Shadows o'er the infant mind,
Floating dimly undefin'd
Like a picture scarce design'd.
Melody but half express'd,
Inarticulate at best,
Haunting ever that young breast.
But the magic word is spoken,
And the shades of night are broken,
And by that same lustrous token.
"GOD THE MIGHTY ONE," now near,
Memnon music on the ear
Falls articulate and clear.
And the day of life begun
By the newly risen sun,
In that light its paths are run.
Even so, when GOD reveal'd
To the eye by Death unseal'd,
Shall completed being yield,
Will the shadows which now lie,
As dim portents to the eye,
From the spirit's vision fly.
And the mystic sounds and sweet,
Which the untaught ear oft greet,
Shall a lucid tale repeat.
And mysterious spirit-life—
Past its agony and strife—
Be with seven-fold Glory rife.
1848.