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Of eloquent worship. Ocean, with its tide,
Swelling and deep, where low the infant storm
Hung on his dun, dark cloud, and heavily beat
The pulses of the sea, sent forth a voice
Of awful adoration of the Spirit,
That, wrapped in darkness, moved upon its face.
And when the bow of evening arched the east,
Or, in the moon-light pale, the gentle wave
Kissed, with a sweet embrace, the sea-worn beach,
And the wild song of winds came o'er the waters,
The mingled melody of wind and wave
Touched like a heavenly anthem on the ear;
For it arose a tuneful hymn of worship.
And have our hearts grown cold? Are there on
No pure reflections caught from heavenly love?
Have our mute lips no hymn-our souls no song ?
Let him that in the summer-day of youth,
Keeps pure the holy fount of youthful feeling,
And him, that in the night-fall of his years,
Lies down in his last sleep, and shuts in peace
His weary eyes on life's short wayfaring,
Praise Him that rules the destiny of man.
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
IKE to the damask rose you see,
Or like the blossom on the tree,
Or like the dainty flow'r of May,
Or like the morning of the day,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonas had,-
Even so is man, whose thread is spun,
Drawn out, and cut, and so is done:
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,
The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
The sun sets, the shadow flies,
The gourd consumes, and man he dies.
Deathless Principle, Arise !
EATHLESS principle, arise !
Soar, thou native of the skies !
Pearl of price, by Jesus bought,
To his glorious likeness wrought!
Go to shine before his throne;
Deck his mediatorial crown;
Go, His triumph to adorn,-
Made for God, to God return.
Lo! He beckons from on high,
Fearless to His presence fly:
Thine the merit of his blood;
Thine the righteousness of God!
Angels, joyful to attend,
Hovering, round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,
And escort thee quick to heaven.
Is thy earthly house distress'd,
Willing to retain her guest ?
'Tis not thou, but she, must die.
Fly, celestial tenant, fly!
Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay;
Sweetly breathe thyself away :
Singing, to thy crown remove,
Swift of wing, and fired with love.
Shudder not to pass the stream ;
Venture all thy care on Him;
Him, whose dying love and power
Still'd its tossing, hush'd its roar.
Safe is the expanded wave;
Gentle as a summer's eve;
Not one object of His care
Ever suffer'd shipwreck there.
See the haven full in view!
Love divine shall bear thee through.
Trust to that propitious gale;
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail.
Saints in glory perfect made,
Wait thy passage through the shade;
Ardent for thy coming o'er,
See! they throng the blissful shore,
Mount, their transports to improve;
Join the longing choir above;
Swiftly to their wish be given;
Kindle higher joy in heaven.-
Such the prospects that arise
To the dying Christian's eyes;
Such the glorious vista, Faith
Opens through the shades of death.
Evening. 'TIS gone, that bright and orbèd blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.
In darkness and in weariness
The traveller on his
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.
Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near :
Oh! may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.
When round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power, and Love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove ;-
Or by the light Thy words disclose
Watch Time's full river as it flows,
Scanning Thy gracious Providence,
Where not too deep for mortal sense ;-
When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold;
Let not my heart within me burn,
Except in all I Thee discern.
When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
my last thought, how sweet to rest For ever on my Saviour's breast !
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live:
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
Thou Framer of the light and dark,
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark:
Amid the howling wintry sea
We are in port if we have Thee.
The Rulers of this Christian land,
'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand,-
Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright,
Let all do all as in Thy sight.
Oh! by Thine own sad burthen, borne
So meekly up the hill of scorn,
Teach Thou Thy Priests their daily cross
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss !
If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurn’d, to-day, the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick: enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in Heaven above.