For he whose gaze whole worlds bath bless’d His eye hath even here impress’d, And the light down in beauty dress’d, So that e’en monarchs cannot hope In splendour with the bird to cope.  Meekly enjoy thy happy lot, And so deserve that holy spot!

1815.
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All kinds of men, both small and great,
A fine-spun web delight to create,
And in the middle they take their place,
And wield their scissors with wondrous grace. 
But if a besom should sweep that way: 
“What a most shameful thing,” they say,—­
“They’ve crush’d a mighty palace to-day.”

1815.
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It is good.

In Paradise while moonbeams play’d,

Jehovah found, in slumber deep,
Adam fast sunk; He gently laid

Eve near him,—­she, too, fell asleep. 
There lay they now, on earth’s fair shrine,
God’s two most beauteous thoughts divine.—­
When this He saw, He cried:—­’Tis Good!!! 
And scarce could move from where He stood.

No wonder, that our joy’s complete
While eye and eye responsive meet,
When this blest thought of rapture moves us—­
That we’re with Him who truly loves us,
And if He cries:—­Good, let it be! 
’Tis so for both, it seems to me. 
Thou’rt clasp’d within these arms of mine,
Dearest of all God’s thoughts divine!

1815.
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XI.  Paris name.

BOOK OF THE PARSEES.

The bequest of the ancient Persian faith.

Brethren, what bequest to you should come
From the lowly poor man, going home,
Whom ye younger ones with patience tended,
Whose last days ye honour’d and defended?

When we oft have seen the monarch ride,
Gold upon him, gold on ev’ry side;
Jewels on him, on his courtiers all,
Thickly strewed as hailstones when they fall,

Have ye e’er known envy at the sight? 
And not felt your gaze become more bright,
When the sun was, on the wings of morning,
Darnawend’s unnumber’d peaks adorning,

As he, bow-like, rose?  How each eye dwelt
On the glorious scene!  I felt, I felt,
Thousand times, as life’s days fleeted by,
Borne with him, the coming one, on high.

God upon His throne then to proclaim,
Him, the life-fount’s mighty Lord, to name,
Worthily to prize that glorious sight,
And to wander on beneath His light.

When the fiery orb was all defined,
There I stood, as though in darkness, blind,
Beat my breast, my quicken’d members threw
On the earth, brow-foremost, at the view.

Let this holy, great bequest reward
Brotherly good-will and kind regard: 
Solemn duty’s daily observation.—­
More than this, it needs no revelation.

If its gentle hands a new-born one
Move, then straightway turn it tow’rd the sun,—­
Soul and body dip in bath of fire! 
Then each morning’s favour ’twill acquire.