 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
Sacred Melody.—New York American.
“Sing to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.”
Exodus xv. 26.
Ye daughters and soldiers of Israel, look back!
Where—where are the thousands who shadowed your track—
The chariots that shook the deep earth as they rolled—
The banners of silk, and the helmets of gold?
Where—where are the thousands who shadowed your track—
The chariots that shook the deep earth as they rolled—
The banners of silk, and the helmets of gold?
Where are they—the vultures, whose beaks would have fed
On the tide of your hearts ere the pulses had fled?
Give glory to God, who in mercy arose,
And strewed mid the waters the strength of our foes!
On the tide of your hearts ere the pulses had fled?
Give glory to God, who in mercy arose,
And strewed mid the waters the strength of our foes!
When we travelled the waste of the desert by day,
With his banner-cloud's motion he marshalled our way;
When we saw the tired sun in his glory expire,
Before us he walked, in a pillar of fire!
With his banner-cloud's motion he marshalled our way;
When we saw the tired sun in his glory expire,
Before us he walked, in a pillar of fire!
But this morn, and the Israelites' strength was a reed,
That shook with the thunder of chariot and steed:
Where now are the swords and their far-flashing sweep?
Their lightnings are quenched in the depths of the deep.
That shook with the thunder of chariot and steed:
Where now are the swords and their far-flashing sweep?
Their lightnings are quenched in the depths of the deep.
O thou, who redeemest the weak one at length,
And scourgest the strong in the pride of their strength—
Who holdest the earth and the sea in thine hand,
And rulest Eternity's shadowy land—
And scourgest the strong in the pride of their strength—
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And rulest Eternity's shadowy land—
To thee let our thoughts and our offerings tend,
Of virtue the Hope, and of sorrow the Friend;
Let the incense of prayer still ascend to thy throne,
Omnipotent—glorious—eternal—alone!
Of virtue the Hope, and of sorrow the Friend;
Let the incense of prayer still ascend to thy throne,
Omnipotent—glorious—eternal—alone!
| The American common-place book of poetry | |