Andrews Norton. 1786-1853. THE DEPARTED SPIRIT. He has gone to his God; he has gone to his home, No more amid peril and error to roam; His eyes are no longer dim; His feet will no more falter; No grief can follow him; No pang his cheek can alter. There are paleness, and weeping, and sighs below; For our faith is faint, and our tears will flow; But the harps of heaven are ringing ; Glad angels come to greet him, And hymns of joy are singing, While old friends press to meet him. O! honored, beloved, to earth unconfined, Thou hast soared on high, thou hast left us behind. But our parting is not forever, We will follow thee by heaven's light SUBMISSION. My God, I thank Thee! may no thought E'er deem Thy chastisement severe; But may this heart, by sorrow taught, Calm each wild wish, each idle fear. Thy mercy bids all nature bloom; The sun shines bright, and man is gay; Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom, That darkens o'er his little day. Full many a throb of grief and pain Thy various messengers employ; Let kneeling Faith adore Thy will. ON A FRIEND'S DEATH. Dost thou, amid the rapturous glow With which thy soul her welcome hears, Dost thou still think of us below, Of earthly scenes, of human tears? Perhaps e'en now thy thoughts return We framed no light or fruitless talk. How vivid still past scenes appear ! We meet again! - A little while, John Bowring. MATINS AND VESPERS. I. LORD! when I seek Thy face, I feel Yes! I can feel that, though a clod I know not how the Eternal hand Has moulded man-but this I know, That whilst 'mid earth's strange scenes I stand, Bright visions of a better land Go with me still, where'er I go. And surely dreams so pure, so sweet, My God! we are Thine offspring — time Our cradle-but our home 's a clime Heaven is the country of our birth! II. WHY should we fear? waking or sleeping, Let him not shrink though his bark be driven - let nought alarm him; The tempest may burst, but cannot harm him; Safely he steers to his port in heaven. III. My God! my Father! on Thee will I rest Rest with unbounded confidence on Thee; No slavish fears shall now inthrall my breast; |