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The thought that such a day will come,

Makes e'en the exile's portion sweet: Though now we wander far from home,

In Zion soon we all shall meet.



WHOM call we gay? That honour has long

been The boast of mere pretenders to the name. The innocent are gay—the lark is gay, That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams Of dayspring overshoot his humble nest. The peasant too, a witness of his song, Himself a songster, is as gay as he. But save me from the gaiety of those Whose headachs nail them to a noonday


And save me too from theirs, whose haggard

Flash desperation, and betray their pangs,
For property stripp'd off by cruel chance :
From gaiety, that fills the bones with pain,
The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with


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MYSTERIOUS visitant! whose beauteous light
Among the wondering stars so strangely

Like a proud banner in the train of night,

The unblazoned flag of Deity it streams;

Infinity is written in thy beams;
And thought in vain would thro' the pathless

Explore thy secret course; thy circle seems
Too vast for time to grasp ;-0 can that eye
Which numbers hosts like thee, this atom

earth descry?

O Thou, my every hope, my only fear; Father of Lights, round whom the systems

roll, With all their suns and comets, sphere on

sphere, Thy all-pervading energy, the soul,

Thyself the centre of the mighty whole! When death shall purge the film of sense

away, And truth, with irresistible control, Shall seize my ravish'd mind, -that awful

day, How shall my soul sustain that infinite sur

vey !

Then shall I shudder at the guilty past,

And feel thy awful presence on my heart; Was it at thee, oh, God, my sins I cast ?

Oh! on my trembling soul thy mercy dart,

For now I feel how terrible thou art ! Thou wert All-present, and I saw thee not; Thou art my bliss, and yet I said, “De


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Murmured, tho' boundless mercy fix'd my

lot:And wilt thou own the soul that thee so oft


Oh, wondrous thought! the high and holy

One Inhabiting eternity, will make The humble soul his dwelling-place; the sun

Whose rising beams on orbs innumerous


Does shine as much for the poor reptile's

sake: To Him is nothing great-is nothing small;

He fills a world,-he bids the insect take His being full of bliss ;-He form'd them all; He guides the comet's course, -He marks

the sparrow's fall.

Man-man, tho' in the dust his insect-birth,

Beholds his nature unto God allied, Link'd to the golden throne this creature earth By ties that shall eternally abide:

Let suns, let systems perish-Jesus died Nor shall one vital spark be quench'd in

night, Which God has kindled :-Here my soul

confide, Safe in the arms of everlasting Might, And circled with the beams of uncreated




All people that on earth do dwell,

Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice, Him serve with mirth, his praise forth tell,

Come ye before him and rejoice. Know that the Lord is God indeed;

Without our aid he did us make: We are his flock, he doth us fced,

And for his sheep he doth us take.

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