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And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
VISION OF ELIPHAZ.
A Sfirit pass'd hefore me: I heheld
The face of immortality unveil'd—
Deep sleep came down on every eye save
mine— And there it stood—all formless—hut divine: Along my hones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffen'd, thus it
"Is man more just than God 1 Is man more
pure Than he who deems even seraphs insecure? Creatures of clay—vain dwellers in the dust 1 The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, Heedless and hlind to Wisdom's wasted
Thy safeguard, in danger that threatens rty
path,— Thy joy, in the valley and shadow of dealt
ACQUAINT THYSELF WITH GOD.
Joh xxii. 21.
Acquaint thee O mortal! acquaint thee
with God; And joy, like the sunshine, shall heam on thy
road; And peace, like the dew-drop, shall fall on
thy head; And sleep, like an angel, shall visit thy hed.
Acquaint thee O mortal! acquaint thee with
God; And he shall he with thee when fears are
Bot how shall He the Great Sofremi! Of human knowledge he the theme f
Or man hecome acquainted With Him—the Holy, Just, and T»ri. Ancient of Days,—yet ever new, Whose image unto mortal view
Can hy no words he painted?
Presumption fain would search Him ont;
More darkly has enshrined Him:
Feel After Him, and tiso Him!
THE MESSIAH EXALTED.
Wherefore do the heathen wage War against the King of kings,
Whence the people's madd'ning rage
Haughty chiefs and rulers proud,
Braving, with defiance loud,
'Let us hreak their hands in twain, Let us cast their cords away;"
Bat the Highest, with disdain,
* High in Zion I prepare,
(Thus he speaks,) a regal throne,
Thou, my Prince, my chosen heir,
:' Son of God, with God the same,
Lo! the shaking heavens proclaim, Mightiest Lord! thy kingdom come.
** Pomp or state dost thou demand?
In thy Father's glory shine; Dost thon ask for high command?
Lo! the universe is thine."
Ye who spurn his righteous sway,
Yet his hand, averse to slay,
Ere that dreadful holt descends,
Kiss the sceptre he extends*
GOD IS KNOWN IN HER PALACES
FOR A REFUGE.
Psalm xlviii. 3.
Why wakes that moan of deep distress
In Pharaoh's halls of state,
In accents desolate ?—
A sound of revelry hy night
Is heard in Bahel's towers,
Disturh the list'ning hours ;—
Suhlime, on Sion's holy ground,
A sacred fane appears;
lis massive front uprears;
Commingling there with choral lays
Saheean perfumes rise;
That future sacrifice,
Salem exult! thy God displays
His adamantine shield;
The widely tented field;
RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS.
These eyes, that were half-closed in death,
Now dare the noontide hlaze; My voice, that scarce could speak my wants,
Now, hymns Jehovah's praise.
How pleasant to my feet unused,
To tread the daisied ground! How sweet to my unwonted ear,
The streamlet's lulling sound!
How soft the first hreath of the hreeze
That on my temples play'd!
Full floating down the glade!
But sweeter far the lark that soars
Thro' morning's hlushing ray; For there unseen, unheard, I join
His lonely, heav'nward lay.
And sweeter still that infant voice,
With all its artless charms ;— 'Twas such as he that Jesus took,
Aud cherish'd in his arms
O Lord my God 1 all these delights
I to thy mercy owe; For thou hast raised me from the conch,
Of sickness, pain, and wo.
sTwas thou that from the whelming wave
My sinking sonl redeem'd; 'Twas thou that o'er destruction's storm,
A calming radiance heam'd.
JERUSALEM. Psalm cxxii. 3.
On two hold hills Jerusalem is seen,
Cisterns for rain, canals and living foun-
mountains, And scarce a solitary flower is found To hlossom near; no sylvans sun-emhrowned Shut outthe sultry noon; no valley shines With lapse of lakes, nor falling waters sound;
One forest yet the hlue horizon lines, Black with the haleful shade of cypresses and pines.
CAPTIVE ISRAEL. Psalm cxxxvii.
When we our weary limhs to rest,
Our harps, that when with joy we sung,
Meanwhile our foes, who all conspired
How shall we tune our voice to sing,
O Salem! our once happy seat!
If I to mention thee forhear,
THE CONQUEROR FROM EDOM AND BOZRAH. Isaiah ixiii. 1—5
Oh, who is it comes from the field of the slain,
** It is I, it is I, who have risen at length
In the day of my wrath, with the sword of my strength;
It is I, who have spoken, nor spoken in vain,
For I have returned from the field of the slain!"
And why, 0 thou Victor, and why thus imhue
Thy garments of snow with the deep crimson hue?
And why, Mighty Victor, thy raiment thus red,
As though thou hadst trodden where thousands had hled?
"I have trodden the wine-press of Edom alone;
There was not a helper in Israel that day,
No arm that could save from the hostile array,—
1 looked—hut alas! there was no one to save,
No hand that could snatch from the grasp of the grave!
But I have arisen—arisen at length,
A Voice comes from Ramah, a voice of despair—
Alas! for the parent whose hope and whose trust
A voice comes from Ramah, a voice of dismay—
Tho« art our Father, Lord, our Lord,
Of promised love, and Zion-ward
Though mute within thy walls we stand,
Nor hended knee, nor lifted hand.
Nor solemn vow, nor voice of pi aver:
The contrite heart, the lowly mind,
The strength implored, the tremhling pica,
The cherished joy of years resigned,
Sometimes, perhaps, as 'reft and weak
Becanse they he hut few that seek
But thou shalt stilt inhahit there,
And Sinai's fount thy name shall hear,
Yet shalt thou teach her sons thy ways;
Her courts with prophets yet shall fill; And on her gates shall still he Praise,
And on her walls Salvation still!
There shalt thou hid thine ensign stand,
Shall call the nations, land hy land,
And Cush and Hamath, as of old,
With richest offerings, gems, and gold,
Around her horders shalt thou lead
And there Nehaioth's rams shall feed,
Within—thy love, thy peace shall rest;
The uumeasured Spirit all shall hear; And every tongue shall call her hlest,
And name her name — "The Lord is there I"
VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. Dan. v.
The King was on his throne, The satraps throng'd the hall;
A thousand hright lamps shone
O'er that high festival. A thousand cups of gold,
In Judah deem'd divine— Jehovah's vessels hold
The godless Heathen's wine!
In that same hour and hall,
The fingers of a hand Came forth against the wall,
And wrote as if on sand: The fingers of a man—
A solitary hand Along the letters ran,
And traced them like a wand.
The monarch saw, and shook.
And hade no more rejoice; All hloodless wax'd his look,
And tremnlous his voice. "Let the men of lore appear,
The wisest of the earth, And expound the words of fear,
Which mar our royal mirth."
Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill; And the unknown letters stood
Untold and awful still. And Bahel's men of age
Are wise and deep in lore; But now they were not sage,
They saw—hut knew no more.
A captive in the land,
A stranger and a youth,
He saw that writing's truth. The lamps around were hright,
The prophecy in view; He read it on that night,—
The morrow proved it true.
"Belshazzar's grave is made,
His kingdom pass'd away, He, in the halance weigh'd
Is light—and worthless clay. The shroud, his rohe of state,
His canopy the stone; The Mede is at his gate!
The Persian on his throne!"