Sharers, not bright spectators of the scene.
But though the earth shall to the centre perish,
Nor leave behind e'en chaos; though the air,
With all the elements, must pass away,
Vain as an idiot's dream; though the huge rocks
That brandish the tall cedars on their tops,
With humbler vales, must to perdition yield;
Though the gilt sun, and silver-tressed moon,
With all her bright retinue, must be lost;
Yet Thou, Great Father of the world, survivest,
Eternal as Thou wert: yet still survives,
The soul of man immortal, perfect now,
And candidate for unexpiring joys.
He comes! He comes! the awful trump I hear:
The flaming sword's intolerable blaze
I see! He comes, th' archangel from above.
"Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave,
Awake, ye incorruptible, arise;
From east to west, from the Antarctic pole
To regions Hyperborean, all ye sons,
Ye sons of Adam, and ye heirs of heaven-
Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave,
Awake, ye incorruptible, arise."
'Tis then, not sooner, that the restless mind
Shall find itself at home and like the ark
Fixed on the mountain-top, shall look aloft,
O'er the vague passage of precarious life.
Go to the ant, thou sluggard, learn to live,
And by her wary ways reform thine own.
But if thy deadened sense and listless thought
More glaring evidence demand, behold
Where yon pellucid populous hive presents
A yet uncopied model to the world!
There Machiavel in the reflecting glass
May read himself a fool. The chemist there
May with astonishment invidious view
His toils outdone by each plebeian bee,
Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing
From various herbs and from discordant flowers
A perfect harmony of sweets compounds.
GOODNESS OF GOD.
IMMENSE Creator! whose all-powerful hand Framed universal being, and whose eye
Saw, like Thyself, all things were formed for good; Where shall the timorous bard thy praise begin, Where end the purest sacrifice of song
And just thanksgiving? The thought-kindling light, Thy prime production, darts upon my mind;
Its vivifying beams my heart illumes,
And fills my soul with gratitude and Thee.
Hail to the cheerful rays of ruddy morn
That paint the streaky east, and blithesome rouse
The birds, the cattle, and mankind from rest.
Hail to the freshness of the early breeze,
And Iris dancing on the new-fallen dew.
Without the aid of yonder golden globe,
Lost were the garnet's lustre, lost the lily,
The tulip and auricula's spotted pride;
Lost were the peacock's plumage, to the sight
So pleasing in its pomp and glossy show.
O! thrice illustrious, were it not for thee,
Those pansies, that reclining from the bank,
View through th' immaculate pellucid stream
Their portraiture in the inverted heaven,
Might as well change their triple boast the while,
The purple and the gold that far outvie
The eastern monarch's garment, e'en with the dock,
E'en with the baleful hemlock's irksome green
Without thy aid, without thy gladsome beams,
The tribes of woodland warblers would remain
Mute on the bending branches, nor recite
The praise of Him, who ere He formed their lord,
Their voices tuned to transport, winged their flight,
And bade them call for nurture, and receive:
And lo! they call; the blackbird and the thrush,
The woodlark and the red breast, jointly call;
He hears and feeds their feathered families;
He feeds his sweet musicians, nor neglects
The invoking ravens in the greenwood wide;
And though their throats' coarse rattling meet the ear,
They mean it all for music, thanks, and praise ;
They mean, and leave ingratitude to man.
But not to all!-for hark! the organs blow
Their swelling notes round the cathedral's dome,
And grace the harmonious choir, celestial feast
To pious ears, and medicine of the mind!
The thrilling trebles, and the manly base,
Join in accordance meet, and with one voice
All to the sacred subject suit their song.
While in each breast sweet melancholy reigns
Angelically pensive, till the joy
Improves and purifies; the solemn scene
The sun through storied panes surveys with awe,
And bashfully withholds each golden beam.
Here, as her home, from morn to eve frequents
The cherub Gratitude; behold her
eyes!
With love and gladness weepingly they shed
Ecstatic smiles; the incense that her hands
Uprear, is sweeter than the breath of May
Caught from the nectarine's blossom, and her voice
Is more than voice can tell; to Him she sings,
To Him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns,
Who made, and who preserves, whatever dwells
In air, in steadfast earth, or fickle sea.
Oh! He is good, He is immensely good!
Who all things formed, and formed them all for man; Who marked the climates, varied every zone,
Dispensing all his blessings for the best,
In order and in beauty! Rise, attend,
Attest, and praise, ye quarters of the world!
Bow down, ye elephants, submissive bow
To Him who made the mite. Though, Asia's pride,
Ye carry armies on your tower-crowned backs,
And grace the turbaned tyrants, bow to Him
Who is as great, as perfect, and as good
In his less striking wonders, till at length
The eye's at fault and seeks the assisting glass;
Approach, and bring from Araby the Blest
The fragrant cassia, frankincense, and myrrh,
And, meekly kneeling at the altar's foot,
Lay all the tributary incense down.
Stoop, feeble Africa, with reverence stoop,
And from thy brow take off the painted plume;
With golden ingots all thy camels load
To adorn his temples; hasten with thy spear
Reverted, and thy trusty bow unstrung,
While, unpursued, thy lions roam and roar,
And ruined towers, rude rocks, and caverns wide,
Remurmur to the glorious surly sound.
And thou, fair India, whose immense domain
To counterpoise the hemisphere, extends,
Haste from the west, and with thy fruits and flowers,
Thy mines and medicines, wealthy maid, attend.
More than the plenteousness so famed to flow,
By fabling bards, from Amalthea's horn,
Is thine! thine, therefore, be a portion due
Of thanks and praise: come with thy brilliant crown
And vest of fur; and from thy fragrant lap,
Pomegranates and the rich ananas pour.
But chiefly thou, Europa, seat of grace
And Christian excellence, his goodness own;
Forth from ten thousand temples pour his praise;
Clad in the armor of the living God,
Approach, unsheath the Spirit's flaming sword;
Faith's shield, salvation's glory-compassed helm,
With fortitude assume, and o'er your heart
Fair truth's invulnerable breastplate spread;
Then join the general chorus of all worlds,
And let the sons of charity begin,
In strains seraphic and melodious prayer:
"O All-sufficient, All-beneficent!
Thou God of goodness and of glory, hear!
Thou who to lowest minds dost condescend,
Assuming passions to enforce thy laws,
Adopting jealousy to prove thy love!
Thou who resigned humility upholdest,
E'en as the florist props the drooping rose;
But quellest tyrannic pride with peerless power,
E'en as the tempest rives the stubborn oak!
O All-sufficient, All-beneficent!
Thou God of goodness and of glory, hear!
Bless all mankind, and bring them in the end
To heaven, to immortality, and Thee!"
VAIN were the attempt, and impious, to trace
Through all his works th' Artificer Divine.
And though nor shining sun nor twinkling star
Bedecked the crimson curtains of the sky;
Though neither vegetable, beast, nor bird,
Were extant on the surface of the ball,
Nor lurking gem beneath; though the great sea
Slept in profound stagnation, and the air
Had left no thunder to pronounce its Maker;
Yet man, at home within himself, might find
The Deity immense, and in that frame,
So fearfully, so wonderfully made,
See and adore his providence and power.
I see and I adore ;-O God, most bounteous!
Oh! infinite of goodness and of glory,
The knee that Thou hast shaped shall bend to Thee
The tongue which Thou hast tuned shall chant thy praise,
And thine own image, the immortal soul,
Shall consecrate herself to Thee forever.
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