And hark! below, aloft,
From cliffs that pierce the cloud,
From blue lake calm and soft,
Lulled in its twilight shroud-
Fresh strength our anthem gathers:
From Alp to Alp 'tis poured-
The song that soothed our fathers-
Ye shepherds-Praise the Lord!
Now from forest, flood, and fell,
Let the voice of old and young—
All the strength of Apenzell-
True of heart, and sweet of tongue,
The grateful hymn prolong,
And tune the spirit's chord,
Till yon stars take up our song,
Hallelujah to the Lord!
UNFADING hope! when life's last embers burn,
When soul to soul, and dust to dust return;
Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour!
Oh! then thy kingdom comes, immortal Power!
What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly
The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye,
Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey
The morning dream of life's eternal day.
Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin,
And all the phoenix spirit burns within!
Oh deep-enchanting prelude to repose,
The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes:
Yet half I hear the panting spirit sigh,
It is a dread and awful thing to die!
Mysterious worlds, untravelled by the sun;
Where time's far wandering tide has never run,
From your unfathomed shades, and viewless spheres,
A warning comes, unheard by other ears.
"Tis heaven's commanding trumpet, long and loud,
Like Sinai's thunder, pealing from the cloud!
While nature hears with terror-mingled trust,
The shock that hurls her fabric to the dust;
And like the trembling Hebrew, when he trod
The roaring waves, and called upon his God,
With mortal terrors clouds immortal bliss,
And shrieks, and hovers o'er the dark abyss!
Daughter of faith, awake, arise, illume
The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb;
Melt, and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll
Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul!
Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay,
Chased on his night-steed by the star of day!
The strife is o'er!-the pangs of nature close,
And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes.
Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze,
The noon of heaven, undazzled by the blaze,
On heavenly winds that waft her to the sky,
Float the sweet tones of star-born melody;
Wild as the hallowed anthem sent to hail
Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale,
When Jordan hushed his waves, and midnight still
Watched on the holy towers of Zion hill.
WHERE art thou, bird of song?
Brightest one and dearest !
Other groves among—
Other nests thou cheerest;
Sweet thy warbling shrill
To each ear that heard thee;
But 'twas sweeter still
To the heart that reared thee.
Lamb, where dost thou rest?
On stranger-bosoms lying?
Flowers thy path that drest
Now uncropped are dying.
Streams where thou didst roam,
Murmur on without thee;
Lovest thou still thy home?
Can thy mother doubt thee?
Seek thy Saviour's flock,
To his blest fold going—
Seek that smitten rock,
Where our peace is flowing:
Still should love rejoice,
Whatsoe'er betide thee,
If that Shepherd's voice,
Evermore would guide thee.
O! ask not, hope thou not too much
Of sympathy below;
Few are the hearts whence one same touch
Bids the sweet fountains flow:
Few-and by still conflicting powers
Forbidden here to meet
Such ties would make this life of ours
Too fair for aught so fleet.
It may be that thy brother's eye
Sees not as thine, which turns
In such deep reverence to the sky,
Where the rich sunset burns:
It may be that the breath of spring,
Born amidst violets lone,
A rapture o'er thy soul can bring,
A dream, to his unknown.
The tune that speaks of other times—
A sorrowful delight!
The melody of distant chimes,
The sound of waves by night;
The wind that, with so many a tone,
Some chord within can thrill,
These may have language all thine own, To him a mystery still.
Yet scorn thou not for this, the true
And steadfast love of years;
The kindly, that from childhood grew,
The faithful to thy tears!
If there be one that o'er the dead
Hath in thy grief borne part,
And watched through sickness by thy bed,—
Call his a kindred heart!
But for those bonds all perfect made,
Wherein bright spirits blend,
Like sister flowers of one sweet shade,
With the same breeze that bend,
For that full bliss of thought allied,
Never to mortals given,-
O! lay thy lovely dreams aside,
Or lift them unto heaven.
BREAST THE WAVE, CHRISTIAN.
BREAST the wave, Christian,
When it is strongest;
Watch for day, Christian,
When the night's longest;
Onward and onward still,
Be thine endeavour;
The rest that remaineth,
Will be for ever.
Fight the fight, Christian,
Jesus is o'er thee;
Run the race, Christian,
Heaven is before thee;
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