The North Transept: The Psalms IV

While Hope with Sorrow mingles, as if still
We walk'd in Eden, and felt God was nigh ;
Or 'neath the shade of some o'erhanging hill
An Angel guest attun'd his melody
To better things, which hidden are on high,
Blending therein Mortality's poor tale
Of sad offendings ; while we listening by
Discern his lineaments, all silvery pale,
Lightening the mists that move in Death's dim-peopled vale.