Графични страници
PDF файл

See the vile king his iron sceptre bear-
His only praise attends the pious * heir;
He, in whose soul the yirtues all conspire,
The best good son from the worst wicked sire.
And lo! in Hezekiah's golden reign,
Long exil'd piety returns again ;
Again in genuine purity she shines, (shrines.
And with her presence gilds the long-neglected
Ill-starr'd does proud Assyria's impious lordt
Bid Heav'n to arms, and vaunt his dreadful sword !
His own vain threats th' insulting king o'erthrow,
But breathe new courage on the gen'rous foe.
Th’ arenging angel, by divine command,
The fiery sword full-blazing in his hand,
Lean'd down from heaven: amid the storm herode,
March'd Pestilence before him ; as he trod,
Pale desolation bath'd his steps in blood.
Thick wrapt in night, through the proud host he

Dispensing death, and drove the furious blast;
Nor bade Destruction give her revels o'er
Till the gorg'd sword was drunk with human gore.
But what avails thee, pious prince, in vain
Thy sceptre rescu'd, and th’ Assyrian slain ?
E'en now the soul maintains her latest strife,
And death's chill grasp congeals the fount of life.
Yet see, kind Heaven renews thy brittle thread,
And rolls full fifteen summers o'er thy head ;
Lo! the receding Sun repeats his way,,
And, like thy life, prolongs the falling day.
Though nature her inverted course forego,
The day forget to rest, the time to flow,


+ Sennacherib.

[ocr errors]

Yet shall Jehovah's servants stand secure,
His mercy fix'd, eternal shall endure:
On them her ever-healing rays shall shine;
More mild and bright, and sure, O Sun! than thine.

At length the long-expected Prince behold,
The last good King; in ancient days foretold,
When Bethel's altar spoke his future fame,
Rent to its base, at good Josiah's name.
Blest happy prince ! o'er whose lamented urn,
In plaintive song, all Judah's daughters mourn;
For whom sad Sion's softest sorrow flows,
And Jeremiah pours his sweet melodious woes.

But now fallen Sion, once the fair and great, Sits deep in dust, abandon'd, desolate: Bleeds her sad heart, and ever stream her eyes, And anguish tears her with convulsive sighs. The mournful captive spreads her hands in vain, Her hands, that rankle with the servile chain ; Till he*, great chief, in Heav'n's appointed time, Leads back her children to their native clime. Fair Liberty revives with all her joys, And bids her envied walls securely rise. And thou, great hallow'd dome, in ruin spread, Again shall lift sublime thy sacred head. But, ah! with weeping eyes, the ancients view A faint resemblance of the old in you. No more th' effulgent glory of thy God Speaks awful answers from the mystic cloud; No more thine altars blaze with fire divine; And Heaven has left thy solitary shrine. Yet in thy courts, hereafter shalt thou see, Presence immediate of the Deity,

(thee. The Light himself reveal'd, the God confess'd in

* Zerobabel.

And now at length the fated term of years The world's Desire have brought, and lo! the God

appears. The heavenly Babe the Virgin Mother bears, And her fond looks confess'd the parent's cares ; The pleasing burden on her breast she lays, Hangs o'er her charms, and with a smile surveys : The infant smiles, to her fond bosom prest, And wantons, sportive, on the mother's breast. A radiant glory speaks him all divine, And in the child the beams of godhead shine. But now, alas! far other views disclose The blackest comprehensive scene of woes. See where man's voluntary sacrifice Bows his meek head, and God eternal dies ! Fix'd to the cross his healing arms are bound, While copious mercy streams from ev'ry wound. Mark the blood-drops that life exhausting roll, And the strong pang that rends the stubborn soul, As all death's tortures, with severe delay, Exult and riot in the noblest prey ! And canst thou, stupid man, those sorrows see, Nor share the anguish which he bears for thee? Thy sin, for which his sacred flesh is torn, Points ev'ry nail, and sharpens ev'ry thorn. Canst thou?_while nature smarts in ev'ry wound, And each pang cleaves the sympathetic ground ! Lo! the black Sun, his chariot backward driven, Blots out the day, and perishes from Heav'n! Earth, trembling from her entrails, bears a part; And the rent rock upbraids man's stubborn heart, The yawning grave reveals his gloomy reign, And the cold clay-clad dead start into life again.

[ocr errors]

And thou, O tomb, once more shalt wide display
Thy satiate jaws, and give up all thy prey.
Thou, groaning Earth, shalt heave, absorpt in flame,
As the last pangs convulse thy lab’ring frame;
When the same God unshrouded thou shalt see,
Wrapt in full blaze of pow'r and majesty,
Ride on the clouds; whilst, as his chariot flies,
The bright effusion streams through all the skies.
Then shall the proud dissolving mountains glow,
And yielding rocks in fiery rivers flow:
The molten deluge round the globe shall roar,
And all man's arts and labour be no more.
Then shall the splendours of th' enliven'd glass
Sink undistinguish'd in the burning mass.
And oh! till earth and seas, and heaven decay,
Ne'er may that fair creation fade away; (spare,
May winds and storms those beauteous colours
Still may they bloom, as permanent as fair;
All the vain rage of wasting time repel,
And his tribunal see, whose cross they paint so well.



GREAT God, with wonder and with praise

On all thy works I look:
But still thy wisdom, power, and grace,

Shine brightest in thy book.
The stars that in their courses roll,

Have much instruction given;
But thy good word informs my soui

How I may climb to Heaven.

The fields provide me food, and show

The goodness of the Lord; But fruits of life and glory grow

In thy most holy word.

Here are my choicest treasures hid,

Here my best comfort lies ; Here my

desires are satisfied, And hence my hopes arise.

Lord! make me understand thy law;

Show what my thoughts have been: And from thy gospel let me draw

Pardon for all my sin.

Here would I learn how Christ had died

To save my soul from Hell: Not all the books on Earth beside

Such heavenly wonders tell.

Then let me love my Bible more,

And take a fresh delight
By day to read these wonders o'er,
And meditate by night.




God never meant, that man should scale the

Heav'ns By strides of human wisdom, in his works, Though wondrous: he commands us in his word

« ПредишнаНапред »