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O'er all those wide-extended plains
FATHER ! thy wonders do not singly stand,
Nor far removed where feet have seldom strayed;
Around us ever lies the enchanted land, No chilling winds, or poisonous breath, In marvels rich to thine own sons displayed ; Can reach that healthful shore ;
In finding thee are all things round us found; Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, In losing thee are all things lost beside ; Are felt and feared no more.
Ears have we, but in vain strange voices sound;
And to our eyes the vision is denied ;
We wander in the country far remote,
Mid tombs and ruined piles in death to dwell; When shall I see my Father's face,
Or on the records of past greatness dote,
And for a buried soul the living sell ;
That ne'er returns us to the fields of light.
JONES VERY. Would here no longer stay : Though Jordan's waves around me roll, Fearless I'd launch away.
Charles Wesley. | THERE IS A LAND OF PURE DELIGHT.
There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign ;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain. O BEAUTEOUS God ! uncircumscribed treasure
There everlasting spring abides, Of an eternal pleasure !
And never-withering flowers; Thy throne is seated far
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green; To inherit
So to the Jews oid Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between.
To cross this narrow sea,
And linger shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away.
0, could we make our doubts remove, There the eye
Those gloomy doubts that rise, O'the chrysolite,
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes, -
Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,
Should fright us from the shore.
BEYOND these chilling winds and gloomy skies, Of life and blissfulness enroll,
Beyond death's cloudy portal,
JEREMY TAYLOR. | Where love becomes immortal ;
A land whose life is never dimmed by shade, i If they call me I am waiting,
Only waiting to obey.
Only waiting till the shadows
Are a little longer grown, We may not know how sweet its balmy air,
Only waiting till the glimmer How bright and fair its flowers ;
Of the day's last beam is flown. We may not hear the songs that echo there,
Then from out the gathered darkness, Through those enchanted bowers.
Holy, deathless stars shall rise,
By whose light my soul shall gladly
Tread its pathway to the skies.
That opes the gates elysian.
COME, Brother, turn with me from pining Unlocked by unseen fingers.
And all the inward ills that sin has wrought; And while they stand a moment half ajar, Come, send abroad a love for all who live, Gleams from the inner glory
And feel the deep content in turn they give. Stream brightly through the azure vault afar Kind wishes and good deeds, - they make not And half reveal the story.
They 'll home again, full laden, to thy door ; O land unknown! O land of love divine !
The streams of love flow back where they begin, Father, all-wise, eternal !
For springs of outward joys lie deep within.
Where dwell thy fellow-men. Shouldst thou besad,
More lonely for the past, thou then shalt hear “ONLY WAITING.”
The music of those waters running near;
And thy faint spirit drink the cooling stream, (A very aged man in an almshouse was asked what he was doing now. He replied, “Only waiting"]
And thine eye gladden with the playing beam
That now upon the water dances, now ONLY waiting till the shadows
Leaps up and dances in the hanging bough. Are a little longer grown,
Is it not lovely? Tell me, where doth dwell Only waiting till the glimmer
The power that wrought so beautiful a spell ? Of the day's last beam is flown ;
In thine own bosom, Brother ? Then as thine Till the night of earth is faded
Guard with a reverent fear this power divine. From the heart, once full of day;
And if, indeed, 't is not the outward state, Till the stars of heaven are breaking
But temper of the soul by which we rate
Sadness or joy, even let thy bosom move
With noble thoughts and wake thee into love, Have the last sheaf gathered home,
And let each feeling in thy breast be given For the summer time is faded,
An honest aim, which, sanctified by Heaven, And the autumn winds have come. And springing into act, new life imparts, Quickly, reapers ! gather quickly
Till beats thy frame as with a thousand hearts. The last ripe hours of my heart,
Sin clouds the mind's clear vision, For the bloom of life is withered,
Around the self-starved soul has spread a dearth. And I hasten to depart.
The earth is full of life ; the living Hand
Touched it with life ; and all its forms expand Only waiting till the angels.
With principles of being made to suit
Man's varied powers and raise him from the brute. At whose feet I long have lingered, And shall the earth of higher ends be full, — Weary, poor, and desolate.
Earth which thou tread'st, — and thy poor mind Even now I hear the footsteps,
be dull ? And their voices far away;
| Thou talk of life, with half thy soul asleep ?
RICHARD HENRY DANA.
Thou “living dead man,” let thy spirit leap Tell me, thou mighty deep,
Whose billows round me play, Through thy soul's shut-up mansion. Wouldst Know'st thou some favored spot, thou know
Some island far away,
The bliss for which he sighs, —
And friendship never dies?
“No." They make thy freedom, groveller, not thy thrall. Knock off the shackles which thy spirit bind
And thou, serenest moon, To dust and sense, and set at large the mind !
That, with such lovely face, Then move in sympathy with God's great whole,
Dost look upon the earth,
Asleep in night's embrace ;
Hast thou not seen some spot
May find a happier lot?
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe,
And a voice, sweet but sad, responded, "No."
Tell me, my secret soul,
0, tell me, Hope and Faith,
Is there no resting-place
From sorrow, sin, and death ?
Is there no happy spot
Where mortals may be blessed,
Where grief may find a balm,
And weariness a rest ?
Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortalsgiven,
Waved their bright wings, and whispered, But here, by this lone stream,
“Yes, in heaven !”
0, WHERE SHALL REST BE FOUND !
O, WHERE shall rest be found, -
Rest for the weary soul ?
'T were vain the ocean depths to sound, Are thine forever !
Or pierce to either pole.
But who, I ask thee, who art thou ? Tell me thy name, and tell me now.
In vain thou strugglest to get free;
I never will unloose my hold : Art thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of thy love unfold; Wrestling, I will not let thee go Till I thy name, thy nature know.
What blessings thy free bounty gives
Let me not cast away;
To enjoy is to obey.
Thy goodness let me bound,
When thousand worlds are round : Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Presume thy bolts to throw,
On each I judge thy foe.
Still in the right to stay ;
To find that better way!
Wilt thou not yet to me reveal
Thy new, unutterable name ? Tell me, I still beseech thee, tell;
To know it now resolved I am ; Wrestling, I will not let thee go Till I thy name, thy nature know.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent, At aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.
What though my shrinking flesh complain
And murmur to contend so long, I rise superior to my pain ;
When I am weak, then am I strong! And when my all of strength shall fail, I shall with the God-man prevail.
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me. Mean though I am, not wholly so,
Since quickened by thy breath ; 0, lead me wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death!
SECOND PART. YIELD to me now, for I am weak,
But confident in self-despair ; Speak to my heart, in blessings speak;
Be conquered by my instant prayer; Speak, or thou never hence shalt move, And tell me if thy name be Love. ·
This day be bread and peace my lot ;
All else beneath the sun, Thou know'st if best bestowed or not,
And let thy will be done.
To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies ! One chorus let all Being raise !
All Nature's incense rise !
'Tis love ! 't is love! Thou diedst for me ;
I hear thy whisper in my heart;
Pure, universal love thou art ;
Unspeakable I now receive;
I see thee face to face and live !
I know thee, Saviour, who thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner's friend ; Nor wilt thou with the night depart,
But stay and love me to the end ; Thy mercies never shall remove; Thy nature and thy name is Love.
Whom still I hold, but cannot see ; My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with thee;
My sin and misery declare ;
The Sun of Righteousness on me
Hath rose, with healing in his wings; Withered my nature's strength ; from thee
My soul its life and succor brings ;