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That smile on Faith's pale brow has shone,
That calm is yielding breath; That hour is to the righteous known
Upon the bed of death.
WHEN God his wrathful stores called out
To whelm a world beneath the curse, 'Mid wild uproar and thundering shout
Of waters, Mercy whispered thus: “ Come thou, until the overflow
Of this, mine anger, passeth by:" Secure, Noah tarried, till the bow,
Beautiful signet, spanned the sky.
And when again the cry went up
From earth, accusing to the throne; And guilty man had filled his
The voice of kind alarum rung;
And round its own its mantle flung.
In latter time Redemption's plan,
Conceived ere worlds in space were hungUnfolded, and the Son of Man
Sojourned a ruined race among:
And still the Incarnate Teacher cried,
“ Come, thirsty, come! and thirst ye never:” And till in pangs he bowed and died,
He bade men come and live for ever.
Now speaketh out Jehovah's love,
In tones to chide, entreat, alarm,
How kind is Gilead's healing balm.
Or gospel woes, is this the sum: Jesus for sin a pardon seals,
The Spirit and the Bride say, Come!
THE SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS.
The soldiers of the cross
Led by the anointed Son, Know not of shame or loss,
Their watchword still is “ On" Onward! till o'er a rebel world Victorious banners are unfurled.
Whose flag looks o'er the field
Idolatry hath trod?
Behold the Word of God:
Who next?-a lamb-like throng,
The joyous infant train Approach and hail with song
Their Shepherd's peaceful reign: And he shall lead with gentle rule His chosen of the Sunday School.
And see! a noble band,
Whose lifted sheet of heaven Displays from land to land
The leaves for healing given; Where'er its spangled glories burn The nations from the dead return.
One army of the Prince,
One note their trumpets tell,
Their leader vanquished hell.
To arms! 't were glorious boon
With these stout hearts to die; To arms! for victory soon
Shall be the stirring cry: Yet every crown and palm shall meet, Where victory dwells, at Jesus' feet.
APOSTROPHE TO THE BRIG TONTINE,
BOUND FOR GREECE, FROM PHILADELPHIA, WITH PRO
VISIONS FOR THE SUFFERING GREEKS:
March 23, 1827.
SAIL on! and cheer men that have waited
In sadness, trodden down, yet free; Sail on! for barque more nobly freighted
Ploughed never the dark-heaving sea.
Smooth be the storm-swept deep before thee;
And may that God whom winds obey, While rainbow skies are laughing o'er thee,
Speedily bring thee on thy way.
0, as thy track thou’rt proudly cleaving
On Mercy's errand o’er the main, Millions, upon the shores thou’rt leaving,
Prefer the prayer—'tis not in vain
For Greece, her truly Spartan daughters,
Blessings on these, her sons and sires; For Stamboul, guilty seat of slaughters,
Just Retribution's chastening fires.
Sail on! sail on! thou bearest burden
Richer than priceless diadem ;
Of meek Compassion's holiest gem.
TO GEORGE B. ENGLISH, ESQ.
ON HIS RENOUNCING THE CHRISTIAN, FOR THE MOHAM
Way, in error's wilds astray,
Youth, aspiring, art thou found?
Tempting thus forbidden ground?
Pageant, stained with guiltless blood-
On the blessed Son of God?
Shines the robe of Moorish mail
Brighter than the Christian's gem?
Than the star of Bethlehem?
Burns not with descended flame;
Incense of a Saviour's name.
In the contrite heart is seen
Treasures, known not to thy heaven;
Dim the charms to Houries given.
Dearer is the music, holy,
Comes in tones of melancholy.