SONNETS.

THE sea is purpled by the dying sun,

The restless waves are tinged with Tyrian hue,

And purple clouds are hung upon the blue

Of heaven, until the heaven and sea are one.

Where ends the sea? Where is the sky begun?

I, floating in an Indian canoe,

With all these glories round me, with the view

Expanding, as the waves I ride upon

Lift up their haughty heads, - could I not sail

Until I reached the line where sea and sky

Are blended into one infinity?

Could I not float out on the sea of space,

And learn new wonders from behind the veil

Which hides from us God's everlasting face?

II. DEMUTH.The day fades, and the solemn mystic night

Broods with her thousand stars upon the ocean.

The winds are hushed, calmed is the waves' commotion;

The crescent moon pours out her jar of light

Upon the waters. Clouds as silvery white

As angels' wings float with the softest motion

Across the sky, and pay their deep devotion

Unto their queen enthroned on heaven's height.

O sea, thou emblem of almighty power!

O night, thou majesty of majesties!

My soul is humbled at this solemn hour,

Surrounded by thine awful mysteries,

My fruitless yearning slowly died away,

As dim night took her sceptre from the day.

N. H. D.