I will check this foolish sorrow, For what God doth is best; But oh, ’tis a month to-morrow I buried it from my breast! The following beautiful verses, of very high order of poetical merit, have not previously been published:— A THOUGHT. [30th Aug. 1866. Suggested by Gen. xviii. 1-3.] A fair and stately scene of roof and walls Touched by the ruddy sunsets of the West, Where, meek and molten, eve’s soft radiance falls Like golden feathers in the ringdove’s nest. Yonder the bounding sea, that couch of God! A wavy wilderness of sand between; Such pavement, in the Syrian deserts, trod Bright forms, in girded albs, of heavenly mien. Such saw the patriarch in his noonday tent: Three severed shapes that glided in the sun, Till, lo! they cling, and, interfused and blent, A lovely semblance gleams, the three in one! Be such the scenery of this peaceful ground, This leafy tent amid the wilderness; Fair skies above, the breath of angels round, And God the Trinity to beam and bless! This poem was sent to an intimate friend with this letter:— DEAR MRS. M——,—I record the foregoing thought for you, because it literally occurred to me as I looked from the windows of your house, across the sand towards the sea. Forgive the lines for the sake of their sincerity, etc.... He wrote a poem of singular beauty on the auroral display of the night of 10th Nov. 1870, which was privately printed. In it he gave expression to the fancy, not original, but borrowed from Origen, or from North American Indian mythology, that the underworld of spirits is within this globe, and the door is at the North Pole, and the flashing of the lights is caused by the opening of the door to receive the dead. The following passage from his pen refers to the same idea:—