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Oh, no !—let twilight shadows come, When heaven is still and nature dumh.

Then, when the zephyrs in the leaves

Scarce hreathe, amid their mazy round, And every sigh that air receives

Is heard along her still profound—
Then at night's dusky hour of hirth,
Yield the lamented dead to earth.

Yield him to earth—and let the dew
Weep o'er him its amhrosial tears,

And let the stars come forth and view
The close of human hopes and fears—

Their course goes on—he ne'er again

Shall tread the walks of living men.

Far In the west the ruddy glow
Of snnset clouds is lingering yet,

And with its hrightness seems to show
The relics of a " golden set"—

But soon the fading grandenr flies,

And sadden'd night assumes the skies.

It is a holy hour of quiet,

By which the soften'd heart is woo'd To thoughts that in the time of riot

Are rarely welcom'd to intrude— To thoughts which evening's halmy kiss Will often hring—nor hring amiss.

T^o sound awakes through all the sky,
Save the small voice of summer-hird,

That chants his little note on high,
So distant that it scarce is heard,

And yet comes floating softly hy,

As 'twere a parted spirit's sigh.

A little cloud of snowy whiteness
Is sailing through the fields of air,

And seems with all its fleecy lightness,
Like a hright angel wandering there—

That little cloud so calmly stealing,

Brings to the heart a sadden'd feeling.

A spell of silence hreathes around,

Or if a single voice is shed,
It is a soft and stilly sound—

Oh ! what an hour to quit the dead I

Choose not the day—take twilight's tone,
And let the earth receive her own.



This place is holy ground;

World, with thy cares away I

Silence and darkness reign around,

Hut lo! the hreak of day:
What hright and sudden dawn appears
To shine upon this scene of years!

, 'Tis not the morning light
That wakes the lark to sing:
'Tis not a meteor of the night,
Nor track of angel's wing:

It is an uncreated heam,

Like that which shone on Jacoh's dream.

Eternity and time,

Met for a moment here;

From earth to heaven, a scale suhlime

Rested on either sphere—
Whose steps a saintly figure trod,
By death's cold hand led home to God.

He landed in our view

'Midst flaming hosts ahove;

Whose rank stood silent while he drew

Near to the throne of love: And meekly took the lowest seat, Yet nearest his Redeemer's feet.

Thrill'd with extatic awe,

Eutranc'd our spirits fell,

And saw, yet wist not what they saw:

And heard—no tongue can tell: What sounds the ear of rapture caught 1 What glory fill'd the eye of thought!

Thus far ahove the pole,

On wings of mounting fire,

Faith may pursue the enfranchised soul,

But soon her pinions tire: It is not given to mortal man Eternal mysteries to scan.

Behold this hed of death,

This pale and lovely clay:

Heard ye the soh of parting hreath?

Mark'd ye the eye's last ray? No: life so sweetly ceased to he, It lapsed in immortality!

Could tears revive the dead, Rivers should swell our eyes; Could sighs recal the spirit fled, We would not quench our sighs Till love return'd this alter' d mien, And all the emhodied soul were seen.

Bury the dead, and weep

In stiliness o'er the loss;

Bury the dead—in Christ they sleep

Who hore on earth his cross: And from the grave their dust shall rise In his own image to the skies!



Hard is his heart who uever at the tomh Of one helov'd, o'er the sepulehral urn Hasmus'd on days that shall no more return, And cull'd around from the funereal gloom, Shades of past joy; while te^ars that lenient

flow, Seem to ohliterate the sense of wo. Lo! on the mirror hright of former days,

Whereon we love to gaze, Repictoring the scene of happiness,

No forms unkind intrude;

O'er each hard feature rude, Gather the shadows of forgetfuiness; While all that minister'd delight, Floats like a hlissful dream hefore the sight. 'Tis as a pleasant land hy moonlight seen, Where each harsh form that met the day,

In darkness dies away; Smooth gleams and tender shadows steal

hetween, While the pale silvery orh glides peaceful o'er the scene.



All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die,

Before this mortal shall assume

Its Immortality!
1 saw a vision in my sleep,
That gave my spirit strength to sweep

Adown the galf of Time!
I saw the last of human mould,
That shall Creation's death hehold,

As Adam saw her prime!

The Sun's eye had a sickly glare,

The Earth with age was wan;
The skeletons of nations were

Around that lonely man I
Some had expir'd in fight—the hrands
Still rusted in their hony hands;

In plague and famine some!
Earth's cities had no sound nor tread:
And ships were drifting with the dead

To shores where all was dumh!

Yet prophet-like, that lone one stood,

With danntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood,

As if a storm pass'd hy,
Saying, " We're twins in death, proud Sun,
Thy face is cold, thy race is run,

Tis Mercy hids thee go—
For thou ten thousand thousand years
Hast seen the tide of human tears,

That shall no longer flow.

What though heneath thee man put forth

His pomp, his pride, his skill;
And arts that made fire, flood, and earth

The vassals of his will;
Yet mourn I not thy parted sway,
Thou dim discrowned King of day;

For all those trophied arts
And trinmphs that heneath thee sprang
Heal'd not a passion or a pang

Entail'd on human hearts.

Go, let ohlivion's curtain fall

Upon the stage of men,
Nor with thy rising heams rccal

Life's tragedy again:
Its piteous pageants hring not hack,
Nor waken flesh, upon the rack

Of pain anew to writhe;
Siretch'd in disease's shapes ahhorr'd,
Or mown in hattle hy the sword,

Like grass beneath the scythe.


E-v'o I am weary in yon skies

To watch tny fading fire;
Test of all sumless agonies,

JBehold nut me expire.
My lips that speak thy dirge of death—
Their rounded gasp and gurgling hreath

To see thou shait not hoast.
Til* eclipse of Nature spreads my pall,—
The majesty of Darkness shall

Receive my parting ghost!

This spirit shall return to Him

That gave its heav'nly spark;
Yet think not, Sun, it shall he dim

When thou thyself art dark!
No! it shall live again, and shine
In bliss unknown to heams of thine,

By Him recall'd to hreath,
Who captive led captivity,
Who rohh'd the grave of Victory,—

And took the sting from Death!

Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up

On Nature's awful waste,
To drink this last and hitter cup

Of grief that man shall taste—
Go, tell the night that hides thy face,
Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race,

On earth's sepulchral clod,
The dark'ning universe defy
Th quench his Immortality,

Or shake his trust in God!



The world is grown old, and her pleasures are past;
The world is grown old, and her form may not last;
The world is grown old, and tremhles for fear!
For sorrows ahound, aud Judgment is near1

The sun in the Heaven is languid and pale;
And feehle and few are the fruits of the vale;
And the hearts of the nations fail ihem for fear,
For the world is grown old, and Judgment is near!

The King on his throne, the hride in her hower,
The children of pleasure all feel the sad hour;
The roses are faded, and tasteless the cheer;
For the world is grown old, and Judgment is near!

The world is grown old! hot should we complain

Who have tried her, and know that her promise is vain?

Our heart is in Heaven, our home is nut here,

And we look for our crown when Judgment is near!



0 Thop, on eanh heloved, adored. My friend, my father, and my Lord!

1 see thee now without a veil.— HelpI or my dazzled sight will fail.

0 hear ine to ihat hurning throne,

1 scarce can hrook to gaze upon,
And give my kindling soul to prove
The raptures of ecstatic love;

And learn unutterahle lays,
And hymn Thee in eternal praise!
Shrink like a scroll, thon frighted sky!
Eanh—tremhle into vacancy I
List to the pealing trumpet's swell,
Ye hideous depths of death and hell,—
Burst your strong chain, your gates unclose,
And hreak the long—the last repose.
Blest train of martyr'd saints, arise! .
Louk upward to your native skies!
Arise! and claim jour rich reward,
And share the triumphs of your Lord.
Behold the promised golden throne,—
The conquering palm,—the unfading crown I
And more than all,—that heaming eye,
Whose glance is love and ecstasy!

But lo! what sadden splendors heaming, O'er heaven's illumin'd arch are streaming What hues of varied heauty hlending, What fair celestial towers descending!—

0 Salem, city of our God 1

The saints'—the martyrs' hlest ahode,—

1 see the gates of pearl unfold,

I see thy streets of huinish'd gold:
I see thy towers in crystal shine I
Meet temple for a Kfng Divine.
Hail perfect, pure in virgin pride,
The mighty Lamh's resplendent hride!
Within thy hallowed courts are found,
No lurking cares to vex or wound;
No dim eye sheds the hopeless tear,
No hosom throhs with douht or fear;
And hush'd is Shame's tumultuous thrill.
And Passion's warring storm is still.
No hright sun heams hy day—hy night,
No pale moon sheds her feehler light,—
But from the throne of living fire,
Y\ here sits reveal'd th' eternal Sire,
Where seraphs raise their loadest strain,
To hail the Lamh that once was slaio,—
Tho' Faith and Hofe have pass'd away,
Love sheds a pure unchanging ray;
What faintly shone on earth hefore,
Now heams and hurns for evermore.


The chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll in fire,

As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of his ire:

Self-moving it drives on its pathway of cloud,

And the Heavens with the hurthen of Godhead are how'd.

The glory! the glory! hy millions are pour'd,
The hosts of the Angels to wait on their Lord,
And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there,
And all who the palm-wrealh of victory wear.

The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard:
Lo, the depths of the stone-covered charnel are stirr'd:
From the sea, from the land, from the south and the north,
The vast generations of man arc come forth.

The Judgment* the Judgment! the thrones are all set,
Where the Lamh, and the white-vested elders are met!

AH flesh is at ouce in the sight'of the Lord,
And the doom of eternity hangs on his word.

Oh Mercy! Oh Mercy! look down from ahove,
Creator! on us, thy sad children, with love!
When heneath to their darkness the wicked are driven,
May our sanctified souls find a mansion in heaven.



Tbe days and years of Time are fled,
Sun, moon, and stars have shone their last,
The earth and sea gave up their dead,
Then vanish'd at the archangel's hlast:
All secret things have heen reveal'd,
Judgment is pass'd, the sentence seal'd,
And man to all eternity
What he is now henceforth must he.

From Adam to his youngest heir,
Not one escaped that muster-roll;
Each, as if he alone were there,
Stood up, and won or lost his soul;
These from the Judge's presence go
Down into everlasting wo;
Vengeance hath harr'd the gates of Hell,
The scenes within no tongue can tell.

Bat lo! far off the righteous pass
To glory from the King's right hand;

In silence, on the sea of glass,
Heavens numhers without numher stand,
While he who hore the cross lays down
His priestly rohe and victor-crown;
The mediatorial reign complete,
All things are put heneath his feet.

Then every eye in Him shall see,

(While thrones and powers hefore him fall,)

The fulness of the Deity,

Where God himself is all in all:

O how eternity shall ring

While the fust note the ransom'd sing!

While in that strain all voices hlend,

Which once hegun shall never end.

In that unutterahle song,
Shall I employ immortal hreath?
Or with the wicked horne along,
Forever die, **the second death?"
Jesus my life, my light, Thou art;
Thy word is in my month, my heart:
Lord, I helieve,—my spirit save
From sinking lower than the grave.



H. MO It I.,.

Here, hliss is short, imperfect, insecure;

But total, ahsolute, and perfect There.

Here, time's a moment, short our happiest state;

There, infinite duration is our date.

Here, Satan tempts, and trouhles e'en the hest;

There, Satan's power extends not to the hlest.

In a weak simple hody, Here 1 dwell;

But There I drop this frail and sickly shell.

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