On wheels of light, on wings of flame, O Zion! lift thy raptured eye: See Mercy, from her golden urn, Pours a rich stream to them that mourn; He comes to cheer the trembling heart, Thomas Campbell. Peor and Baalim Forsake their temples dim With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine; And mooned Ashtaroth, Heaven's queen and mother both, Now sits not girt with tapers holy shine; The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn, In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. And sullen Moloch fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue: In vain with cymbal's ring, They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue: The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. The idle spear and shield were high up The hooked chariot stood [hung, Unstain'd with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the arm'd throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sov'reign Lord was by. But peaceful was the night, His reign of peace upon the earth began: Whisp'ring new joys to the mild ocean Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. John Milton. 260. BIRTH OF CHRIST, Welcoming the. All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, Whose love did not the sinner scorn! distress Thou cam'st to me: my What thanks shall I return to Thee? In Were earth a thousand times as fair, Martin Luther, tr. by A. T. Tozer. 261. BLAME, Shifting the. How backward man himself to blame! 262. ELESSED, Who are the? Who are the bless'd? cease Steadfast and tender in the hour of need, man; They who can calmly linger to the last, Survey the future and recall the past; [pain, And with that hope which triumphs over Feel well assured they have not lived in vain; Then wait in peace their hour of final restThese are the only bless'd! P. Prince. 263. BLESSEDNESS, True. In the nine heavens are eight Paradises; 264. BLESSINGS, Certainty of. If what I wish is good, And suits the Will divine, By earth and hell in vain withstood They cannot keep a blessing back 265. BLINDNESS, Compensation of. And willingly obey'd secure from fear Still hoping that the next, and still the next, And straight the blind beheld the face of 268. BLINDNESS, Duty in. When I consider how my life is spent And that one talent, which is death to hide, 66 To serve therewith my Maker, and present need O merciful One, [near: When men are farthest, then Thou art most Thy glorious face Is leaning towards me-and its holy light 266. BLINDNESS, Complaint of O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age! Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, And all her various objects of delight Annulled, which might in part my grief have Inferior to the vilest now become [ceased. Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: They creep, yet see; I dark in light exposed To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, Within doors or without still as a fool, In power of others, never in my own; [half. Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, This darkness is the shadow of Thy wing— Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse, On my bended knee I recognize Thy purpose clearly shown- I have naught to fear! Beneath it I am almost sacred-here Can come no evil thing. Give me now my lyre; I feel the stirrings of a gift divine; With the year Of nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd, 271. BLISS, Sublunary. Milton. Our waking dreams are fatal. How I dream'd Of things impossible! (Could sleep do more?) Of joys perpetual in perpetual change! On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze. Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an end; That ghastly thought would drink up all your joy, And quite unparadise the realms of light. Safe are you lodged above these rolling spheres ; The baleful influence of whose giddy dance His little weapon in the narrower sphere The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss. [vain; Bliss! sublunary bliss!-proud words and Implicit treason to divine decree! A bold invasion of the rights of Heaven! 272. BODY, The Glorified. 'Tis night: behold, as if by death opprest, The sun his rays in gloom sepulchral hide! 'Tis day behold, with renovated pride, In the magnificence of morning drest, The sun, rejoicing, lifts his orient crest; A bridegroom issuing forth to meet his bride! Thus, like the sun, beneath the ocean tide, The Christian seeks the chamber of his rest; Thus, like the sun, to rise!-But not the same Shall rise, as when his mortal course was As strong, and glorying in my might, The battles of the Lord. I scorned the multitude to dread, 274. BOOK, Dedication of a. Go, little Book! from this my solitude; I cast thee on the waters,-go thy ways; And if, as I believe, thy vein be good, The World will find thee after many days, Be it with thee according to thy worth: Go, little Book! in faith I send thee forth. Robert Southcy. And on them fell, as fell on every age, 279. BOOKS, Omniscience of see No daylight trembling on the dungeon bar; Far! There is no Past, so long as Books shall live! And learn how worlds are bartered for a Rise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming o'er, Ope but that page-lo, Babylon once more! Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 280. BOOKS, Pleasure of Give me Leave to enjoy myself. That place that does Contain my books, the best companions, is To me a glorious court, where hourly I Converse with the old sages and philosophers; And sometimes for variety I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels; Unto a strict account; and in my fancy Part with such constant pleasures, to embrace John Fletcher. 281. BRAVERY, Field for. Dare from custom to depart; Dare the priceless pearl possess ; Do what conscience says is right; 282, BRIBERY, Influence of. What is that which I should turn to, lighting upon days like these? Every door is barr'd with gold, and opens but to golden keys. Every gate is throng'd with suitors, all the markets overflow. I have but an angry fancy: what is that which I should do? I had been content to perish, falling on the foeman's ground, When the ranks are roll'd in vapor, and the winds are laid with sound. But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels, And the nations do but murmur snarling at each other's heels. Alfred Tennyson. 283. BRIBERY, Prevalence of Inaction now is crime. The old earth reels, Inebriate with guilt; and vice grown bold, Laughs innocence to scorn. The thirst for gold [feels Hath made men demons, till the heart that The impulse of impartial love, nor kneels In worship foul to Mammon, is contemned. He who hath kept his purer faith, and stemmed Corruption's tide, and from the ruffian heels Of impious tramplers rescued perilled right, Is called fanatic, and with scoffs and jeers Maliciously assailed. W. H. Burleigh. ,་ 284. BRIBERY, Power of. The advocate for him who offered most So managing the scale of justice still, Sweetly his pale arms folded That hang on Memory's wall, Seemeth the best of all. Alice Carey. 286. BROTHERHOOD, Bond of. When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west; And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time. Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the instantaneous throe, Where the travail of the Ages wrings earth's systems to and fro; At the birth of each new Era, with a recognizing start, Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with mute lips apart, And glad Truth's yet mightier man-child leaps beneath the Future's heart. That he was wanting found who poorest So the Evil's triumph sendeth, with a terror seemed. Robert Pollok. 285. BROTHER, Memory of a. That seemeth best of all; That sprinkle the vale below; That lean from the fragrant ledge, Coquetting all day with the sunbeams, And stealing their golden edge: Not for the vines on the upland, Where the bright red berries rest, Nor the pinks, nor the pale sweet cowslip, It seemeth to me the best. I once had a little brother, With eyes that were dark and deep; But his feet on the hills grew weary, I made for my little brother and a chill, |