Him from whose rising stream’d that robe of spirit-power.
Glory to Him! Hope to the suffering breast!
Light to the nations! He hath roll’d away
The mists which, gathering into deathlike rest,
Between the soul and heaven’s calm ether lay—
His love hath made it day
With those that sat in darkness. Earth and sea!
Lift up glad strains for man by truth divine made free!
THE CHILD READING THE BIBLE.
“A dancing shape, an image gay,