Classic Poem

My soul, behold the beauty of his home!
The very heavens look down with gracious smiles
Upon its holy rest. How bright a green
Sleeps round the dwelling of two loving hearts!
The air lies hush'd above the peaceful roof,
As if it felt the sanctity within
On glides the river with a tranquil flow,
Delighting in his music, as he bathes
The happy bounds where happiness doth stray
—I see them sitting by each other's side,
In the heart's silent secrecy! I hear
The breath of meditation from their souls
They speak: a soft, subduing tenderness,
Born of devotion, innocence and bliss,
Steals from their bosoms in a silver voice
That makes a pious hymning melody.
They look: a gleam of light as sadly sweet
As if they listen'd to some mournful tale,
Swims in their eyes that almost melt to tears.
They smile: oh! never did such languor steal
From lustre of two early-risen stars
When all the silent heavens appear their own.
And lo! an infant shews his gladsome face!
His beautiful and shining golden head
Lies on his mother's bosom, like a rose
Fallen on a lilied bank. A dewy light
Meets the soft smiling of his upward eye,
As in the playful restlessness of joy
He clings around her neck, and fondly strives
To reach the kisses mantling from her soul
—And now, the baby in his cradle sleeps,
Hush'd by his mother's prayer! How soft her tread
Falls, like a snow-flake, on the noiseless floor!
She almost fears to breathe too fond a sigh
Towards the father of her darling child
—Sleep broods o'er all the house: the mother's heart,
Beating within her husband's folding arms,
Dreams of sweet looks of waking happiness,
Unceasing greetings of congenial thought,
Deep blendings of existence; till awoke
By the long stirring of delightful dreams,
She with a silent prayer of thankfulness
Leans gently-breathing on the breast of love!

Can guilt or misery ever enter here?
Ah! no; the spirit of domestic peace,
Though calm and gentle as the brooding dove,
And ever murmuring forth a quiet song,
Guards, powerful as the sword of cherubim,
The hallow'd porch. She hath a heavenly smile
That sinks into the sullen soul of vice,
And wins him o'er to virtue, so transforms
The purpose of his heart, that sudden shame
Smothers the curses struggling into birth,
And makes him turn an eye of kindliness
Even on the blessings that he came to blast.
It is a lofty thought, O guardian love!
To think that he who lives beneath thine eye
Can never be polluted. Pestilence,
The dire, contagious pestilence of sin
May walk abroad, and lay its victims low;
But they, whose upright spirits worship thee,
Breathe not the tainted air—they live apart
Unharm'd, as Israel's heaven-protected sons,
When the exterminating angel pass'd
With steps of blood o'er Egypt's groaning land
Then ever keep unbroken and unstained
The Sabbath-sanctity of home; the shrine
Where spirit in its rapture worships God
By Heaven beloved for ever are the walls
That duly every morn and evening hear
Our whisper'd hymns! Eternity broods there.
Yea! like a father smiling on a band
Of happy children, the Almighty One
Dwells in the midst of us, appearing oft
In visible glory, while our filial souls,
Made pure beneath the watching of his eye,
Walk stately in the conscious praise of Heaven!