Forgive the plaintive numbers, Which held my harp so long, And bless the _resignation_ Which crowns my gloomy song. DESCRIPTION OF HEAVEN BY AN INHABITANT OF A DUNGEON. On gloomy themes let others dwell, And sing the miseries of hell; My cheerful muse prefers to paint The future glories of the saint. High on a mount of purest light, To which the clearest noon is night, Whose top no angel wing can soar, Nor keen-eyed seraph glance explore.-- Above the reach of rolling spheres, Which mark our little circling years, In awful grandeur, reigns our God, And rules creation with his rod. Twelve legion angels, throned around, His lofty praise, in thunder sound, And stooping from their jewelled seat, Cast down their honors at his feet. These, ever ready to fulfil The dictates of his sovereign will, Are winged for flight, and, at his voice, To execute his word, rejoice. In dignity above the rest, With diamond mail and flaming crest, The Angel of his presence stands, To execute his high commands. Round, farther than from central light To where the comets end their flight, In ever blooming beauty lies, The glorious Eden of the skies. There swell huge Alps, uncapped with snow; Through fertile realms broad Danubes flow; And cheerful brook meandering twines Around celestial Apennines. There hills of emerald are seen, And damask vales, that smile between, And all the beauties of the sky In elegant assemblage lie. There too the chrystal mirror lake, By zephyrs kissed, in every wake, Presents to pleased angelic eyes Reflected scenes of earth and skies. There, on a towering height, sublime, The Lebanon of heavenly clime, Where pleasure lives, where rapture glows, The cedar spreads its princely boughs. There fragrant Carmel's flowery grove, Where seraphs tune their harps of love, On playful breeze diffuses round, Its spicy breath and tuneful sound. There Sharon's rose, without a thorn, Serenely bright with gems of morn, On verdant tree majestic towers, And smiling reigns, the queen of flowers. Down by a sweetly-flowing rill, Where pure celestial dews distil, The lilies, clothed with beauty, rise, And bloom beneath cerulean skies. There, raining nectar from its boughs, The tree of life immortal grows; And streams of bliss, 'mid holy song, Roll their mellifluent waves along. No winter's frost or winter's snow-- No blight these scenes of beauty know; No change revolving seasons bring, For all is one eternal spring.