Be hush’d, my soul! the veil of darkness lay
Still drawn: thy Lord call’d back the voice departed
To spread his truth, to comfort his weak-hearted,
Not to reveal the mysteries of its way.
Oh! take that lesson home in silent faith,
Put on submissive strength to meet, not question, death!
THE OLIVE TREE.
The palm—the vine—the cedar—each hath power
To bid fair Oriental shapes glance by;
And each quick glistening of the laurel bower