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And shall not Ifrael's sons exulting come,
Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home?
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign,
And the dry bones be warm with life again.
Hark! white-robed crowds their deep hosannas

raise, And the hoarse flood repeats the found of praise ; Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song, Ten thousand, thousand saints the strain prolong; “Worthy the Lamb! Omnipotent to save, Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the grave."




SLEPT ; and in my sleep I dreamed

A hill before me lay,
Which, like a mighty barrier, seemed

To interrupt my way.


Its lofty summit touched the skies,

Its base the shades below;
And as I gazed, it seemed to rise,

And still more threatening grow.
An icy stillness o'er me stole,

And thrilled through every sense ;
While doubt and horror filled my soul

With agony intense.

In sore distress, I cried aloud

To God in fervent prayer ; And suddenly I saw a cloud

Glide slowly through the air.

And out of it there came a drop,

Like blood of crimson hue, Which fell upon the mountain top,

As soft as Hermon's dew.

And lo! the mountain passed away,

And vanished from my sight;
Like wreaths of mist at break of day,

Before the morning light.

Beyond it lay a fruitful land,

With rivers deep and wide, Which rolled upon the golden sand

Their clear and crystal tide.

Beside them goodly trees, endued

With healing virtues, grew; And flowers with ravished

eyes I viewed, Of every scent and hue.

And there his sheep a shepherd fed,

In pastures green and fair, And unto living fountains led,

With ever-watchful care.

Good Shepherd, well I know Thee now,

With ardent voice I cried ; Thou art my Lord and Saviour, Thou,

The Lamb, the Crucified.

The mountain was the load of guilt,

Which on my conscience lay;
The drop, the blood of Jesus spilt,

To wash my sins away.

My guilty soul, O Lord, renew

In that all-cleansing stream;
That thus the vision

And not a fleeting dream.

be true,



TOW pleasant to me thy deep blue wave,

O Sea of Galilee !
For the glorious One who came to save

Hath often stood by thee.


Fair are the lakes in the land I love,

Where the pine and heather grow;
But thou hast loveliness far above

What nature can bestow.

It is not that the wild Gazelle

Comes down to drink thy tide ;
But He that was pierced to save from hell

Oft wandered by thy side.

It is not that the fig-tree grows,

And palms, in thy soft air;
But that Sharon's fair and bleeding rose

Once spread her fragrance there.

Graceful around the mountains meet,

Thou calm reposing sea;
But ah! far more! the beautiful feet

Of Jesus walked o'er thee.

Those days are past!-Bethsaida, where ?

Chorazin, where art thou ?
His tent the wild Arab pitches there,

The wild reeds shade thy brow.
Tell me, ye mouldering fragments tell,

Was the Saviour's city here? Lifted to Heaven, has it sunk to hell,

With none to shed a tear?


Ah! would my flock from Thee might learn

How days of grace will flee ;
How all an offered Christ who spurn

Shall mourn at last like thee.

And was it beside this very sea

The new-risen Saviour faid Three times to Simon, “Lovest thou me ?

My lambs and sheep then feed.”

O Saviour ! gone to God's right hand,

Yet the fame Saviour still ;
Graved on thy heart is this lovely strand,

And every fragrant hill.

Oh! give me Lord, by this sacred wave,

Threefold thy love divine ;
That I may feed, till I find my grave,
Thy flock, both thine and mine.




E hath gone to the place of his rest,

He is safe in the home of his God; And we who have loved him, forsaken,


Submissive would bow to the rod. Though his accents can cheer us no more,

His love yet may speak from the grave; And thus on the broad wing of Faith may we soar

To One who is mighty to save. Our friend and our father we heard,

On earth, paint the glories of Heaven ;But now the lone Church, like a wandering bird,

To the home of the desert is driven. Entranced, on his visions we hung ;

Our hearts and our hopes were above; For the words of Persuasion fell soft from his tongue,

And the soul of his teaching was Love.


* Written by the Sea of Galilee, July 16th, 1839.

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