Kind Benefactor! plant within this bosom Then place them in those everlasting gardens, WHEN Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil; The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade; Shall Man, the lord of nature, expectant of the sky, Shall Man, alone unthankful, his little praise deny? No, let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be, The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade, MINISTRY OF ANGELS. SPENSER. And is there care in heaven? and is there love In heavenly spirits to these creatures base That may compassion of these evils move? R 2 Of highest God! that loves his creatures so, To serve to wicked men, to serve his wicked foe. How oft do they their silver bowers leave, They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us plant; Oh! why should heavenly Love to man have such regard ?— Yet one more task was yours!-your hea- Ye left, and by th' unseal'd sepulchral stone From you, the veil of midnight darkness That He they sought, had triumph'd, and rending, Came the rich mysteries to the sleeper's eye, That saw your hosts ascending and descending, On those bright steps between the earth and sky; was gone! Now have ye left us for the brighter shore, more! But may ye not, unseen, around us hover, Trembling he woke and bow'd o'er glory's With gentle promptings and sweet influence trace, yet? And worshipp'd awe-struck in that fearful Tho' the fresh glory of those days be over, place. When, midst the palm-trees, man your foot By Chebar's brook ye pass'd, such glory wearing, As mortal vision might but ill endure; steps met? * Ezekiel: chap. i. Are ye not near when Faith and Hope rise A kingly character he bears, high, No change his priestly office knows; When Love by strength o'ermasters agony? Unfading is the crown he wears, Are ye not near, when sorrow unrepining, Yields up life's treasures unto Him who gave? When Martyrs, all things for his sake resigning, Lead on the march of death serenely brave? Dreams!-but a deeper thought our souls may fill, One, one is near-a Spirit, holier still! THE CHRISTIAN. COWPER. HONOUR and happiness unite, To make the Christian's name a praise; His joys can never reach a close. Adorned with glory from on high, Inferior honours he disdains, Nor stoops to take applause from earth; The noblest creature seen below, My soul is ravish'd at the thought! And shout him welcome to the skies! |