264

SELECT POETRY

Sun, and moon, and stars shine o’er thee,
See thy surface ebb and flow;

Yet attempt not to explore thee
In thy soundless! depths below.

Whether morning’s splendours steep thee
With the rainbow’s glowing grace,

Tempests rouse, or navies sweep thee,
’Tis but for a moment’s space.

Earth—her valleys and her mountains,
Mortal man’s behests obey ;

The unfathomable fountains
Scoff his search, and scorn his sway.

Such art thou—stupendous ocean !
But, if overwhelmed by thee,
Can we think, without emotion,
What must thy Creator be ?
Bernard Barton.

 

BIRDS.

Say, who the various nations can declare

That plough with busy wing the peopled air ?
These cleave the crumbling bark for insect food ;
Those dip their crooked beak in kindred blood ;
Some haunt the rushy moor, the lonely woods ;
Some bathe their silver plumage in the floods ;
Some fly to man, his household gods implore,
And gather round his hospitable door ;

Wait the known call, and find protection there
From all the lesser tyrants of the air.

1 Soundlesse-that cannot be fathomed or measured.