Miriam's Song. Air-Avison. 73 "And Miriam, the Prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her, with timbrels and with dances."-Exod xv. 20. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave, How vain was their boasting!-The Lord hath but spoken, And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd-his people are free. Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord, Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? For the Lord hath look'd out from his pillar of glory,7 74 And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd-his people are free. Go, let me weep. Air-Stevenson. Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, Fall dark to earth, and never rise; In bright exhalement reach the skies. Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, When he who sheds them, inly feels Some lingering stain of early years Effac'd by every drop that steals. Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew More idly than the summer's wind, Come not, Oh Lord! Air-Haydn. Come not, Oh Lord! in the dread robe of splendour Thou wor'st on the Mount, in the day of thine ire; Come veil'd in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender, Which Mercy flings over thy features of fire! Lord! thou rememb’rest the night, when thy nation 75 So, when the dread clouds of anger enfold Thee, Were not the sinful Mary's tears. Air-Stevenson. Were not the sinful Mary's tears An offering worthy Heaven, She wept--and was forgiven ? When bringing every balmy sweet She o'er her Saviour's hallow'd feet And wip'd them with that golden hair Were not those sweets, so humbly shed- Thou, that hast slept in error's sleep, As down in the sunless retreats. Air-Haydn. As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion, Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee; Saint Augustine to his sister. Air-Moore. Oh fair! oh purest! be thou the dove Oh fair! oh purest! be like this dove. 86 The sacred pages of God's own book Oh fair! oh purest! be like the dove. |