A rhythmic silence holds the skies;

What time the Day-spring softly wells
From Night's dark caverns, till it sets
In long, melodious, tidal swells,
Toward the wide flood-gates of the West;--

Oh, open then my dungeon door!
Let Nature lead me, blind of eyes,
If haply I may _feel_ once more
The pillars of the steadfast skies;

If haply there may fall for me
Some strange assurance in my fears,--
As he who heard on Galilee,
That stormy night in wondrous years,

The "It is I," and o'er the foam
Of what seemed phantom-haunted seas,
Saw glory of the kingdom come,
The footsteps of the Prince of Peace!




THE PROGRESS OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.


"Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to
the end of the world."