Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/159

Hath more to boast, than plants whose greenness fades,
Or riches of the mine. She pointed out,
With ready hand and graceful warmth of heart,
The sweet Moravian poet, he who saw
Through Fancy's glass the"World before the Flood,"
And told its doings to our grosser ear.
He oft hath given Devotion's lip the words
She sought but could not find; and sure, high praise
Is due to him, who steadily devotes
His heaven-given talents to their highest end,
And ne'er disjoins them from the Maker's praise.
Such meed is thine, Montgomery, meek in heart,
And full of Christian love.
                                    We said farewell
Reluctantly to those, who like tried friends,
Though newly seen, had marked each fleeting hour
With deeds of kindness, and as through the scenes
Of glorious beauty, hill and dale and tower,
Swept on our light post-chaise, of them we spake
Such words as glowing gratitude inspires.

There stood a cottage, near a spreading moor,
Just where its heathery blackness melted down
Into a mellower hue. Fast by its side
Nestled the wheat-stock, firmly bound and shaped
Even like another roof-tree, witnessing
Fair harvest and good husbandry. Some sheep
Roamed eastwards o'er the common, nibbling close
The scanty blade, while toward the setting sun