University of Virginia Library

Sweet leaf—thou art a fine and fairy page,
Inscribed with lovely lessons deep and sage—
A delicate yet mighty page thou art—
And thy pure lessons sink into the heart;
'Tis to the heart thou mak'st thy soft appeal,
And Oh! the truths divine thou dost reveal!
Thou, stirred and shaken by each breeze and breath
That trembles o'er thy shining parent wreath!
That thou should'st such deep truths unfold in power,
Thou sentient of each blight, each cloud, each shower—
That thou should'st hoard such knowledge, little leaf,
And breathe such mysteries—voiceless, still, and chief,
That thou should'st teach the restless mind to rest,
And consolations full of strength suggest,
And bid it from its gloomy musings rise,
And light it to divine discoveries!
And tenderly reveal and sweetly prove
How chastisements are sent in Heavenly love.
Thou when uncrushed dost little fragrance shed,
But Oh! when bruised—how thy rich breathings spread
Their exquisite delights refined and rare,
Upon the enamoured and enchanted air.
Scarce scented when uncrushed! but Oh! when pressed,
No perfumes of that fabled Phœnix' nest,
Which sinks midst odorous flames and balmy light
With more delicious zest the sense could smite!
Ye and the Phœnix, in expiring give
The precious wealth ye hoard while yet ye live.
Sweet leaf! when harshly rough rude hands assail,
What incense-breathings dost thou not exhale!
What oderiferous treasure in thee lies—
How redolent thy rich and fragrant sighs—
What wealth ambrosial hast thou not amassed,
Full long secreted and imprisoned fast—
Thus—thus our hearts in stern affliction's hour
Give out unto that grasp of iron power
Deep treasures, undisplayed—unknown before,
Long nursed and hidden in their inmost core.
Thus our own Minds, by dark misfortune ground,
And crushed and aching with the recent wound,
And wrung and sorely injured and oppressed,
Glow with Golcondas we had never guessed!
Mines of pure wealth unopened to the day—
Then sparkle forth, their barriers reft away.
Yes! 'tis the mighty power of strong distress
That makes us know what riches we possess.
Curse not the active miner, Sorrow—No!
Deep benefits from her stern service flow!
'Tis hers within the pierced and stricken Mind
Veins of inestimable price to find!—
And these to open out and to display—
Spread to the Sun—and dragged into the day!

Fair leaf of Myrtle—pure and perfect page—
Wherein we read great Nature's lessons sage—
Sweet is the comfort that 'tis thine to impart
Unto this suffering Mind—this stricken heart!
So shall they yield, if Heaven allow and aid,
Beneath the pressure and the burden laid,
Virtue's own living incense—that before
Seemed hid and choaked within their depth and core,
Taught by Adversity to ache and bleed,
So be their buried stores of sweetness freed!—
So may they tenderly, thus tried exhale
Breathings most precious on Life's stormy gale.

Fair leaf of Myrtle, thou art written o'er
With touching truths and love-awakening lore,
Where'er deep Nature's Manuscripts we find,
There we glean hints that light and lift the Mind!
And where, Oh! where is there on Earth that spot
Where the observant eye shall mark them not?
On the rude rock that spurns back Ocean's rage,
As on this delicate and verdant page,
Her wond'rous charactery we recognize—
And meekly trace, if we indeed are wise!—
The block of Granite and the blade of grass,
The dewdrop's diamond and the mountain's mass,
The film of cobweb and the fleece of cloud,
All, all urge things 'twere well that all avowed—
The sweet breath of the South—the Sun's bright beam,
The hurry of the tempest's phrenzy-dream,
The flake of snow—the quivering spark of fire,
The spar's lit surface and the shell's wreathed spire,
The globe of dazzling disk, the grain of dust,
All tell of truths 'twere madness to mistrust!
All to the meek and watchful mind convey
Deep lessons, meet to guide it on its way;
All can some wealth of Wisdom's truth confer—
Impart some knowledge—free from blot or slur.
On the pure pages of Great Nature's book
Angels may fix undimmed their Sun-bright look,
Nor evil there nor error may appear—
But All of Nature's truth to Heaven is dear.