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Through cities or through shades, they flow
To the same boundless deep.
Oh! thus, whate'er our path of life,
Through sunshine or through gloom, Through scenes of quiet or of strife,
Its end is still the tomb.
The chief whose mighty deeds we hail,
The monarch throned on high, The peasant in his native vale
All journey on to die !
But if Thy guardian care, my God!
The pilgrim's course attend, I will not fear the dark abode
To which my footsteps bend.
For thence thine all-redeeming Son,
Who died the world to save,
The victory from the grave!
“ The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament
showeth his handy-work.”—Psalm xix. 1.
No cloud obscures the summer sky,
And, set in azure, every star
Child of the earth ! oh, lift thy glance
Doth it not speak to every sense
Count o'er these lamps of quenchless light,
Mark well each little star, whose rays
Each, kindled not for earth alone,
Haply, those glorious beings know
What then art thou, O child of clay!
Yet fear thou not! The sovereign hand
Be thou at peace! The all-seeing Eye,
“ They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.”—Psalm cvii. 23, 24.
He that in venturous barks hath been
A wanderer on the deep,
Where storms for ever sweep.
For many a fair, majestic sight
Hath met his wandering eye,
Or blaze of Indian sky.
Go! ask him of the whirlpool's roar,
Whose echoing thunder peals
Loud, as if rush'd along the shore
An army's chariot-wheels;
Of icebergs, floating o'er the main,
Or fix'd upon the coast,
Mid the bright realms of frost;
Of coral rocks from waves below
In steep ascent that tower,
Form'd by an insect's power !
Of sea-fires, which at dead of night
Shine o'er the tides afar,
As heaven with many a star.
O God! thy name they well may praise
Who to the deep go down,
Where rocks and billows frown !
If glorious be that awful deep
No human power can bind,
Within its bounds confined !
Let heaven and earth in praise unite !
Eternal praise to Thee, Whose word can rouse the tempest's might,
Or still the raging sea !
DEEP, fiery clouds o’ercast the sky,
Dead stillness reigns in air; There is not e'en a breeze, on high
The gossamer to bear.
The woods are hush'd, the waves at rest,
The lake is dark and still, Reflecting on its shadowy breast
Each form of rock and hill.
The lime-leaf waves not in the grove,
The rose-tree in the bower; The birds have ceased their songs of love,
Awed by the threatening hour.
'Tis noon ;-yet nature's calm profound
Seems as at midnight deep;
Breaks on creation's sleep ?
The thunder-burst !-its rolling might
Seems the firm hills to shake;
The gather'd lightnings break.
Yet fear not, shrink not thou, my child !
Though by the bolt's descent
And the wide forests rent.