Richard Henry Dana, Sr.

“ And altered to the Living Mind
(That great high-priestess, with her thought-born race
Who round thine altar aye have stood and shine)
The comforts of thy face.
Why shadowed thus thy forehead fair?
Why on the mind low hangs a mystic gloom,
And spreads away on the genial air,
Like vapours from the tomb?
Why should ye shine, you lights above?
Ye little flowers, why open to the heat?
No more within the heart ye filled with love
The living pulses bat. ”

“ To shed a softneess through my ripening powers,
And lead the thoughtful mind to deepest truth.
II.
And now, when weariness and pain
Had cast you almost from my breast,
With each a smiling face,
In all your simple grace,
You come once more ot take me back again
From pain to ease, from weariness to rest.
III.
Kind visitants, through my sick room
You seem to breathe an air of health,
And with your looks of joy
To wake again the boy,
And to the pallid cheek restore its bloom,
And o'er the desert mind pour bounteous wealth. ”