And surely dreams so pure, so sweet,
Friendly to hope and joy and worth,
Are not the phantoms of deceit,
Delusions sent to blind, to cheat
The weary, wandering sons of earth.
My God! we are Thine offspring — time
Is but our infancy the earth
Our cradle-but our home 's a clime
Eternal, sorrowless, sublime
Heaven is the country of our birth!
WHY should we fear? waking or sleeping,
Man is alike in Thy holy keeping,
Let him not shrink though his bark be driven
The tempest may burst, but cannot harm him;
Safely he steers to his port in heaven.
God is around us, o'er us, near us,
What have his children then to fear?
Is He not always present to hear us,
Willing to grant, as willing to hear?
My God! my Father! on Thee will I rest Rest with unbounded confidence on Thee; No slavish fears shall now inthrall my breast;
I stand erect in holiest liberty.
Thou dwell'st in light unsearchable — and here
Thy children in a night of darkness roam;
But earth shall not detain the wanderer;
Heaven is his destiny, and heaven his home.
There peace and love, in holiest union bound,
Shall gild with everlasting smiles the scene,
And God's pure presence, scattering light around,
Fill every heart with joy and bliss serene.
MAN's hopes and fears may seem confined, to him
Whose vision stretches not o'er mortal things;
But the most distant star's invisible beam,
Or comet, in his farthest journeyings,
Or all the extent which philosophic ken
Has given to infinite space, - th' elastic soul
Springs over! These, and more than these, in vain
Her free and untried wanderings would control.
At will, she travels on from sun to sun
an all-creating one!
Dives into nature's deepest mysteries;
Unlocks the gates of death, and holds communion
With spirits of the just; and yet this spark,
So bright and beautiful, is held in union.
With mortal clay; - unintellectual, dark,-
And seems to perish. It can perish never!
Born of the heavens, again to heaven it speeds
To dwell in its own home - to shine forever,
Divested of its dull and mortal weeds!
FROM the recesses of a lowly spirit
My humble prayer ascends O Father! hear it: Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness, Forgive its weakness.
I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy
The trembling sacrifice I pour before Thee;
What can I offer in Thy presence holy,
But sin and folly?
For in Thy sight, who every bosom viewest,
Cold are our warmest vows, and vain our truest;
Thoughts of a hurrying hour, our lips repeat them,
Our hearts forget them.
We see Thy hand · it leads us, it supports us; We hear Thy voice it counsels and it courts us; And then we turn away — and still Thy kindness Pardons our blindness.
And still Thy rain descends, Thy sun is glowing,
Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing,
And, as if man were some deserving creature,
Joys cover nature.
O, how long-suffering, Lord! but Thou delightest
To win with love the wandering - Thou invitest,
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.
Who can resist Thy gentle call, appealing
To every generous thought, and grateful feeling?
That voice paternal, whispering, watching ever,
My bosom?
Father and Saviour! plant within that bosom
These seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.
Then place them in those everlasting gardens,
Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens ;
Where every flower that creeps through death's dark
portal
THE BEAUTIES OF CREATION.
OURS is a lovely world! how fair
Thy beauties, even on earth, appear!
The seasons in their courses fall,
And bring successive joys: the sea,
The earth, the sky, are full of thee,
Benignant, glorious LORD OF ALL.
There's beauty in the break of day;
There's glory in the noon-tide ray;
There's sweetness in the twilight shades; Magnificence in night: thy love
Arched the grand heaven of blue above,
And all our smiling earth pervades.
And if thy glories here be found
Streaming with radiance all around,
What must the FOUNT OF GLORY be?
In Thee we'll hope, in Thee confide,
Thou mercy's never-ebbing tide!
Thou love's unfathomable sea!
THERE is in every human heart
Some not completely barren part,
Where seeds of truth and love might grow,
And flowers of generous virtue blow:
To plant, to watch, to water there—
This, as our duty, be our care!
Hast thou e'er seen a garden clad
In all the robes that Eden had
Or vale o'erspread with streams and trees,
A paradise of mysteries —
Plains with green hills adorning them,
Like jewels in a diadem ?
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