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ALAS! how light a cause may move
Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
That stood the storm when waves were rough,
Like ships that have gone down at sea
A something, light as air-a look,
A word unkind, or wrongly taken
O love, that tempests never shook,
A breath, a touch like this, hath shaken;
To spread the breach that words begin;
As though its waters ne'er could sever,
Breaks into floods that part for ever.
THE GLORY OF GOD IN NATURE.
THOU art, O God, the life and light
Are but reflections caught from thee!
When Day with farewell beam delays,
Through golden vistas into heaven;
When Night, with wings of stormy gloom,
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume
When youthful Spring around us breathes,
FALLEN is thy throne, O Israel!
Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Thy children weep in chains.
The fire from heaven that led thee,
Lord, thou didst love Jerusalem;
Once she was all thine own!
Her love thy fairest heritage,
Her power thy glory's throne,
Till evil came and blighted
Thy long-loved olive-tree,
And Salem's shrines were lighted
Then sank the star of Solyma,
Then passed her glory's day,
Like heath that in the wilderness
Where once the mighty trod;
And sunk those guilty towers,
Where Baal reigned as God.
"Go," said the Lord, "ye conquerors,
Steep in her blood your swords,
And raze to earth her battlements,
For they are not the Lord's.
Tell Zion's mournful daughter
O'er kindred bones she'll tread, And Hinnom's vale of slaughter
Shall hide but half her dead."
But soon shall other pictured scenes
When Zion's sun shall sevenfold shine
On all her mourner's eyes;
And on her mountains beauteous stand
TO THE BRAMBLE FLOWER.
THY fruit full well the school-boy knows,
Go put thou forth thy small white rose:
I love it for his sake.
Though woodbines flaunt and roses glow
For dull the eye, the heart is dull
That cannot feel how fair, Amid all beauty beautiful,
Thy tender blossoms are!
How rich thy branchy stem!
While silent flowers are falling slow,
Lone whispering through the bush!
But thou, wild bramble! back dost bring,
The fresh green days of life's fair spring,
To gad with thee the woodlands o'er,
In freedom and in joy.
STEAM IN THE DESERT.
"GOD made all nations of one blood,"
Lo, interchange is happiness!--
The shipless have no pen!
What deed sublime by them is wrought?
What soul-ennobled page?
No record tells their tale of pain!
Th' unwritten History of Cain
Is theirs from age to age!