And say, that He who from the dust
Recalls the slumbering flower,
Will surely visit those who trust
The Saviour's love and power;
Will mark where sleeps their peaceful clay,
And roll, erelong, the stone away.
THE bird let loose in eastern skies,
When hastening fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam.
But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadows dim her way.
So grant me, Lord, from every care,
And sinful passion free,
Through pure religion's clearer air,
To hold my course to thee!
No sin to cloud-no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs;
Thy sunshine on her joyful way;
Thy freedom on her wings.
HEAR, Father, hear thy faint, afflicted flock
Cry to Thee from the desert and the rock,
While those who seek to slay thy children hold
Blasphemous worship under roofs of gold;
And the broad goodly lands, with pleasant airs,
That nurse the grape, and wave the grain, are their's.
Yet better were this mountain wilderness,
And this wild life of suffering and distress-
Watchings by night, and dangerous flight by day,
And meetings in the depths of earth to pray :
Better, far better, than to kneel with them,
And pay the impious rite thy laws condemn.
Soon, mighty God, soon shall thy frown break forth
Unveiled, and terribly shall shake the earth:
Then the foul power of Antichrist, and all
His long upheld idolatries, shall fall,
Thou shalt raise up the trampled and opprest,
And thy delivered saints shall dwell in rest.
MARRIAGE HYMN.
NOT for the summer hour alone,
When skies resplendent shine,
And youth and pleasure fill the throne,
Our hearts and hands we join;
But for those stern and wintry days
Of peril, pain, and fear,
When Heaven's wise discipline doth make
This earthly journey drear.
Not for this span of life alone,
Which as a blast doth fly,
And like the transient flower of grass,
Just blossom, droop, and die;
But for a being without end,
This vow of love we take;
Grant us, O God! one home at last,
For our Redeemer's sake.
REFLECTED on the lake, I love
To see the stars of evening glow;
So tranquil in the heaven above,
So restless on the wave below.
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,
But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,
Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,
As false and fleeting as 'tis fair.
AN AUTUMNAL SABBATH HYMN.
LORD of the harvest! Thee we hail; Thine ancient promise doth not fail; With goodness all our years are crowned, The varying seasons haste their round; Our thanks we pay,
O let our hearts in tune be found.
If Spring doth wake the song of mirth,
If Summer warms the fruitful earth,
If Winter sweeps the dreary plain,
Or Autumn yields its ripened grain ;-
Still do we sing
To Thee, our King;
Through all their changes Thou dost reign.
But chiefly when Thy liberal hand
Scatters new plenty o'er the land,
When sounds of music fill the air,
As homeward all their treasures bear;
We too will raise
Our hymn of praise,
For we thy common bounties share.
Lord of the harvest! all is Thine!
The rains that fall, the suns that shine,
The seed once hidden in the ground,
The skill that makes our fruits abound;
New every year,
New praises from our lips shall sound.
PSALMODY IN MANCETTER CHURCH, ON SUNDAY
MORNING, NOV. 25TH, 1838.
SWEET bird! who taught thee thus to raise
Thy gentle voice in notes of praise?
Thy joy it seem'd with us to sing
The glories of our Heavenly King;
And from thy little warbling throat,
To sound thy loudest, sweetest note,
As if thy song was meant to blame
Christians, whose silence is their shame.
SUGGESTED BY A DYING FATHER'S REQUEST TO
SEE HIS GARDEN ONCE MORE,
FEB. 8TH, 1843.
LET me once more my garden see,
That garden once so dear to me;
Alas! 'tis now o'erspread with gloom;
It seems an emblem of the tomb!
Yet, Lord, there is a garden fair,
Where balmy odours fills the air;
Where flowers of celestial day,
Shall never, never fade away.
Since there" The Tree of Life" I view,
Content-I bid the earth adieu!
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