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All is of God! If he but wave his hand,
Lo! he looks back from the departing cloud.
Angels of Life and Death alike are his; Without his leave they pass no threshold
o'er; Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this,
Against his messengers to shut the door?
DAYLIGHT AND MOONLIGHT.
In broad daylight, and at noon,
In broad daylight, yesterday,
And it seemed to me at most
As a phantom, or a ghost.
But at length the feverish day
Then the moon, in all her pride,
And the Poet's song again
THE JEWISH CEMETERY AT NEWPORT.
How strange it seems! These Hebrews in
Close by the street of this fair seaport town, Silent beside the never-silent waves,
At rest in all this moving up and down!
The trees are white with dust, that o'er their
Wave their broad curtains in the south
wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they keep
The long, mysterious Exodus of Death. .
And these sepulchral stones, so old and brown, That
pave with level flags their burial-place, Seem like the tablets of the Law, thrown down
And broken by Moses at the mountain's
The very names recorded here are strange,
Of foreign accent, and of different climes; Alvares and Rivera interchange
With Abraham and Jacob of old times.
“ Blessed be God! for he created Death!”
The mourners said, " and Death is rest and
peace”; Then added, in the certainty of faith, “ And giveth Life that never more shall
Closed are the portals of their Synagogue,
No Psalms of David now the silence break,