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H. H. M.

When God came down from Heav'n—the living God

What signs and wonders mark’d His stately way? Brake out the winds in music where He trode ?

Shone o'er the heav'ns a brighter, softer day?

The dumb began to speak, the blind to see,

And the lame leap'd, and pain and paleness fled; The mourner's sunken eye grew bright with glee,

And from the tomb awoke the wondering dead !

When God went back to heav'n--the living God

Rode He the heavens upon a fiery car? Waved seraph-wings along His glorious road

Stood still to wonder each bright wandering star?

Upon the cross He hung, and bow'd the head,

And pray'd for them that smote, and them that curst ; And, drop by drop, His slow life-blood was shed,

And His last hour of suffering was His worst !


No. I.


The spacious firmament on high,
And all the blue etherial sky,
And spangled heavens a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim.
Th' unwearied Sun from day to day,
Does his Creator's praise display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The Moon takes up the wonderous tale,
And nightly, to the listening Earth,
Repeats the story of her birth ;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball,
What though nor voice, nor minstrel sound
Among their radiant orbs be found,
With saints and angels they rejoice,
And utter forth their glorious voice :
For ever singing as they shine,
“ The hand that made us is Divine !"


No. II.

R. H.

Oh blest were the accents of early creation,

When the Word of Jehovah came down from above ; In the clods of the earth to infuse animation,

And wake their cold atoms to life and to love !

And mighty the tones which the firmament rended,

When on wheels of the thunder, and wings of the wind, By light'ning, and hail, and thick darkness attended,

He uttered on Sinai His laws to mankind.

And sweet was the voice of the First-born of Heaven,

(Though poor His apparel, though earthly His form,) Who said to the mourner, “ Thy sins are forgiven !"

“ Be whole !" to the sick,--and “ Be still !” to the storm.

Oh Judge of the world ! when, array'd in Thy glory,

Thy summons again shall be heard from on high, While Nature stands trembling and naked before Thee,

And waits on Thy sentence to live or to die:

When the Heaven shall fly fast from the sound of Thy

thunder, And the Sun, in Thy light'nings, grow languid and pale, And the Sea yield her dead, and the Tomb cleave asunder,

In the hour of Thy terrors, let mercy prevail !


H. H. M.

LORD, have mercy, and remove us

Early to Thy place of rest,
Where the heavens are calm above us,

And as calm each sainted breast!

Holiest, hear us! by the anguish

On the cross Thou didst endure,
Let no more our sad hearts languish
In this

world obscure !

Gracious !—yet if our repentance

Be not perfect and sincere,
Lord, suspend Thy fatal sentence,

Leave us still in sadness here!

Leave us, Saviour! till our spirit

From each earthly taint is free;
Fit Thy kingdom to inherit,

Fit to take its rest with Thee !


R. H.

The sound of war! In earth and air

The volleying thunders roll :
Their fiery darts the Fiends prepare,
And dig the pit, and spread the snare,

Against the Christian's soul.
The Tyrant's sword, the rack, the flame,

The scorner's serpent-tone,
Of bitter doubt the barbed aim,
All, all conspire his heart to tame :
Force, fraud, and hellish fires assail
The rivets of his heavenly mail,

Amidst his foes alone.

Gods of the world! ye warrior host

Of darkness and of air,
In vain is all your impious boast,
In vain each missile lightening tost,

In vain the Tempter's snare !
Though fast and far your arrows fly,

Though mortal nerve and bone
Shrink in convulsive agony,
The Christian can your rage defy:
Towers o'er his head Salvation's crest,
Faith like a buckler, guards his breast,

Undaunted, though alone.

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