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G. LONGMORE.
211
Shines not its vestal moon with purer light?
Hath not its galaxy more lustrous hue,
While star-clouds, set in heavens more deeply blue,
Still gladden ours, as erst Magellan's sight?
O would that while the old grey mountains sleep
There might be silence in the which to find
Grand music! But if joyous creatures keep
Perpetual chorus, shall my captious mind
Object? Creation's harmonies lie deep,
But to the soul attuned the parts are well combined.
G. Longmore.
