MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS.

The heavens display thy glory, Lord of life! And the clear firmament, as with a tongue That ceaseless speaks, proclaims to earth—to man— Thy wondrous power—the everlasting theme From day to day, from night to night renewed. The night is deep, and ocean sleeps in calm; The winds are hushed, and with them hushed awhile The storm in human breasts.—Look on the heavens! Disturbed by fitful clouds, which recent winds Have torn and flung in fleecy whiteness there, I see amid the desert waste of blue, Bright stars, which gleam with interrupted light. Beautiful stars! yet, though careering now Triumphant through illimitable space With lustre unsubdued—ye fail at last!— The time must come, when from your glorious orbs The Eternal shall withdraw the kindling look That feeds your living fires—and all these suns, Extinct at once—shall perish! Thou Boötes, Brightest of all that walk the beamy North! Sunken and pale—thy golden car o’erturned, Shalt set in night! and Sirius, who dost shine In bright Orion’s train!—Ye Pleiades,— Who on your silver path majestic rise, Hymning your chorus to celestial ears, Your melody must cease!—Thou, radiant Ship, Which round and round the firmament, on high Hung like a sea, from immemorial time Hast sailed,—shalt sink, in waves of darkness whelmed. And thou, lone watcher of the ancient Pole,— Who through unnumbered years hast held unmoved Thy seat in Heaven, and marked the birth and death Of kindred worlds—shalt quit thy station too! The seaman’s guide no more! All fade away! And I, who gaze upon your glories now, Desponding and afar, must I too share The darkness of your ruin?—No—these powers Though shrouded, were not given to fail with yours! They live—to vaster and to loftier life For ever swelling—when your orbs shall pass Unheeded to the chaos whence they sprung.