When  we  were  grown  to  riper  years,
Woo'd  by  a  world  of  hopes  and  fears,
Each  morn  and  evening  it  would  come,
And  lighting  up  the  silent  room
Would  oft  forgotten  still  intrude
On  evening's  holier  solitude,
A  gentle  witness  standing  nigh
Of  things  that  should  not  be  put  by.
More  and  more  to  our  manlier  sense
Faith's  treasur'd  stores  it  doth  dispense,
A  key  that  opes  omnipotence :
It  can  the  mountains  set  afar,
Which  our  obedience  seem  to  bar.
But  if  not  made  in  love  our  own
It  is  a  witness  of  stern  tone  ;
Or  seems  with  parting  wings  to  go.
And  leave  us  to  the  world  below.
When  age  hath  come,  ere  we  depart.
That  witness  takes  the  Judge's  part,—
The  Judge's  part,  which  serves  to  prove
Thoughts  chain'd  below,  or  train'd  above.
Of  character  the  form  and  measure,
Of  our  desires,  our  hope,  and  ti'easure  :
Whether  in  converse  with  the  sky
We  strength  have  gain'd  to  walk  on  high ;
With  thoughts  to  our  true  Father  led,
Content  below  with  daily  bread  :
Or  whether  in  low  dieams  of  earth
Forgotten  lies  our  better  birth.
THK    NORTH   AISLE.  109


XII.
Thro'  life,  as  change  and  chance  succeed,
It  thus  doth  vary  to  our  need,
And  to  the  faith-illumin'd  sense
Expandeth  its  magnificence.
Said  I,  'twas  like  the  silver  Moon,
Companion  thro'  night's  wintry  noon  ?
Yea,  and  I  deem  it  not  too  bold.
Could  I  its  treasures  half  unfold  :
'Tis  fraught  with  goodness  all  Thine  own.
Whilst  Thou,  our  Sun,  from  sight  art  gone.
Lo,  earth-bom  cares  are  at  its  rising  riven.
