POETICAL RECREATIONS. POETICAL RECREATIONS, BY GAMMA, ' . . . . laborum Dulce lenimen." HOR. Cann. i. 37. GLASGOW: FEINTED BY W. G. BLACKIE & CO. 1870. LOAN STACK Li 7 PEEFACE. THESE "Poetical Kecreations," as, for the want of a better title, the author has chosen to style them, are the result of leisure moments in the midst of other and more important avocations. They are a selection of what have appeared, as they were com- posed, in one or other of our local periodicals, wherein it was expected their ephemeral existence would have terminated. And now it is only in consequence of the continued solicitation of many friends that in their present shape and under the same nom de plume they are again put into type. Some VI PREFACE. of them should have an apology attached to them, inasmuch as they were got up in the deshabille of fireside familiarity, and are of a paterfamilias character. The little volume then is not for publication, but for the friendly use of those who are disposed to look upon what is written not with an eye of criticism, but with a kindly regard to the great truths embodied; and if in any shape in these productions the aim has been successful to advance the cause of righteous- ness, the result will be not only gratifying but thankworthy. N.B. The profits, if any, derived as above, to be appropriated solely to useful local purposes. MANSE OF , August, 1870. CONTENTS. PAGE ALLAN WATER, 1 COMBAT OF THE HORATII AND CURIATII, . 17 SOLUTION OF MARTIAL ENIGMA, . . .25 ST. MAGNUS, 30 ORCADIA, 34 THE WRECK OF THE "KOYAL CHARTER," . 48 PALINGENESIA, 54 CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES, 62 ODE FOR THE HARVEST TIME, . . . .67 THE EUINED SANCTUARY, 70 THE APPROACH OF THE CHANNEL FLEET, . 75 WRECK OF A KUSSIAN SHIP, . . . .78 THE Two BURIALS, 81 MAY, 87 AUTUMN THOUGHTS, 91 SACRED NARRATIVE: THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES, . . 95 THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH TRIAL OF ABRAHAM, 104 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE THE STORM ON THE SEA OF GALILEE, . .110 JESUS ON THE SEA or GALILEE, . . .115 THE HAPPY MEETING, 121 PETER DELIVERED FROM PRISON, . . .125 OF A DOMESTIC CHARACTER: THE CHRISTMAS Box, 130 GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA (i.), . . . .137 GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA (IL), . . . .141 GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA (m.), .... 145 POETICAL ENIGMA, 149 ACROSTIC TO A YOUNG LADY, . . .152 MISCELLANEOUS : THE LIGHTHOUSE, . . . . . .153 THE PILGRIM, 157 To A LITTLE CAPTIVE BIRD JUST CAGED, . 159 THE APPROACH OF SPRING, . . . .163 To THE TRUNK OF A TREE EXCAVATED FROM THE Moss, 167 POETICAL RECREATIONS, 'I envy thy stream as it glides along Through its beautiful links in a trance of song." BRYANT. WHILE the glowing sun is high, Let me court the cooling shade, Where the waters rolling by Wander through the forest glade. "Allan Water/' famed in song, Let me roam your banks along, Shun the world with all its glare, Art and tinsel everywhere, ALLAN WATER. And within this woody dell, Stream and rock and flower and tree For my goodly company, With sweet Nature let me dwell: Taste of sweets without alloy, Where beneath the summer sky Every living thing has joy, And all sound is melody. II. Soft the murmur of the breeze 'Mong the "tall ancestral trees," 1 Where lull'd winds their wild harp bring, And ^olian dirges sing. Gush of music evermore From the warblers as they soar, Or disport upon the spray, Cheerily the livelong day. 1 Kippenross. ALLAN WATER. The carol of the lark on high, The blackbird's and the linnet's song, The thrush's thrilling roundelay, The cheerful harmony prolong. Sweet to list each tiny rill Trickling from its rock or hill, And the gentle streams that flow To the wider stream below And the rush of waterfall Sounding through the rocky hall With the river rolling on In its ever-varying tone, All a wild and wondrous choir! When the tenors soft and sweet With the crashing echoes meet, Swells as with seraphic fire, In melodious symphony, Nature's richest minstrelsy. ALLAN WATER. III. Feast alike for eye and ear, Charm'd the vision halts to view; Countless forms of beauty near, And of ev'ry shade and hue! A thousand blossoms bright and sweet, Breathing forth their incense meet, Banks o'erhung with birk and brier, That fringe and kiss the waters clear; Bosky mead and dewy green, Spangled with the golden sheen Of bud and flow'r, with odours rare Scenting all the summer air. IV. A waving forest overhead, With dense and diverse foliage spread; ALLAN WATER. Sturdy oak and lofty pine, Elm and ash that am'rous twine Their branches green, and twilight throw On all the genial noon below Where truant footsteps 'neath the shade Have many a mazy pathway made, And Nature's hand of old had piled The rocky cave and grotto wild A weird and wild'ring scene withal, For mystic fays or fairy hall, Where Superstition gray might dwell, Or hermit have his lonely cell! v. But now, upon the upland height Breaks the landscape on the sight! What rarest charms lit up the scene In glowing tints of gold and green, ALLAN WATER. The waters in their ample flow Wending through the vale below; Crag and cliff on either shore, In sylvan beauty feathered o'er; While on flow'ry bank and brae, Gleam stately hall and cottage gay, Village spire and solemn tower Springing from umbrageous bower. Yonder ancient fane sublime, Rising from the waves of time, In ruins gray, that seems to stand The sacred guardian of the strand. 1 And the distant castle crest, Like a warrior in his rest; 2 Rampart high and hoary keep, Bristling o'er the rocky steep 'Mid fields and floods that once were rife With battle-cry and feudal strife 1 Dunblane Cathedral. 2 Stirling Castle. ALLAN WATER. Scenes of old heroic story, Rich in summer's peaceful glory. Then stretching to the west afar, Girding all the classic land, With many a mingled crag and scaur, Rise the azure mountains grand Hill and rock and tower and tree, Woodland grove in verdant pride, The silver shining waters free, Flowing through the valley wide All bathed in floods of living light, Was ever scene so fair and bright? THE VOICES OF THE WATERS. VI. Now let "divine philosophy" Her own teachings wise supply, ALLAN WATER. Through this sweetly winding stream, Flowing like a fairy dream To our stirring thoughts appealing, Many-coloured life revealing; In its ever- varying roll, Speaking to the pensive soul Speaking in its ceaseless chime, Lessons of the " course of time." Now sparkling, leaping in its play, As it wins its onward way, 'Neath the hazel shadows stealing, Eound the reedy borders wheeling, Glowing in the summer beam A laughing, sporting, playful stream. Or then again in placid rest, . Scarce a dimple on its breast, Like sleep of childhood in its smile Steeped in dazzling dreams the while, Glassing in the waters blue, ALLAN WATER. All things beautiful and true. Sweet visions all of rosy bowers, Echoes of the golden hours, Sounding clear and soft and bright O'er our dark and wintry night, When the heart, all fresh and free, RevelTd in unbroken glee Knew not yet the name of woe Nor had ruffle in its flow Like sunshine through the surly blast Come these glimpses of the past, Or sweetest strains long pass'd away, That still around the bosom play. Days of our brief and early time, That yet have left their soothing chime, Our life's "young dream" recalled in vain, Never to return again ! 10 ALLAN WATER. VII. Another voice there is a change! The stream hath sought a wider range, As though charged with a will Some commission to fulfil; And so with fuller denser force Come the waters in their course, While the wavelets quickly spread O'er the stony pebbly bed And the shower of their spray Dances over bank and brae Chafing now from side to side, A fretting, brawling, troubled tide. Ah! no more the sunny gleam Of halcyon days, but the stream Or current of our busy life, In its fast maturing stage Of gathering cares and growing strife, Crowding on our riper age ALLAN WATER. 11 Restless aims and toiling years, Fev'rish hopes and jealous fears; Joy a blessing but in store, Or to gladden nevermore. VIII. Louder still and more profound, The voice that gathers in the sound Of rolling waters as they gain, And swelling, rushing, onward go In their battling foamy flow, Like the billows of the main. 'Tis a tumult fierce and loud, As the torrents crush and crowd When the beetling crags impede, And the mountain streamlets feed The growing flood, and the war Of elements pours forth afar 12 ALLAN WATEH. Till over toppling heights they leap Down into the boiling deep, From amid the tumults roar, Eushing to the farther shore! So the conflict and the feud, For the glory or the good Of a being vain and brief As the forest's fading leaf Wild Ambition's headlong chase For wealth, for honour, and for place! Pleasure in its mad career; Folly deaf to shame or fear; Avarice in thirst of gold, To every lawless purpose bold: Valour for the bubble Fame Bleeding with a hero's name Hosts before the cannon's breath, Eushing to the arms of death! All a surging seething tide, ALLAN WATER. 13 A war of passion and of pride, When each would seize in Virtue's guise The shadow of a gainless prize, Evanished in that ocean vast That gulfs the present and the past. Happy they who find retreat From the struggle and the heat Of a noisy world's debate, Its jostling, crowding rivalry, Its envy, and its love and hate, Its guilty joys and revelry, Its vain applause, its pomp and state, Its "circumstance" and pageantry. IX. And so passeth on the river From the fountain to the sea, Halting never, changing ever, A living, speaking history 14 ALLAN WATER. Telling in its onward flowing How the course of things is going; Now in narrow channel bound, Then in wide expansion found Now in shadow, now in light, A troubled stream or current bright, A rush of mingled joys and woes, Of cares and perils to its close; And while the waves are swept and gone, Still doubling floods are rolling on Rolling to the ocean shore, Their journeying to retrace no more. So generations pass and go, While the busy world remains Life itself a pageant show, In its glory or its stains, ALLAN WATER. 15 Is but a "rapid" rolling by Into a vast eternity! Yet we may take the better way, And secure the true remede, If not to make the moments stay, To make them worthy of our deed. Let others choose the river's force, And others still another course, Be ours the stream that gently flows, Nor idly rippling in the vale, Murmuring a useless tale, Irrigating as it goes: While the music of its roll Shall whisper peace to weary soul Through the groves sequestered, calm, By the shadows softly gliding And by gift of faith abiding, Content without the earthly palm, 16 ALLAN WATER. To enjoy or to endure So let life's tide serene and pure, Run on until it mingle may With the streams of endless day. Cmnfrat of % |p 0ratii anfr Curiatih Liv. I. 23. In the course of the war between the Romans and Albans, a proposal was made and agreed to, that the struggle between the two kingdoms should be decided by a species of single combat. Tor this purpose, it having been well known that there were three twin brothers in each army, peculiarly distinguished for their strength and bravery, it was resolved that to them should be committed the final contest; while it was understood and arranged that the party whose champions were defeated should yield allegi- ance to the other. The Roman youths were named Horatii, and the Albans Curiatii. "Funditur ater ubique cruor; dant funera ferro Certaiites, pulchramque petunt per vulnera mortem." VIRG. THE armies met encamp'd upon the plain, And mutual fears their anxious thoughts detain ; As front to front they stand intent to wait In dread uncertainty the battle's fate 18 THE COMBAT OF THE Glory and triumph, empire and bright renown Are spoils that wait the conquering state to crown While humbling vass'lage and submission meet Are the baseu purchase of the foul defeat! Such high resolves the youthful warriors nerve, Their country's honour and her weal to serve, That for themselves they reck nor blood nor life, Be victory theirs the issue of the strife. And now the rival hosts assay to fill Their chosen champions with intrepid zeal "The gods, their kindred, and their country's cause, Their fellow-citizens, yea, their home and laws HORATII AND CURIATII. 19 Their friends and brethren, what may ere afford Fire to the patriot and the patriot's sword, In silent awe regard the dread affray, And watch the signal crisis of the day ! " To glory bent, while plaudits peal around, They forth advance to the allotted ground In gallant crest, and glittering arms array'd, And noble daring, each a host display'd! The signal sounds! they rush upon the field And loud the clangour rings of sword and shield. As adverse armies meet the shock of war, While pours the furious onset from afar, So met the youths, impetuous foe to foe A nation's prowess in their single blow 20 THE COMBAT OF THE Now fear and doubt and hope by turns command, Fast as the thrust of each uplifted brand And you might fancy each suspended breath The struggling arbiter of life and death! "The combat deepens!" and the sight and sound Of helm and spear, the fall, the bloody wound, The fainting warrior, and the flashing blade, To sense and heart a thrilling horror made They thrust, they grapple, and alternate run, When now the Albans shout, "The battle's won!" That instant, sudden on th' ensanguined plain The Alban swords had stretched two Romans slain ! HORATII AND CURIATII. 21 A deadly omen of the warfare's tide With only one the struggle to decide. "The day is lost!" each dreading soldier said, And boding sounds the Roman camp per- vade But yet unharmed by wound or scar was he; Not so, the fortune of the Alban three And tho' unequal to the triple band, Yet more than equal to each single hand So to divide and scatter them he tries, And feigning terror from the field he flies. Successful guile! for faintly they pursue, And wide apart, the conflict to renew And now with lively hope our hero turned, And quickly on his nearest foe returned. They meet, they strive, but soon th' un- equal fight Gave sure decision to the Roman's might THE COMBAT OF THE He slew, and ere the third could aid afford, The second fell by his victorious sword! Then cheered the Romans, while the Alban host By grief and shame are now alternate cross'd Whereat the victor, bold with pride elate, Hastened his triple conquest to complete. Wearied and wounded 'mid the war's alarm, Scarce could Curatius raise his nerveless arm Short was the fight! "Go/' said the victor, "now Follow thy brothers, to the shades below, Die thus, and let thy life-blood loudly say, That Albans henceforth stoop to Roman sway." HORATII AND CURIATII. 23 He raised his hand on high, and at the word Deep in his bosom plung'd the fatal sword Then spoil'd his victim as he prostrate lay To grace the public triumphs of the day. The strife is o'er, and loud the ranks resound With gladd'ning shouts "Rome is with victory crown'd!" They hail their hero and proclaim his name, " Horatius, champion of the Roman fame 1" And last sad task ! with many a mingl'd tear, Tombs to the brave who fell they duly rear But difFrent thought, as reverently they pay The sacred tribute, and the rite obey 24 THE HORATII AND CURIATII. Since joy pervades the victors of the field, And sore chagrin have they who homage yield. Where each upon the plain lay cold and dead, They form the dauntless soldier's gory bed; And honours bright reserve they for the slain Who fought for glory, nor had died in vain. Sepulchral trophies mark the hallow'd spot, Scene of a conflict ne'er to be forgot So shall these tombs to after-ages tell, " Here lie the patriots who for freedom fell!" 0f partial (Pragma. HAVELOCK. A gallery of Portraits here we have, Some shadowy pictures of the great and brave ! Clearing the canvas of its dusty mould, We plainly their identity unfold, And trace the features of these men of might, As though in very form of life and light ! H First, Punic HANNIBAL ! whose conquer- ing sway Made Alpine rocks and cliffs to melt away : True to his altar oath, old Rome's dread foe. A Next have we mighty ALEXANDER, who 26 SOLUTION OF MARTIAL ENIGMA. "Bestrode the world/' yea made that world his toy, And, all his triumphs o'er, wept like a boy! V And now we've good VESPASIAN, virtuous sire Of Titus, Heaven-ordained for vengeance dire On Judah's fated children. Then we mark E EDWARD of Cressy in his armour dark, England's heroic prince; and then the bold, L The brave LEONIDAS, whose story's told In every age, in many a poet's lay, And lives in thee, grand Thermopylae ! And there art thou, old OLIVER, grim knave ! Whose foulest stain's a royal martyr's grave; SOLUTION OF MARTIAL ENIGMA. 27 Though some there be that laud thy name and deed, Justice must give thee but a tyrant's meed. C And then great CAESAR [ that illustrious star That shone 'mid Rome's proud trophies wide and far: Ah ! let Ambition's children learn to fear Who look upon thy fall and bloody bier. Sarmatia's champion here too has a place > Alas ! in vain, best of the patriot race ; For "Hope," 'tis said, "bade to the world farewell, K And Freedom shrieked as KOSCIUSKO fell ! " Thus have we here, so plainly understood, The name of HAVELOCK, the great and good, That noble soldier ! o'er whose mortal dust There rises, better than "colossal bust," 28 SOLUTION OF MARTIAL ENIGMA. A kingdom's tribute to achievements high To triumphs of immortal chivalry ! That Christian warrior! whose zeal sublime Soared far beyond the victories of time Whose high behest it was with sword of steel To serve his God, and serve his country's weal. First ever in the walks of holy life ; First ever in the rush of battle's strife ; Behold at once, in beauteous union blent, The dauntless patriot and the lowly saint, Best, brightest model of all true renown, That gains the palm on earth, in heaven the crown, That twines the wreaths around the hero's name With sacred blossoms of eternal fame. Such glory's his, now 'mong the mighty dead, Whose deeds new lustre on our arms have shed, SOLUTION OF MARTIAL ENIGMA. 29 Gone, 'mid the plaudits of a nation's love To wear his laurels in the realms above ! Oh! that the honoured spirits of the brave, Who in the conflict's roar have found a grave, Would o'er our soldier sons their mantle throw, Would teach bold hearts with faith like theirs to glow, And oft, among all glorious names, evoke Crimean VICARS, Indian HAVELOCK ! Si A NEW YEAR'S-DAY'S MEDITATION. 'Time rolls his ceaseless course." SCOTT. HOAR temple of an age gone by, That through all dark vicissitude, While other glories fade and die, O'er buried centuries hast stood, And still above the waves of time Uprear'st afar thy dome sublime! Type of a day and race obscure, Mute chronicler of cycles roll'd; 0, had thy stony lips the power, In living accents to unfold Thy history, since Art was young, And first thy pillar' d arches sprung; ST. MAGNUS. 31 What visions strange mightst thou disclose Of men and things their fashion, form Their deeds, and feuds, and feudal foes; What scenes of tumult and of storm, Of monk, and priest, and cloister'd cell, Of matins and of vesper bell. Methinks I see the pageant throng, In mitred pomp and stoled array, That went thy sacred courts along, With book and bead, now pass'd away; When holy anthems peal'd the while, And echoed through the "long-drawn aisle!" Vain show of rites! and blest, I ween, The day that saw a purer creed, That taught the arm of Faith to lean On One alone the "Crucified;" And made thy vaulted roof to ring With sounds of peace through Zion's King. 32 ST. MAGNUS. Ah! happy they who hear the voice Of Love and Truth, and judge aright; Who flee a world's delusive joys, Life's hours redeem, of rapid flight, Since Death at last sweeps all away; Ask of our fathers, "Where are they? Where are the gallant and the good? Where are the grave, the gay, the bold, God's messengers who pleading stood, And they who heard and learn 'd of old? Look round and see their funeral pall, The dust beneath entombs them all! What serveth all the giitt'ring crowd Of smiles and hopes this earth e'er gave? Save but as garlands for our shroud, Or blossoms fair to deck our grave! What all the joys of new-born year, A nearer prelude to the bier! ST. MAGNUS. 33 The clock strikes in yon time-worn tower; Soul, hear it as thy warning knell! Think of the goal, the final hour, The ended race, the last farewell; And seek thy recompense on high, Where thou shalt live and never die. A VISION. "Come bright improvement on the car of time." CAMPBELL. STERN region on the Pentland wave, That oft hath been the seaman's grave, The pirate's home That erst had own'd the Norseman's sway, Where beetling cliffs sport with the spray, And billows foam! Where chief among the mountain band, As giant guardian of the strand, Bleak Hoy uprears His hoary scalp in misty hood, Above the surges of the flood Of thousand years. ORCADIA. 35 Land of the sea-girt group afar, Beneath the rigid northern star, Of ancient name Wild scenes of many a legend bold, Of relics mystic, grim, and old, Enrolled by Fame! Land of the stormy firth my theme! Well in the night I had a dream 'Bout these our isles, Revealed first in shades of gloom, And then in scenes that seem'd to loom In radiant smiles. The time was past, ere art and skill Had sought their mission to fulfil These coasts around Ere yet our fathers had been wise, And in the path of enterprise A footing found. 36 ORCADIA. I seem'd to travel, aye, and pass Through muir and dale and drear morass, From shore to shore On some strange errand, which begun, I keenly wished how soon 'twere done And toils were o'er. On every side I saw the land Crushed by Oppression's iron hand While woful Blight Spread its dread cov'ring over all, As with a dull and sombrous pall, Or shades of night. I saw the virtues of the good Trampl'd beneath Injustice rude And cease to rise; For Liberty was but a name, Amid Enslavement's want and shame, And many sighs. ORCADIA. 37 Less wonder, Desolation lent Its dreary sights where'er I went, A trackless way 'Mid lowering cloud of every form, 'Mid drizzling fog and driving storm, In fierce array. The plains a length en' d solitude The circling hills around the flood So bleakly grand And wild the look across the seas Of these our northern Cyclades, A rugged strand! No woodland shade refreshed the scene, No birds sang in the branches green: To the tired view, The desert all unending seem'd, And still above me hoarsely scream'd The wild sea-mew. 38 ORCADIA. The farmstead but a mailin' mean The kine a meagre herd and lean, The barnyard bare With but a patch of verdant mead, And but a starveling flock to need The shepherd's care. And amid all, that common ban That mars the brotherhood of man, Vain factious strife The jars that in Religion's name Put Love and Charity to shame, Were rank and rife. Such sights and sounds were sad and drear And well responsive might I hear The curlew's wail The hoarse waves as they foam and dash On ocean crags with hollow crash The howling gale. ORCADIA. 39 Loud peal' 50 THE WRECK OF That to the dreaming ear can make The sound of rolling seas Seem as the rippling of the brook, Or hum of summer bees. That wafts to "pleasant fields" afar, To "bonnie banks and braes," And knits with loving lips once more The friends of early days! What tho' the pleasing spell must break, And the ever-watchful eye Must turn but to the weary void Of boundless sea and sky? Still onward, onward, speeds the ship, Still steady blows the gale, 'Tis but another moonshine more And then old England, hail! THE ROYAL CHARTER. 51 'Twas even so one morning fair Unveil'd the wish'd-for land, They gaily greet its happy shores With lasting joy at hand! Ah! fond vain thought the storm is nigh! Dark clouds are gathering fast, And fierce the gusty howlings break Against the creaking mast. Anon the mountain billows rise, Loud rush the waters wild, And in the strife the trembling ship Reels like a feeble child. Hours pass'd, and still the tempest grew, Still furious ran the main, Grim horror spreads on every side, All help and hope are vain! 52 THE WKECK OF In vain the pilot's fearful care, In vain the anchor's stay, The deadly rock is near, and all Destruction's dread array! Then rose the cry of sad farewell, The voice of choking prayer; And far above the wrathful surge The shriek of wild despair ! 'Tis Death's dark hour! with fitful plunge, Amid the breakers' roar, The giant ship is rent in twain! One crash and all is o'er! Gray morn reveals the dismal scene In Moerfra's fatal bay, And the rude winds sigh their requiem, To the glory pass'd away ! THE ROYAL CHARTER. 53 Few, few remain, where many were, 'Whelm'd in that night of doom, Parent and child friend, brother, all In one remorseless tomb! The lustrous spoils of the land of gold, The treasures of the mine, The wealth of kings, the gains of toil, There welter in the brine! And a thousand bleeding hearts bemoan The dead in the depths that lie; While sounds a voice 'mid the tumult wild, "BE STILL! AND KNOW 'TIS I!" "Death is swallow'd up in victory." OH! saddening sentence of an ancient date, That first distill'd the tear and drew the sigh- That weaves our being here with sorrows great, And echoes through the ages " Thou shalt die!" Thou spoiler of our homes, insatiate Grave! Like the dread Maelstrom's all-devouring wave, What myriad hosts sink in thy shoreless sea, How hath a teeming world been gulf'd in thee! PALINGENESIA. 55 In these grim relics of thy ruthless power, Gaunt spectral visions seem to flit and gleam Prophetic of the shroud and final hour, And dismal close of this our chequered dream; When we who live our busy anxious day, Like dew-drops on the green shall pass away The sire and youth the bridegroom and his bride, The sons of penury and the sons of pride. See yonder skull amid the tangl'd mould! Perhaps of genius once the favour'd seat, The mansion and the throne of prowess bold, That claim'd a world's applause and homage meet! 56 PALINGENESIA. Or cheek of beauty mayhap it had been! That shone in halls or glow'd at festive scene The fairest flow'r of all the lovely throng, The star of fashion and the theme of song. Or beggary may have own'd that humble dome! Poor child of want and hunger from his birth: That roam'd in rags, and never had a home, And died unheeded on the lap of earth. That fleshless arm may once a host have sway'd ! Those mould'ring limbs in works of love delay'd, And from these hollow sockets flash'd the light Of fervid eloquence or 'rapt delight. PALINGENESIA. 57 Where now hath gone the might of high emprise, Hope's sunny visions, glory's bright career? The triumphs of the great, the good, the wise, Serve but to gild the trappings of the bier! And " human face divine" and "wreathed smile," And love's warm glance, and friendship's glow erewhile, Turn'd each to ghastly sights that sense appal, Corruption vile, the worm's dread carnival! But hush, sad spirit! see that radiant form That rises from the horrors of the tomb! 'Tis Faith triumphant o'er the dark'ning storm, That lifts her voice of joy athwart the gloom : That tells of Him who came from realms on high, Veil'd in our human flesh to bleed and die, 58 PALINGENESIA. Fought the grim foe within his own domain, And bursting Death's dark cerements rose amain ! And in the victory of that blessed morn, Gave the sure presage of a life sublime; When breath eternal from the heavens borne, Shall breathe into these corrupt wrecks of time, Pervade the icy portals of the dead, Fan the cold cheek and kiss the lips of lead When each lone captive in his cell of clay Shall start the mighty summons to obey! When loud and shrill th' Archangel's trump shall sound In crashing echoes through the rocky caves PALINGENESIA. 59 Reach far into the hoary depths profound, 'Mong coral grottoes 'neath the ocean waves ; Rend the green mounds of the embattl'd plain, And rouse the buried cohorts of the slain, When through each sepulchre and grassy sod, Shall ring the voice of th" eternal God ! Awake, arise! 'tis done! the ransom'd host From mortal dust now forth immortal spring, In nobler mien than e'er was Fancy's boast, In rarer grace than e'er could poet sing! As when in sinless bliss the happy pair Saw mirror'd in the waters clear and fair Those images divine their Lord had giv'n, Meet for the kindred brotherhood of heav'n ! 60 PALINGENESIA. And now o'er genial earth there dawns to view Another Eden, lovelier than of yore ! From curse exempt, baptized with blessings new; Day ever beaming, night-cloud seen no more No wintry chill nor desert's frowning gloom; Where glory shines and flowers unfading bloom; Once Satan's seat of triumph and of chains, Now scene of victory where Emmanuel reigns. 0, beauteous world ! meet heav'n of holy rest! From sin and grief and graves for ever free PALINGENESIA. 61 With more than angel joys unending blest, Restor'd creation's grateful jubilee! Home of the pure and now untrammell'd soul, That soars on ceaseless wing, nor meets control Home of united hearts that ne'er shall sever, Home of unchanging love that burns for ever. Christmas " GRAVER THOUGHTS." AGAIN the rolling year Has brought old Christmas cheer; In many a cottage home, and stately hall, Are groups in jocund glee, Around the Christmas tree, Gathered in gay and joyous festival. Within the Yule fire's light Gleam faces glad and bright! Long-parted friends in loving union meet, And like the merry chimes, The voices of old times Echo the melody of music sweet. CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. 63 And fond thoughts wake and rise, And stirring memories, Of by-gone scenes and deeds of other days; The sire has smooth'd his brow, And youthful bosoms glow, And welkins ring with childhood's sportive lays ! Loud peals the circling jest And in each sunny breast The light laugh leaps no place for gnawing care! 'Tis Joy's own jubilee! And happy hearts are free, Her song and feast and garlands gay to share. Stay! there's a spirit sad, E'en when the heart is glad An undercurrent mars the genial flow 64 CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. As chords of sweetest sound Wake to rapture profound, And vibrate melting tones of deepest woe. Ah! 'mid the dazzling spell Strikes not a boding knell, O'er radiant hours like these, that haply gleam Like suns through cloudy days, Or like the sheen that plays And sparkles on life's dark and troubled stream. Behind a placid sky Drear shadows hov'ring nigh, These happy hearths, and pageants fair and bright, As years successive change, Reverses stern and strange, All sweetest sunshine turned to clouds of night. CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. 65 Aye as we lift the veil, We list the oft-told tale Of broken hearts, of love and beauty flown, Of smiles and laughing eyes, Exchanged for tears and sighs! For blighted hopes and dear ones lost and gone. All things so blest of yore, That charm and cheer no more Earth's wasting ills and Time's fast-gathering rust, That level foe and friend, And seal their common end, In silent sepulchre and mouldering dust! Thus from our dream of joy, We wake to dread alloy; "Beat funeral marches to the" lonely "grave;" E 66 CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. In the gay festive hall Death hangs his dreary pall: O'er life's romance the grassy turf shall wave ! Strange fitful history, Brief scene of "vanity/' Where every sweet is charged with mortal sting, And every fairest charm Is but a vision's form, And pleasure's draught is from a tainted spring. Wouldst thou true life attain, Unmixed with sorrow's stain 0, weary traveller through this changeful vale, Seek th' eternal hills, Whence glide the crystal rills Those living streams of bliss that never fail. far % Jfmrfost Cime, Ye forests, bend ; ye harvests, wave to Him ; Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. THOMSON. WHILE autumn leaves are falling, O' And bleak winds sweep the plain, Glad voices now are calling, To reap the ripened grain. O'er fields and vales afar The harvest glories shine, And thankful hearts adore The miracle divine. 68 ODE FOR THE How o'er the teeming earth The great Creator's hand The golden sheaves lays forth, And blesses all the land. With full provisions spread, For hamlet, hut, and hall, The promised " daily bread," A benison for all ! To Him be praises meed, For gains of honest toil, Who stirr'd the latent seed, And roused the sluggish soil. Whose strange, mysterious power Disclosed the ear and blade, And all our valleys o'er With fruitage rich arrayed! HARVEST TIME. 69 Who, while his bow sublime Shall span the azure deep, In happy reaping time His covenant will keep. With Him then sweetly blend The joys of "Harvest-home," Great Maker, Father, Friend, From whom all blessings come. "How lovely is thy dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts, to me." Ps. Ixxxiv. THE golden tints of ebbing day Glanc'd on the peaceful scene Where once, tho' now in ruins gray, A holy House had been! On sloping banks of tufted ground, With many a stone and grassy mound, And aged elms their branches far that spread, As if to guard the graves, and sentinel the dead! THE RUINED SANCTUARY. 71 Dim shadowy visions of the past! Stood roofless wall and tow'r The wrecks of Desolation's blast, And Time's destroying pow'r; While o'er each fragment, worn and rent, The ivy green, like Pity leant, Sheltering and shielding in its lone embrace The waste decay had made, but could not all efface. Yet' here, where now the wild flocks roam, And rankling weeds entwine, And where the night-bird has its home, Did holy beauty shine! Where adders hiss, winds rave and sigh, Once swell'd the rites of homage high! Where hoots the owl from yonder secret cell, Chimed forth the music sweet of holy Sabbath bell. 72 THE RUINED SANCTUARY. Borne on the breeze, the sacred call Convened the pious throng From hamlet-bowers, from hut and hall, They came these courts along; In melody of psalms, to raise The great Jehovah's awful praise To bend before His throne, and meekly bear Their offerings and wants, in voice of solemn prayer : To hear the message from on high! That wond'rous tale of love How guilty mortals, doom'd to die, May rise to life above! How He from glory came to save Who conquer'd death and spoil'd the grave ; And from whose cross of blood and groans and woe The streams of mercy freely and for ever flow. THE RUINED SANCTUARY. 73 When oft, as wakeful thoughts gave heed, Would start contrition's tear! And smitten hearts would inward bleed, As bleeds the stricken deer: While Faith, as came each promise fair, Assayed to soothe all guilty care, And trembling sinners learn'd with j oy to trace, Through cloudy skies, the shining of a Father's face. Here, many a babe, when vows were paid, To God was duly given; Here holy purposes were made, And covenants with Heaven: And high communion's 'rapt control Brought coming glories o'er the soul! As soars the eagle in its upward flight, Nearing the thrill'd spirit to its home of life and light. 74 THE RUINED SANCTUARY. Blest sainted ones, from starry seat, Behold the "trysting place," Where oft they met, 0, memory sweet, A God of love and grace! Where on earth's desert, prone to stray, They sought and found "the only way" And Hope, bright star, that cheer'd the struggling breast, Led to the sunny land of everlasting rest. Then hallow' d be that timeworn shrine, All now in ruins hoar: Still be these grass-grown courts divine, Tho' glory shines no more! Tho' life be fled, and beauty gone, Save where the wild flower blooms alone, The living stirring actors of the scene Among the sleeping dead, beneath the burial green ! JfW. " Britannia needs no bulwarks, no towers along the steep, Her march is on the mountain wave, her home is on the deep." FAIR shines the morn, fresh blows the breeze, And proudly swells the wave, That wafts old England's armament, And bears her honoured brave; A gallant host with streamers gay, The mighty squadron's grand array! Like towering citadels afloat, Exulting o'er the tide, True " hearts of oak" with valiant crews, They come in all the pride And memory of triumphant war Of Nelson and of Trafalgar! 76 THE APPROACH OF Now booms the signal gun of joy From cliff and rocky shore; And Fort and Fleet and loud acclaim, Join in the deaf'ning roar Of welcome to the noble band, The guardians of our sea-girt land: Britannia's glorious bulwarks, To shield our Queen and Crown, To guard our homes and altar fires Our fathers', and our own; And in the heat of danger's hour, To quell the fierce invader's power. A thousand thunders from their sides Shall flash at Freedom's call; Before each onset of their might, A thousand foes shall fall, For sacred still shall be the strand, Of this our old heroic land! THE CHANNEL FLEET. 77 Now blessings on that peaceful cruise Around our sea-girt home, And ne'er may these our warrior ships On other errand roam; A bloodless triumph may it be To shield these islands of the free. Prompt to defend, may war's alarms Invade our hearths no more, And the "Star of Peace" for ever shine Above our happy shore! God save our arms, our flag, and fleet, And crown us with His blessing meet! iutk of n liussmtt Sjjip on % 0f " A brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creature in her, Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart ! Poor souls, they perish'd." SHAKSPEARE. SEE in yon hulk upon the beach, In shapeless fragments riven, Dreary wreck of an angry sea, And the wrathful blasts of heav'n, The gallant ship that yesterday Had bounded o'er the ocean spray! Oft had her jocund tars traversed The rude tumultuous main, And still would brave its waves, in spite Of storm and hurricane; WRECK OF A RUSSIAN SHIP. 79 Now lie they in the depths below, To point another tale of woe. That dismal scene ! it haunts me now I see the cruel rock! And mark the fierce and swooping "seas," That with convulsive shock, Shattered her massive beams asunder, That rent as with a crash of thunder! Ah me! no human arm could aid Her crew from deck and shroud Are whelm'd into the foaming brine; And o'er the tempest loud Was heard the seaman's drowning cry, His last faint shriek of agony And who shall paint the thousand thoughts That rush with parting breath, The ebbing of the sands of life, The awful sense of death! 80 WRECK OF A RUSSIAN SHIP. What images of home and love, What trembling pray'r to God above! Oh! did they find in such an hour Of sore dismay and fear When earthly hopes were rent and gone, That the Blessed one was near, Who quell'd the billows of the sea Of dark and stormy Galilee? And did they hear with their last sigh, That gentle voice, "Fear not, 'tis I." They sleep beside the green sea wave, On a wild and foreign shore Far from the bleeding hearts that mourn Their fitful voyage o'er. And such is life; an ocean strand, Strewn with the wrecks, on ev'ry hand, Of chequer'd joys that pass away Like glowing dreams at dawn of day. " Pallida Mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas regumque turres." HOR. DEATH found one victim in the Hall, A son of wealth and power, Whom idols vain had held in thrall, Darkening his dying hour; Another in the humble shed, A "brother of low degree," Whose lot was hard, but parting blest A child of God was he. The mourners bore the lordlv dead I In stately cavalcade, 82 THE TWO BURIALS. With scutcheon' d hearse and nodding plumes, And chariot pomp arrayed With solemn step and all the form And drapery of woe; While the death-bell from spire and tower Chimed mournfully and low. And now where yew and cypress bloom, They sadly, softly tread For awful 'tis to walk among Those dwellings of the dead, Where thousands sleep one lot for all The wise, the good, the great Hoar age and youth, the titled peer, The " beggar at his gate." And here, 'mid many a " storied urn/' A stately dome and fair, This son of earth had vainly rear'd, . His name and fame to bear. THE TWO BURIALS. 83 Oh! strange! a structure thus to raise For ashes and the worm, And leave the naked soul without A shelter from the storm! There with all solemn obsequies, They laid the human clay "Dust unto dust," to wait until The resurrection day. But look we to a change of scene! That "brother of low degree" Is borne within the churchyard green Sadly and silently. A meagre group they seem, and few, These sons of toil and care With scarce a ragged pall to hide That simple coffin, bare! Poor sordid rites! but honest grief Draws forth the briny tear 84 THE TWO BURIALS. And yearning hearts are with the dead Beneath that lowly bier. For him no mourning dirge has rung No stone shall mark his grave; Soon o'er his humble memory The grassy turf shall wave! Yet methought, above the "precious dust," Within that coffin bare, I saw the shade of a holy wing, As of an angel there! And I thought of the spirit that had flown Beyond the starry skies, And the bright band that wafted it To glorious Paradise! Those radiant bowers of rest and bliss, Where holy beauties shine, And where in spotless robe of white And diadem divine, THE TWO BURIALS. 85 They led him to his home of joy, While harps of sweetest sound, And songs of saints, the blest one haiM Now safe in glory found! Oh! vision sweet, that made me say " Of what delusive worth The bubbles vain that men pursue, The joys they court on earth!" And say of him laid low in death, Who made the world his god, " Sure better than thy cenotaph The poor man's grassy sod! Rich now is he! how poor art thou! Sad end of 'vanity;' Thy burial splendours ne'er can light A dark eternity!" Heav'n! grant thy wisdom and thy truth, Tlrf saving grace and love 86 THE TWO BURIALS. Teach how to live teach how to die, And rise to realms above! All other good what is it here? A phantom to betray! A flitting pageant to beguile, And steal the soul away! law. " Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose." MILTON. SWEET MAY all-cheering May! Loveliest of all the ever- vary ing train! Welcome thy fragrance and thy flowers again With bright and sunny ray, Thou com'st as by a new creation's birth To freshen and revive the weary Earth, That now in mantle green, Girt by her valleys and rejoicing hills, Her glassy lakes and clear meandering rills, Smiles o'er the joyous scene, 88 MAY. And, resonant through forest, field, and grove, Lists the glad voice of peace, and rest, and love. 'Tis Summer's rosy dawn, Clothing with beauty th' umbrageous trees, That murmur bliss and woo the cooling breeze Robing the dewy lawn; And heathery braes, each bosky mead and dell, Fringing all sunny nooks with bud and bell Wreathed in their floral bloom, A thousand blossoms in the gay parterre. As though the tints of Eden linger'd there, Exhale their rich perfume; And from the genial earth to cloudless skies A thousand mingled harmonies arise; MAY. 89 The whispering winds that sigh Their music wild ; the songs of birds that ring The lark's bright carol on his upward wing, The linnet's melody, The hum of bees, the flow of gliding streams, That gleam and sparkle like our youthful dreams. Sweet season of fair flowers! When gentle hands prepare the garland gay When Love and Joy the winged hours delay Among the leafy bowers; And brightest visions, like these flowerets, glow, And over all their radiant halo throw. Season of promise high, Whose bursting buds and softly-waving leaves Are germs of mellow fruits and golden sheaves Brown Autumn's rich supply ; 90 MAY. So clustering blessings wait the patient breast, And crown our ripened hope with blissful rest. Type of that hope sublime! For, like as from stern Winter's dreary reign. These vernal glories flourish green again; In burst of Orient clime From the dark tomb that sealed a thousand woes, The "resurrection and the life" arose. And in that pledge so bright, As standing here on Time's worn rugged shore, Life's journey past, our " fitful fever" o'er, We look beyond the night Of gloomy death to that unchanging day, That yet shall dawn one everlasting May. "Come months, come away From November to May, Follow the bier Of the dead cold year." SHELLY. Now hush'd the sounds of " Harvest joy/' The reaper's mirthful strain Wild winds sigh through the leafless trees, And dreary stretch the yellow leas, Where waved the golden grain. The wreaths that deck'd fair Nature's brow, Have droop'd in pale decay, Sweet flow'rs are gone, and beauty bright, While cloud, and storm, and sable night, Creep o'er the cheerful day! Adieu to songs of blithesome birds, To bowers and blossoms green, 92 AUTUMN THOUGHTS. For Winter comes with icy breath, To stamp as with the hues of death, The once all -joy OTIS scene. And so, as sweeps the chilling blast, Rise thoughts all sad and sere, That turn from Autumn's gathered sheaves To mourn o'er Summer's withered leaves, As fades the waning year: Telling of griefs and aching hearts, And sorrow's dark array, And joys that glow'd with sunny gleam, That, like the gilding of a dream, Have dimmed and pass'd away! Youth's blighted hopes, the woes of age, The thousand ills that fall, That take the strength from stalwart arm, And steal from beauty every charm, And crush arid conquer all; AUTUMN THOUGHTS. 93 That blanch the cheek and waste the frame, And fill the " narrow bed," That lay us mould'ring cold and low, With the dread sentence on our brow, Among the countless dead. Life's but a fading leaf a wave That breaks upon the shore An airy bubble on the tide A flower at morn in all its pride, At evening time no more! But stay! behold yon setting sun His lustrous parting shed! See through the clouds the golden beam, O'er hill, and vale, and rock, and stream, Such soft'ning radiance spread! So brightly ends that true career, Where faith and duty meet, 94 AUTUMN THOUGHTS. What matter when the sands have run, If then we hear the blest "well done!" Our guerdon all complete? Our better being but begins, As "dust to dust" we bend The hour that strikes our last of time, Precedes the first and joyous chime Of life that hath no end; Life that to double bliss shall rise, From out the graves' dark gloom, When, like as Spring, again shall call To slumb'ring earth, this mortal shall Put on immortal bloom! A brighter heritage awaits, When our brief span is o'er, W'here vernal blossoms fadeless shine, And all around the scene divine, Is glory evermore. SACRED NARRATIVE. antr mial 0f " So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." DEUT. xxxiv. 5, 6. ALONG the mountain-ridge the prophet held His solitary way Death had to meet him on the summit hoar; Nought could the sentence stay. Solemn his thoughts, and yet serene y/ithal, Oh! happy they whom Death cannot appal. God was his life and joy, his sure reward, And recompense on high; 96 SACRED NARRATIVE. A pilgrim nearing his eternal home Of blessed destiny; So now, all conflicts o'er, that tranquil breast Waits but the summons to untroubled rest. And yet again he paus'd, as from the heights His last fond looks he threw, And longed and lingered o'er the whitened tents, Now lessening to his view As crowding scenes of all the wondrous past Rush in while yet the sands of being last. Anon the spot is reached, the sacred spot, Where meekly he must bend, And where the God he served met him in love, His kind and faithful friend, Who spake and cheered with many a token bland, And showed him all the rich and lovely land, DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 97 Stretching afar in strath and glen and glade, In fair and fertile plain, In palm-tree forests waving in their might, Vales clad in golden grain; With Hermon hill, and Gilead's mountains dun, All sweetly glowing in the setting sun. Oh! sight productive of in tensest joy! What Faith, in ecstasy, Had dimly, darkly, faintly seen afar, Now looms to sense's eye; Yet sad, that, after weary march and moil, 'Twas not for him to tread that promised soil. Enough ! he saw the land of all his dreams And waking fancies there Portrayed in beauty's tints and noblest charms ; 'Twas Israel's Eden fair! Yet brief the glimpse for grander scenes above Were now to claim his vision and his love. X G 98 SACRED NARRATIVE. Death's knell had rung ! then deepest silence reigned; In earth and air no sound Disturbed the holy quietude all Nature looked As in arrest profound: Drew her dim veil athwart that landscape rare, As tho' " a life sublime " was ebbing there Ceased gushing song of warblers on the wing Scarce rippled on its way The tiny brook hushed every mountain breeze, Nor sought as wont, to play The aspen with its leaves drooped every flower So solemn, still, and sad that dying hour. The Lord of love and truth did not forsake His servant in his need, DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 99 Soothed his pale brow, sustained his fainting heart, Unto his prayer gave heed; And now already opened to his eyes A brighter Canaan Heaven's own paradise ! Yea, marvellous endearment! human lips Are pressed to lips divine ! And holy breathings of immortal life With mortal breath combine. The blessed God hath closed the house of clay, And kissed in love the happy soul away ! l Methinks I see a chosen holy band Convey that mighty one, Who had such sights of God and glory seen, And had such wonders done; 1 The words translated u according to the word of the Lord," literally signify, "upon the mouth of the Lord."" 100 SACRED NARRATIVE. And hear their anthem as they wing their flight, And reach the portals of the realms of light. Wide open spread the everlasting gates, And loud the shout of praise Of those bright hosts who joyous welcome give, In their divinest lays, To Him who more than earthly honours bore, And now with regal crown reigns evermore. Fit time " the song of Moses," great and good, Then to inaugurate; Ere yet the triumphs of "the Lamb" had made That harmony complete; Heaven's grand hosanna! how the echoes swell, 'As countless glowing lips such glory tell ! DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 101 " Precious the dust " of all God's faithful ones ! And he on Pisgah's brow That died a Prince beloved, such tribute claims, And rightful homage now Shall gild his name, and write his memory dear, With gleams of glory resting on his bier. In rites beyond all mortal sepulture, Paid to the mighty dead, With pomp and blazoned pageantry Around the lowly bed; And men and brethren yielding to their grief, As in the silent tomb they lay their chief. Not Israel, but God, a his bones shall keep;" Not Earth, but Heaven above, Shall honours fit prepare, or duly lend Last offices of love 102 SACRED NARRATIVE. Consign his ashes to their rocky cell, And "dust to dust" pronounce the last farewell ! Oh i passing strange wondrous, unparalleled, Was that funereal day Of gorgeous obsequies, that marshalled in Magnificent array Seraphic squadrons in their raiment white, That filled the air with streams of dazzling light. Amid these shining ranks we see him borne ! In lustrous chariot laid ; Cherubic wings angelic banners wave Above his honour'd head; The bells of heav'n sound forth their holy chime, As forth they go upon their march sublime ! DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 103 They bore him proudly to his resting-place, In Moab's lonely vale, No human eye to read, or tongue to tell, The strange mysterious tale; Yet not as other dead in grave he lies, Until the trump of God shall rend the skies. For him another triumph waits when He, The great incarnate One, Who came to save, shall stand on Tabor's hill, Resplendent as the sun; When with the prophet he shall witness bear To heaven's unfathomed love revealed there. THE 0f Jf aitfr CrisI 0f " Jehovah Jireh." WHAT glories once were thine, 0, lone Moriah, mountain blest of yore ! What triumphs all divine, Achieved and won upon thy summit hoar, Wreathed round that honoured name That shines for ever in the rolls of fame. See the "grey father" stand, On strangest, sternest, saddest mission bound : Awed by that dread command, With deed abhorrent fraught, and grief pro- found ! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH. 105 His dearest earthly all To give to deatli at great Jehovah's call ! His heart of love to close : With cruel knife and blood-stained hand to slay (0 heaviest of woes) His darling son, his pride, his hope, his stay ; Mysterious behest! Stirring fierce conflict in his aged breast. Nature with front of might Arose, and the fell purpose would have stayed; And urgent in the fight, A thousand rebel hosts the deed forbade: Yet, matchless Faith, to thee Were given the prowess and the victory : Meekly to bend and bear The tempest brooding over sky and sea, 106 SACRED NARRATIVE. Shall own the Ruler's care : The sovereign. God who sent such dark decree Shall hidden goodness prove, And vindicate His name of holy love, As in their wildest flow The billows bear the bark all fiercely driven, So in that hour of woe The godlike sire, held by the hand of Heaven, O'er sorrow's seething flood Uprises ready for the work of blood ! 'Twas anguish deep and dire, To hear the youth's unconscious surprise, "Behold the wood and fire! But where the fitting lamb for sacrifice ! " What horror to reply, That for that offering, even himself must die ! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH. 107 So strangely undismay'd, The willing victim taught his awful part, On the grim altar laid, Each quivering limb, while breaks the father's heart, With cord and thong he plies, And draws the bandage o'er his closing eyes. Then as he prostrate lay Though bold to do, yet tender, soft to feel, He kissed and turned away As shuddering still to touch that blade of steel. 'Tis done ! with choking breath, His hand hath grasp' d the scimitar of death ! " Strong in the Lord" the aim Had been too sure against that trembling breast, 108 SACRED NARRATIVE. But that there quickly came An arm invisible with sharp arrest, And a voice loud and clear That spake deliverance to the 'raptured ear. "Hold! hold! refrain thy hand The' deed is held as done, the offering pure, For that my dread command Thou heard'st, and fearest God, is now made sure So gifts are thine in store, Vast as the stars or sands on ocean's shore." 0, in that brightening sky, And these glad sounds, what heart-reviving change ! From speechless agony And from a scene of horror wild and strange, To living joys again The arm that served Jehovah would have slain ! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH. 109 First of the faithful he! And now, methinks, the golden harps were strung In joyous symphony, Of heaven's bright choir, that o'er such scene had hung, All worthy of the praise 01 angel hosts, and their seraphic lays. Blest pledge of heavenly love ! "Jehovah Jireh" now as then the sign Of succour from above To- each tried one, and this the voice divine "To death be faithful thou, And life's bright diadem shall gird thy brow." t0rnt on % $m of