Welling beside thy throne; unseal mine ear,
Nature’s true oracles in joy to hear;
Keep my soul wakeful still to listen and to learn.
MEMORIAL OF A CONVERSATION.
Yes! all things tell us of a birthright lost—
A brightness from our nature pass’d away!
Wanderers we seem that from an alien coast
Would turn to where their Father’s mansion lay;
And but by some lone flower, that midst decay
Smiles mournfully, or by some sculptured stone,