| And light green leaves: the lilac too was there, |
| The prodigal laburnum, dropping gold, |
| While the rich gorse along the turf crept near, |
| Close to the fountain's margin, and made bold |
| To peep into that pool, so calm and clear:— |
| As if well pleased to see their image bright |
| Reflected back upon their innocent sight; |
| Each flower and blossom shy |
| Lingering the live-long day in still delight, |
| Yet without touch of pride, to view, |
| Yea, with a tender, holy sympathy, |
| What was itself, yet was another too. {318} |
| So on thy verse, my Brother and my Friend, |
| —The fresh upwelling of thy tranquil spirit,— |
| I see a many angel forms attend; |
| And gracious souls elect, |
| And thronging sacred shades, that shall inherit |
| One day the azure skies, |
| And peaceful saints, in whitest garments deck'd; |
| And happy infants of the second birth:— |
| These, and all other plants of paradise, |
| Thoughts from above, and visions that are sure, |
| And providences past, and memories dear, |
| In much content hang o'er that mirror pure, |
| And recognize each other's faces there, |
| And see a heaven on earth. |
The Oratory.
January 1, 1858. |