God shal! rise, and, shining o'er you,
Change to day the gloom of night;
He, the Lord, shall be your glory,
God your Everlasting Light."
UR course is onward, onward into light;
What though the darkness gathereth amain?
Yet to return or tarry, both are vain.
How starry, when around us thick is night?
Whither return? What flower yet ever might,
In days of gloom, and cold, and stormy rain,
Enclose itself in its green bud again,
Hiding from wrath of tempest out of sight?
Courage! we travel through a darksome cave;
But still, as nearer to the light we draw,
Fresh gales will meet us from the upper air,
And wholesome dews of heaven our foreheads lave, The darkness lighten more, till full of awe
We stand in the free sunshine, unaware.
From the Spanish, by H. W. Longfellow.
LEAR fount of light! my native land on high,
Bright with a glory that shall never fade!
Mansion of Truth! without a veil or shade,
Thy holy quiet meets the spirit's eye.
There dwells the soul in its ethereal essence,
Gasping no longer for life's feeble breath;
But sentinelled in Heaven, its glorious presence
With pitying eye beholds, yet fears not death.
Beloved country! banished from thy shore,
A stranger in this prison-house of clay,
The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee!
Heavenward the bright perfections I adore
Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way,
That whither my love aspires, there shall my dwelling be.
From the Latin of Casimir, by R. C. TRENCH.
My Country's loveliness! Those starry choirs
That watch around the pole,
And the moon's tender light, and heavenly fires
Through golden halls that roll.
O, chorus of the night! O, planets, sworn
The music of the spheres
To follow! Lovely watchers, that think scorn
To rest till day appears!
Me, for celestial homes of glory born,
Why here, oh why so long
Do ye behold an exile from on high?
Here, oh ye shining throng,
With lilies spread the mound where I shall lie:
Here let me drop my chain,
And dust to dust returning, cast away
The trammels that remain ;
The rest of me shall spring to endless day.
OOK thou no further, but affixe thine eye
On that bright shynie, round, still moving masse,
The house of blesséd God, which men call skye,
All sowed with glistering stars more thicke than grasse,
Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe.
But those two most which, ruling night and daye,
As king and queene, the heaven's empire sway.
And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene
That to their beautie may comparéd bee?
Or can the sight that is most sharpe and keene
Endure their Captain's flaming head to see?
How much lesse those much higher in degree,
And so much fairer, and much more than these,
As these are fairer than the land and seas?
For farre above those heavens which here we see
Be others farre exceeding these in light;
Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee,
But infinite in largenesse, and in height,
Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright,
That need no sunne t' illuminate their spheres,
But their own native light farre passing theirs.
And as these heavens still by degrees arize,
Until they come to their first Mover's bound,
That in his mightie compasse doth comprize,
And carrie all the rest with him around;
To those likewise, doe by degrees redound,
And rise more faire, till they at last arrive
To the most faire, whereto they all do strive.
Faire is the Heaven, where happy souls have place In full enjoyment of felicitie,
Whence they doe still behold the glorious face
Of the Divine Eternall Maiestie:
More faire is that, where those Idees on hie
Enraunged bee, which Pluto so admyred,
And pure Intelligences from God inspyred.
HAT no human eye hath seen, What no mortal ear hath heard, What on thought has never been
In its noblest flights conferred—
This has God prepared in store
For His people evermore!
When the shaded Pilgrim-land
Fades before my closing eye,
Then revealed on either hand,
Heaven's own scenery shall lie ;—
Then the veil of flesh shall fall,
Now concealing, darkening all.
Heavenly landscapes, calmly bright,
Life's pure river, murmuring low;
Forms of loveliness and light
Lost to earth long time ago;
Yes, mine own lamented long,
Shine amid the angel throng!
Many a joyful sight was given
Many a lovely vision here— Hill, and vale, and starry even,
Friendship's smile,-affection's tear;
These were shadows sent in love,
Of realities above!
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