Even then my soul, with brighter visions blest, Ye fond and faithful few To me united in the Saviour's name, Meet me in spirit here! Be this heaven's gate, Where our glad souls in blest assurance wait, To waft our words on high, And with the earthly dross their holy incense blend, That they may bear an offering meet Unto the mercy-seat. Here be each vow renewed That rose in solitude, And banished every care that might intrude, For we are conquerors here! Here, as on Pisgah's Mount we stand, And view by faith the promised land, Where the many mansions bright Our souls invite Though prisoners still, celestial bliss we share, And wait the welcome word, to reign in glory there! Z. RIZ PA H. 2 SAM. XXI. 10. It is not that I think the spirit's light Back to those vacant eyes can e'er return, Or that the lips all silent now as night Again can breathe the love for which I yearn; That thus I watch beside my noble dead, While cold night-winds and dews are round me shed. I know that when the death-film finds a rest, Life in those forms mine eyes wait not to see, My soul is rent with agony! but, oh! Deeper the pang, to gaze on these no more; The hour of my farewell must come, I know— Why should I haste its anguish to explore? Oh! let me tarry by this faded clay Till time hath borne each lingering trace away! So the dew fell around her, and the blast Poured forth its ruthless fury on the spot; On those pale forms, but she forsook them not; Oh! blame her not, nor yet the true and deep, Though ineffectual love and care, she gave; Mortal! bethink thee, didst thou never cling Unto some cherished good with love like this? Back to the world the parted soul to bring, Would'st thou not yield thine all of earthly bliss ? What is the anguish that thou wouldst not brave Some treasure from its threatened wreck to save! Are there not thousands spiritually dead That on the rocks of sin neglected lie, She had no sweetener in her bitter cup, Too well she knew both prayers and tears were vain; Ye to the God of covenants can look up, Whose word returns not void to him again; He in your labours will be ever nigh Whose words are, "Turn ye! wherefore will CHRIST WEEPING OVER JERUSALEM. AT close of that triumphant day, While yet the palm-branch strewed the way, Upon the brow of Olivet, Or loud hosannas scarce had died Along the echoing mountain's side, Which infant tongues were tuned to raise, He saw that Temple wreathed in flame, He knew the sorrow, sin, and shame, That, darkening round the fane of God, Should drench its towers and streets with blood. He saw her glory laid in dust, And Sion's daughters doubly curst, Where God and man unite to dart That tear of pity was not shed O'er friends who loved his sacred head, But enemies, whose hate and scorn Should crown it soon with piercing thorn. Before him rose that dreadful hour, To wring the cry of agony, 66 Why hast thou, God, forsaken me ?” He heard the wild infuriate cry Yet could not check the tear that rose And fell o'er Salem's guilt and woes. Ꮓ |