13

THE CHANGE.

I LOVE yon pale blue sky; it is the floor

Of that glad home where I shall shortly be A home from which I shall go out no more, From toil and grief and vanity set free.

I

gaze upon yon everlasting arch,

Up which the bright stars wander, as they

shine;

And, as I mark them in their nightly march, I think how soon that journey shall be mine!

Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up

In the still heaven,-through you my path­way lies:

Yon rugged mountain- peak,-how soon your

top

Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise!

Not many more of life's slow- pacing hours, Shaded with sorrow's melancholy hue; Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours, Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue! A journey like Elijah's, swift and bright,

Caught gently upward to an early crown, In heaven's own chariot of all- blazing light,* With death untasted and the grave unknown

*

θείῳ πυρὶ παμφαὴ;.— Soph. Philoct.