Father of Mercies! speed the promised hour; Thy kingdom come with all-restoring power; Peace, virtue, knowledge, spread from pole to pole,
As round the world the ocean-waters roll! Hope waits the morning of celestial light; Time plumes his wings for everlasting flight; Unchanging seasons have their march begun; Millennial years are hastening to the Sun; Seen through thick clouds, by Faith's transpiercing eyes,
The New Creation shines in purer skies. All bail!—the age of crime and suffering ends,
The reign of righteousness from heaven descends;
Vengeance for ever sheaths the afflicting
Death is destroy'd, and paradise restored:
Man, rising from the ruins of his fall,
Is one with God, and God is All in All.
It seems as if the summer sky
Assumed a purer blue;
It seems as if the flow'ret's dye
Put on a brighter hue;
It seems as if rough ocean's wave
Could now the bark but gently lave;
A loveliness so soft, so fair,
Pervades the earth, the sea, the air;
Peace dwells below, and all above
Bespeaks the heavenly reign of love.
EMMANUEL!-thy sceptre bends
O'er every land beneath the sun; Where'er the track of man extends, Have thy sweet victories been won! hy cross has shone the cresset light 'o wandering men, in storms of night, And shew'd them, anxious and distrest, 'he haven of eternal rest.
COMMERCE! not now, as once of old,
Art thou the tool of vice for gold.
The tears of wo, and blood of slaves,
Not now, as once, pollute the waves;
Food for soft VICE, and PLEASURE's store,
Lade the polluted boards no more;
But every good that nature yields,
Rich fruits from gardens, food from fields,
The treasures, suns and showers dispense
Through all pervading providence ;
Fruits of the mind, and many a store
Of human and of sacred lore;
The ARTS and SCIENCES combine,
SAVIOUR! to make the empire thine.
PAINTING portrays some lively thought;
The airy group hath SCULPTURE wrought;
SONG bids to him her lays aspire,
And MUSIC gives them warmer fire;
FANCY and REASON, STRENGTH and ART,
Each bears her own, her several part.
The curse of WAR is past and o'er,
The blade shall bathe in blood no more
Within the cot, within the tower,
Wherever we may roam;
In city, field, or summer-bower,
How sweet is every home!
LOVE and RELIGION mingling there,
Make all alike around it fair.
Sweet is the beaming smile of light,
That LovE darts through the eye;
Her glance may well make warm and bright
The sternest winter-sky.
LOVE bids perpetual summer shine,
And bids perpetual roses twine,
Though storms be howling by:
But when to LOVE, so warm, is given
To look past Earth's short bound to Heaven,
To see its sweets re-bloom anew
In fields more green, and skies more blue;
LOVE, burning wtih Religion's flame,
Each hope, each fear, each joy the same
Souls, both as one, commingled there,
The same bright hope, the same sweet prayer,
The cross, their common bond-the seal,
That faith, which each profess and feel:
Oh! this is love, surpassing far,
What all mere earthly passions are:
More pure, more lovely, and more warm
Than lit by fairest earthly form.
Such is the love that shines around,
In palace, hall, or cot;
We seem to catch a blush of light
From the golden walls and portals bright:
The looks that beam, the words that sound, A sweet reflection from the ray,
The joy that decks the spot,
The hymn floats softly through the vale,
The scent of flowers is in the gale,
Combining joy and summer-sun,
Perfume and music, all in one.
The infant group are now at play,
Bright as that sun and summer's day,
While the fond mother smiles to see
The ring dance round so merrily.
Beam on beam on! ye sacred hours,
With joyance ever new;
No storm descends, no tempest lowers,
No sorrow saddens you:
The sun that makes your happy day,
Bids e'en the inmost soul be gay.
If Heav'n has ever shone below,
Its dawning now appears;
We seem to catch the morning-glow,
From those celestial spheres:
Which no sun beams,
Nor fair moon gleams,
But GOD HIMSELF sheds all the day.
This is the time so long foreseen,
When ages rolled their years between;
Thy reign, O PRINCE OF PEACE!
ENVY, and STRIFE, and WRATH have
fled,
The POWERS of SIN seem bound and dead,
And PAIN and sorrow cease!
This was the empire thou didst buy,
When on the cross, ascending high,
DEATH yielded THEE the victory!
O may it be an endless reign,
Nor earth know other rule again!
What is thought? in wild succession
Whence proceeds the motley train?
What first stamps the vague impression
On the ever-active brain?
What is thought—and whither tending
Does the subtile phantom flee?
Does it, like a moonbeam ending,
Shine, and melt to vacancy?
Has a strange, mysterious feeling,
Something shapeless, undefin'd,
O'er thy lonely musings stealing,
Ne'er impress'd thy pensive mind;
As if he, whose strong resemblance,
Fancy in that moment drew,
By coincident remembrance,
SECOND PART.
OH! the hour when this material
Shall have vanish'd like a cloud:
When, amid the wide ethereal,
All th' invisible shall crowd;
And the naked soul, surrounded
With innum'rous hosts of light,
Triumph in the view anbounded,
And adore the Infinite.
In that sudden, strange transition,
By what new and finer sense
Shall she grasp the mighty vision,
And receive its influence?
Angels, guard the new immortal
Through the wonder-teeming space,
Knew your thoughts—and thought of you? To the everlasting portal,
When, at mercy's footstool bending,
Thou has felt a secret glow:
Faith and hope to heaven ascending,
Love still lingering below;
Say, has ne'er the thought impress'd thee,
That thy friend might feel thy pray'r?
Or the wish at least possess'd thee,
He could then thy feeling share?
Who can tell? that fervent blessing,
Angels, did you hear it rise?
Do you thus, your love expressing,
Watch o'er human sympathies?
Do ye some mysterious token
To the kindred bosom bear? And to what the heart has spoken, Wake a chord responsive there?
Laws, perhaps, unknown, but certain,
Kindred spirits may control;
But what hand can lift the curtain,
And reveal the awful soul?
Dimly through life's vapours seeing,
Who but longs for light to break?
O this feverish dream of being!
When, my friend, shall we awake?
Yes, the hour, the hour is hasting,
Spirit shall with spirit blend;
Fast mortality is wasting,
Then the secret all shall end.
Let then, thought hold sweet communion,
Let us breathe the mutual pray'r,
Till in heaven's eternal union;-
O my friend! to meet thee there.
To the spirit's resting-place.
Will she there no fond emotion,
Nought of earthly love retain ?
Or, absorb'd in pure devotion,
Will no mortal trace remain?
Can the grave those ties dissever,
With the very heart-strings twin'd?
Must she part, and part for ever,
With the friend she leaves behind?
No: the past she still remembers;
Faith and hope surviving too,
Ever watch those sleeping embers,
Which must rise and live anew;
For the widow'd, lonely spirit,
Mourns till she be cloth'd afresh;
Longs perfection to inherit,
And to triumph in the flesh.
Angels, let the ransom'd stranger
In your tender care be blest,
Hoping, trusting, free from danger,
Till the trumpet end her rest;
Till the trump which shakes creation,
Through the circling heavens shall roll,
Till the day of consummation,
Till the bridal of the soul.
Can I trust a fellow-being?
Can I trust an angel's care?
O, thou merciful All-seeing,
Beam around my spirit there!
Jesus, blessed Mediator,
Thou the airy path hast trod!
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