IV.
Adown the steep cliff's face I saw unurn
Its waters full, a crystal brook to-day;
The silvery bubbles coursed each scar by turn,
Safe as on a full-fed meadow stream in May.
I thought of that sweet Scripture Satan used
To tempt the Christ, and knew it true they bear
In woven hands our souls, else deadly bruised,
By hell thrust down some precipice's stair.
V.
Still at the breeze of day doth nature's God
Forth in earth's paradisal bowers walk,
And of soul-freedom, Love's restoring rod,
And angel guardianship, He deigns to talk.
[BEAUTY.]
I.
"Had I two loaves of bread—ay, ay!
One would I sell and hyacinths buy
To feed my soul."—"Or let me die!"