 | Dartmoor, and other poems |  |
Once more, from sickening scenes that strike my view,
Good men, and great, refresh'd, I turn to you.
The Star of Bethlehem, from night profound,
Emerges fair, with sun-like splendors round;
Vision on vision kindling I survey,
'Till with o'erpowering beam it dies away.
And can it be that who the brunt sustain
Should call aloud for aid, yet call in vain?
Bent by the weight, you arduous burdens bear,
The field is vast, but Labourers few are there.
Amazed, the Powers of Darkness stand and feel
Their temples tottering, while their idols reel,
And shall the Valiant strive and only hear
Voices from friends far off that feebly cheer?
With such a prize in view, in such a fight,
May kindred souls spontaneous spring to light,
Sent, and endued with graces from above,
Wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove,
Proud to support your hands, and to extend,
O'er boisterous seas, to earth's remotest end,
Salvation, tidings of the Sinners' Friend.
Good men, and great, refresh'd, I turn to you.
The Star of Bethlehem, from night profound,
Emerges fair, with sun-like splendors round;
Vision on vision kindling I survey,
'Till with o'erpowering beam it dies away.
And can it be that who the brunt sustain
Should call aloud for aid, yet call in vain?
Bent by the weight, you arduous burdens bear,
The field is vast, but Labourers few are there.
Amazed, the Powers of Darkness stand and feel
Their temples tottering, while their idols reel,
70
Voices from friends far off that feebly cheer?
With such a prize in view, in such a fight,
May kindred souls spontaneous spring to light,
Sent, and endued with graces from above,
Wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove,
Proud to support your hands, and to extend,
O'er boisterous seas, to earth's remotest end,
Salvation, tidings of the Sinners' Friend.
| Dartmoor, and other poems | |