bush,
When forth came rushing the stag--hush, hush!

THE SECOND

As with baying of hound he came rushing along,
I fired my gun at his hide--bing, bang!

THE THIRD

And when the stag on the ground I saw,
I merrily wound my horn--trara!

Conversing thus did the huntsmen lie,
When lo! the white hart came bounding by;

And before the huntsmen had noted him well,
He was up and away over mountain and dell!--
Hush, hush!--bing, bang!--trara!

* * * * *

THE LOST CHURCH[26] (1812)

When one into the forest goes,
A music sweet the spirit blesses;
But whence it cometh no one knows,
Nor common rumor even guesses.
From the lost Church those strains must swell
That come on all the winds resounding;
The path to it now none can tell,
That path with pilgrims once abounding.

As lately, in the forest, where
No beaten path could be discover'd,
All lost in thought, I wander'd far,
Upward to God my spirit hover'd.
When all was silent round me there,
Then in my ears that music sounded;
The higher, purer, rose my prayer,
The nearer, fuller, it resounded.

Upon my heart such peace there fell,
Those strains with all my thoughts so blended,
That how it was I cannot tell
That I so high that hour ascended.
It seem'd a hundred years and more
That I had been thus lost in dreaming,
When, all earth's vapors op'ning o'er,
A free large place stood, brightly beaming.

The sky it was so blue and bland,
The sun it was so full and glowing,
As rose a minster vast and grand,
The golden light all round it flowing.
The clouds on which it rested seem'd
To bear it up like wings of fire;
Piercing the heavens, so I dream'd,
Sublimely rose its lofty spire.

The bell--what music from it roll'd!
Shook, as it peal'd, the trembling tower;
Rung by no mortal hand, but toll'd
By some unseen, unearthly power.
The selfsame power from Heaven thrill'd
My being to its utmost centre,
As, all with fear and gladness fill'd,
Beneath the lofty dome I enter.

I stood within the solemn pile--
Words cannot tell with what amazement,
As saints and martyrs seem'd to smile
Down on me from each gorgeous casement.
I saw the picture grow alive,
And I beheld a world of glory,
Where sainted men and women strive
And act again their godlike story.