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Yet there be vast and dim dominions,
Ocean without a shore, Which not the boldest angel-pinions
Have ventured to explore;
And there be mysteries fathomless,
Wrought in a realm of fire, Whereat the Cherubim may guess,
But have not dared enquire. One thing we know, that
back, Before your earth was made, There rose a cloud, so densely black
It cast e'en Heaven in shade.
That darkness past, and light on high
Again serenely shone; But when we looked along the sky,
Ten thousand stars were gone!
Again the angel-watch was set
The eternal gates before; But many a face we there had met,
We met again no more. God o'er their fate a veil has spread,
Nor further may we win; Save of its cause a rumour dread,
That sighed the name of sin.
God guard us safe from aught of ill,
In knowledge or in deed! To know His love, to do His will
We ask no higher meed.
May naught avert the blessing given
His creatures at their birth;
HE feeble pulse, the gasping breath,
The clenched teeth, the glazed eye, Are these thy fting, thou dreadful death?
O grave, are these thy victory?
The mourners by our parting bed,
The wife, the children weeping nigh, The dismal pageant of the dead
These, these are not thy victory!
But from the much-loved world to part,
Our luft untamed, our spirit high, All nature struggling at the heart,
Which, dying, feels it dare not die !
To dream through life a gaudy dream
Of pride, and pomp, and luxury, Till waken’d by the nearer gleam
Of burning, boundless agony ;
To meet o'er foon our angry King,
Whose love we passed unheeded by Is this, O death, thy deadliest sting?
O grave, and this thy victory?
O Searcher of the secret heart,
Who deigned for finful man to die !
O up and watch the new-born rill
Streaking the heath-clad hill
Canst thou her bold career foretell,
How far in Ocean's swell
* This powerful description of untamed fin at its closing hour will more forcibly remind the reader of that awful hymn by Peter Damian on “the Last Day,” which is given in this collection, than what is usually found in modern compofitions.
Perchance that little brook shall flow
Bear navies to and fro
Even so, the course of prayer who knows? It springs in silence where it will,
Springs out of fight, and flows
At first a lonely rill :
Together swelling high
Unheard by all but angel ears
Nor dreamed his prayers and tears
The while upon his terraced roof
In filent thought aloof
Far o'er the glowing western main
Where, like an Angel's train
The burnish'd water blazed.
Where all his eye surveyed
To each unknown his brother's prayer,
Were they, - and now they share
JATHER of all, in every age,
clime adored ;
Jehovah, Jove, our Lord.
If I am right, Thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh teach my
heart To find that better way.
Teach me to feel another's woe;
To hide the faults I see ; The mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.