Shall loose the golden bowl,
Remember thy Creator Lord
With overflowing soul:
For dust to dust must mingle then,
And Earth its earth shall claim,
And thy free spirit flit again
To God, from whom it came.
* * * * *
CHRISTMAS.
Written in 1830.
1.
Hark, through the skies the glad anthem is ringing,
The glory effulgent of heaven is shown;
Angels of light the loud chorus are singing,
Jehovah’s dear son the Messiah, to own.
2.
Lo, the rude Shepherds their flocks while attending,
And wearied of watching, are startled with fright;
For see a bright angel—in clouds is descending,
While darkness gives place to a heavenly light!
3.
And hearken the message—good tidings I bring!
The Saviour long promised in Juda, is born;
Oh hasten to greet him, and worship your king,
Ere burst o’er the mountains, the beams of the morn.
4.
And sudden, all heaven with melody fired,
In rapt adoration the chorus prolong:
And cherub, and seraph with rapture inspired,
The glad allelluia attune in their song:
5.
To God in the Highest all glory be given;
And peace be to men of good-will upon earth,
For down his Redeemer is stooping from heaven,
Rejoice all ye lands—’tis the morn of his birth.
* * * * *
OH WOULD I WERE HAPPY.
1833.
1.
Oh would I were happy! If wealth can but buy
The favour of heaven, and peace from on high,
My riches I’ll give to the helpless and poor,
And load him with kindness, that begs at my door;
The widow and orphan my bounty shall share,
And all the afflicted partake of my care.
2.
Oh would I were happy! the sorrows and cares,
Which each new-born hour to my troubled heart bears,
Disgust me with all the gay pleasures of earth,
And weary me with its vain-glory and mirth;
If penance can wash out my guiltiness deep,
In sackcloth and ashes my crimes I will weep.
3.
But hearken! what voice is it falls on mine ear!
How gracious the message, the tidings how dear;
’Tis the voice of the Saviour that promiseth rest,
To the children of sorrow in mercy addrest,
Oh hear and be happy, yes happy in truth,
’Twill solace thine age, and ’twill strengthen thy youth.
4.
Oh come to the waters! come taste of the wave,
The waters of life, ever potent to save!
Who drinks of this fountain, shall thirst never more:
It springeth within, till his journey is o’er;
Ho! each one that thirsteth; the lofty, the low,
Come all to the fount I have bidden to flow.
5.
Oh these are the tidings so sweet to mine ear;
My sorrows are vanished, my spirit is clear!
Mine alms are worth little; my labour is vain,
My penance, unable this peace to obtain;
The treasures of Ophir, too poor a reward,
To purchase this peace—’tis the gift of the Lord.
* * * * *
THE MIRAGE.
1833.
1.
Oft in the desert dreary
A stream, the pilgrim spies,
And joyous then, though weary,
He speedeth to the prize:
But onward as he goeth,
The stream, the shining stream
Is vanish’d, and he knoweth
’Twas but an idle dream.
2.
So pleasure, bright appearing,
Oft tempts frail man astray:
And off, with joy careering,
He runs his giddy way:
But ah too soon perceiveth,
How false she is, and vain:
Her painted face deceiveth,
And cheats us into pain.
3.
Oh pleasure! What is pleasure!
A phantom of the mind;
We seize it as a treasure,
’Tis emptiness we find:
The heart for pleasure sigheth,
But who hath pleasure known!
Ere it is born, it dieth;
Ere it is caught—’tis flown!
* * * * *
MEDITATION.
1833.
1.
When evening from the starry skies,
Its blessed dews doth send,
And all the landscape stilly lies,
Calm contemplation’s friend:
Oh, then when moonlight beams are shed,
And gales so quiet blow,
And when from heaven’s fountain-head
Such varied mercies flow;
2.
Dear Saviour, bending at thy throne,
’Tis then my prayer I pour,
’Tis then my sorrows all I own,
And weep while I adore:
’Tis then I know the starry skies
Will listen to my prayer,
Accept my spirit’s sacrifice,
And charm away despair.
* * * * *
LINES.
1833.
1.
As o’er the desert’s scorching sands
The Arah pilgrim strays,
And pants for green Idume’s lands,
Beneath the sultry rays:
2.
As he her spicy hills desires,
With flocks, and fruitage graced,
And onward hastens through the fires
That parch the dreary waste;
3.
So, pilgrim through Earth’s desert wild,
As fainting, and o’erspent,
Thou too art travelling, and exiled,
And in the noontide bent.
4.
Oh think not of the dismal earth,
But stretch thy longing eyes,
To hills, and homes of holy mirth,
That in the distance rise.
5.
Then take fresh courage to thy soul,
And onward speed thy way;
For there the living waters roll,
And there is endless day!
* * * * *
HYMN.
1834.
1.
Soldier, to the contest pressing,
Onward, let thy watchword be;
God upon thee pours his blessing;
What though man derideth thee!
2.
Onward, though the faggot’s burning,
By thy pathway’s only light:
Onward, death and danger spurning:
Onward in the path of right!
3.
God, for all thy wants providing,
Armor trusty hath for thee;
Gird thyself, in him confiding,
With the goodly panoply:
4.
Righteousness thy breast defending,
And thy feet with justice shod:
Onward; with the foe contending,
Wield thy sword, the word of God.
5.
Thine the helmet of salvation,
Faith thy mighty shield shall be;
And let prayer and supplication,
Lance, and glorious faulchion be:
6.
Still the standard o’er thee streaming
Be the banner pure, of love,
Where in glorious blazon beaming,
Float thy pinions, Holy Dove!
7.
Onward then, with bold contending,
In the path the martyrs trod:
God to thee his strength is lending;
Onward, in the strength of God.
* * * * *
HYMN.
1.
Oh, shine, my Redeemer,
My light o’er my way!
For faint is the pilgrim,
And lone, and astray.
No ray o’er the desert,
No light from afar,
Shine forth in thy glory,
Bright Bethlehem’s Star!
2.
Long blazed the fierce sunlight,
And toiling I went;
Now night falleth chilling,
My courage is spent:
These shadows of darkness,
How fearful they are!
Shine forth in thy glory,
Bright Bethlehem’s Star!
3.
’Tis said—and the midnight
Is breaking away:
See, soft through the shadows,
Pours mercy’s mild ray!
Now smileth the pilgrim
To greet thee from far;
All hail to thy glory,
Bright Bethlehem’s Star!
* * * * *
HOME MUSIC.
1.
Let Music lull thee, spirit mine,
And songs and harmonies divine,
When thou art sore distrest!
The viol and the tabret bring,
With lute and lyre of magic string
That charm the soul to rest,
And harps whose holy carolling
Becalms the breast.
2.
And let some angel shape be near,
With dewy lip, and voice as dear,
All loveliness and soul,
To wake the chords, and shed along
The joy of bosom-heaving song,
And music’s rippling roll;
While warbling their enchantment strong,
Soft flutes condole.
3.
Let music lull thee, spirit mine,
Sweet music, and the dear eyes shine,
Of gentle ones we love!
From Eden, when poor Eve was driven,
Sweet music by our God was given
With her the world to rove,
And lure her children back to Heaven,
Her home above!
* * * * *
TO ALL THAT’S GLORIOUS AND BRIGHT.
He hath made everything beautiful
in his time. _Eccles._ iii. 11.
1.
To all that’s glorious and bright
The poet vows his shell;
To youth, and beauty’s fair delight,
And fancy’s warmer spell:
The world of loveliness is his,
And his the summer’s bloom,
And his the wildwood’s harmonies,
And birds of faery plume.
2.
These lovely things, like him, must die!
They vanish while he sings;
And what has pleased the poet’s eye,
Must grieve his pensive strings.
And ever was his song—a tear,
A sigh for beauty fled:
And harps that woke to charm and cheer,
Must soon lament the dead!
3.
I’ve seen the loveliness I loved,
Like frailest flowers decay:
And while the Spring’s young joys I proved,
My spring-time passed away.
And boyhood’s mirth is but a name,
Ere boyhood’s tears are dried,
And hopes in golden hues that came,
Like golden dreams have died.
4.
And false thy promise, empty Earth,
I trust thy show no more;
I’ve learned of my immortal birth,
And spurn this stranger shore;
And Heaven, my home, my haven bright,
To Heaven be vowed my shell;
My soul to its inspiring light,
And fancy’s hallowed spell.
* * * * *
THERE IS A LAND.
And I said, O that I had wings like
a dove, then would I fly away and
be at rest! _Psalter._
1.
There is a land, like Eden fair,
But more than Eden blest;
The wicked cease from troubling there,
The weary are at rest.
2.
There is a land of calmest shore,
Where ceaseless summers smile,
And winds, like angel whispers, pour
Across the shining isle.
3.
There is a land of purest mirth,
Where healing waters glide;
And there the wearied child of Earth
Untroubled may abide.
4.
There is a land, where Sorrow’s sons,
Like ocean’s wrecks, are tossed;
But there revive those weeping ones,
And Life’s dull sea is crossed!
5.
There is a land, where small and great
Before the Lord appear,
The spoils of fortune, and of fate,
Whom Heaven alone can cheer.
6.
There is a land, where star-like shine
The pearls of Christ’s renown:
And gems, long buried in the mine,
Are jewels in his crown.
7.
There is a land, like Eden fair,
But more than Eden blest;
Oh! for a wing to waft me there,
To fly, and be at rest!
* * * * *
THE HEART’S SONG.
Behold I stand at the door.
1.
In the silent midnight watches,
List thy bosom-door;
How it knocketh—knocketh—knocketh,
Knocketh evermore!
Say not ’tis thy pulse’s beating,
’Tis thy heart of sin;
’Tis thy Saviour stands entreating,
Rise and let me in.
2.
Death comes down with equal footstep
To the hall and hut;
Think you Death will stand a-knocking
Where the door is shut!
Jesus waiteth—waiteth—waiteth;
But thy door is fast:
Griev’d, at length away he turneth;
Death breaks in at last!
3.
Then ’tis thine to stand entreating
Christ to let thee in;
At the door of Heaven beating,
Wailing for thy sin.
Nay, alas, thou foolish virgin,
Hast thou then forgot,
Jesus waited long to know thee,
But—he knows thee not!
* * * * *
LAMENT.
From the Latin of Mary Queen of Scots.
1.
Oh blessed, my Jesu,
I’ve trusted in thee;
Oh Saviour, my Jesu,
Now liberate me.
In horrible prison
And gloom have arisen,
My sighs, oh my Jesu, incessant to thee;
But, oh on my sorrow,
Has brightened no morrow,
Yet hear me, my Jesu, and liberate me.
2.
Oh blessed, my Jesu,
I’ve trusted in thee,
And still will I trust thee,
To liberate me.
And so, while I languish,
I cry in my anguish,
Adoring, imploring and bending the knee;
In sorrow and tremor,
Oh blessed Redeemer,
Smile on me from Heaven, and liberate me!
* * * * *
IN RADIANCE HE CAME.
And when Aaron and all the children of Israel
saw Moses, behold the skin of his face shone;
and they were afraid. _Exod._ xxxiv. 30.
1.
In radiance he came from the mount where he bowed,
To talk with the Lord in the veil of the cloud;
And light flashed before him, as trembling he trod,
From the mountain that quaked at the coming of God.
2.
’Twas Israel’s Prophet—oh breathe not his name,
Who talked with the Lord till his visage was flame;
Whose brow with the smile of Jehovah did glow,
And shone with the blaze of his glory below!
3.
Oh, bright as the mercy-seat dazzling afar,
He rose on the night of the vale like a star,
And dread was the sight to the recreant’s mirth,
Who praised his grim idol, while God was on earth.
4.
Then flew the swift shudder electric, of fear,
And stole the breath-whisper of guilt on the ear,
And the dancer was dumb at his orgies abhorr’d
And the renegade priest knew the friend of the Lord.
5.
And the virgins of Judah are lightsome of limb,
As they whirl round the Calf to a love-breathing hymn;
And the damsel’s swift heel hath a language that speaks,
And the hue of her heart flushes warm on her cheeks.
6.
A moment—and mute as the startled gazelle,
All wild is her eye—the dark eye of her spell!
And breaks the frail ring o’er the dance beaten sod,
Like flowers dropping pale from their garlanded god.
7.
So dazzling the beauty of holiness bright!
The glory of goodness—the wonderful light!
So, Lord, would I shine from my converse above,
So shed on the nations the light of thy love.
8.
And so from the mountains, the height of my prayer,
Where dwelling with thee, it was good to be there,
Grant, Lord, I may stoop to the valleys below,
With visage all radiant, and features that glow.
* * * * *
LAMENT OF THE VIRGINS.
And it was a custom in Israel, that the
daughters of Israel went yearly to lament
the daughter of Jephtha, the Gileadite,
four days in a year. _Judges_, xi. 40.
1.
Oh, of dance and song the pride,
Jephtha’s daughter, young and fair,
Never now the wreath of bride,
Ne’er the bridal veil shall wear!
Ne’er with cymbals light advancing,
Shall she greet her true love home,
Never in the valleys dancing,
Bound like Ocean’s purest foam.
Never shall she whisper—never,
Vows that bind the Hebrew maid;
Hers from all the world to sever,
Hers the hermit cell and shade.
2.
Oh, of song and dance the pride,
Jephtha’s daughter, young and fair;
She should be a hero’s bride,
She a hero son should bear.
But her fortune is another,
She shall ne’er love’s worship know;
Ne’er a babe shall call her mother,
Nestled on her breast of snow;
She hath gone from spring and fountain;
She hath vanished from the rills;
Lone she wanders on the mountain,
And her home is on the hills.
3.
Oh, of dance and song the pride,
Jephtha’s daughter, young and fair,
In the mount she must abide,
And her virgin vestments wear.
There her foot that bounded lightly,
Faint with maiden step shall go;
And her dance that was so sprightly,
To a pensive gliding grow.
She shall bend ’mid caverns praying,
Like a flower that trembles there,
While anear the wild fox baying,
Breaks alone the silent air.
4.
Oh, of song and dance the pride,
Jephtha’s daughter, young and fair;
Angels with her shall abide,
Angels smile upon her prayer.
Angels there shall be her lovers,
In such love as angels use;
While each wing that o’er her hovers,
Sheds around celestial dews;
Angels there, that cheer her sighing,
Shall her loneliness beguile,
And the wings that shade her dying,
Waft her to the happy isle.
5.
Oh, of dance and song the pride,
Jephtha’s daughter, young and fair;
Weep for her that doth abide
On the lonely mountain there.
Many flowers like her have perished
E’er their scented buds could ope;
But no flower was e’er so cherished,
Ne’er like her a hero’s hope.
Many maids have gone to slaughter,
But they ne’er so lovely were:
Weep, oh weep for Jephtha’s daughter,
Weep ye lovely, weep for her.
* * * * *
THE LAST PLAGUE OF EGYPT.
1.
Deep night o’er thy waters, thou dark-rolling Nile,
And the Hebrew sleeps trembling, his lord with a smile,
For a voice comes in dreams to the children of God:
But the proud have no whisper that Death is abroad!
2.
So, nestled in rocks, when the whirlwind is nigh,
They hear its far coming—the birds of the sky!
While trees it must shiver in leaf and in form,
Are hush as the stillness that heralds the storm.
3.
And the Memphian, at midnight, lay smiling and pleased,
His sin all unshriven, his God unappeas’d,
Till o’er his dark slumbers chill shadows were curl’d,
And the soul of the dreamer was far from the world.
4.
And he lay in the coils of the death-spirit, mute,
With a seal on his lips, like the blast in the fruit:
And he seem’d as when hoar-frost hath stiffen’d the flower;
’Twas the blight of the Lord, ’twas the touch of his power.
5.
But still was the starlight—while, shrouded and hid,
Death brooded o’er palace, and cold pyramid;
No voice on the midnight; no larum of wrath;
No sound of the whirlwind—but only its path.
6.
And a cry was in Egypt, when rose the red morn,
For a thousand pale mothers bewail’d their first born;
And Memnon’s sweet music that greeted the Sun,
Was lost in the moan of a nation undone.
7.
And shriek’d the young wife o’er the child of her pain,
That never should breathe on her bosom again;
And breasts that were warm with their nursling before,
But heaved, in their grief, for the boy that she bore.
8.
And the bride shrunk aghast, like the death-stricken dove,
When she woke in the cold frozen clasp of her love:
And a groan for the noble, the lovely outpour’d,
A wail for the battle they waged with the Lord.
9.
And they seem’d like the willows, that, left on the steep,
Are bent o’er the wreck of the forest to weep,
Or lilies that dripping, and drooping of form,
Shed tears o’er the broken, the spoil of the storm.
10.
Ye join not the wailing, ye dwellers of Zan!
Hath the death-angel spared ye, that smote as he ran?
Oh, the blood-sprinkled lintel hath stayed his proud reign,
And watched at your threshhold the Lamb that was slain.
* * * * *
HYMN TO THE REDEEMER.
1.
When o’er Judea’s vales and hills,
Or by her olive-shaded rills,
Thy weary footsteps went of old,
Or walked the lulling waters bold,
How beauteous were the marks divine,
That in thy meekness used to shine,
That lit thy lonely pathway, trod
In wondrous love, O Lamb of God!
2.
Oh! who like thee, so calm, so bright,
Thou Holy child, Thou Light of Light,
Oh! who like thee, did ever go
So patient, through a world of wo,
Oh! who like thee, so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men before,
So meek, so lovely—yet so high,
So glorious in humility!
3.
The morning saw thee, like the day,
Forth on thy light-bestowing way;
And evening in her holy hues,
Shed down her sweet baptismal dews,
Where bending angels stoop’d to see,
The lisping infant clasp thy knee,
And smile, as in a father’s eye,
Upon thy mild Divinity!
4.
The hours when princes sought their rest
Beheld thee, still, no chamber’s guest;
But when the chilly night hung round,
And man from thee, sweet slumber found,
Thy wearied footsteps sought, alone,
The mountain to thy sorrows known,
And darkness heard thy patient prayer,
Or hid thee, in the prowler’s lair.
5.
And all thy life’s unchanging years,
A man of sorrows, and of tears,
The cross, where all our sins were laid,
Upon thy bending shoulders weigh’d;
And death, that sets the pris’ner free,
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to thee;
Yet love through all thy torture glow’d,
And mercy with thy life-blood flow’d.
6.
O wondrous Lord! my soul would be
Still more and more conform’d to thee,
Would lose the pride, the taint of sin,
That burns these fever’d veins within,
And learn of Thee, the lowly One,
And like thee, all my journey run,
Above the world, and all its mirth,
Yet weeping still with weeping earth.
7.
Oh! in thy light, be mine to go,
Illuming all my way of wo;
And give me ever, on the road,
To trace thy footsteps, O my God!
My passions lull, my spirit calm,
And make this lion-heart a lamb;
And give me, all my life, to be
A sacrifice to love and thee!
* * * * *
STANZAS.
When I awake up after Thy likeness I shall be satisfied.
1.
But who can tell what joys shall make
The peace, the bliss, the love of Heaven!
Lord in thy likeness let me wake
And rise in all thy light, forgiven!
Else darker than this dreary earth,
Our long undying years shall be,
And who shall bear his second birth
To worse than Time—Eternity!
2.
Lord, in thy likeness let me wake,
So shall my soul be satisfied,
When from the mouldering tomb I break,
And see in clouds, the Lamb that died;
As roamed the dove the deluge dark,
My spirit roams Life’s troubled sea,
But thou shalt be the wanderer’s ark,
That knows no rest, till home with Thee.
* * * * *
STANZAS.
They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.
1.
Years cannot make their strength decay
Who lean upon the Lord,
Nor age fling shadows o’er the way
That’s lighted by his word:
Their path doth bright and brighter shine
Till perfect in the skies;
And life’s soft eve is no decline,
For heavenward still they rise.
2.
When winter’s might hath rent the oak,
Or summer blights its shoot,
The streams of God can heal the stroke
And sprout its deathless root:
And souls that have the fountain quaffed
Of Christ’s world-healing side,
Arise immortal from the draught,
And live through Him that died.
* * * * *
BUT THOU OH LORD.
My Father, thou art the guide of my youth.
1.
But Thou, oh Lord, shalt be my guide
Through all my dreary way,
And down the vale of death beside
Thy staff shall be my stay.
To thee alone I’ll lift mine eye
When snares have made me fall;
To Thee, when low in grief I lie,
From lowest deeps I’ll call.
2.
And oh, on Thee in every hour
Of sunshine or of shade,
The soul that feels thy varied power,
Shall call for varied aid;
So shalt thou lead me in the light
That round thy saints is cast,
O’er Jordan’s flood, to Zion’s height,
And home to Heaven at last.
* * * * *
VERSES.
He shall sit as a refiner.
1.
As o’er the flame that proves his gold,
The artist bends with careful mind,
Till mirror’d there, he may behold
His features in the ore refined;
2.
So oft doth God his children prove,
When burns the fierce refining flame,
Till glows the image of his love,
And in the heart, he reads his name.
* * * * *
STILL AS OUR DAY.
As thy days so shall thy strength be.
1.
Still as our days our strength shall be,
While still; good Lord, we trust in Thee;
While on Thy promise we depend,
Our Saviour, brother, father, friend,
Our great High Priest, to whom were known
Temptations, troubles, like our own,
Who can be touched with mortal care,
For Thou didst all our sorrows bear.
2.
Oh Lamb of God, the world on Thee,
Hath laid her deep infirmity;
And in the cross that weighed Thee down,
The bitter scourge, the thorny crown,
Thou all her griefs, and all her fears,
Didst bear through all thine earthly years,
The guiltless, for the guilty one,
For man, the Everlasting Son.
3.
Oh Saviour mine, how great the love,
That brought thee from thy throne above!
That love, what seraph’s lyre can tell,
That wondrous love, unspeakable!
So infinite, so all divine,
Unlike all other love but thine,
Like none but Jesu, none but Thee
Thou bleeding Lamb of Calvary!
4.
Give me, Thou glorious Lamb of God,
Daily to walk, where Thou hast trod,
And in adoring rapture grow,
As in thy lowly steps I go.
Give me to ponder, more and more,
Thy word’s, and thy example’s lore,
That walking here, my God with Thee,
Still as my days my strength may be.
* * * * *
THERE’S NOT A CLOUD.
Heaviness may endure for a night.
1.
There’s not a cloud that floats below
Can quench the Star of Day,
And vain the vapors earth can throw
To reach the heavenly ray;
And fast before the orient flame
The mists of morning flee;
And so our Father is the same,
Though dark our souls may be.
2.
And He will clear the deepest night
That clouds his children’s sky,
And bid the dullest tear be bright,
That dims the doubting eye.
On storms where yet the lightnings gleam
His rainbows often play,
And brighter is the moonlight’s beam
As tempest breaks away.
* * * * *
OH WALK WITH GOD.
And Enoch walked with God.
1.
Oh walk with God, and thou shalt find
How he can charm thy way,
And lead thee with a quiet mind
Into his perfect day.
His love shall cheer thee, like the dew
That bathes the drooping flower,
That love is every morning new,
Nor fails at evening’s hour.
2.
Oh walk with God, and thou with smiles
Shalt tread the way of tears,
His mercy every ill beguiles,
And softens all our fears.
No fire shall harm thee, if alas
Through fires He bid thee go;
Through waters, when thy footsteps pass,
They shall not overflow.
3.
Oh walk with God, while thou on earth,
With pilgrim steps must fare,
Content, to leave the world its mirth,
And claim no dwelling there.
A stranger, thou must seek a home,
Beyond the fearful tide,
And if to Canaan thou would’st come,
Oh who but God can guide!
4.
Oh walk with God, and thou shalt go
Down death’s dark vale in light,
And find thy faithful walk below
Hath reached to Zion’s height!
Oh walk with God, if thou would’st see
Thy pathway thither tend:
And lingering though thy journey be,
’Tis heaven and home at end!
* * * * *
THE LAND OF BEULAH.
1.
Oh native clime where’er afar
Thy promised glories shine,
Thou city of the Holy One,
Of Jesu’s friends and mine;
For thee my exile soul doth pant,
And from this far abode,
Would stretch the pinions of a dove,
And mount to meet its God.
2.
Oh there the weary wing shall rest
That cannot rest below,
And there its earth-stained plumage bathe,
Where living waters flow;
There shall the lips life’s fountain quaff,
That parch in deserts here,
And there these eyes the Lord behold,
And know no more a tear.
3.
Oh, happy home, oh native seat,
Thou only home for me,
Thou city where my portion is,
Where my true kindred be;
What joy within my bosom thrills,
That I shall soon be there,
Though last and least, yet one with them,
That crowns of glory wear!
* * * * *
HYMN IN HOLY WEEK.
1.
Who is this, with garments gory,
Triumphing from Bozrah’s way;
This, that weareth robes of glory,
Bright, with more than vict’ry’s ray;
Who is this unwearied comer,
From his journey’s sultry length,
Travelling through Idume’s summer,
In the greatness of his strength!
2.