How, on the faltering footsteps of decay,
Youth presses-ever gay and beautiful youth
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors
Moulder beneath them. O, there is not lost
One of earth's charms: upon her bosom yet,
After the flight of untold centuries,
The freshness of her far beginning lies,
And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate
Of his arch enemy Death-yea, seats himself
Upon the sepulchre, and blooms and smiles,
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe
Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end.

There have been holy men, who hid themselves Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave

Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived
The generation born with them, nor seemed
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks

Around them;-and there have been holy men,
Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus.
But let me often to these solitudes
Retire, and, in thy presence, reassure
My feeble virtue. Here its enemies,
The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink,
And tremble, and are still. O God! when thou
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire
The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill,
With all the waters of the firmament,
The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods,
And drowns the villages; when, at thy call,
Uprises the great Deep, and throws himself
Upon the continent, and overwhelms

Its cities;-who forgets not, at the sight
Of these tremendous tokens of thy power,
His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by?
Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face,
Spare me and mine; nor let us need the wrath
Of the mad, unchained elements to teach
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate,
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty,
And, to the beautiful order of thy works,
Learn to conform the order of our lives.

Scene from Hadad.-HILLHOUSE.

An apartment in ABSALOM's house. NATHAN and TAMAR.

Nathan. THOU'RT left to-day, (would thou wert ever left Of some that haunt thee!) therefore am I come

To give thee counsel.-Child of sainted Miriam,
Fear not to look upon me; thou wilt hear
The gentle voice of love, not stern monition.
Commune with me as with a tender parent,
Who cares for all thy wishes, hopes, and fears,
Though prizing thy immortal gem above

The transitory.

Tamar. Have I not thus, ever?

Nath. But I would probe the tenderest of thy heart, Touch its disease, and give it strength again,

And yet inflict no pain.

Tam. What means my lord?

Nath. I know thee pure, and guileless as the dove;
The easier prey; and thou art fair, to tempt
The spoiler-ray, be not alarmed, but speak
Openly to me. I would ask thee, princess,
If not displeasing, somewhat of the stranger,
The Syrian, who aspires to David's line.
Tam. (averting her eyes.)

If I can answer

Nath. Maiden, need I ask,

I fear I need not,-is he dear to thee?

'Tis well. But tell me, hast thou ever noted,

Amidst his many shining qualities,

Aught strange or singular?-unlike to others?—

That caused thy wonder?-even to thyself,

Moved thee to say, How! Wherefore's this?

Tam. Never.

Nath. Nothing that marked him from the rest of men?—

Hereafter you shall know why thus I question.

Tam. yes, unlike he seems in many things;

In knowledge, eloquence, high thoughts.

Nath. Proud thoughts

Thou mean'st.

Tam. I'm but a young and simple maid; But, father, he, of all my ears have judged, Is master of the loftiest, richest mind.

Nath. How have I wronged him! deeming him more apt For intricate designs, and daring deeds,

Than contemplation's solitary flights.

Tam. Seer, his far-soaring thoughts ascend the stars,
Pierce the unseen abyss, pervade, like light,
The universe, and wing the infinite.
Nath. (fixing his eyes upon her.)

What stores of love, and praise, and gratitude,
He thence must bring to Him, whose mighty hand
Fashioned their glories, hung yon golden orbs
Amidst his wondrous firmament; who bids
The day-spring know his place, and sheds from all
Sweet influences; who bars the haughty sea,
Binds fast his dreadful hail, but drops the dew
Nightly upon his people! How his soul,

Returning from its quest through earth and heaven,
Must glow with holy fervor !-Doth it, maiden?
Tam. Ah, father, father! were it so indeed,

I were too happy.

Nath. How!-expound thy words.

Tam. Though he has trod the confines of the world, Knows all its wonders, and almost has pierced

The secrets of eternity, his heart

Is melancholy, lone, discordant, save

When love attunes it into happiness.

He hath not found, alas! the peace which dwells

But with our fathers' God.

Nath. And canst thou love

One who loves not Jehovah ?

Tam. O, ask not.

Nath. (fervently.)

My child, thou wouldst not wed an infidel?

Tam. (in tears.) O no! O no!

Nath. Why, then, this embassage?

Why doth your sire

Still urge the king? Why hast thou hearkened it?

Tam. There was a time when I had hopes,-when truth Seemed dawning in his mind-and sometimes, still,

Such heavenly glimpses shine, that my fond heart
Refuses to forego the hope, at last,

To number him with Israel.

Nath. Beware!

Or thou'lt delude thy soul to ruin. Say,

Doth he attend our holy ordinances?

Tam. He promises observance.

Nath. Two full years Hath he abode in Jewry.

Tam. Prophet, think

How he was nurtured-in the faith of idols.

That impious worship long since he abjured

By his own native strength; and now he looks

Abroad through nature's works, and yet must rise-
Nath. Speaks he of Moses?

Tam. Familiar as thyself.

Nath. I think thou said'st he had surveyed the world? Tam. From Ethiopia to the farthest East, Cities, and tribes, and nations. He can speak Of hundred-gated Thebes, towered Babylon, And mightier Nineveh, vast Palibothra, Serendib anchored by the gates of morning, Renowned Benares, where the sages teach The mystery of the soul, and that famed seat Where fleets and warriors from Elishah's Isles Besieged the Beauty, where great Memnon fell;Of temples, groves, and superstitious caves Filled with strange symbols of the Deity; Of wondrous mountains, desert-circled seas, Isles of the ocean, lovely Paradises,

Set, like unfading emeralds, in the deep.

Nath.

Tam.

Yet manhood scarce confirms his cheek.
All this

His thirst of knowledge has achieved; the wish

To gather from the wise eternal truth.

Nath. Not found where he has sought it, and has led Thy wandering fancy.

Tam. O, might I relate

But I bethink me, father, of a thing

Like that you asked. Sometimes, when I'm alone,

Just ere his coming, I have heard a sound,

A strange, mysterious, melancholy sound,

Like music in the air. Anon he enters.

Nath. Ha! is this oft?

Tam. 'Tis not unfrequent.
Nath. Only

When thou'rt alone?

Tam. I have not heard it else.

Nath.

Tam.

A sound like what?

Like wild, sad music, father;

More moving than the lute or viol touched

By skilful fingers. Wailing in the air,

It seems around me, and withdraws as when

One looks and lingers for a last adieu.

Nath. Just ere he enters?

Tam. At his step it dies.

Nath. Mark me.-Thou know'st 'tis held by righteous

men,

That Heaven intrusts us all to watching spirits,

Who ward us from the tempter.-This I deem

Some intimation of an unseen danger.

Tam. But whence?

Nath. Time may reveal: meanwhile, I warn thee, Trust not thyself alone with Hadad.

Tam.

Father,—

Nath. I lay not to his charge; I know, in sooth,
Little of him, (though I have supplicated,)
And will not wound thee with a dark suspicion
But shun the peril thou art warned of; shun
What looks like danger, though we haply err:
Be not alone with him, I charge thee.
Tam. Seer,

I will avoid it.

Nath. All is ominous :

The oracles are mute, dreams warn no more,
Urim and Thummim keep their glory hid;
My days are dark, my nights are visionless;
Jehovah hath forsaken, or, in wrath,
Resigned us for a season. Times like these
Are jubilee in hell. Fiends walk the earth,
Misleading princes, tempting poor men's pillows,
Supplying moody hatred with the dagger,
Lust with occasions, treason with excuses,
Lifting man's heart, like the rebellious waves,
Against his Maker. Watch, and pray, and tremble;
So may the Highest overshadow thee!

[Exit Nath.]
Tam. His awful accents freeze my blood.-Alas!
How desolate, how dark my prospect lowers '—
O Hadad, is it thus those sunny days,
Those sweet deceptive hopes, must terminate,
When, mixing in thy gentle looks, I saw

Love blend with reverence, as my lips described
The power, the patience, purity, and faith
Of our Almighty Father? Then, I thought
Thy spirit, softened by its earthly passion,