They deem thy holy word a law of rigour;
Thy name from them no adoration wins;
They move in outward healthfulness and vigour,
Yet are they dead in trespasses and sins.
Lord! to our fond and tender prayers restore them;
Teach them to feel thy greatness and thy worth;
Spread thy divine and holy influence o'er them,
As when thou saidest, “Lazarus, come forth!"
He came, in gratitude the boon confessing,
That call'd him back to scenes of earthly strife; Oh! grant to those we love a dearer blessing— Call them from death unto eternal life!
How pleasant is the opening year !
The clouds of winter melt away;
The flowers in beauty re-appear;
The songster carols from the spray;
Lengthens the more refulgent day;
And bluer glows the arching sky;
All things around us seem to say,
"Christian, direct thy thoughts on high!"
In darkness, through the dreary length
Of winter, slept both bud and bloom;
But Nature now puts forth her strength,
And starts, renew'd, as from the tomb.
Behold an emblem of thy doom,
O man! a star hath shone to save,
And morning yet shall re-illume
The midnight darkness of the grave!
Yet ponder well, how then shall break
The dawn of second life on thee;
Shalt thou to hope, to bliss awake?
Or vainly strive God's wrath to flee? Then shall pass forth the dread decree,
That makes or weal or wo thine own: Up and to work! Eternity
Must reap the harvest Time has sown.
It is a consecrated place,
Where solemn thoughts and memories dwell, Where lingers many a tender trace,
The tale of wondrous love to tell.
Yes! from that still and holy ground
What visions greet the spirit's eye!
What tones are in the whispering sound
Of branches, and the wind's low sigh.
Thou lonely mount! the Son of God
Oft rested on thy shady side;
How oft by Cedron's marge He trod
With those on whom His love relied.
Oft, when thy leaves' dim shadowy green
Shone silvery in the midnight ray,
He sought thy solitude unseen,
And watch'd in prayer till rise of day.
Unfelt, the chilling night-drops stole
Around His head, so meekly bow'd,
While He sustain'd His human soul
In near communion with His God.
'Twas 'neath that hush'd and solemn gloom,
Surrounded by the listening band,
He spake the bloody city's doom,
And prophesied her hour at hand.
"Twas there at even's closing hour,
Within the garden's dewy shade,
While darkness held a transient power,
He sank, to sinners' hands betray'd.
The scene is fresh: the torch's gleam-
The Roman and the Pharisee
The mingled crowd by Cedron's stream-
The meek surrender-"I am he!"
There, too, His risen steps were bent,
And there was His last blessing given,
While saints beheld His bright ascent,
And angels led their faith to heaven.
Fair Mount! thy light seems pass'd away,
In time's receding distance set;
But there shall dawn a brighter day,
And glory rest on Olivet!
We may not pierce the veil that shrouds
The vista of appointed years,
Yet He shall surely come" with clouds,
And we shall live when He appears.
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