.
O fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.
When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;
Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light
Dance upon the parlour wall ;
Then the forms of the departed
Come to visit me once more ;
He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
Weary with the march of life !
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more !
And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies
Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died !
SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Stars they are, wherein we read our history,
As astrologers and seers of eld;
Like the burning stars, which they beheld.