Felicia Hemans

“ Hath lone devotion found a place of prayer,
A native temple, solemn, hushed, and dim;
For wheresoe'er your murmuring tremors thrill
The woody twilight, there man's heart hath still
Confessed a spirit's breath, and heard a ceaseless hymn. ”

“ And the loved flowers which round thee smile farewell
Of more than vernal glory seem to tell,
By thy pure spirit touched with light divine;
While we, to whom its parting gleams are given,
Forget the grave in trustful thoughts of Heaven. ”

“ Of clouds that mantle thy decline, our gaze
Tracks thee with love half fearful: and in days
When Earth too much adored thee, what a swell
Of mournful passion, deepening mighty lays,
Told how the dying bade thy light farewell ”

“ Attraction of the East.
What secret current of man's nature turns
Unto the golden East, with ceaseless flow?
Still, where the sunbeam at its fountain burns,
The pilgrim-spirit would adore and glow. ”

“ Slept on the waters, and their hollow swell
And dying cadence lent a deeper spell
Unto thine ocean-pictures. 'Midst thy palms,
And strange bright birds, my fancy joyed to dwell,
And watch the Southern Cross through midnight calms,
And track the spicy woods. ”

“ Oft 'midst your boughs forgotten, buried deep,
Till gazing through them up the summer skies,
As hushed we stand, a breeze perchance may creep,
And old sweet leaf-sounds reach the inner world
Where memory coils; and lo! ”