 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
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RELIGIOUS AND ELEGIAC.
THE NATIVITY.
Strike the loud anthem, to hail the blest morning,
Jesus the Saviour an infant appears;
Lo! in the East, a new day-spring is dawning!
Hark! the glad tidings which sound in our ears!
On this auspicious morn,
To us a child is born,
Glory to God in the highest be given;
Hail our Redeemer's birth—
Good will and peace on earth—
Man shall again have conjunction with Heaven.
Jesus the Saviour an infant appears;
Lo! in the East, a new day-spring is dawning!
Hark! the glad tidings which sound in our ears!
On this auspicious morn,
To us a child is born,
Glory to God in the highest be given;
Hail our Redeemer's birth—
Good will and peace on earth—
Man shall again have conjunction with Heaven.
Hark! 't was the voice of a seraph that sounded—
Shepherds of Judea start with surprise,
While, with a radiance of glory surrounded,
Troops of bright angels descend from the skies.
Now loud the choral strain
Swells round the happy plain,
Glory to God in the highest be given;
Hail our Redeemer's birth—
Good will and peace on earth—
Man shall again have conjunction with Heaven.
Shepherds of Judea start with surprise,
While, with a radiance of glory surrounded,
Troops of bright angels descend from the skies.
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Swells round the happy plain,
Glory to God in the highest be given;
Hail our Redeemer's birth—
Good will and peace on earth—
Man shall again have conjunction with Heaven.
Hail to the Saviour, descending from heaven,
To build him a kingdom which never shall cease;
The Child that is born and the Son that is given,
Is God everlasting, the great Prince of Peace.
Praise him with grateful lays,
Pour forth the soul in praise;
The government rests on his shoulders alone:
In him the Godhead dwells
Which has subdued the hells;
And God the Creator as Jesus is known.
To build him a kingdom which never shall cease;
The Child that is born and the Son that is given,
Is God everlasting, the great Prince of Peace.
Praise him with grateful lays,
Pour forth the soul in praise;
The government rests on his shoulders alone:
In him the Godhead dwells
Which has subdued the hells;
And God the Creator as Jesus is known.
THE INCARNATION.
Oh for a Seraph's golden lyre,
With chords of light, and tones of fire,
To sing that wondrous love
Which brought a Deity below,
To save an erring race from wo,
And give them joys above.
With chords of light, and tones of fire,
To sing that wondrous love
Which brought a Deity below,
To save an erring race from wo,
And give them joys above.
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Oh may that love inspire my soul,
Till such ecstatic numbers roll,
As are by angels given;
To tell Redemption's wondrous plan,
How Heaven descended down to man,
That man might rise to heaven.
Till such ecstatic numbers roll,
As are by angels given;
To tell Redemption's wondrous plan,
How Heaven descended down to man,
That man might rise to heaven.
His creatures fell—no pitying eye,
No powerful arm to save, was nigh,
Or aid our feeble powers;
He saw—he came—he fought alone,
And conquered evils not his own,
That we might conquer ours.
No powerful arm to save, was nigh,
Or aid our feeble powers;
He saw—he came—he fought alone,
And conquered evils not his own,
That we might conquer ours.
Temptation's thorny path he trod,
In form, a man—in soul, a God,
And trod the path alone;
In vain the direst fiends assailed,
His mighty arm of power prevailed,
And hell was overthrown.
In form, a man—in soul, a God,
And trod the path alone;
In vain the direst fiends assailed,
His mighty arm of power prevailed,
And hell was overthrown.
He passed the dismal vale of death—
The human form resigned its breath,
And like a mortal died;
But death was crushed beneath his feet,
He rose a God and Man complete,
His human glorified.
The human form resigned its breath,
And like a mortal died;
But death was crushed beneath his feet,
He rose a God and Man complete,
His human glorified.
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Amazing mercy!—love immense!
Surpassing every human sense,
Since time and sense began!
That man might shun the realms of pain,
And know and love his God again,
His God became a man!
Surpassing every human sense,
Since time and sense began!
That man might shun the realms of pain,
And know and love his God again,
His God became a man!
REDEMPTION.
Redemption claims our highest lays,
To Jesus Christ belongs the praise;
The lofty theme should fire the soul,
And music's richest numbers roll.
Our blest Redeemer is the God we own,
Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
To Jesus Christ belongs the praise;
The lofty theme should fire the soul,
And music's richest numbers roll.
Our blest Redeemer is the God we own,
Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
Unseen, unknown, and unrevealed,
No creature's eye our God beheld,
Till he the wondrous work begun,
And showed the Father in the Son;
Jehovah now as Jesus Christ is known,
Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
No creature's eye our God beheld,
Till he the wondrous work begun,
And showed the Father in the Son;
Jehovah now as Jesus Christ is known,
Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
From heaven his pitying eye surveyed
The ruin sin on earth had made;
He saw his creatures run the road
Which led from happiness and God;
He saw, and saved—the work was all his own,
Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
The ruin sin on earth had made;
He saw his creatures run the road
Which led from happiness and God;
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Then swell the chorus to his name alone.
Swift from supernal realms of day,
Seraphic minstrels winged their way,
To hail the great Redeemer's birth,
And published peace to men on earth:
“To God give glory”—sung the joyous throng,
Let men and angels still repeat the song.
Seraphic minstrels winged their way,
To hail the great Redeemer's birth,
And published peace to men on earth:
“To God give glory”—sung the joyous throng,
Let men and angels still repeat the song.
Alas! no human accents can
Express the love of God to man;
Who, to redeem a sinful worm,
Assumed the human mind and form;
Was born a man, that man might be re-born!
Then let us praise him on his natal morn.
Express the love of God to man;
Who, to redeem a sinful worm,
Assumed the human mind and form;
Was born a man, that man might be re-born!
Then let us praise him on his natal morn.
GOD IN HIS TEMPLE.
God is in his holy temple,
Sons of earth be silent now;
Hither let the saints assemble,
And before his footstool bow.
Lo, he 's present with us ever,
When assembled in his name;
Aiding every good endeavor,
Guiding every humble aim.
Sons of earth be silent now;
Hither let the saints assemble,
And before his footstool bow.
Lo, he 's present with us ever,
When assembled in his name;
Aiding every good endeavor,
Guiding every humble aim.
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God is in his holy temple,
'T is each renovated mind;
Where the purer thoughts assemble,
While the base are cast behind.
Every earthly, low affection,
Long opposed, is silent now;
Every passion, in subjection,
Must at Wisdom's altar bow.
'T is each renovated mind;
Where the purer thoughts assemble,
While the base are cast behind.
Every earthly, low affection,
Long opposed, is silent now;
Every passion, in subjection,
Must at Wisdom's altar bow.
God is in his holy temple,
'T is the church he calls his own,
'T is the city where assemble
All who worship him alone.
New Jerusalem the holy
Is the city of our God,
There our Saviour governs solely,
With the balance and the rod.
'T is the church he calls his own,
'T is the city where assemble
All who worship him alone.
New Jerusalem the holy
Is the city of our God,
There our Saviour governs solely,
With the balance and the rod.
God is in his holy temple,
'T is the body of our Lord;
Infidels may doubt and tremble,
We have learned it from his Word;
From the Word which wrought creation,
From that Word which flesh became,
Which alone can give salvation—
God and Jesus are the same.
'T is the body of our Lord;
Infidels may doubt and tremble,
We have learned it from his Word;
From the Word which wrought creation,
From that Word which flesh became,
Which alone can give salvation—
God and Jesus are the same.
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THE WORLD OF MIND.
FIRST DAY OF CREATION.
There is a world—the world of mind,
By neither time nor space confined;
And when we cease in flesh to dwell,
That world will be our heaven or hell.
By neither time nor space confined;
And when we cease in flesh to dwell,
That world will be our heaven or hell.
By fallen nature, 't is, alas!
A rude, chaotic, shapeless mass;
Devoid of goodness, truth, or light,
And veiled in backest shades of night.
A rude, chaotic, shapeless mass;
Devoid of goodness, truth, or light,
And veiled in backest shades of night.
But he who gave creation birth,
Can re-create this mental earth;
For this his Spirit, like a dove,
Broods o'er our secret thoughts in love.
Can re-create this mental earth;
For this his Spirit, like a dove,
Broods o'er our secret thoughts in love.
If we consent to be renewed,
And wish our evil lust subdued;
“Let there be light,” he says, and straight
We see our low, disordered state.
And wish our evil lust subdued;
“Let there be light,” he says, and straight
We see our low, disordered state.
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Then do we seek to know the Lord,
Receive instruction from his word;
While he divides the day from night,
And we proceed from shade to light.
Receive instruction from his word;
While he divides the day from night,
And we proceed from shade to light.
Lord, let thy Spirit, like a dove,
Brood over all our souls in love;
Then give us light our state to see,
And we will give the praise to thee.
Brood over all our souls in love;
Then give us light our state to see,
And we will give the praise to thee.
THE WORLD OF MIND.
SECOND DAY OF CREATION.
Our God can re-create,
And form the soul anew;
And all who will co-operate,
Shall find his promise true.
And form the soul anew;
And all who will co-operate,
Shall find his promise true.
When we permit his light
Our evils to reprove,
And then those evils boldly fight,
He will the whole remove.
Our evils to reprove,
And then those evils boldly fight,
He will the whole remove.
Though hard the contest prove,
And doubtful seem the fray,
He hovers o'er us with his love,
Till we have gained the day.
And doubtful seem the fray,
He hovers o'er us with his love,
Till we have gained the day.
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The Lord will then create
A firmament sublime,
Celestial thoughts to separate
From those of sense and time.
A firmament sublime,
Celestial thoughts to separate
From those of sense and time.
We then no more believe
The work to be our own;
But all of good that we receive
Ascribe to God alone.
The work to be our own;
But all of good that we receive
Ascribe to God alone.
Thus will a second birth
Form heaven within the soul,
And man, a new-created earth,
In order's orbit roll.
Form heaven within the soul,
And man, a new-created earth,
In order's orbit roll.
MIRIAM'S SONG.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his glory in rapturous lays;
Sing of his triumphs when demons assaulted,
When hosts of infernals his human assailed,
The hells were subdued, and the Victor exalted—
Like man he was tempted—like God he prevailed.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
And tell of his glory in rapturous lays;
Sing of his triumphs when demons assaulted,
When hosts of infernals his human assailed,
The hells were subdued, and the Victor exalted—
Like man he was tempted—like God he prevailed.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
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Praise him, ye ransomed—he conquered for you,
Who fled from your sins, and beheld them pursue,
Whelming your spirits in deep tribulation;
But Jesus was present, a pillar of fire,
And led you in safety through seas of temptation,
In which you beheld each assailant expire.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
Who fled from your sins, and beheld them pursue,
Whelming your spirits in deep tribulation;
But Jesus was present, a pillar of fire,
And led you in safety through seas of temptation,
In which you beheld each assailant expire.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
Praise him who conquered our spiritual foes,
When fierce, like an army of horsemen, they rose,
Threatening again in their shackles to bind us;
Through billows of trouble he led us to shore,
While the horse and his rider were foundered behind us,
O'erwhelmed in the gulf, to assail us no more.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
When fierce, like an army of horsemen, they rose,
Threatening again in their shackles to bind us;
Through billows of trouble he led us to shore,
While the horse and his rider were foundered behind us,
O'erwhelmed in the gulf, to assail us no more.
Sing to Jehovah an anthem of praise,
And tell of his triumphs in rapturous lays.
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OPEN THE DOOR.
That God who calls the human mind,
A temple for himself designed,
A house upon a rock—
Assures us he will patient wait,
In mercy, at the mental gate,
And for admittance knock.
A temple for himself designed,
A house upon a rock—
Assures us he will patient wait,
In mercy, at the mental gate,
And for admittance knock.
Who hears the gracious call within,
And draws the iron bolts of sin,
Which barricade the door,
Will banquet with a guest divine,
On life-imparting food and wine,
From Love's exhaustless store.
And draws the iron bolts of sin,
Which barricade the door,
Will banquet with a guest divine,
On life-imparting food and wine,
From Love's exhaustless store.
Come, then, dear Saviour—be my guest,
Knock louder at this flinty breast,
And rouse me with thy voice;
Then will I struggle to remove
The sins which now obstruct thy love,
And in that love rejoice.
Knock louder at this flinty breast,
And rouse me with thy voice;
Then will I struggle to remove
The sins which now obstruct thy love,
And in that love rejoice.
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Thou wilt not let me strive in vain—
The gates of brass shall burst in twain,
The iron bars shall fall;
Then will my soul thy temple be,
Where I shall ever feast with thee,
My God, my life, my all!
The gates of brass shall burst in twain,
The iron bars shall fall;
Then will my soul thy temple be,
Where I shall ever feast with thee,
My God, my life, my all!
HOW SHALL I COME BEFORE HIM?
How shall we sinners come before
Our blessed Saviour's dazzling throne;
Or how acceptably adore
The great redeeming God we own?
Our blessed Saviour's dazzling throne;
Or how acceptably adore
The great redeeming God we own?
Shall fatlings on his altar burn,
Or oil in bounteous rivers flow?
Will God be pleased with such return,
For all the mighty debt we owe?
Or oil in bounteous rivers flow?
Will God be pleased with such return,
For all the mighty debt we owe?
Or shall we burst the tenderest tie
That binds the throbbing seat of sense,
And with our body's offspring buy
A pardon for our soul's offence?
That binds the throbbing seat of sense,
And with our body's offspring buy
A pardon for our soul's offence?
Ah! no—a humble, contrite heart,
Is all the offering God requires;
Our only sacrifice, to part
With evil loves and false desires.
Is all the offering God requires;
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With evil loves and false desires.
Oh let us, then, no longer stray,
Along the dangerous paths we 've trod;
For he has plainly showed the way
Which will conduct us back to God.
Along the dangerous paths we 've trod;
For he has plainly showed the way
Which will conduct us back to God.
'T is but to regulate the mind
By the pure precepts of his word;
To act with truth and love combined,
And humbly imitate the Lord.
By the pure precepts of his word;
To act with truth and love combined,
And humbly imitate the Lord.
HAPPINESS.
Who then is happy? Ere she close the strain,The muse herself shall answer. 'T is the man
(Of easy fortune and a generous heart)
Whose charity by wisdom is directed;
Who loves his God, his neighbor, and himself,
In just descending order; whose employ
Is doing good to others; whose reward,
The bright reflection of the joy he gives.
Like a mild taper in a diamond lustre,
Which multiplies one little ray to thousands,
His means of blessing still increase by use.
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Can shake the solid peace of such a man.
The changing seasons, times, events, and all
The various scenes that checker human life,
And e'en the chilling adverse storms of fate,
Serve but to ripen the celestial fruits
His active love produces; draughts of bliss
He quaffs for every little taste he gives,
And finds a heaven in wishing others there.
To seek for happiness in things of sense,
In wealth, ambition, pleasure, or supineness,
Is but a vain exertion—idle hope;
For then we chase a transitory cheat,
And leave the game, the real prize, behind,
Hid in contentment's calm sequestered vale,
While we toil up the mountain's rugged side,
Tempting new dangers, and exposed to all
The storms that beat ambition's bleaker road;
Or perils worse than these, concealed beneath
The treacherous sweets that bloom in pleasure's path,
A thousand serpent-stings, unseen, but fatal.
And if in dastard indolence we rest,
Our lazy hopes are certain of defeat.
Then learn the true, the only real source
Whence happiness can flow—a precept drawn
From holy writ this heavenly source proclaims—
“To fear the Lord, and his commands obeys,
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An easy yoke, a burden light to bear.
'T is but to love in heart and action both—
For love is the fulfilling of the law.
CONSECRATION.
Jesus is God, and God alone,
Oh, be this TRUTH confest,
For 't is the sure foundation stone
On which the church shall rest.
Oh, be this TRUTH confest,
For 't is the sure foundation stone
On which the church shall rest.
Though modern builders pass it by,
And scribes and priests reject,
On this blest TRUTH, which they deny,
We now the church erect.
And scribes and priests reject,
On this blest TRUTH, which they deny,
We now the church erect.
Though earth and hell against it join,
Yet must this building rise;
The work, Almighty God, is thine,
And wondrous in our eyes
Yet must this building rise;
The work, Almighty God, is thine,
And wondrous in our eyes
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SIN NO MORE.
A song of gratitude begin,
To praise the God who saves from sin;
Who marks the penitential tear,
And deigns the contrite sigh to hear;
Who whispers hope, when we our sins deplore—
“Thy God condemns thee not—offend no more.”
To praise the God who saves from sin;
Who marks the penitential tear,
And deigns the contrite sigh to hear;
Who whispers hope, when we our sins deplore—
“Thy God condemns thee not—offend no more.”
But ah! such love can ne'er be sung—
Such boundless grace!—by mortal tongue;
For e'en celestial minstrels deem
Their highest skill below the theme;
Yet mortals can, with gratitude, adore
The God who pardons all that sin no more.
Such boundless grace!—by mortal tongue;
For e'en celestial minstrels deem
Their highest skill below the theme;
Yet mortals can, with gratitude, adore
The God who pardons all that sin no more.
Dear Lord! is this condition all—
To fight the foes that wrought our fall?
Thus armed with hope, I'll quell a host,
Nor let so cheap a heaven be lost;
Oh then repeat the sweet assurance o'er,
“Thy God will not condemn thee—sin no more.”
To fight the foes that wrought our fall?
Thus armed with hope, I'll quell a host,
Nor let so cheap a heaven be lost;
Oh then repeat the sweet assurance o'er,
“Thy God will not condemn thee—sin no more.”
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AND DID I SAY?
And did I say my lyre should sleep,
Because no laurels decked it;
That I no more its chords would sweep,
Because its lay is valued cheap,
And all the world neglect it?
I did—but felt not then the flame
Which now within me blazes,
Nor recked of His eternal claim,
Who gave the lyre to sing his name,
And utter forth his praises.
Because no laurels decked it;
That I no more its chords would sweep,
Because its lay is valued cheap,
And all the world neglect it?
I did—but felt not then the flame
Which now within me blazes,
Nor recked of His eternal claim,
Who gave the lyre to sing his name,
And utter forth his praises.
But now that lyre shall sleep no more,
Nor wake to earthly measures;
But every strain it warbles o'er,
Shall that Eternal Source adore,
Whence flow immortal pleasures.
No more I prostitute its lay,
To subjects evanescent;
But sing those scenes of endless day,
Where angel harps in rapture play,
And praises flow incessant.
Nor wake to earthly measures;
But every strain it warbles o'er,
Shall that Eternal Source adore,
Whence flow immortal pleasures.
No more I prostitute its lay,
To subjects evanescent;
But sing those scenes of endless day,
Where angel harps in rapture play,
And praises flow incessant.
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THE PARALYTIC'S DEPRECATION.
Paralysis, thou ruthless fiend, forbear!
Drag not thy victim thus to fell despair!
Or art thou licensed by offended Heaven?
And has commission, then, to thee been given,
Around poor, erring mortals thus to throw
Thy iron shackles? Demon, let me go!
Why chain me thus? dissolve the spell! relent!
In vain I struggle, for my strength is spent.
In pity spare me! for I can not move
My limbs, nor lift my pinioned arms above,
In supplication to the throne of grace;
Hold, ruthless demon! for a little space.
Drag not thy victim thus to fell despair!
Or art thou licensed by offended Heaven?
And has commission, then, to thee been given,
Around poor, erring mortals thus to throw
Thy iron shackles? Demon, let me go!
Why chain me thus? dissolve the spell! relent!
In vain I struggle, for my strength is spent.
In pity spare me! for I can not move
My limbs, nor lift my pinioned arms above,
In supplication to the throne of grace;
Hold, ruthless demon! for a little space.
Father of mercies! humbled to the dust,
I here confess the visitation just;
For I have sinned against thy truth and grace,
And thus before thee lowly bend my face;
Confusion seals my lips, and ties my tongue,
But oh! remember what thy prophet sung:
That “thou art merciful and gracious” still,
To all who bow submissive to thy will;
Still “slow to anger,” merciful as just,
Oh give me hope! remember I am dust;
Thou wilt not always chide, nor anger bear
To crush a wretch that pleads with thee in prayer;
For, like the royal bard, by truth convicted,
I feel “'t is good for me to be afflicted,
That I might learn thy statutes” and thy law,
Whence all my consolations now I draw.
For ere affliction's cloud obscured my day,
How oft temptations lured my steps astray!
But now I keep thy word with zealous fear,
Oh, with thy pard'ning mercy still be near,
According to thy loving-kindness, Lord,
As thou hast promised sinners in thy word;
Oh blot out my transgressions; wash my soul,
From its pollutions—make the leper whole.
Hear my petition! make me to know, once more,
The “joy and gladness” which I knew before;
So shall my “broken bones again rejoice,”
And I will praise thee with a grateful voice!
I here confess the visitation just;
For I have sinned against thy truth and grace,
And thus before thee lowly bend my face;
Confusion seals my lips, and ties my tongue,
But oh! remember what thy prophet sung:
That “thou art merciful and gracious” still,
To all who bow submissive to thy will;
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Oh give me hope! remember I am dust;
Thou wilt not always chide, nor anger bear
To crush a wretch that pleads with thee in prayer;
For, like the royal bard, by truth convicted,
I feel “'t is good for me to be afflicted,
That I might learn thy statutes” and thy law,
Whence all my consolations now I draw.
For ere affliction's cloud obscured my day,
How oft temptations lured my steps astray!
But now I keep thy word with zealous fear,
Oh, with thy pard'ning mercy still be near,
According to thy loving-kindness, Lord,
As thou hast promised sinners in thy word;
Oh blot out my transgressions; wash my soul,
From its pollutions—make the leper whole.
Hear my petition! make me to know, once more,
The “joy and gladness” which I knew before;
So shall my “broken bones again rejoice,”
And I will praise thee with a grateful voice!
BE WISE!
The graver moralist resumes his theme,To wake the soul from error's fatal dream;
To show the path which leads to solid bliss,
The happy goal which slaves of passion miss.
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PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION.
There is a Philosophy, hollow, unsound,
To matter confining its false speculations;
Whose flight is restrained within Nature's dull round,
Its pinions the web of sophistic persuasions.
To matter confining its false speculations;
Whose flight is restrained within Nature's dull round,
Its pinions the web of sophistic persuasions.
And there 's a Philosophy truly divine,
That traces effects up to spiritual causes,
Determines the link of the chain where they join,
And soars to an infinite height ere it pauses.
That traces effects up to spiritual causes,
Determines the link of the chain where they join,
And soars to an infinite height ere it pauses.
That meanly debases the image of God,
To rank with the brutes in the scale of creation;
This raises the tenant of light from the sod,
And bears him to heaven, his primitive station.
To rank with the brutes in the scale of creation;
This raises the tenant of light from the sod,
And bears him to heaven, his primitive station.
Hail, science of Angels! Theosophy, hail!
That shows us the regions of bliss by reflection;
Removes from creation's broad mirror the vail,
Where spirit and matter appear in connection.
That shows us the regions of bliss by reflection;
Removes from creation's broad mirror the vail,
Where spirit and matter appear in connection.
Its breaks on the soul in an ocean of light,
She starts from her lethargy stretches her pinions,
Beholds a new world bursting forth on her sight,
And, soaring in ecstacy, claims her dominions.
She starts from her lethargy stretches her pinions,
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And, soaring in ecstacy, claims her dominions.
A sense of original, dignified worth,
Her bosom expands with sublime exultation;
She tastes immortality even on earth,
In light that eclipses the sun's emanation.
Her bosom expands with sublime exultation;
She tastes immortality even on earth,
In light that eclipses the sun's emanation.
Be sages and pedants to nature confined,
As the bat darkly flutters in Luna's pale presence;
I'll soar, like the eagle, through regions of mind,
In the blaze of that Sun which is truth in its essence.
As the bat darkly flutters in Luna's pale presence;
I'll soar, like the eagle, through regions of mind,
In the blaze of that Sun which is truth in its essence.
WEEPING MARY.
IMITATED FROM THE LATIN, IN THE CATHOLIC PRAYER-BOOK.
Weeping Mary, bathed in sorrow,
Lingered near the scene of horror,
Where the dying Saviour hung;
From whose bursting heart arising,
Groans of anguish agonizing,
Floated e'er his fevered tongue!
Lingered near the scene of horror,
Where the dying Saviour hung;
From whose bursting heart arising,
Groans of anguish agonizing,
Floated e'er his fevered tongue!
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Oh what sorrow, deep, unbounded,
That maternal bosom wounded,
Once the Saviour's couch of rest!
How she wept to see him languish,
How she trembled for the anguish
Laboring in his guiltless breast!
That maternal bosom wounded,
Once the Saviour's couch of rest!
How she wept to see him languish,
How she trembled for the anguish
Laboring in his guiltless breast!
Who could witness, without weeping,
Gushing streams of sorrow sweeping
Down the mother's pallid cheek?
Who, with bosom unrelenting,
Could behold her thus lamenting,
Looking what no tongue could speak?
Gushing streams of sorrow sweeping
Down the mother's pallid cheek?
Who, with bosom unrelenting,
Could behold her thus lamenting,
Looking what no tongue could speak?
While such pangs as fiends invented,
Still her suffering Son tormented,
Scorn and bruises, stripes and death;
She beheld him thus expiring,
Human friends in fear retiring,
Whilst in groans he spent his breath!
Still her suffering Son tormented,
Scorn and bruises, stripes and death;
She beheld him thus expiring,
Human friends in fear retiring,
Whilst in groans he spent his breath!
Matchless mercy! love amazing!
Far above our feeble praising,
Far beyond our humble lays;
May its influence never vary,
Till my heart, like that of Mary,
Glow with a seraphic blaze.
Far above our feeble praising,
Far beyond our humble lays;
May its influence never vary,
Till my heart, like that of Mary,
Glow with a seraphic blaze.
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Gracious Saviour, now in glory!
Be this sad, affecting story
Deeply on thy soul imprest!
May the scene of such affliction,
Bring the hardest heart conviction,
Melt the most obdurate breast!
Be this sad, affecting story
Deeply on thy soul imprest!
May the scene of such affliction,
Bring the hardest heart conviction,
Melt the most obdurate breast!
NEW JERUSALEM.
Rich in mercy, Jesus reigns,
Heaven owns no other king;
Crown him, mortals, in your strains,
While his matchless grace you sing.
Angels wake their loftier lays,
Kindled from celestial fires,
Humbler spirits bid his praise
Sweetly flow from silver lyres.
Heaven owns no other king;
Crown him, mortals, in your strains,
While his matchless grace you sing.
Angels wake their loftier lays,
Kindled from celestial fires,
Humbler spirits bid his praise
Sweetly flow from silver lyres.
Mortals! catch the pleasing strain,
Gratitude demands the song—
Jesus builds his church again,
Where your Babel stood so long.
Truth divine her wall supports,
Love has paved her street with gold;
See her jasper towers and courts,
Gates of pearl that never fold.
Gratitude demands the song—
Jesus builds his church again,
Where your Babel stood so long.
Truth divine her wall supports,
Love has paved her street with gold;
See her jasper towers and courts,
Gates of pearl that never fold.
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Pilgrims! enter and rejoice—
Here your Saviour holds his throne;
'T is the City of his choice,
'T is the Church he calls his own.
Precious gems, on every side,
Lend new lustre to her charms—
'T is the Lamb's celestial Bride,
Smiling in her husband's arms.
Here your Saviour holds his throne;
'T is the City of his choice,
'T is the Church he calls his own.
Precious gems, on every side,
Lend new lustre to her charms—
'T is the Lamb's celestial Bride,
Smiling in her husband's arms.
REGENERATION.
“Blessed is the man who walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly,” &c.—
Psalm i., 1, 2, 3.
How happy the man who discards from his breast
The lusts and the passions which daily molest;
Who heeds not their counsel or softest persuasion,
But treats them as foes upon every occasion.
The lusts and the passions which daily molest;
Who heeds not their counsel or softest persuasion,
But treats them as foes upon every occasion.
Though the sunshine of peace such a bosom illume,
Or nights of temptation involve it in gloom;
Whatever his state be, with calm resignation,
He looks to the Word of his God for salvation.
Or nights of temptation involve it in gloom;
Whatever his state be, with calm resignation,
He looks to the Word of his God for salvation.
And the Word of his God, like a river of truth,
Gives each young-budding virtue the vigor of youth;
While practical love is still tempered by reason,
As the green leaflet decks the ripe fruit in its season.
Gives each young-budding virtue the vigor of youth;
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As the green leaflet decks the ripe fruit in its season.
Thus regeneration proceeds from the Word,
If we combat our evils, and trust in the Lord;
Then prosper, dear Saviour, each humble endeavor,
And thine be the glory, for ever and ever!
If we combat our evils, and trust in the Lord;
Then prosper, dear Saviour, each humble endeavor,
And thine be the glory, for ever and ever!
BRIGHT IS THE WORD.
Bright is the Word, 'tis light divine,
A Sun that will for ever shine,
To light us o'er the pathless sand,
From Egypt to the promised land.
Then swell the anthem to its Author's praise,
Who through the world extends its cheering rays.
A Sun that will for ever shine,
To light us o'er the pathless sand,
From Egypt to the promised land.
Then swell the anthem to its Author's praise,
Who through the world extends its cheering rays.
Clear is the Word, whose living stream,
Reflecting love's celestial beam,
Through every sterile desert rolls,
Imparting life to dying souls;
The tree of life adorns its verdant brink,
It flows to all—and all may freely drink.
Reflecting love's celestial beam,
Through every sterile desert rolls,
Imparting life to dying souls;
The tree of life adorns its verdant brink,
It flows to all—and all may freely drink.
Then let the grateful anthem rise
To God, the only good and wise,
Who bids the heathen hear his voice,
And in his boundless love rejoice.
The light shall spread, the bounteous river flow,
Till all the earth a Saviour's love shall know.
To God, the only good and wise,
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And in his boundless love rejoice.
The light shall spread, the bounteous river flow,
Till all the earth a Saviour's love shall know.
ON THE CONSECRATION OF A CHURCH.
Awake the organ's pealing tone,
And bid the grateful anthem swell,
To make Jehovah's goodness known,
And of his wondrous mercies tell.
And bid the grateful anthem swell,
To make Jehovah's goodness known,
And of his wondrous mercies tell.
Creator, Father, Saviour, Lord!
To raise from hell our fallen race
He gave himself—he gave his Word,
And gives us still his quick'ning grace.
To raise from hell our fallen race
He gave himself—he gave his Word,
And gives us still his quick'ning grace.
Here, when the seed of truth was cast,
His saw the tender, trembling shoot,
And screened it from the wintry blast—
The vine is his, and his the fruit.
His saw the tender, trembling shoot,
And screened it from the wintry blast—
The vine is his, and his the fruit.
'T was warmed by Love's celestial ray;
While lucid truths, like heavenly dew,
With liquid pearls begemmed the spray,
And like an Eden plant it grew.
While lucid truths, like heavenly dew,
With liquid pearls begemmed the spray,
And like an Eden plant it grew.
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This dawning year beholds it grown
A little vineyard. Lord, to thee
We yield the fruits—they are thine own:
The planter, thou—the laborers, we.
A little vineyard. Lord, to thee
We yield the fruits—they are thine own:
The planter, thou—the laborers, we.
This vineyard now in orders stands,
Thy laws of order are divine!
Accept this tribute at our hands—
Almighty God, the work was thine.
Thy laws of order are divine!
Accept this tribute at our hands—
Almighty God, the work was thine.
SEEK YE THE LORD.
Ye sons of men, come, seek the Lord,
While yet he may be found;
II'll meet you in his holy Word,
Where love and truth abound.
While yet he may be found;
II'll meet you in his holy Word,
Where love and truth abound.
Call on him while he yet is near
To hear a sinner's call;
A humble penitential tear
Will never vainly fall.
To hear a sinner's call;
A humble penitential tear
Will never vainly fall.
Let man forsake the sinner's road,
Discard each vicious thought,
Return to Jesus, as his God,
And be by Jesus taught;
Discard each vicious thought,
Return to Jesus, as his God,
And be by Jesus taught;
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Then will the Lord his mercy show,
His pardon freely give;
Then man his only good will know,
And in that knowledge live.
His pardon freely give;
Then man his only good will know,
And in that knowledge live.
“FATHER, THOU ART GOOD!”
“If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your father which is in heaven, give good things to them that ask him!”—
Matt. vii., 11.
My youngest boy, just five years old,
Entered my room the other day,
Who, just before, I had been told,
Had something which he wished to say.
With modest grace, he made his bow,
I marked the tear-drop in his eye,
And kindly asked him—“Well, what now?”
When, sobbing, thus he made reply:—
“I found that peach delicious food!
And I enjoyed it, while at play;
My dear papa, oh, you are good!
And that is what I had to say.”
Entered my room the other day,
Who, just before, I had been told,
Had something which he wished to say.
With modest grace, he made his bow,
I marked the tear-drop in his eye,
And kindly asked him—“Well, what now?”
When, sobbing, thus he made reply:—
“I found that peach delicious food!
And I enjoyed it, while at play;
My dear papa, oh, you are good!
And that is what I had to say.”
It was the gush of gratitude
That tuned his voice and filled his eye;
“Father of mercies! thou art good
To all who dwell beneath the sky.”
This child has taught me how to pray,
And how express my thanks to thee;
What better language can we say,
Than what this infant said to me?
That tuned his voice and filled his eye;
“Father of mercies! thou art good
To all who dwell beneath the sky.”
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And how express my thanks to thee;
What better language can we say,
Than what this infant said to me?
“Father of mercies, thou art good!”
Is language fraught with filial love,
Glowing with heartfelt gratitude,
An incense which thou wilt approve.
Oh, grant me grace to breathe it still,
When I would speak my gratitude
For blessings which my goblet fill—
“Father of mercies, thou art good!”
Is language fraught with filial love,
Glowing with heartfelt gratitude,
An incense which thou wilt approve.
Oh, grant me grace to breathe it still,
When I would speak my gratitude
For blessings which my goblet fill—
“Father of mercies, thou art good!”
THE WIDOW.
We parted: oh! it was a painful hour!
Not that I thought him lost to me for ever,
I knew that mighty love's resistless power
Would re-unite us, ne'er again to sever;
For we are wedded—not as thoughtless mortals,
Incited only by terrestial views,
Enter that sacred fane's mysterious portals.
Our souls are wedded; that assurance strews
My widowed path with flowers of fadeless hues.
Not that I thought him lost to me for ever,
I knew that mighty love's resistless power
Would re-unite us, ne'er again to sever;
For we are wedded—not as thoughtless mortals,
Incited only by terrestial views,
Enter that sacred fane's mysterious portals.
Our souls are wedded; that assurance strews
My widowed path with flowers of fadeless hues.
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Yet is the briefest parting hard; for love,
Deprived of wisdom, is a rayless sun;
A summer midnight, when no star above
Throws down one cheering ray; 't is GOOD, alone,
Without her partner TRUTH; or it resembles
Warm melting CHARITY, intent to bless,
When without FAITH to guide her steps, she trembles
O'er the dark scene of human wretchedness,
Wondering if Heaven permits or wills distress.
Deprived of wisdom, is a rayless sun;
A summer midnight, when no star above
Throws down one cheering ray; 't is GOOD, alone,
Without her partner TRUTH; or it resembles
Warm melting CHARITY, intent to bless,
When without FAITH to guide her steps, she trembles
O'er the dark scene of human wretchedness,
Wondering if Heaven permits or wills distress.
'T was hard to part; and while his spirit hovered
On the cold lips my kisses could not warm,
I prayed and murmured; but, alas! when covered
By the dark pall, they bore that manly form
To its cold grave, I lost the pang of sorrow,
For reason fled, and I 'd a dreamless sleep;
But woke, in anguish, on the coming morrow,
No more to murmur, pray, or even weep,
For grief is ever silent when it 's deep.
On the cold lips my kisses could not warm,
I prayed and murmured; but, alas! when covered
By the dark pall, they bore that manly form
To its cold grave, I lost the pang of sorrow,
For reason fled, and I 'd a dreamless sleep;
But woke, in anguish, on the coming morrow,
No more to murmur, pray, or even weep,
For grief is ever silent when it 's deep.
Humbled to earth, my self-upbraiding soul,
With mental tongue, exclaimed, Thy will be done!
When, through my bosom, such a feeling stole
As mocks the power of language; it was one
Of those delicious thrills of nameless rapture
We feel, when conscience, Heaven, and friends approve;
When earthly joys have lost their power to capture;
For Reuben's spirit whispered, “Peace, sweet dove,
We're joined for ever, in Conjugial Love.
With mental tongue, exclaimed, Thy will be done!
When, through my bosom, such a feeling stole
As mocks the power of language; it was one
Of those delicious thrills of nameless rapture
We feel, when conscience, Heaven, and friends approve;
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For Reuben's spirit whispered, “Peace, sweet dove,
We're joined for ever, in Conjugial Love.
From the Latin term conjugiale, a higher degree of union than is understood by the term conjugal, which is from the Latin word conjugale.
SUNDAY-SCHOOL HYMN.
O Thou, whose eye, with mercy mild,
Surveys the sinner's bended knee,
Thou, who wast once a little child,
As tender and as young as we;
Dear Jesus, Saviour, Father, Friend,
To thee our lisping tongues would raise—
While humbly at thy feet we bend—
A song of gratitude and praise.
Surveys the sinner's bended knee,
Thou, who wast once a little child,
As tender and as young as we;
Dear Jesus, Saviour, Father, Friend,
To thee our lisping tongues would raise—
While humbly at thy feet we bend—
A song of gratitude and praise.
'T was thy creating Word that made
All things below and all above,
Where we admiring see displayed
Thy matchless wisdom, power, and love.
'T was thy redeeming love that raised,
Our souls from ruin, sin, and wo;
Then let thy holy name be praised,
By all good children here below.
All things below and all above,
Where we admiring see displayed
Thy matchless wisdom, power, and love.
'T was thy redeeming love that raised,
Our souls from ruin, sin, and wo;
Then let thy holy name be praised,
By all good children here below.
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And may those hearts thy love inclined
To bless our souls with heavenly light,
To pour instructions o'er the mind,
Enshrined in ignorance and night—
May they enjoy a rich reward,
In conscious virtue's sweet repast;
Oh bless them while on earth, dear Lord,
And take them to thyself at last.
To bless our souls with heavenly light,
To pour instructions o'er the mind,
Enshrined in ignorance and night—
May they enjoy a rich reward,
In conscious virtue's sweet repast;
Oh bless them while on earth, dear Lord,
And take them to thyself at last.
ON HEARING A SERMON ON THE PLEASURES OF RELIGION.
When o'er the sacred desk, with modest grace
And lowly meekness, bends thy reverend form,
While the great theme that animates thy face,
Bids every bosom glow with transport warm—
And lowly meekness, bends thy reverend form,
While the great theme that animates thy face,
Bids every bosom glow with transport warm—
How could I listen to the heavenly theme,
Forget the pleasures that entice me here,
Think human life a transitory dream,
And wish, with thee, to gain a higher sphere!
Forget the pleasures that entice me here,
Think human life a transitory dream,
And wish, with thee, to gain a higher sphere!
Go on, thou champion in the cause of truth,
Armed by thy Saviour, still the foe engage;
Still charm from vice the steps of ardent youth,
And strew with rosy hopes the path of age.
Armed by thy Saviour, still the foe engage;
Still charm from vice the steps of ardent youth,
And strew with rosy hopes the path of age.
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FAITH.
My little girl, the other day,
(Three years of age a month ago,)
Wounded her finger while at play,
And saw the crimson fluid flow.
With pleading optics, raining tears,
She sought my aid, in terror wild;
I smiling said, “Dismiss your fears,
And all shall soon be well, my child.”
Her little bosom ceased to swell,
While she replied with calmer brow,
“I know that you can make it well,
But how, papa?—I do n't see how.”
(Three years of age a month ago,)
Wounded her finger while at play,
And saw the crimson fluid flow.
With pleading optics, raining tears,
She sought my aid, in terror wild;
I smiling said, “Dismiss your fears,
And all shall soon be well, my child.”
Her little bosom ceased to swell,
While she replied with calmer brow,
“I know that you can make it well,
But how, papa?—I do n't see how.”
Our children oft instruct us thus;
For succor, or for recompense,
They look with confidence to us,
As we should look to Providence.
For each infantile doubt and fear,
And every little childish grief,
Is uttered to a parent's ear,
With full assurance of relief.
A grateful sense of favors past,
Incites them to petition now,
With faith in succor to the last,
Although they can 't imagine how.
For succor, or for recompense,
They look with confidence to us,
As we should look to Providence.
For each infantile doubt and fear,
And every little childish grief,
Is uttered to a parent's ear,
With full assurance of relief.
A grateful sense of favors past,
Incites them to petition now,
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Although they can 't imagine how.
And shall I doubtingly repine,
When clouds of dark affliction lower?
A tenderer Father still is mine,
Of greater mercy, love, and power:
He clothes the lily, feeds the dove,
The meanest insect feels his care;
And shall not man confess his love,
Man, his own offspring, and his heir?
Yes, though he slay, I'll trust him still,
And still with resignation bow;
He may relieve, he can, he will—
Although I can not yet see how.
When clouds of dark affliction lower?
A tenderer Father still is mine,
Of greater mercy, love, and power:
He clothes the lily, feeds the dove,
The meanest insect feels his care;
And shall not man confess his love,
Man, his own offspring, and his heir?
Yes, though he slay, I'll trust him still,
And still with resignation bow;
He may relieve, he can, he will—
Although I can not yet see how.
THE SOLAR SYSTEM.
Behold yon orbs, in paths harmonious, run
Their destined courses round the parent sun;
Grand correspondent of that Sun above,
Whose light is wisdom, and whose heat is love.
There terra rolls—a speck upon the sky,
Less than a speck to some more distant eye;
Suppose, that on the surface of that ball
Myriads of little thinking insects crawl,
Whose trembling spark of life, at longest, burns
While round the sun they make an hundred turns
And then expire; suppose your eye could trace
The various movements of this tiny race;
Suppose you saw a few ambitious mites
Attempt to lord it o'er their fellows' rights;
Or viewed a host, who placed their hope and trust
In hoarding glittering grains of yellow dust;
Or thousands, whose ambition but aspired
To see their gaudy hues awhile admired;
Or millions, whose less innocent intents,
Concentrate in the groveling joys of sense—
Would you not think they marred their Maker's plan?
Then blush, proud mortal—such, alas! is man:
Such follies, or such crimes, apply to all
The busy insects of our native ball—
And were not aid divine in mercy given,
Each had for ever lost his destined heaven.
Their destined courses round the parent sun;
Grand correspondent of that Sun above,
Whose light is wisdom, and whose heat is love.
There terra rolls—a speck upon the sky,
Less than a speck to some more distant eye;
Suppose, that on the surface of that ball
Myriads of little thinking insects crawl,
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While round the sun they make an hundred turns
And then expire; suppose your eye could trace
The various movements of this tiny race;
Suppose you saw a few ambitious mites
Attempt to lord it o'er their fellows' rights;
Or viewed a host, who placed their hope and trust
In hoarding glittering grains of yellow dust;
Or thousands, whose ambition but aspired
To see their gaudy hues awhile admired;
Or millions, whose less innocent intents,
Concentrate in the groveling joys of sense—
Would you not think they marred their Maker's plan?
Then blush, proud mortal—such, alas! is man:
Such follies, or such crimes, apply to all
The busy insects of our native ball—
And were not aid divine in mercy given,
Each had for ever lost his destined heaven.
But think not, vainly, that the human race
Is limited to such contracted space;
Dream not that those bright orbs were set on high,
To run their various courses through the sky,
For ornament alone—ignoble thought,
To reason listen, and be better taught!
Know that Eternal Love conceived the plan,
And love eternal rests at last on man;
For each effect its energies produce,
Is wrought by wisdom, and its end is use;
Hence learn that every moving, twinkling light
That decks the azure vault of heaven at night,
Is round a central sun resistless hurled,
Itself a ponderous globe—a peopled world:
A world, perhaps, unstained by crime or blood,
Where social love prefers its neighbor's good;
Where every joy derives its sweetest zest
From the fond wish of making others blest;
Where heaven-born charity exerts her powers—
A world of bliss, as man might render ours.
Such peopled orbs in countless numbers fly
In never-varying order through the sky;
And all with one accordant voice proclaim,
The power which made and still supports thei frame.
Is limited to such contracted space;
Dream not that those bright orbs were set on high,
To run their various courses through the sky,
For ornament alone—ignoble thought,
To reason listen, and be better taught!
Know that Eternal Love conceived the plan,
And love eternal rests at last on man;
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Is wrought by wisdom, and its end is use;
Hence learn that every moving, twinkling light
That decks the azure vault of heaven at night,
Is round a central sun resistless hurled,
Itself a ponderous globe—a peopled world:
A world, perhaps, unstained by crime or blood,
Where social love prefers its neighbor's good;
Where every joy derives its sweetest zest
From the fond wish of making others blest;
Where heaven-born charity exerts her powers—
A world of bliss, as man might render ours.
Such peopled orbs in countless numbers fly
In never-varying order through the sky;
And all with one accordant voice proclaim,
The power which made and still supports thei frame.
Presumptuous Atheist! if such wretch exist,
Can thy vain reasoning proofs like these resist?
Say, can these planets, in harmonious dance,
Perform their revolutions thus by chance?
Perish the thought!—rise from thy native clod
Renounce thy error, and confess a God!
For though with every mortal honor clad,
“An undevout Astronomer is mad;”
Conviction seals thy lips—presume no more,
But in mute wonder tremble and adore.
Can thy vain reasoning proofs like these resist?
Say, can these planets, in harmonious dance,
Perform their revolutions thus by chance?
Perish the thought!—rise from thy native clod
Renounce thy error, and confess a God!
For though with every mortal honor clad,
“An undevout Astronomer is mad;”
Conviction seals thy lips—presume no more,
But in mute wonder tremble and adore.
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MY MOTHER'S GRAVE.
WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY BURIAL-PLACE, IN SCITUATE, MASSACHUSETTS.
[A JUVENILE PRODUCTION.]
Aurora paints the orient skies with light,
With rosy pencil tinges every cloud,
Unfolds her gates upon the rear of Night,
And strips the mountains of his sable shroud.
With rosy pencil tinges every cloud,
Unfolds her gates upon the rear of Night,
And strips the mountains of his sable shroud.
The conscious stars conceal their twinkling fires,
Night's waning impress turns more sickly pale,
Her votary the whizzing bat retires,
The owl suspends her harsh complaining tale.
Night's waning impress turns more sickly pale,
Her votary the whizzing bat retires,
The owl suspends her harsh complaining tale.
The lark awakes and tunes his matin song,
And all the sylvan warblers join the theme;
The whistling ploughman drives his team along,
And sporting swans sail stately down the stream.
And all the sylvan warblers join the theme;
The whistling ploughman drives his team along,
And sporting swans sail stately down the stream.
Adieu, dull couch! for Nature more can please,
While o'er her rich enamelled breast I stray,
Inhaling sweets which freight the balmy breeze,
Stolen in kisses from the lips of May.
While o'er her rich enamelled breast I stray,
Inhaling sweets which freight the balmy breeze,
Stolen in kisses from the lips of May.
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The peach-bloom in the breathing zephyr plays,
And shakes soft odors from its silken leaves;
The apple, too, a silver garb displays,
Whence morning's breath a rich perfume receives.
And shakes soft odors from its silken leaves;
The apple, too, a silver garb displays,
Whence morning's breath a rich perfume receives.
Here let me stray, adown this mossy ridge;
Observe yon streamlet o'er the pebbles creep;
Pass o'er its little, rude-constructed bridge,
To where, in silence, all our fathers sleep.
Observe yon streamlet o'er the pebbles creep;
Pass o'er its little, rude-constructed bridge,
To where, in silence, all our fathers sleep.
Oh may I never pass this sacred spot,
Unmindful of the dust these walls enclose:
For here, partaking in the common lot,
A tender Mother's relics find repose!
Unmindful of the dust these walls enclose:
For here, partaking in the common lot,
A tender Mother's relics find repose!
Here various stones, on various models planned,
Discriminate between the rich and poor;
Some richly sculptured by an artist's hand,
Some rudely lettered, and adorned no more.
Discriminate between the rich and poor;
Some richly sculptured by an artist's hand,
Some rudely lettered, and adorned no more.
But filial love and sorrow soon discern
The humble state they consecrated here;
The drooping willow weeping o'er the urn,
The quoted motto, and the name most dear.
The humble state they consecrated here;
The drooping willow weeping o'er the urn,
The quoted motto, and the name most dear.
Yes 't is the same—beneath this turfy heap
Lowly reclines the form which gave me birth;
Those arms, the cradle of my earliest sleep,
Are nerveless now, and mingling with the earth.
Lowly reclines the form which gave me birth;
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Are nerveless now, and mingling with the earth.
Those lips, whose accents could my cares remove,
Are sealed in silence, stiffened, cold, and dead!
Those eyes, which beamed with fond, maternal love,
Are closed in darkness, and their lustre fled.
Are sealed in silence, stiffened, cold, and dead!
Those eyes, which beamed with fond, maternal love,
Are closed in darkness, and their lustre fled.
Oh, dear departed! venerable shade!
If earthly objects can thy notice claim,
Accept the tribute filial love has paid,
The pearly gem that glitters on thy name.
If earthly objects can thy notice claim,
Accept the tribute filial love has paid,
The pearly gem that glitters on thy name.
Though five sad years their destined course have run,
Since death confined thy mortal body here,
Yet can not thy poor, sorrowing, orphan son,
Review the spot unmoistened with a tear.
Since death confined thy mortal body here,
Yet can not thy poor, sorrowing, orphan son,
Review the spot unmoistened with a tear.
Hard fate forbade, when nature's tenderest ties
Where severed by the lingering stroke of death,
That filial love should close thy sunken eyes,
Or from thy lips to kiss the parting breath.
Where severed by the lingering stroke of death,
That filial love should close thy sunken eyes,
Or from thy lips to kiss the parting breath.
Forgive thy son, indulgent parent, this,
As he forgives the fate he could not move;
Though oft in duty he has been remiss,
This last neglect was not from want of love.
As he forgives the fate he could not move;
Though oft in duty he has been remiss,
This last neglect was not from want of love.
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For, weeks before, when wasting nature knew
The struggle fruitless for her forfeit breath,
Thy wish I heard, and with impatience flew
To kiss thy cheek before it sunk in death.
The struggle fruitless for her forfeit breath,
Thy wish I heard, and with impatience flew
To kiss thy cheek before it sunk in death.
When faithful memory recalls with pain
This last, sad duty which I paid to thee—
A final parting, ne'er to meet again,
Till from the world and its corruptions free—
This last, sad duty which I paid to thee—
A final parting, ne'er to meet again,
Till from the world and its corruptions free—
I feel the son in all my moving soul;
How truly so, these starting tears reveal;
The sacred drops shall meet with no control!
Affection's tear what son would e'er conceal?
How truly so, these starting tears reveal;
The sacred drops shall meet with no control!
Affection's tear what son would e'er conceal?
Then was the mother all alive in thee;
What wholesome counsel from thy lips I drew—
Which in my breast shall ever treasured be—
The only legacy I had from you!
What wholesome counsel from thy lips I drew—
Which in my breast shall ever treasured be—
The only legacy I had from you!
Since then, dear parent, Joy has seldom smiled
Upon thy son—severe has been his fate—
The world was new—an inexperienced child
Its friendship sought—but only gained its hate!
Upon thy son—severe has been his fate—
The world was new—an inexperienced child
Its friendship sought—but only gained its hate!
He hoped from Fortune but a cheering smile,
But like the world she frowned upon his claim;
He then pursued a fleeting shade awhile—
But broke a bubble when he grasped at Fame!
But like the world she frowned upon his claim;
He then pursued a fleeting shade awhile—
But broke a bubble when he grasped at Fame!
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His only respite, now, from mental pain,
Is o'er his native rural scenes to roam;
A view of this sequestered spot to gain,
Or when away to think of thee and home!
Is o'er his native rural scenes to roam;
A view of this sequestered spot to gain,
Or when away to think of thee and home!
The green turf swells above thy mouldering clay,
The moss has strewed it with the softest felt;
The violets here their loveliest hues display,
To deck the bed on which he oft has knelt.
The moss has strewed it with the softest felt;
The violets here their loveliest hues display,
To deck the bed on which he oft has knelt.
This humble stone, which fond affection placed,
To mark the spot, and to preserve thy name,
Though by a rude, unlettered artist traced,
On his regard has more than marble's claim.
To mark the spot, and to preserve thy name,
Though by a rude, unlettered artist traced,
On his regard has more than marble's claim.
Sacred to thee for ever may it stand;
Forbear, O Time! the tablet to destroy,
Whose lay disarms the king of terror's hand—
“Death is the gate to everlasting joy.”
Forbear, O Time! the tablet to destroy,
Whose lay disarms the king of terror's hand—
“Death is the gate to everlasting joy.”
This truth believed, no more shall baseless fear
Attend the word that speaks of leaving earth;
We seek for happiness—it dwells not here;
In heaven alone are joys of lasting worth.
Attend the word that speaks of leaving earth;
We seek for happiness—it dwells not here;
In heaven alone are joys of lasting worth.
Here some repose who scarce received their birth,
Ere death consigned them to the silent tomb;
Small, though sufficient, is their lot of earth—
The flowers, transplanted, will for ever bloom.
Ere death consigned them to the silent tomb;
Small, though sufficient, is their lot of earth—
The flowers, transplanted, will for ever bloom.
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No age is free from Death's insatiate bow,
His shafts are levelled, and his victims fall!
The rose of infancy, or fourscore snow,
Alike avail not, he must conquer all.
His shafts are levelled, and his victims fall!
The rose of infancy, or fourscore snow,
Alike avail not, he must conquer all.
Those rustic biers against the wall reclined,
The wasting bearers of the archer's prey,
Impress this serious truth upon the mind—
Existence is not certain for a day!
The wasting bearers of the archer's prey,
Impress this serious truth upon the mind—
Existence is not certain for a day!
How oft this pious, all-important theme
Hast thou impressed upon thy list'ning boy,
My much-loved mother!—but the playful dream
Of childhood, pictured only scenes of joy.
Hast thou impressed upon thy list'ning boy,
My much-loved mother!—but the playful dream
Of childhood, pictured only scenes of joy.
Then would we come, my little sisters too,
And one fond brother, through this yard to stray;
Our destined beds beneath the sod to view,
Survey these stones, and read the uncouth lay.
And one fond brother, through this yard to stray;
Our destined beds beneath the sod to view,
Survey these stones, and read the uncouth lay.
Then, as the shades of evening veiled the plains,
Back to yon mansion we would gayly stroll,
The humble benefice which still sustains
The careful guardian of the Christian soul.
Back to yon mansion we would gayly stroll,
The humble benefice which still sustains
The careful guardian of the Christian soul.
Beneath that roof I first inhaled the air,
Poor were my parents, hard they earned their bread,
Rich only in a reputation fair,
And owned no mansion where to lay the head.
Poor were my parents, hard they earned their bread,
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And owned no mansion where to lay the head.
Along yon streamlet, where the whisp'ring reeds
And fragrant flags upon its borders play,
Where through those cedars it meand'ring leads,
My infant footsteps first were taught to stray.
And fragrant flags upon its borders play,
Where through those cedars it meand'ring leads,
My infant footsteps first were taught to stray.
And how a mother's tender, anxious care,
Has oft deprived me of this little joy!
The last love-pledge of this connubial pair,
Their fears were ever wakeful for the boy.
Has oft deprived me of this little joy!
The last love-pledge of this connubial pair,
Their fears were ever wakeful for the boy.
The sylvan muse enticed me to her cell,
My childish fingers wantoned o'er her lyre—
Bade the rude strain, untaught, to wildly swell,
While to the sound each throbbing pulse beat higher.
My childish fingers wantoned o'er her lyre—
Bade the rude strain, untaught, to wildly swell,
While to the sound each throbbing pulse beat higher.
Then as I grew and learned to sweep the strings
By art directed, though less sweetly wild,
I envied not the happiest of kings,
My lyre was bliss, and I a happy child.
By art directed, though less sweetly wild,
I envied not the happiest of kings,
My lyre was bliss, and I a happy child.
But why recount the joys of childhood o'er?
That happy state with all its joys has fled!
As fade the beauties of the tender flower,
When Winter beats upon its drooping head.
That happy state with all its joys has fled!
As fade the beauties of the tender flower,
When Winter beats upon its drooping head.
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But see! the ocean sparkles on the sight,
What lovely hues upon its surface play!
The liquid mirror streams with dazzling light,
Reflecting from the rising god of day.
What lovely hues upon its surface play!
The liquid mirror streams with dazzling light,
Reflecting from the rising god of day.
He comes! and Nature hails his gladd'ning beams,
New life pervades her animated part;
Nor less improved the vegetable seems,
Its charms increase, and laugh at mimic art.
New life pervades her animated part;
Nor less improved the vegetable seems,
Its charms increase, and laugh at mimic art.
Not long ago, adown the western skies
He sank, and left the mourning world in gloom;
But only sank at night, again to rise,
In tenfold splendor, from his watery tomb.
He sank, and left the mourning world in gloom;
But only sank at night, again to rise,
In tenfold splendor, from his watery tomb.
So, though we sink beneath the verdant sod,
And leave our friends in mounful weeds and tears,
We only sink to rise and dwell with God
An age unmeasured by successive years.
And leave our friends in mounful weeds and tears,
We only sink to rise and dwell with God
An age unmeasured by successive years.
There we shall meet, dear mother, yet again!
Thou art but gone before a little while;
There joy is endless, unalloyed with pain,
There an eternal round of summers smile.
Thou art but gone before a little while;
There joy is endless, unalloyed with pain,
There an eternal round of summers smile.
Fly swift, ye winged hours, and be my lot
To count but few, ere death shall aim the dart;
Then lowly let me rest beneath this spot,
And lose the anguish of an aching heart.
To count but few, ere death shall aim the dart;
Then lowly let me rest beneath this spot,
And lose the anguish of an aching heart.
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Short be my life, yet then, if sorrows count,
A lengthened age should clothe my head in snow;
Oh could my virtues gain but their amount,
Perfection would have once been found below.
A lengthened age should clothe my head in snow;
Oh could my virtues gain but their amount,
Perfection would have once been found below.
Adieu, dear spot! necessity commands
The youth who loves you far from hence away!
But while a thought of home his breast expands,
Your dear remembrance never can decay!
The youth who loves you far from hence away!
But while a thought of home his breast expands,
Your dear remembrance never can decay!
SHE IS NOT HERE.
She is not here—'t is but her veil of clay
That moulders into dust beneath this stone;
Mary herself, in realms of endless day,
Has put a robe of fadeless glory on.
That moulders into dust beneath this stone;
Mary herself, in realms of endless day,
Has put a robe of fadeless glory on.
This monumental urn is not designed
To tell of beauties withering in the tomb;
Her brightest charms were centred in a mind
Which still survives, and will for ever bloom.
To tell of beauties withering in the tomb;
Her brightest charms were centred in a mind
Which still survives, and will for ever bloom.
Yet may this marble teach the solemn truth.
That virtue only can true bliss impart;
While neither friendship, beauty, health, nor youth,
Can shield the breast from death's insatiate dart.
That virtue only can true bliss impart;
While neither friendship, beauty, health, nor youth,
Can shield the breast from death's insatiate dart.
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ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD.
In life's parterre, what numerous germs discloseThe loveliest tints, the sweetest blushing dyes!
The enraptured florist views the opening rose,
Screens it from every ruder wind that blows,
And richer future charms in embryo espies.
But, ah! the spoiler stalks abroad, whose breath
Is pestilence, whose chilling touch is death!
With merciless hand he crops the flower,
And all its promised beauty flies—
It falls beneath his baneful power,
Its sweets are scattered in an hour;
It shrinks, it withers, droops, and dies.
Yet, mourn not, ye, whose fostering love and care
To culture a beloved plant has failed;
'T is but transplanted to a garden, where
Eternal summer smiles; 't will flourish there
In living hues, by spoilers unassailed.
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ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.
Almighty God! 'tis right, 'tis just,
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, ah! forgive the wishful tear,
That would detain a spirit here.
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, ah! forgive the wishful tear,
That would detain a spirit here.
Go, gentle babe, to realms of bliss,
The chastening rod we humbly kiss;
Thy Saviour calls thee home, my son,
And let his holy will be done.
The chastening rod we humbly kiss;
Thy Saviour calls thee home, my son,
And let his holy will be done.
Thy earthly form, now icy cold,
Was framed in beauty's fairest mould;
But now, prepared by love divine,
A fairer, brighter form is thine.
Was framed in beauty's fairest mould;
But now, prepared by love divine,
A fairer, brighter form is thine.
Thy earthly parents loved thee well—
So much, that language fails to tell;
But, ah! our love was weak and poor,
Thy heavenly Parent loves thee more.
So much, that language fails to tell;
But, ah! our love was weak and poor,
Thy heavenly Parent loves thee more.
Here, thou wert tenderly caressed,
Upon a fond maternal breast;
But angel-nurses, forms of love,
Shall now caress my babe above.
Upon a fond maternal breast;
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Shall now caress my babe above.
Fain would paternal love have taught
Thy little opening world of thought;
But we the pleasing task resign
To heavenly schools, and books divine.
Thy little opening world of thought;
But we the pleasing task resign
To heavenly schools, and books divine.
'T was all our thoughts and wishes still
To guard our darling here from ill;
But that great God who called thee home,
Has saved from greater ills to come.
To guard our darling here from ill;
But that great God who called thee home,
Has saved from greater ills to come.
Then let us hush the rising sigh,
And bid affliction's tear be dry;
Our child still lives, his sorrows o'er,
Where we shall meet to part no more.
And bid affliction's tear be dry;
Our child still lives, his sorrows o'er,
Where we shall meet to part no more.
There, shall the sweet maternal kiss,
Increase his joy—enhance his bliss;
There, through redeeming love and grace,
The father shall his son embrace.
Increase his joy—enhance his bliss;
There, through redeeming love and grace,
The father shall his son embrace.
Almighty God! 't is right, 't is just,
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, oh! the sweet, transporting truth—
The soul shall bloom in endless youth.
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, oh! the sweet, transporting truth—
The soul shall bloom in endless youth.
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FLORIAN—A MONODY.
My lyre, which erst to friendship tuned, I woke
In strains the sacred theme inspired,
While with its flame the glowing chords were fired,
Ah! sad exchange! the tie of friendship broke,
By death dissolved, must make its sadder theme!
While every falling note with wo shall teem!
To Florian's early fate the muse shall pay
Sincere affection's purest lay;
The emanation of a grief-fraught soul,
The real feelings of an honest heart,
Unfeigned, and unadorned by art,
Who all her paler hues from Nature stole.
In strains the sacred theme inspired,
While with its flame the glowing chords were fired,
Ah! sad exchange! the tie of friendship broke,
By death dissolved, must make its sadder theme!
While every falling note with wo shall teem!
To Florian's early fate the muse shall pay
Sincere affection's purest lay;
The emanation of a grief-fraught soul,
The real feelings of an honest heart,
Unfeigned, and unadorned by art,
Who all her paler hues from Nature stole.
Ye youths, ye virgin train,
Whose eyes to his responsive smiled,
When festive rites the hours beguiled,
With me complain!
Me, whom the closer link of friendship joined
To his expanded heart—where truth, combined
With every glowing grace, superior shone;
With me commingle sympathetic tears,
While faithful Memory shall own
His worth, his virtues, past!
She bids retrace the journey of his years,
Review the path, nor see a blemish cast.
Whose eyes to his responsive smiled,
When festive rites the hours beguiled,
With me complain!
Me, whom the closer link of friendship joined
To his expanded heart—where truth, combined
With every glowing grace, superior shone;
With me commingle sympathetic tears,
230
His worth, his virtues, past!
She bids retrace the journey of his years,
Review the path, nor see a blemish cast.
Flushed by the balmy spring of youth, he rose,
In life's parterre, a flower of fairest hue;
Denied affection's fostering, pearly dew,
Parental sunshine—yet his tints disclose
Beauty internal—fragrance all his own;
Benevolence conspicuous shone,
And nectared charity distilled
In grateful odors!—Who beheld him bloom
And yet their love withheld?
Who, could they have foreseen his early doom,
But would have shed anticipated tears;
Withheld the victim from the insatiate tomb,
If prayers could hold, for many, many years?
In life's parterre, a flower of fairest hue;
Denied affection's fostering, pearly dew,
Parental sunshine—yet his tints disclose
Beauty internal—fragrance all his own;
Benevolence conspicuous shone,
And nectared charity distilled
In grateful odors!—Who beheld him bloom
And yet their love withheld?
Who, could they have foreseen his early doom,
But would have shed anticipated tears;
Withheld the victim from the insatiate tomb,
If prayers could hold, for many, many years?
But prayers, nor youth, nor virtue, nought avail
Against diseases, ministers of death!
The tyrant claims our forfeit breath,
And who his claim withstands? Entreaties fail!
One gift alone can make us scorn the foe,
Though not his shaft evade;
The heavenly gift our Saviour brought below,
Religion, sweet, celestial maid!
Against diseases, ministers of death!
The tyrant claims our forfeit breath,
And who his claim withstands? Entreaties fail!
One gift alone can make us scorn the foe,
Though not his shaft evade;
The heavenly gift our Saviour brought below,
Religion, sweet, celestial maid!
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By thee sustained, the darkened path grows bright,
And leads to realms of everlasting light!
Cease, then, my tears, to flow,
Cease, sighs, to murmur wo,
This peerless guide my friend secured,
While he the ills of life endured;
Cheered by a seraph's song,
The youth she led along
The gloomy path—its roughness fled,
And Terror hid his grisly head;
The gate of Paradise displayed
Cherubs in robes of light arrayed:
And songs re-echoed through the empyreal dome,
As heavenly minstrels hailed him welcome home!
And leads to realms of everlasting light!
Cease, then, my tears, to flow,
Cease, sighs, to murmur wo,
This peerless guide my friend secured,
While he the ills of life endured;
Cheered by a seraph's song,
The youth she led along
The gloomy path—its roughness fled,
And Terror hid his grisly head;
The gate of Paradise displayed
Cherubs in robes of light arrayed:
And songs re-echoed through the empyreal dome,
As heavenly minstrels hailed him welcome home!
But selfish Sorrow will intrude—
The loss is ours—and Nature will be heard
Till Sorrow is subdued
By cooler Reason's unimpassioned sway;
The worth we loved, the virtues we revered,
We must lament when torn away.
So young, to fall! but youth, as hoary age,
Finds no respect! The infant dies
When scarcely entered on the stage;
His part to ope, and then to close his eyes.
Some claim a longer scene, and bustle round
Their little walk, with rant and sound;
The curtain drops, and they are seen no more!
Few labor onward through the tedious play
Till life's allotted, farthest verge is o'er,
Then fall like fruit when autumn melts away.
Thus is it ordered, Order's Source to please;
Who will impeach his infinite decrees?
The loss is ours—and Nature will be heard
Till Sorrow is subdued
By cooler Reason's unimpassioned sway;
The worth we loved, the virtues we revered,
We must lament when torn away.
So young, to fall! but youth, as hoary age,
Finds no respect! The infant dies
When scarcely entered on the stage;
His part to ope, and then to close his eyes.
Some claim a longer scene, and bustle round
Their little walk, with rant and sound;
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Few labor onward through the tedious play
Till life's allotted, farthest verge is o'er,
Then fall like fruit when autumn melts away.
Thus is it ordered, Order's Source to please;
Who will impeach his infinite decrees?
Granted, 't is just—yet sympathy must weep—
To see him hastening to the silent dead
Without a kindred tear of sorrow shed!
Nor bosom where to fall asleep!
Nor hand to close his eyes!
Strangers that mournful task performed!
Yet strangers here were friends; their tears, their sighs,
From bosoms flowed by purest feelings warmed.
Friends tied by nature could no more;
Nor more sincerely such a loss deplore.
Might fond fraternal offices assuage
The pangs of sore disease?—these too denied!
For ah! a brother still of lesser age,
At distance languished, while his brother died!
No tender sister weeping o'er his bed!
No anxious father soothing with his love!
No mother! God! I touch a tender string!
My heart's acutest nerve—its vital thread;
Struck too unkindly, tears of crimson move,
And wakened sorrow whets her blunted sting!
To see him hastening to the silent dead
Without a kindred tear of sorrow shed!
Nor bosom where to fall asleep!
Nor hand to close his eyes!
Strangers that mournful task performed!
Yet strangers here were friends; their tears, their sighs,
From bosoms flowed by purest feelings warmed.
Friends tied by nature could no more;
Nor more sincerely such a loss deplore.
Might fond fraternal offices assuage
The pangs of sore disease?—these too denied!
For ah! a brother still of lesser age,
At distance languished, while his brother died!
No tender sister weeping o'er his bed!
No anxious father soothing with his love!
No mother! God! I touch a tender string!
My heart's acutest nerve—its vital thread;
Struck too unkindly, tears of crimson move,
And wakened sorrow whets her blunted sting!
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Oh, grant, ye powers that rule the lives of all,
If I am doomed, like him I mourn, to fall—
Far from the bosom of my home,
Where fate may call, and I may roam—
Oh, grant my wish—may hearts like those which bled
O'er Florian's corse, mourn too for me;
Such be the strangers round my bed;
Such be the tears they shed
Whoe'er they be:
Such be the sacred care my ashes find,
When death has closed the scene:
Such be the impression on the youthful mind,
When followers round my grave convene;
But more than all—may I, like him, arise,
And join my friend in worlds beyond the skies.
If I am doomed, like him I mourn, to fall—
Far from the bosom of my home,
Where fate may call, and I may roam—
Oh, grant my wish—may hearts like those which bled
O'er Florian's corse, mourn too for me;
Such be the strangers round my bed;
Such be the tears they shed
Whoe'er they be:
Such be the sacred care my ashes find,
When death has closed the scene:
Such be the impression on the youthful mind,
When followers round my grave convene;
But more than all—may I, like him, arise,
And join my friend in worlds beyond the skies.
ON THE DEATH OF MISS ANNA GREENLEAF.
Her guardian angel, who had roved
Through scenes of heavenly bliss,
Hovered around the child she loved,
To steal affection's kiss.
Through scenes of heavenly bliss,
Hovered around the child she loved,
To steal affection's kiss.
“A lovely girl!” the child exclaimed,
“A beauteous form I see,
A messenger with love inflamed,
And she has come for me!”
“A beauteous form I see,
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And she has come for me!”
Her mother closed the infant's eyes,
Who 'd meekly suffered much;
And Anna's spirit sought the skies,
Led by seraphic touch.
Who 'd meekly suffered much;
And Anna's spirit sought the skies,
Led by seraphic touch.
“What bringst thou then?” the Saviour said—
The messenger replies:—
“A Green leaf rising from the dead,
To bloom in paradise!”
The messenger replies:—
“A Green leaf rising from the dead,
To bloom in paradise!”
His arms did then her form enfold,
And said, “My word was given,
When I sojourned on earth of old,
That such should people heaven!
And said, “My word was given,
When I sojourned on earth of old,
That such should people heaven!
“Then welcome, meek one, thou hast loved,
With filial love, thy duty,
And now from earth thou art removed,
Here thou shall bloom in beauty.”
With filial love, thy duty,
And now from earth thou art removed,
Here thou shall bloom in beauty.”
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |