Unsullied, incorruptible, and drink
Imperishable majesty streamed forth
From thy empyreal throne, the elect of earth
Shall be, divested at the appointed hour
Of all dishonor, cleansed from mortal stain.
Accomplish, then, their number; and conclude
Time's weary course! Or if, by thy decree,
The consummation that will come by stealth
Be yet far distant, let thy Word prevail,-
Oh! let thy Word prevail, to take away
The sting of human nature. Spread the Law,
As it is written in thy holy Book,
Throughout all lands: let every nation hear
The high behest, and every heart obey ;
Both for the love of purity, and hope
Which it affords, to such as do thy will
And persevere in good, that they shall rise,
To have a nearer view of Thee, in heaven.
Father of Good! this prayer in bounty grant,
mercy grant it to thy wretched sons.
Then, nor till then, shall persecution cease,
And cruel wars expire. The way is marked,
The Guide appointed, and the ransom paid.
Alas! the nations who of yore received
These tidings, and in Christian temples meet
The sacred truth to acknowledge, linger still;
Preferring bonds and darkness to a state
Of holy freedom, by redeeming love
Proffered to all, while yet on earth detained.
THE PASTOR'S PRAYER AT SUNSET.
"Once," and with mild demeanor, as he spake, On us the venerable Pastor turned
His beaming eye that had been raised to Heav
"Once, while the name Jehovah was a sound
Within the circuit of this sea-girt isle
Unheard, the savage nations bowed the head
To gods delighting in remorseless deeds;
Gods which themselves had fashioned, to pro-
Ill purposes, and flatter foul desires.
Then, in the bosom of yon mountain cove
To those inventions of corrupted man
Mysterious rites were solemnized; and there,
Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods,
Of those terrific Idols some received
Such dismal service, that the loudest voice
Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard
Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome,
Though aided by wild winds, the groans and
shrieks
Of human victims, offered up to appease
Or to propitiate. And, if living eyes
Had visionary faculties to see
The thing that hath been as the thing that is,
Aghast we might behold this crystal Mere
Bedimmed with smoke, in wreaths voluminous,
Flung from the body of devouring fires,
To Taranis erected on the heights
By priestly hands, for sacrifice performed
Exultingly, in view of open day
And full assemblage of a barbarous host;
Or to Andates, female Power! who gave
(For so they fancied) glorious victory.
A few rude monuments of mountain stone Survive; all else is swept away. - How bright The appearances of things! From such, how changed
The existing worship; and with those compared,
The worshippers how innocent and blest!
So wide the difference, a willing mind,
At this affecting hour, might almost think
That Paradise, the lost abode of man,
Was raised again; and to a happy few,
In its original beauty, here restored.
"Whence but from Thee, the true and only God, And from the faith derived through Him who bled Upon the Cross, this marvellous advance
Of good from evil? as if one extreme
Were left, the other gained. — 0 ye,
To kneel devoutly in yon reverend Pile,
Called to such office by the peaceful sound
Of Sabbath bells; and ye, who sleep in earth,
All cares forgotten, round its hallowed walls!
For you, in presence of this little band
Gathered together on the green hill-side,
Your Pastor is emboldened to prefer
THE PASTOR'S PRAYER AT SUNSET.
Vocal thanksgivings to the Eternal King; Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands,
Your very poorest rich in peace of thought
And in good works; and him who is endowed
With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth
Which the salvation of his soul requires.
Conscious of that abundant favor showered
On you, the children of my humble care,
And this dear land, our country while on earth
We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul,
Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude.
These barren rocks, your stern inheritance;
These fertile fields, that recompense your pains;
The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain top ;
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads,
Or hushed; the roaring waters, and the still;-
They see the offering of my lifted hands,
They hear my lips present their sacrifice,
They know if I be silent, morn or even :
For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart
Will find a vent; and thought is praise to Him,
Audible praise to Thee, Omniscient Mind,
From whom all gifts descend, all blessings
flow!"
THIS cottage door, this gentle gale,
Hay-scented, whispering round,
Yon path-side rose, that down the vale
Breathes incense from the ground,
Methinks should from the dullest clod
Invite a thankful heart to God.
But, Lord, the violet, bending low,
Seems better moved to praise ;
From us, what scanty blessings flow,
How voiceless close our days!
Father, forgive us, and the flowers.
Shall lead in prayer the vesper hours.
How many days, with mute adieu,
Have gone down yon untrodden sky!
And still it looks as clear and blue
As when it first was hung on high.
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