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With pasture slopes, and flocks just visible; Then, further still, soft wavy wastes of forest, In all the varied tints of sylvan verdure, Descending to the plain; then, wide and boundless, The plain itself, with towns and cultured tracts, And its fair river gleaming in the light, With all its sweepy windings, seen and lost, And seen again, till through the pale grey tint Of distant space, it seem'd a loosen'd cestus From virgin's tunic blown; and still beyond, The earth's extended vastness from the sight Wore like the boundless ocean. My heart beat rapidly at the fair sight— This ample earth, man's natural habitation. But now, when to my mental eye reveal'd, His moral destiny, so grand and noble, Lies stretching on even to immensity, It overwhelms me with a flood of thoughts, Of happy thoughts.

Thanks be to God that thou dost feel it so!

I am most thankful for the words of power Which from thy gifted lips and sacred scripture I have received. What feelings they have raised! O what a range of thought given to the mind! And to the soul what loftiness of hope! That future dreamy state of faint existence Which poets have described and sages taught,