Weep, mourner, for the friends that pass
Into the lonesome grave,
As breezes sweep the withered grass
Along the whelming wave;
Yet though thy pleasure may depart,
And darksome days be given,
And lonely though on earth thou art,
Yet bliss awaits the holy heart,
When friends rejoin in heaven;
Where streams of joy glide ever on,
Around the Lord's eternal throne.
ARK! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of heaven, undazzled by the blaze, On heavenly winds that waft her to the sky, Float the sweet tones of star-born melody; Wild as that hallowed anthem sent to hail Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale, When Jordan hushed his waves, and midnight still Watched on the holy towers of Zion hill! Soul of the just! companion of the dead! Where is thy home, and whither art thou fled? Back to its heavenly source thy being goes, Swift as the comet wheels to whence he rose; Doomed on his airy path a while to burn, And doomed, like thee, to travel, and return. Hark! from the world's exploding centre driven, With sounds that shook the firmament of heaven, Careers the fiery giant, fast and far,
On bickering wheels, and adamantine car;
From planet whirled to planet more remote,
He visits realms beyond the reach of thought;
But, wheeling homeward, when his course is run,
Curbs the red yoke, and mingles with the sun!
So hath the traveller of earth unfurl'd
Her trembling wings, emerging from the world;
And, o'er the path by mortal never trod,
Sprung to her source, the bosom of her God!
HEAR thee speak of the better land;
Thou callest its children a happy band;
Mother! Oh, where is that radiant shore?-
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more?—
Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs?" "Not there, not there, my child!"
"Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Or, 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze;
And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?"-
"Not there, not there, my child!"
"Is it far away in some region old,
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold?--
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand?
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?"-
"Not there, not there, my child!”
"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair-—
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
Far beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,—
It is there, it is there, my child!"
ARPS of eternity! begin the song;
Redeemed, and angel harps! begin to God,
Begin the anthem ever sweet and new,
While I extol him, holy, just, and good,
Life, beauty, light, intelligence, and love!
Eternal, uncreated, infinite!
Unsearchable Jehovah; God of truth!
Maker, upholder, governor of all:
Thyself unmade, ungoverned, unupheld!
Omnipotent, unchangeable, great God!
Exhaustless fulness! giving unimpaired!
Bounding immensity, unspread, unbound!
Highest, and best! beginning, middle, end.
All-seeing Eye! all-seeing, and unseen!
Hearing, unheard! all knowing, and unknown!
Above all praise! above all height of thought;
Proprietor of immortality.
Glory ineffable! Bliss underived!
Of old thou built'st thy throne on righteousness,
Before the morning stars their song began,
Or silence heard the voice of praise. Thou laid'st
Eternity's foundation-stone, and saw'st
Life and Existence out of thee begin.
Mysterious more, the more displayed, where still
Upon thy glorious throne thou sitt'st alone:
Hast sat alone; and shall for ever sit
Alone-Invisible, Immortal One!
Behind, essential brightness unbeheld.
Incomprehensible! what weight shall weigh?
What measure measure Thee?- What know we more
Of thee? what need we know, than thou hast taught,
And bid'st us still repeat, at morn and even?
God! everlasting Father, Holy One!
Our God! our Father! our eternal All:
Source whence we came, and whither we return;
Who made our spirits, who our bodies made;
Who made the heaven, who made the flowery land;
Who made all made; who orders, governs all:
Who walks upon the wind; who holds the wave
In hollow of thy hand; whom thunders wait;
Whom tempests serve; whom flaming fires obey;
Who guides the circuit of the endless years;
Sittest on high, and makes creation's top
Thy footstool; and beholds below thee, all-
All nought, all less than nought, and vanity.
Like transient dust that hovers on the scale
Ten thousand worlds are scattered in thy breath.
Thou sitt'st on high, and measur'st destinies,
And days, and months, and wide revolving years:
And dost according to thy holy will;
And none can stay thy hand; and none withhold
Thy glory; for in judgment, thou, as well
As mercy, art exalted; day and night,
Past, present, future, magnify thy name:
Thy works all praise thee; all thy angels praise:
Thy saints adore, and on thy altars burn
The fragrant incense of perpetual love :
They praise thee now; their hearts, their voices praise,
And swell the rapture of the glorious song.
Harp! lift thy voice on high! shout, angels, shout!
And loudest, ye redeemed! glory to God,
And to the Lamb, who bought us with his blood,
From every kindred, nation, people, tongue,
And washed, and sanctified, and saved our souls;
And gave us robes of linen pure, and crowns
Of life, and made us kings and priests to God.
Shout back to ancient Time! Sing loud, and wave
Your palms of triumph! Sing, Where is thy sting,
O Death? where is thy victory, O Grave?
Thanks be to God, eternal thanks, who gave
Us victory through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Harp, lift thy voice on high! shout, angels, shout!
And loudest, ye redeemed! glory to God,
And to the Lamb—all glory and all praise;
All glory and all praise at morn and even,
That come and go eternally and find
Us happy still and thee for ever blest.
Glory to God, and to the Lamb! Amen.
For ever, and evermore.
SONG OF THE SPIRIT OF MUSIC.
INE is the lay that lightly floats,
And mine are the murmuring, dying notes,
That fall as soft as snow on the sea,
And melt in the heart as instantly!
And the passionate strain that, deeply going,
Refines the bosom it trembles through,
As the musk-wind, over the water blowing,
Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too!
Mine is the charm whose mystic sway
The spirits of past delight obey;—
Let but the tuneful talisman sound,
And they come like genii hovering round.
And mine is the gentle song that bears,
From soul to soul, the wishes of love,
As a bird that wafts through genial airs
The cinnamon seed from grove to grove.*
'Tis I that mingle in sweet measure
The past, the present, the future of pleasure;
* "The Pompadour pigeon is the species, which, by carrying the fruit of the cinnamon to different places, is a great disseminator of this valuable tree." See BROWN'S ILLUSTR. TAB. 19.
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