A voice had spoken out of solitude.
-Yea, such an eye beheld him, such a voice
Had spoken; but they were not mine; his life
He would have yielded on the spot, to see

That eye,
to hear that voice, and understand it;
It was the eye of God, the voice of Nature.
All in a moment on his knees he fell,

And with imploring arms, outstretch'd to heaven,
And eyes no longer wet with hopeless tears,

But beaming forth sublime intelligence;

In words through which his heart's pulsation throbb'd, And made mine tremble to their accents,-pray'd: -Oh! if there be a Power above all power,

A Light above all light, a Name above

All other names, in heaven and earth; that Power,
That Light, that Name I call upon.'-He paused,
Bow'd his hoar head with reverence, closed his eyes,
And with clasp'd hands upon his breast, began
In under-tones, that rose in fervency,

Like incense kindled on a holy altar,

Till his whole soul became one tongue of fire,
Of which these words were faint and poor expressions:
-Oh! if Thou art, Thou knowest that I am :
Behold me, hear me, pity me, despise not

The prayer, which-if Thou art-Thou hast inspired.
Or wherefore seek I now a God unknown?

And feel for Thee, if haply I may find

In whom I live, and move, and have my being?
Reveal Thyself to me, reveal thy power,
Thy light, thy name,--that I may fear, adore,
Obey, and oh! that I might love Thee too!
For, if Thou art-it must be-Thou art good;
And I would be the creature of thy goodness:
Ob! hear and answer;-let me know Thou hearest;
-Know that as surely as Thou art, so surely
My prayer and supplication are accepted.'

He waited silently; there came no answer;
The roaring of the tide beneath, the gale
Rustling the forest-leaves, the notes of birds,

And hum of insects,-these were all the sounds,
That met familiarly around his ear.

He look'd abroad; there shone no light from heaven
But that of sunset; and no shapes appear'd

But glistering clouds, which melted through the sky
As imperceptibly as they had come.

While all terrestrial objects seem'd the same
As he had ever known them ;-still he look'd
And listen'd, till a cold sick feeling sunk
Into his heart and blighted every hope.

Anon faint accents, from the sloping lawn Beneath the crag where he was kneeling, rose, Like supernatural echoes of his prayer:

A Name above all names,-I call upon.Thou art-Thou knowest that I am :-Reveal Thyself to me ;-but oh! that I may love Thee' For if thou art, thou must be good:-Oh! hear, And let me know thou hearest !'-Memory fail'd The child; for 'twas his grandchild, though he knew

not,

-In the deep transport of his mind, he knew not
That voice, to him the sweetest of ten thousand,
And known the best, because the best beloved.
Again it cried: "Thou art, thou must be good: Oh!
hear,

And let me know thou bearest.'-Memory fail'd
The child, but feeling fail'd not; tears of light
Slid down his cheek; he too was on his knees,
Clasping his little hands upon his heart,
Unconscious why, yet doing what he saw
His grandsire do, and saying what he said.
For while he gather'd buds and flowers, to twine

A garland for the old gray hairs, whose locks
Were lovelier in his sight, than all the blooms
On which the bees and butterflies were feasting,
The Patriarch's agony of spirit caught

His eye, his ear, his heart; he dropt the flowers,
And kueeling down among them, wept and pray'd
Like him, with whom he felt such strange emotions
As rapt his infant-soul to heavenly heights;

Though whence they sprang, and what they meant, he knew not.

But they were good, and that was all to him,
Who wonder'd why it was so sweet to weep:
Nor would he quit his humble attitude,

Nor cease repeating fragments of that lesson,
Thus learnt spontaneously from lips, whose words
Were almost dearer to him than their kisses,
When on his lap the old man dandled him,
And told him simple stories of his mother.

Recovering thought, the venerable sire
Beheld, and recognized his darling boy,
Thus beautiful and innocent, engaged

In the same worship with himself. His heart
Leap'd at the sight, he flung away despondence,
While joy unspeakable and full of glory

Broke through the pagan darkness of his soul.
and snatch'd the infant in his arms,
Embraced him passionately, wept aloud,

He ran,

And cried, scarce knowing what he said, My Son! My Son! there is a God! there is a God!'

And oh! that I may love Thee too!' rejoin'd
The child, whose tongue could find no other words
Than prayer;- For if Thou art, Thou must be good.'
He is! He is! and we will love Him too;

Yea and be like Him,-good, for he is good!'
Replied the ancient father in amazement.

Then wept they o'er each other, till the child
Exceeded, and the old man's heart reproved him
For lack of reverence in the excess of joy :
The ground itself seem'd holy; heaven and earth
Full of the presence, felt not seen, of Him,
The Power above all power, the Light above
All light, the Name above all other names,
Whom he had call'd upon, whom he had found,
Yet worshipp'd only as, The Unknown God,'-
That nearest step which uninstructed man

Can take, from Nature up to Deity.

To Him again, standing erect, he pray'd;
And while he pray'd, high in his arms he held
That dearest treasure of his heart, the child
Of his last dying daughter,-now the sole
Hope of his life, and orphan of his house.
He held him as an offering up to heaven,
A living sacrifice unto the God

Whom he invoked: Oh! Thou who art!' he cried,
And hast reveal'd that mystery to me,
Hid from all generations of my fathers,
Or, if once known, forgotten and perverted;
I may not live to learn Thee better here;
But oh! let this my son, mine only son,
Whom thus I dedicate to Thee ;-let him,
Let him be taught thy will, and choose
Obedience to it; may he fear thy power,
Walk in thy light, now dawning out of darkness;
And oh my last, last prayer,-to him reveal
The unutterable secret of thy name!'

He paused; then with the transport of a seer

Went on That name may all my nation know;
And all that hear it worship at the sound,

When Thou shalt with a voice from Heaven proclaim it; And so it surely shall be.'

For Thou art;

And if Thou art, Thou must be good!' exclaim'd
The child, yet panting with the breath of prayer.
They ceased; then went rejoicing down the mountains,,
Through the cool glen, where not a sound was heard,
Amidst the dark solemnity of eve,

But the loud purling of the little brook,

And the low murmur of the distant ocean.

Thence, to their home beyond the hills, in peace They walk'd; and when they reach'd their humble threshold,

The glittering firmament was full of stars.

-He died that night; his grandchild lived to see
The Patriarch's prayer and prophecy fulfill'd.

THE STRANGER'S TIDINGS.

[MARY HOWITг]

I.

'I DEEMED it he-for each word thou hast spoken
His image to my drooping fancy gave;
But now I know it by this precious token,-
This Holy Book, which I at parting gave;
And he hath kept his plighted word unbroken,
Thinking upon the boon that I did crave,
Whilst in the joyless wilderness he lay.-
My son, my son, how hast thou passed away!

II.

Did I not say, in my unrighteous pride,
Girt by my sons I was a goodly tree,
Spreading its roots and vigorous branches wide?
Alas! I knew not how I stripped should be!