O all ye Virtues! sing with me His praise;
O Constancy! sing with me; Righteousness,
Within me, by me, sings the Righteous One,
And Harmony, within me, praises Him,
Th' All-perfect One; Truth in me sings the Truth;
All that is good in me the Good One sings.
O Thou, our Life, our Light! from Thee to us
Our blessings flow. I give Thee thanks, O Father!—
Th' expression of all power. I give Thee thanks,
O God!-the power of all expression. Thy words,
In me, by me, do utter forth Thy praise;
By me the world presents this sacrifice
Of words; all, all my powers exult for joy,
And my whole being sings; all do Thy will,-
Thy will this sacrifice of words receive
From all Thy creatures, tho' beneath Thee quite.
O Thou that art the Life! me wholly save;
O Thou that art the Light! enlighten me
All-perfectly. Thou God, who art a Spirit,
Thou spirit-giving Helper, let Thy word
My guide be: Thou alone art God: Thy creature
Man, calls upon Thee, now, by fire, and water,
By air, earth, spirit, and all created things:
In Thee, I've found eternal blessedness,
And, in the hope of full fruition, rest
Content in all Thy righteous, sovereign will.
TO A DEAR FRIEND, MISS L. B-CE.
GENTLE lady, good and fair!
Take a boon-an humble prayer,
Offered from an honest heart-
With thee, ere with thee we part,
Ere thou leave our Island shore,
And we see thy face no more.
Others costlier gifts may bring,
As in Friendship's offering;
None a token more sincere
To thy worth, and memory dear :—
Wheresoe'er thy course may be,
On the land, or on the sea,
Israel's God still go before thee,
Guard thee, guide thee, and watch o'er thee;
And, if peril chance to lower,
In the dark and trying hour
Still protect thee from all harm,
With His own almighty arm,
Cause all doubts and fears to cease,
And His still voice whisper "peace!"
And when at thy journey's end,
Thee and thine still He defend,
And His sovereign power impart To the soothing, healing art,— For from Him all blessings flow,And all health and joy bestow On thy suffering sister,—she Who endures so tranquilly, Without murmur or complaint,Patient being! lovely saint!Meekly bending 'neath the rod Of her ever-loving God. May you all, sweet sisters fair! Share His love and tender care. Guardian angels aye defend you, Ministering spirits still attend you, And the heavenly Graces three,Faith, and Hope, and Charity,Peace, and joy, and virtue shower Richly o'er your every hour; And where'er ye chance to rove, May the seasons healthful prove; Rural walks and blooming flowers, Woo you forth in sunny hours; And the new-awaken'd Spring,Verdant, bright, and blossoming,— All her gifts before you spread, As her light feet softly tread O'er the mead, and hill, and dale, When she strews the primrose pale, Daisy fair, and violet blue,Humblest flowers that sip the dew, And that chastest liveries wear,Like three saintly sisters fair,Flowers which shun the gaudy glare Of the garden's pomp and pride, From the world their charms to hide,
And their goodly sweets exhale,
Hid in some secluded vale,-
Like those goodly deeds which ye,-
Sisters of true Charity,—
Do in secret, and in love,-
Incense sweet to God above.—
But should social charms delight,
And sweet music thee invite,-
Thee for whom I wake this strain,
Whom I ne'er may meet again,—
Wilt thou, midst thy minstrelsy,
Sometimes cast a thought on me
And the happy hours which fled
O'er us, whilst sweet music shed,-
Through the ravishment of sound,—
Pure enchantment all around,
Waken'd by thy heaven-born art,
Meet to sooth the troubled heart,
Smooth the ruffled brow of care,
Chase all sorrow, save despair?
Such the power to music given,-
Gracious boon of bounteous heaven!
Oft a gentle handmaid she
To heav'n-soaring Piety:
Angel hosts, in thousand choirs,
Strike their harps of golden wires,
Whilst the bright-ey'd seraphim,
And the flaming cherubim,-
Radiant bands,—"in burning row,
Loud their silver trumpet blow :"
Saints on earth, and saints above
All the joys of music prove:
David's harp had power to quell,
And the moody fiend dispel,
Which did ofttimes sore appal
The sad and gloomy soul of Saul:
Bards of old, in fabled lays,
Loud have sung in music's praise;
Witness Orpheus' mighty spell,
Which could raise a soul from hell:
Greater power to thee is given,—
Thou canst raise the soul to heaven.
THE storm is hush'd, and calm the deep,
All tranquil lies our ship at rest,
And softly sweet the moonbeams sleep
Upon yon little billow's breast.
Thus, oft on Life's tumultuous tide,
Man's little bark is tempest-driven,
When lo!—the raging waves subside,—
It slumbers in the light of heaven.
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