And fountains sparkle in the arid sands, And pillared temples rise Thy name to bless. O'er Judah's land Thy thunders broke, O Lord! The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate, Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian sword, E’en her foes wept to see her fallen state: For Thou didst ride the tempest-cloud of fate. O'er Judah's land Thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam, And the sad city lift her crownless head; And songs shall wake, and dancing footsteps gleam, Where broods o'er fallen streets the silence of the dead. The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers, On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers, To deck, at blushing eve, their bridal bowers, And angel-feet the glittering Sion tread. Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves; With fettered steps we left our pleasant land, Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The stranger's bread with bitter tears we steep, And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, 'Neath the mute midnight we steal forth to weep, Where the pale willows shade Euphrates’ waves. The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy; Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead Thy children home; He that went forth a tender yearling boy, Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come. And Canaan's vines for us their fruits shall bear, And Hermon's bees their honied stores prepare; And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, Where, o'er the cherub-seated God, full blazed the irradiate dome. HENRY HART MILMAN. Father! Thou must Lead. If thou the Spirit give by which I pray: That quickens only where Thou sayest it may. Unless Thou show to us thy own true way, No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead : Do Thou then breathe these thoughts into my mind, By which such virtue may in me be bred, I may power to sing of Thee! And sound thy praises everlastingly. MICHEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI, Trans. by WORDSWORTH. Faith. Deceitfully goes forth the morn; Sinks smilingly forsworn. prove, They can be treacherous too. Full oft, when storms the welkin rend, It promised to defend. Who didst vouchsafe for man to die; No change can falsify! And asked for peace with suppliant knee; WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Far from the World, O Lord, I Flee. FAR from the world , O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree; And seem by thy sweet bounty made For those who follow Thee. And grace her mean abode, She communes with her God. Her solitary lays; Nor thirsts for human praise. Sweet source of light divine, My Saviour, Thou art mine! A boundless, endless store, WILLIAM COWPER. Faith, the Evidence of Things Unseen. LORD, how couldst thou so much appease Thy wrath for sin, as, when man's sight was dim And could see little, to regard his ease, And bring by faith all things to him ? Bear firmly; yet a few more days, And thy hard trial will be past; Then, wrapt in glory's opening blaze, Thy feet will rest on heaven at last. Christian! thy Friend, thy Master pray'd, When dread and anguish shook his frame; Then met his sufferings undismay'd; Wilt thou not strive to do the same ? O! think'st thou that his Father's love Shone round him then with fainter rays Than now, when, throned all height above, Unceasing voices hymn his praise ? Go, sufferer! calmly meet the woes Which God's own mercy bids thee bear; Then, rising as thy SAVIOUR rose, Go! his eternal victory share. ANDREWS NORTON, Footsteps of Angels. WHEN the hours of day are number'd, And the voices of the Night To a holy, calm delight; And, like phantoms grim and tall, Dance upon the parlour-wall; ; |