The Favor Of The Moment.

Once more, then, we meet     In the circles of yore;     Let our song be as sweet     In its wreaths as before,     Who claims the first place     In the tribute of song?     The God to whose grace     All our pleasures belong.     Though Ceres may spread     All her gifts on the shrine,     Though the glass may be red     With the blush of the vine,     What boots if the while     Fall no spark on the hearth;     If the heart do not smile     With the instinct of mirth?     From the clouds, from God's breast     Must our happiness fall,     'Mid the blessed, most blest     Is the moment of all!     Since creation began     All that mortals have wrought,     All that's godlike in man     Comes the flash of a thought!     For ages the stone     In the quarry may lurk,     An instant alone     Can suffice to the work;     An impulse give birth     To the child of the soul,     A glance stamp the worth     And the fame of the whole. [17]     On the arch that she buildeth     From sunbeams on high,     As Iris just gildeth,     And fleets from the sky,     So shineth, so gloometh     Each gift that is ours;     The lightning illumeth     The darkness devours! [18]