Poems (Truesdell)/Lines on receiving a Number of the Repository
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LINES
ON RECEIvinG A nUMBER OT THE rEPOSITORy.
Thou com'st to me, bright messenger,
With many garlands, wrought
Of all the fairest, purest things,
Of intellect and thought.
With many garlands, wrought
Of all the fairest, purest things,
Of intellect and thought.
Within thy modest pages,
Thou truly dost inclose
The lily's sweet humility,
With the beauty of the rose.
Thou truly dost inclose
The lily's sweet humility,
With the beauty of the rose.
Thy prose is high and holy;
To thy verse it doth belong,
In sweet and solemn cadence,
To bear the soul in song.
To thy verse it doth belong,
In sweet and solemn cadence,
To bear the soul in song.
Thine is a noble office,—
To elevate the mind,
And lift the drooping spirit,
From the dross of earth refined.
To elevate the mind,
And lift the drooping spirit,
From the dross of earth refined.
Then welcome! ever welcome
To my heart and to my home,
With such a gentle monitor
I surely can not roam
To my heart and to my home,
With such a gentle monitor
I surely can not roam
From the paths of truth and virtue,
Which thou dost sweetly blend;
Then come, and I will hail thee
As an old familiar friend.
Which thou dost sweetly blend;
Then come, and I will hail thee
As an old familiar friend.
And when my mind is sorrowful,
With bitter thoughts oppressed,
I'll turn thy pages o'er , and read
The "Gatherings of the West."
With bitter thoughts oppressed,
I'll turn thy pages o'er , and read
The "Gatherings of the West."