STATESMAN! toiling in the mart
Where Ambition plays his part;
PEASANT! bronzing 'neath the sun
Till thy six days' work is done;
Every thought of business quell,
When ye hear the Sabbath bell!
MAIDEN! with thy brow so fair,
Blushing cheek and shining hair;
CHILD! with bright and laughing eye,
Chasing the winged butterfly;
Hasten! when o'er vale and dell,
Sounds the gathering Sabbath bell!
TRAVELLER! thou whom gain, or taste, Speedeth through earth's weary waste; WANDERER! from thy native land, Rest thy steed and slack thine hand, When the seventh day's sunbeams tell, There-they 'wake the Sabbath bell!
SOLDIER! who, on battle-plain,
Soon may'st mingle with the slain;
SAILOR! on the dark blue sea,
As thy bark rides gallantly;
Prayer and praise become ye well,
Though ye hear no Sabbath bell!
MOTHER! that with tearful eye, Stand'st to watch thy first-born die ;
Bending o'er his cradle bed,
Till the last pure breath has fled;
What to thee of hope can tell,
Like the solemn Sabbath bell!
"MOURNER!"-thus it seems to say-
"Weeping o'er this fragile clay;
Lift from earth thy streaming eyes,
Seek thy treasure in the skies;
Where the strains of angels swell
One eternal Sabbath bell!"
"Thou hast been careful for us with much care; Now tell us, frankly, what would'st thou that we In recompence should have performed for thee?
To the Captain of the Host shall we repair,
And unto him prefer thy wish or prayer ?
Or shall we bend to royalty the knee,
And supplicate the KING that thou may'st be
Permitted in his regal boons to share ?"
Thus spake Elisha to the Shunamite,
In gratitude for acts of kindness shown.
But she, to whom ambition was unknown,
Who wish'd not wealth or honours should requite
Those charities in which were her delight,
Calmly replied, "I DWELL AMONG MINE OWN!"
Bernard de Morlair—(12th Century.)
THE world is very evil;
The times are waxing late: Be sober and keep vigil;
The Judge is at the gate:
The Judge that comes in mercy,
The Judge that comes with might,
To terminate the evil,
To diadem the right.
When the just and gentle Monarch
Shall summon from the tomb,
Let man, the guilty, tremble,
For Man, the GOD, shall doom.
Arise, arise, good Christian,
Let right to wrong succeed;
Let penitential sorrow
To heavenly gladness lead;
To the light that hath no evening,
That knows nor moon nor sun,
The light so new and golden,
The light that is but one.
And when the Sole-Begotten
Shall render up once more
The kingdom to the FATHER,
Whose own it was before-
Then glory yet unheard of
Shall shed abroad its ray,
Resolving all enigmas,
An endless Sabbath-day.
Then, then from his oppressors
The Hebrew shall go free,
And celebrate in triumph
The year of Jubilee ;
And the sunlit land that recks not
Of tempest nor of fight,
Shall fold within its bosom
Each happy Israelite.
The Home of fadeless splendour,
Of flowers that fear no thorn,
Where they shall dwell as children,
Who here as exiles mourn.
'Midst power that knows no limit, And wisdom free from bound, The Beatific Vision
Shall glad the Saints around: The peace of all the faithful, The calm of all the blest, Inviolate, unvaried,
Divinest, sweetest, best.
Yes, peace! for war is needless-
And calm, for storm is past-
And goal from finished labour,
And anchorage at last.
That peace-but who may claim it?
The guileless in their way,
Who keep the ranks of battle,
Who mean the thing they say:
The peace that is for heaven,
And shall be for the earth:
The palace that re-echoes
With festal song and mirth;
The garden, breathing spices,
The paradise on high;
Grace beautified to glory,
Unceasing minstrelsy.
There nothing can be feeble,
There none can ever mourn,
There nothing is divided,
There nothing can be torn: 'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 'Tis peaceless peace below; Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, The halls of Zion know.
O happy, holy portion,
Refection for the blest;
True vision of true beauty,
True cure of the distrest!
Strive, man, to win that glory;
Toil, man, to gain that light;
Send hope before to grasp it,
Till hope be lost in sight:
|