POETRY.
LIFT THINE EYES.
0 Taousr.,ED Soul of mine ! lift up thine eyes Unto the mountains mighty and serene.
Full strangely chequered hath their fortune been ; And they have suffered veriest agonies.
And ofttimes still the tyrant tempest lies Heavy upon them ; with the thunder they Do wrestle. Yet of fear and of dismay Nothing they know, still rising to the skies.
With many a thousand battles are they scarred ; The floods have broken on each helmless head ; Yet for all this, their beauty is not marred, Nor in their hearts are they discomfited.
Still they endure, whatever whirlwinds roll Around,—still glorious they endure, my soul !
Hindscarth Cam, August 30th. Jost, W . Hers.