To God, that gave us joy for tears, PEACE. I ASK no voice of trumpet tone, I would not laud the valiant dead, The clarion cry to me doth tell I love thee, O, my natal land, Long be they such, and death to him Chastisement to the footstep prest Yet never would I speed thee on Hateful, who leads his hosts to die Cursed be the song whose sparkling cheer O thou, whose name, when heaven stood still Come, and with gladness in thy train * On earth, Peace, Good will to men.-Song of the Angels. REV. ADONIRAM JUDSON, MISSIONARY TO BURMAH. The Baptist Board of Missions had passed a resolution, inviting Mr. Judson to visit the United States for the purpose of stirring up the churches to the great work of evangelizing and saving the world. WELCOME to thee! long lapse of time Hath come and glanced and gone between; Since thou for yonder idol clime, A wanderer from our coasts wast seen. Of toil and watchings nigh to death, And bonds, we've heard, 'mid wrathful foes; And war's wild stir, where once the breath Of worship, from thy Zayat rose. We wept, when persecution's rod Well hath he owned the men of toil, The breezes thence have flung along Welcome to thee-thou wilt not leave More mothers, taught aright to pray, Will lead them to the Great and Good. And, stilled some little orphan's moans, Yet while Idolatry its bands Links closer round the heir of thrall, On these thy native shores to men Who bask in beams of living light; Thou'lt tell of those beyond its kenOf Burmah's millions wrapt in night. And other pleaders thou wilt bring- The wan cheek and the sunken eye; * A dialect of the Sanscrit, rich and harmonious, now a dead language. Malte Brun affirms that the Pali is the language of Religion. Tokens, that round her memory cling, Whose smile illumed thy prison's gloom, Welcome!-and Newell shall we greet? And Hall?-forbear-they will not reck His lone return, whose eager feet Once trod with theirs the mission deck. Ah no-on them is shed the calm,— They sleep, and God beholds their dust. Then on!-his joys cannot be dim, Who, trusting, goes to seek the lost: O there are coronals for him, Who toils for Christ, nor shuns the cost. |