Sidor som bilder

The path of prayer thyself hast trod :
Lord teach us how to pray.



AWAKE, Sweet harp of Judah, wake,
Retune thy strings for Jesus' sake;
We sing the Saviour of our race,
The Lamb, our shield and hiding-place.

When God's right arm is bared for war,
And thunders clothe his cloudy car,
Where, where, O where, shall man retire,
To escape the horrors of his ire?

'Tis he, the Lamb, to him we fly,
While the dread tempest passes by;
God sees his Well-beloved's face,
And spares us in our hiding-place.

Thus while we dwell in this low scene,
The Lamb is our unfailing screen;
To him, though guilty, still we run,
And God still spares us for his Son.

While yet we sojourn here below,
Pollutions still our hearts o'erflow;
Fall'n, abject, mean, a sentenc'd race,
We deeply need a hiding-place.

Yet courage-days and years will glide,
And we shall lay these clods aside;
Shall be baptized in Jordan's flood,
And wash'd in Jesus' cleansing blood.

Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed,
We through the Lamb shall be decreed;

Shall meet the Father face to face,
And need no more a hiding-place.



Look on its broken arch, its ruin'd wall,
Its chambers desolate, and portals foul.
Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall,
The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul:
Behold through each lack-lustre eyeless hole,
The gay recess of wisdom and of wit,
And passions hot that never brook'd control.
Can all saint, sage, or sophist, ever writ,
People this lonely tower, this tenement refit?



ROLL on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ;
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control
Stops with the shore;-upon the wat'ry plain
The wrecks are all thy dead, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and un-

His steps are not upon thy paths,-thy fields
Are not a spoil for him,-thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he

For earth's destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,

And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hopes in some near fort or bay, And dashest him again to earth:-there let him lay. The armaments which thunder-strike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires changed in all save theeAssyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free; And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts:-not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' playTime writes no wrinkle on thine azure browSuch as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark-heaving ;-boundless, endless, and sublime

The image of Eternity-the throne

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless,




Nor seldom, clad in radiant vest,
Deceitfully goes forth the Morn;
Not seldom Evening in the west
Sinks smilingly forsworn.

The smoothest seas will sometimes prove,
To the confiding Bark, untrue;

And if she trust the stars above,
They can be treacherous too.

The umbrageous Oak, in pomp outspread,
Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,
Draws lightning down upon the head
It promised to defend.

But Thou art true, incarnate Lord!
Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;
Thy smile is sure, thy plighted word
No change can falsify!

I bent before thy gracious throne,
And ask'd for peace with suppliant knee;
And peace was given-nor peace alone,
But faith, and hope, and ecstacy!




THEY sin who tell us Love can die.
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.

In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell.
Earthly these passions, are of earth,
They perish where they have their birth.
But Love is indestructible;

Its holy flame for ever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at times opprest,
It here is tried and purified,

And hath in heaven its perfect rest;
It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of Love is there.
O! when a mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,
Hath she not then, for pains and fears,
The day of wo, the anxious night,
For all her sorrow, all her tears,
An over-payment of delight!


[ocr errors]


BRIGHT be the place of thy soul,
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.

On earth thou wert all but divine,

As thy soul shall immortally be;

And our sorrow may cease to repine

When we know that thy God is with the

Light be the turf of thy tomb!

May its verdure like emeralds be,
There should not be the shadow of gloom
In aught that reminds us of thee.
Young flowers and an evergreen tree
May spring from the spot of thy rest;
But nor cypress, nor yew let us see;

For why should we mourn for the blest?


« FöregåendeFortsätt »