Then praise God for sabbaths, for books, and dreams, and pains, For the recreative face of nature, and the kindling charities of home; And remember, thou that labourest,--thy leisure is not loss, If it help to expose and undermine that solid falsehood, the Material. Life is a strange avenue of various trees and flowers; Lightsome at commencement, but darkening to its end, in a distant massy portal. It beginneth as a little path, edged with the violet and primrose, A little path of lawny grass, and soft to tiny feet: Soon, spring thistles in the way, those early griefs of school, And fruit-trees ranged on either hand show holiday delights: Anon, the rose and the mimosa hint at sensitive affection, And vipers hide among the grass, and briars are woven in the hedges: Shortly, staked along in order, stand the tender saplings, While hollow hemlock and tall ferns fill the frequent interval: So advancing, quaintly mixed, majestic line the way Sturdy oaks, and vigorous elms, the beech and forest-pine: And here the road is rough with rocks, wide, and scant of herbage, The sun is hot in heaven, and the ground is cleft and parched: And many-times a hollow trunk, decayed, or lightning-scathed, Or in its deadly solitude, the melancholy upas: But soon, with closer ranks, are set the sentinel trees, And darker shadows hover amongst Autumn's mellow tints; Ever and anon, a holly,--junipers, and cypresses, and yews; The soil is damp; the air is chill; night cometh on apace: Speed to the portal, traveller,--lo, there is a moon, With smiling light to guide thee safely through the dreadful shade: Hark,--that hollow knock,--behold, the warder openeth, The gate is gaping, and for thee;--those are the jaws of Death! [Illustration] OF DEATH. [Illustration: "K"] Keep silence, daughter of frivolity,--for Death is in that chamber! Startle not with echoing sound the strangely solemn peace. Death is here in spirit, watcher of a marble corpse,-- That eye is fixed, that heart is still,--how dreadful in its stillness! Death, new tenant of the house, pervadeth all the fabric; He waiteth at the head, and he standeth at the feet, and hideth in the caverns of the breast: Death, subtle leech, hath anatomized soul from body, Dissecting well in every nerve its spirit from its substance: Death, rigid lord, hath claimed the heriot clay, While joyously the youthful soul hath gone to take his heritage: Death, cold usurer, hath seized his bonded debtor; Death, savage despot, hath caught his forfeit serf; Death, blind foe, wreaketh petty vengeance on the flesh; Death, fell cannibal, gloateth on his victim, And carrieth it with him to the grave, that dismal banquet-hall, Where in foul state the Royal Goul holdeth secret orgies.