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His truths upon the nations rise,-
Let everlasting thanks be thine,
As makes a world of darkness shine
My soul rejoices to pursue
LOVE OF GOD.
O! WOULD you be assured you love your God,
Pays every debt, and cancels every claim,
Watches beside your pillow while you sleep,
Supports you, leads you, guards you when you wake, And bids his angels know no better task
Than to administer to you, his child;
TO A BUTTERFLY RESTING ON A SKULL.
CREATURE of air and light,
Emblem of that which cannot die,
Wilt thou not speed thy flight,
To chase the south wind through the sunny sky?
What lures thee thus to stay
With silence and decay,
Fix'd on the wreck of dull mortality?
The thoughts, once chamber'd there,
Have gather'd up their treasures, and are gone:
They that have burst their prison-house are flown?
If thou wouldst trace their way;
Earth has no voice to make the secret known.
Who seeks the vanish'd bird
By the forsaken nest and broken shell?
Far hence he sings unheard,
Yet free and joyous, in the woods to dwell.
Take the bright wings of morn;
Thy hope calls heavenward from yon ruin'd cell.
A THOUGHT ON DEATH.
WHEN life, as opening buds, is sweet,
When scarce is seized some borrow'd prize,
How awful then it is to die!
When one by one those ties are torn,
Ah! then how easy 't is to die!
When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
'Tis nature's precious boon to die!
When faith is strong, and conscience clear,
And vision'd glories half appear,
'Tis joy, 't is triumph then to die!
THE WIDOW OF NAIN.
O MINGLE With the widow's tears
She bends beneath the weight of years;
Her son-her only son-is gone!
Oh, who shall wipe that eye?
The pall upon his corse is spread,
She follows on, without a tear,
The Savior is that pitying one;
His glance her wo disarms
Young man, arise !”—a living son
THE AUTUMN EVENING.
BEHOLD the western evening light!
The winds breathe low, the withering leaf
So gently flows the parting breath,
How beautiful on all the hills
How mildly on the wandering cloud
'Tis like the memory left behind
When loved ones breathe their last.
And now, above the dews of night,
But soon the morning's happier light
And eyelids that are seal'd in death