« 前へ次へ »
Ere long my soul shall wing its airy flight,
And share the sweetness of your full delight:
Nor time-nor death-shall my firm hope destroy,
For now my soul anticipates your joy.
JESUS-your sun—with dazzling glory bright,
By whom ye shine as stars with borrow'd light,
Shall burst the veil of nature's thin disguise,
And I, like you, shall in his image rise.
O, happy period ! O, long with’d-for day!
Ye lagging moments, why this long delay?
Hope not to quench nor damp the latent fire,
Your sleepy progress but creates defire:
When shall these eyes in perfect vision see,
The spotless LAMB that BLED that Died for me!.
O PRECIOUS FAITH!- I love thy friendly power!
Thou kind attendant in each doubting hour;
Yet half the glory thy dim light conceals,
And partial pleasures thou, at best, reveals :
To higher blits ! my ardent soul aspires,
And pants to join the loud angelic choirs :
Yet purer joys-yet more exalted bliss,
My heart anticipates, by far, than this;
A RISEN SAVIOUR, there inust crown my joy,
And all the powers of conscious love employ.
'Tis his lov'd-prefence must my bliss impart,
And fill with transport this now throbbing heart!
'Tis there the faints-in loud hosanna's fing,
And hail ! triumphant--their victorious king.
With them my soul shall join her raptur'd lay,
But shout him conqu’ror----far more loud than they.
TO A LADY WITH A WITHERED ROSE.
BY THOMAS DRUMMOND, L. L. D.
YLVIA, to thee this wither'd rose I send,
Receive the dumb instructor as a friend;
And if the moral tale you justly mark,
'Twill preach as well as TILLOTSON or CLARKE.
This lifeless, shrivel’d, now neglected thing,
Was lately seen the glory of the spring ;
Exulted in the pride of youthful bloom,
Grateful to fight, luxuriant with perfume :
Its bosom pregnant with etherial dew,
Swell’d to the sun, and blush'd as bright as you :
The morn the full-blown ruddy vigor spy'd,
At eve it droop'd its languid head and dy'd.
Such, and so frail the tints of beauty's power,
The gaudy dress and blossom of an hour.
Expos'd each minute to the nipping storm,
To baneful blasts, that every grace deform:
Diseafc ftill hov'ring round on pallid wing,
With all her ugly train prepar'd to fting :
And these escap d, with flow, but sure decay,
Old haggard time cach colour wipes away;
The lily, and the rose’s hue decline,
Shrunk to the texture of a shrivel'd skin.
Sylvia, too grave perlaps these truths appear,
My song too moral, and the theme severe;
To one, in all the pride of thoughtless May,
Of health improvident, and nature gay;
Untutor’d yet in wisdom's sacred school,
And in the one great needful thing--a fool.
To say that beauty's frail will seem more odd,
Than doubt of providence, or doubt a God:
Your cares devoted only to employ
The golden hours, to deck a sparkling toy;
To spin the thread, to spread the guileful art,
To catch the idle, giddy, flutt'ring heart :
In affectation every charm express,
And torture every feature into dress.
The fop, the coxcomb, buzzing round you fly,
Live, if you smile, and if you frown, they die,
On air-blown bubbles flattery's altar raise,
Diffusing round the smoak of empty praise,
Despoil all nature's works of every grace,
To shape your person, and adorn your face.
Not all the blooming colours of the field,
Sufficient strength of epithet can yield;
Your white and red how delicate to show
The lily and the rose not only blow,
Earth's bowels rent, BOLCOND, and VISAPOUR *,
Lend their assistance to th' imperfect flower.
Your eye--the diamond's brightest water shows;
Your lips--the ruby's crimfon blush disclofe;
Your veins the sapphire's comely blue deride,
Within the garnet rolls a scarlet tide.
Two places in the Mogul's dominions famous for jewels.
“ Hail! happy favorites of our heavenly king! " To you these tidings we with rapture bring: “ For You--not'us-(now clad in human guise) “ The willing Saviour left his native skies ! " Our kindred spirits, when they finning fell, • Were doom'd to suffer the fierce pangs of hell ! “ There, bound in chains, the impious rebels lie, 66 And feel a thousand deaths. but never die ! " For them, no prospect of a wish'd release, “ No views of pardon, no kind terms of peace ! “ No gleam of hope displays its distant beam, " No GOD TO DIE-no Jesus to redeem " One sinful act destroy'd their blest estate, “ And stampt ETERNAL their reverse of fate ! " Then join with us, ye honor'd fons of CRACE! “ Ye happier subjects, ye dear PURCHAS'D race ! « Let heaven and earth their grateful accents raise, " And sing with us your kind Emmanuel's praise !" Their errand told the seraphs take their fight, Through trackless æther, unapproach'd by fight; The lift'ning shepherds, loft in ftrange amaze, Express their wonder as they distant gaze! Thus eager look'd the apostolic few, When from their presence, their lov'd master flew ! When each fond gazer dropt a mournful tear, And with'd to follow him--they follow'd here.
But lo!. the shepherds turn their wond'ring eyes ! They seek the manger, where EMMANUEL lies. TO BETHLEHEM with hasty strides they run, There, view their SAVIOUR---there, their RISEN SUN!
Amazing thought! - but more amazing fight!--
The God of nature, and dark nature's light!
The God of GLORY leaves the realms of bliss,
To share the sorrows of a world like this!
From glory Aies to be despis'd on earth,
As speaks the language of his humble birth.
Amazing proof of thy kind errand here !
Thou son, thou SAVIOUR, whom all should revere!
No infant honors thy lov'd presence wait,
No forms of grandeur, nor large rooms of state;
No weeping friends, no waiting fervants 'tend,
No earthly comforts, kind assistance lend;
No tender nurse, no skilful midwife stands,
To aid weak nature when she most demands :
No downy bed, no eafy pillows there,
No feeling signs of sympathetic care !
Nor aught I see-nor aught affords relief,
But weeping JOSEPH, drown'd in floods of grief !
Now born the SON -the raptur'd PROPHET sung When fire celestial touch'd his hallow'd tongue ! The given son—the hope of ancient years, The mighty GOD the Prince of PEACE appears ! WONDERFUL!-COUNSELLOR!--ALMIGHTY-ONE! Th’ ETERNAL FATHÆRand th'ETERNAL SON ! *
* These expressions, though agreeable to Isa, ix. 6. may probably be adopted by a SABELLIAN, as consistent with his owo sentiments. It may not be improper there ore to inform the candid reader, that I retain a sense of the words widely different. The DISTINCT PERSONALITY of the Godheid, is, in my judgment, a truth of the last