when she speaks of
"Comfort:"--

COMFORT.

"Speak low to me, my Saviour--low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low,
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss thee so
Who art not miss'd by any that entreat.
Speak to me as to Mary at thy feet--
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber, while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection--thus, in sooth
To lose the sense of losing! As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore,
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth;
Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before."

How profound and yet how feminine is the sentiment! No _man_ could have
written that sonnet. It rises spontaneously from the heart of a
Christian woman, which overflows with feelings more gracious and more
graceful than ever man's can be. It teaches us what religious poetry
truly is; for it makes affections inspired by the simplest things of
earth, to illustrate, with the most artless beauty, the solemn
consolations of the Cross.

The pointedness of the following religious sonnet is very striking and
sublime. The text is, "And the Lord turned and _looked_ upon Peter."

THE MEANING OF THE LOOK.

"I think that look of Christ might seem to say--
'Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone
Which I at last must break my heart upon,
For all God's charge, to his high angels, may
Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday
Wash _thy_ feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun,--
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?--
The cock crows coldly.--Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy deathly need is bitterest,
Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here--
My voice, to God and angels, shall attest,--
_Because I_ KNOW _this man, let him be clear_.'"

One more sonnet, and we bid adieu to these very favourable specimens of
Miss Barrett's genius:--

PATIENCE TAUGHT BY NATURE.

"'O dreary life!' we cry, 'O dreary life!'
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle. Ocean girds
Unslacken'd the dry land: savannah-swards
Unweary