"A Prophet! a Prophet!' I uttered amazed;
Our God for his people a Prophet hath raised!—
An angel hath come from the light of his throne,
The Messiah at last to the world to make known,
"O'erawed by his words, from his presence I turned,
With my heart full of thought, as it fluttered and burned
With the weight of the marvels I heard and I saw,
By that fountain whose waters I wandered to draw.
"Thus-thus have I told what so lately befell My wondering soul at the Patriarch's well;
Where the waters, though sweet, as the wayfarer sips, Yet sweeter the words of that bright Stranger's lips!"
Thank thee, oh! thank thee, Samarian friend!
For the God-light that did to thy vision descend—
For the words that thy spirit remembered and told,
And the sacred delight they for ever unfold!
But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.-HEBREWS xi. 16.
I HEAR thee speak of the better land,
Thou call'st its children a happy band;
Mother! Oh where is that radiant shore,-
Shall we not seek it and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the orange blows,
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs?
"Not there, not there, my child."
Is it where the feathery palm trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies,
Or midst the green island of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?
"Not there, not there, my child."
Is it far away, in some region old,
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold-
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand—
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?
"Not there, not there, my child.
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy,
Dreams can not picture a world so fair,
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child!”
|