But tis a fleeting ray;
The world's stern strife, the hand of death,
Bid mortal hopes decay.
But there's a better joy than earth,
With all her charms, can give,
Which marks the Christian's second birth,
When man but dies to live!
LOVE.
Oh Love! how fondly, tenderly enshrined
In human hearts, how with our being twined!
Immortal principle, in mercy given,
The brightest mirror of the joys of heaven.
Child of Eternity's unclouded clime,
Too fair for earth, too infinite for time:
A seraph watching o'er Death's sullen shroud,
A sunbeam streaming through a stormy cloud;
An angel hovering o'er the paths of life,
But sought in vain amidst its cares and strife;
Claimed by the many--known but to the few
Who keep thy great Original in view;
Who, void of passion's dross, behold in thee
A glorious attribute of Deity!
MORNING HYMN.
O'er Time's mighty billows borne,
Angels lead the purple morn;
Chasing far the shades of night
From the burning throne of light:
Where their glorious wings unfold,
There the east is streaked with gold;
Gilding with celestial dyes
The azure curtain of the skies.
High in air their matin song
Floats the ethereal fields along;
Ere creation wakes they sing,
Glory to the eternal King!
Till silent woods and sleeping plains
Echo far, Jehovah reigns!
Rising from the arms of night,
Nature hails the birth of light;
Smiling sweetly through her tears,
High her verdant crown she rears;
At her call the sunny hours
Wreathe her humid locks with flowers;
Bright with many a lucid gem
Shines her spotless diadem:
Every grove hath found a voice,
Countless tribes in Thee rejoice!
In melody untaught they sing
Glory to the eternal King!
Earth and heaven respond their strains,
Lord of all, Jehovah reigns!
On man's sin-bound soul and eyes
Alone the shade of darkness lies:
The last of nature's children he,
To laud the eternal Deity!
The last his sullen voice to raise,
The Lord of life and light to praise--
Slumberer, wake!--arise! arise!
Join the chorus of the skies!--
Dost thou sleep? to whom is given
The privilege of sons of heaven?
Wake with angel choirs to sing
Glory to the Almighty King,
Who life within himself retains--
Lord of all, Jehovah reigns!
Rising o'er the tide of years,
Lo, a morn more blessed appears:
When yon burning orb of fire,
And moon, and stars, and heavens expire,
And all that once had life and breath,
Emerging from the arms of death,
Shall animate the heaving sod,
And countless millions meet their God!
Whose hand the links of time shall sever,
And man shall wake--to live for ever!
When souls redeemed with angels sing,
Glory to the eternal king!
Vanquished death is led in chains--
Lord of life, Jehovah, reigns!
EVENING HYMN.
Sinking now in floods of light,
The sun resigns the world to night;
When a lingering glance he turns,
The glowing west with glory burns,
And the blushing heavens awhile
Long retain his parting smile.
Ere gray evening's sullen eye,
Bids those tints of beauty die;
Ere her tears have washed away
The footsteps of departing day,
Nature from her verdant bowers
Her last long strain of rapture pours;
Shrouded in her misty vest,
She sings a drowsy world to rest,
And tells to man, in thrilling strains,
That the Lord Jehovah reigns!
Lingering twilight dies away,
Night resumes her ancient sway,
Round her sable tresses twining
Countless hosts of stars are shining;
Weaving round the brow of night
A coronet of living light:
O'er the couch of nature bending,
Their beauteous glances downward sending,
A silent watch of glory keeping,
Guard the earth whilst life is sleeping.
Strains unheard by mortal ears,
Echo through the starry spheres;
Other worlds awake to sing,
Glory to the eternal King!
Till azure fields and liquid plains
Echo far, Jehovah reigns!
Creation sleeps--but many a sound
Of melody is floating round--
Where the moon-lit sea is flinging
Its snowy foam and upward springing
To meet the shore advancing nigh,
Pours, in many a broken sigh,
A mournful dirge o'er those who rest
Forgotten in its stormy breast.
Restless ocean, onward rave;
He who trod the boisterous wave,
Shall to life those forms restore,
Thy tides have rolled for ages o'er;
Those sleepers from thy depths shall spring
To meet in air their mighty King,
Whilst shrinking seas repeat their strains,
Lord of all, Jehovah, reigns!
This is night;--her mantle gray
She flings across the brow of day
To hide from mortal ken awhile
The splendour of his kingly smile.
But what magic beauties lie
In her dark and shadowy eye,
When the moon with glory crowned
Checkers o'er the distant ground;
Bathing now in floods of light,
Now retreating from the sight,
As the heavy vapoury cloud
Flings athwart its sable shroud;
Onward as her course is steering,
Now through broken cliffs appearing,
She shows the brightness of her form
And laughs exulting at the storm;
Whilst misty hills and moon-lit plains
Echo far, Jehovah reigns!
Night,--thy end is hastening fast,
Eternal day will dawn at last;
The Sun of righteousness shall rise,
Triumphant through his native skies;
And men redeemed from dust shall spring
To hail the advent of their King;
Till heaven's wide arch repeats their strains,
Christ, our own Immanuel, reigns!
THE END.
BUNGAY: PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes
Spelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and indentation inconsistencies
have been retained from the original book. Minor changes were made to
the Table of Contents to match the poem titles.
The following typos have been corrected:
Page 19: An changed to And:
(An Alexander's victories, compared).
Page 30: ceas changed to cease:
(Lost in immensity, would ceas to feel!).
Page 125: apostrophe added before Tis:
("Tis Mary Hume!"--his comrade said--).
End of Project Gutenberg's Enthusiasm and Other Poems, by Susanna Moodie