Alas, that ever we did sin!
For therefore feels our heart these cares;
For that our eyes have dimmèd been,
And thus the hill of Sion fares.
Such desolation there is seen,
That now the foxes play thereon;
But thou for ever, Lord, hast been,
And without ending is thy throne.
6.
Oh, why are we forgotten thus?
So long time wherefore absent art? Convert thyself, oh Lord, to us,
And we to thee shall soon convert.
Renew, oh Lord, those ages past,
In which thy favour we have seen!
For we extremely are debas'd,
And bitter hath thine anger been.
GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667).
ALL Souls, O Lord, are Thine;-assurance blest!
Thine, not our own to rob of help
Not man's to doom to any human test, But Thine, O gracious Lord, and only Thine!
Surely "the soul that sinneth, it shall die"
Die to the sin that would its life confine!
Evil shall boast not perpetuity,
Since every soul, however fall'n, is Thine.
Thine, by Thy various discipline, to lead
To heights where heavenly truths immortal shine;
Truths, none eternally shall fail to heed, For all, O Lord, are Thine, forever Thine.
Forgive the thought, that everlasting ill To any can be part of Thy design; Finite, imperfect, erring, guilty,—still All souls, great God, are Thine,-and mercy Thine.
A sad and thoughtful youth, I went
With Israel's early banishment;
And where the sullen Chebar crept,
The ritual of my fathers kept.
The water for the trench I drew,
The firstling of the flock I slew,
And, standing at the altar's side,
I shared the Levites' lingering pride,
That still amidst her mocking foes,
The smoke of Zion's offering rose.
In sudden whirlwind, cloud and flame,
The Spirit of the Highest came!
Before mine eyes a vision passed,
A glory terrible and vast;
With dreadful eyes of living things,
And sounding sweep of angel-wings,
With circling light and sapphire throne,
And flame-like form of One thereon,
And voice of that dread Likeness sent
Down from the crystal firmament!
The burden of a prophet's power
Fell on me in that fearful hour;
From off unutterable woes
The curtain of the future rose;
I saw far down the coming time
The fiery chastisement of crime;
With noise of mingling hosts, and jar
Of falling towers and shouts of war,
I saw the nations rise and fall,
Like fire-gleams on my tent's white wall.
In dream and trance, I saw the slain
Of Egypt heaped like harvest grain.
I saw the walls of sea-born Tyre
Swept over by the spoiler's fire;
And heard the low, expiring moan
Of Edom on his rocky throne;
And, woe is me! the wild lament
From Zion's desolation sent;
And felt within my heart each blow
Which laid her holy places low.
In bonds and sorrow, day by day,
Before the pictured tile I lay;
And there, as in a mirror, saw
The coming of Assyria's war;
Her swarthy lines of spearmen pass
Like locusts through Bethhoron's grass;
I saw them draw their stormy hem
Of battle round Jerusalem;
And, listening, heard the Hebrew wail
Blend with the victor-trump of Baal!
Who trembled at my warning word?
Who owned the prophet of the Lord?
How mocked the rude, how scoffed the
vile,
How stung the Levites' scornful smile,
As o'er my spirit, dark and slow,
The shadow crept of Israel's woe,
As if the angel's mournful roll
Had left its record on my soul,
And traced in lines of darkness there
The picture of its great despair!
Yet ever at the hour I feel
My lips in prophecy unseal.
Prince, priest and Levite gather near,
And Salem's daughters haste to hear,
On Chebar's waste and alien shore,
The harp of Judah swept once more.
They listen, as in Babel's throng
The Chaldeans to the dancer's song,
Or wild Sabbeka's nightly play,
As careless and as vain as they.
And thus, O Prophet-bard of old,
Hast thou thy tale of sorrow told!
The same which earth's unwelcome
Have felt in all succeeding years.
Sport of the changeful multitude,
Nor calmly heard nor understood,
Their song has seemed a trick of art,
Their warnings but the actor's part.
With bonds, and scorn, and evil will,
The world requites its prophets still.
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER (1807-1892).
THE COVENANT.
(Ezek. xxxvi: 25-28.)
THE Lord proclaims His grace abroad! "Behold, I change your hearts of stone;
Each shall renounce his idol-god, And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone.
"My grace, a flowing stream proceeds
To wash your filthiness away;
Ye shall abhor your former deeds,
And learn my statutes to obey.
"My truth the great design ensures, I give myself away to you;
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