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Grew dark to me,-'twas mine to shun
His early rising, noon-tide blaze: I sought the wood's untrodden ways,
And pac'd, with melancholy tread, The church-yard's solitary ways,
To hold communion with the dead.
Hark! 'twas a whisper from the tomb :
“Why, suff'rer, wilt thou ling'ring stay? Doth parent earth deny thee room,
Now all thy joys are pass'd away? Grief, disappointment, doubt, dismay,
Unhallow'd love, and rage severe, Disturb'd us thro' life's feverish day,
But cannot break our slumber here."
I've seen in heav'nly visions bright
Those seats where blessed spirits dwell; Eternal fields of living light,
Such as no mortal tongue may tell; And in the lowest depths of hell
I've listen'd to the hideous scream Of angels who did once rebel
And started from the fearful dream!
breast again? I frantic cried and breath'd a pray'r,
When darting swift across my brain
Distraction came—the fiend was there!
I ask'd of pitying heav'n to die;
Defied the bolt that thunder'd by.
I've thought that in a brittle bark
They bore me o'er the boundless deep,
On some lone shore, or rocky steep,
While the loud billows foam'd below;
An immortality of woe.
Would that the soul might sleep in dust,
And with her mortal part expireWhat! shall th’ Eternal prove unjust?
Vain, selfish, impotent desire ! For me suspend his dreadful ire ?
For me his sword of vengeance sheathe? My heart is wrung, my brain's on fire,
Hell opens, and I sink beneath !
Att. Be calm, for 'tis thy hour of death,
The conflict sad will soon be o'er~
Be calm, nor spend thy lab’ring breath
In ravings wild—a little more,
Seek Him whose pow'r alone can saveYes, while thou canst, thy sin deplore :
There's no repentance in the grave.
O listen to the Saviour's voice
-Son of adversity, draw near, And I will make thy heart rejoice,
And I will wipe each falling tear.. Art thou a penitent sincere ?
My promise, Sinner, sets thee free.-Then humbly hope; thy title's clear ;
The great atonement was for thee.
Pen. O Thou, before whose throne I kneel,
Accept, though late, repentance deep : Remorse hath touch'd this heart of steel,
These stubborn eyes have learn’d to weep. Cold death-like shiv'rings o’er me creep,
Strange phantoms swim before my sight; One pang, and then the last, long sleep;
But morn succeeds a moonless night!
Bear me above, ye heav'nly choir,
To where yon sounds celestial ring!
Hark! 'tis an angel strikes the lyre,
A sinner reconcil'd to sing !
What floods of glory meet my eyes !-
The Soul hath reach'd her native skies.
INSCRIPTION FOR AN ALBUM.
Haste thee hither, Sisters three,