FROM THE PLEASURES OF HOPE

At summer eve, ^vhen Heaven's ethereal bow Spans wilb bright arch ihe giillering hills below , Why to von mounlain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbrighl sunnnit mingles wilh the sky? Why do those clilîs of shadowy tint appear More sweet ihan ail the laiidscape sniiling near? — 'Tis dislance lends enchanlnicnt to the view , And robes the mounlain in ils azuré hue. Thus, wilh delight \ve linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way; Thus, irom alar, each dim-discovered scène More plcasing seems than ail the past hath been ; And every l'orm, ihai Fancy can repair From dark obliviou, glows divinely iliere.

{Tliouias Campbell.^