 | Remains of the Rev. Carlos Wilcox . |  |
If converse with Jehovah forty days
Amid the terrors of mount Sinai, made
A mortal's countenance like an angel's shine,
O how eternal converse with the Lamb,
Upon mount Sion, 'mid its signs of peace,
While all around is calm and beautiful,
Will make the face of an immortal glow.
How will his lips, in his Redeemer's praise
Hosannas chanting, burn with fervour pure,
His very fingers, flying o'er the strings
Of his melodious harp, with rosy tinge
Shall grow resplendent, half transparent grow,
Like those of some fair hand before a lamp,
Held near to guard it from the passing air.
The saint redeem'd, his glory not innate,
From his Redeemer constantly received,
The mere reflection of his solar blaze,
May, hence, perhaps, outshine an angel, clad
With native splendour; as the moon, adorn'd
With lustre borrow'd from the source of day,
Outshines a star with light inherent deck'd.
Amid the terrors of mount Sinai, made
A mortal's countenance like an angel's shine,
O how eternal converse with the Lamb,
Upon mount Sion, 'mid its signs of peace,
While all around is calm and beautiful,
Will make the face of an immortal glow.
How will his lips, in his Redeemer's praise
Hosannas chanting, burn with fervour pure,
His very fingers, flying o'er the strings
Of his melodious harp, with rosy tinge
Shall grow resplendent, half transparent grow,
Like those of some fair hand before a lamp,
Held near to guard it from the passing air.
The saint redeem'd, his glory not innate,
From his Redeemer constantly received,
The mere reflection of his solar blaze,
May, hence, perhaps, outshine an angel, clad
With native splendour; as the moon, adorn'd
With lustre borrow'd from the source of day,
Outshines a star with light inherent deck'd.
| Remains of the Rev. Carlos Wilcox . | |