Airs of Palestine, and other poems | ||
II.
HYMNS FOR ORDINATION AND INSTALLATION.
[I. O Thou who art above all height]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. William Ware, as Pastor of the First Congregational Church in New York, December 18th, 1821.
Our God, our Father, and our Friend!
Beneath thy throne of love and light,
We, thine adoring children, bend.
A vine, that by thy culture grew;
We kneel in prayer,—that thou wouldst wet
Its opening leaves with heavenly dew.
Himself, his powers, his hopes, his youth,
To the great cause of truth and Heaven;
Be thou his guide, O God of truth!
His speech like Hermon's dew distill,
Till green fields smile, and golden grain,
Ripe for the harvest, waits thy will.
Or pain, or toil, or years oppressed,—
O God! remember then our prayer,
And take his spirit to thy rest.
[II. To Thee, our Father and our King]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. John P. B. Storer, as Pastor of the Congregational Church and Society in Walpole, November 15th, 1826.
The wise, the gracious, and the just,
Our song of thanks and prayer we bring,
With humble joy and filial trust.
On the bowed form and hoary hairs
Of him who here, so long, hath led
Our fathers' and our childhood's prayers,—
A pastor, in the strength of youth,
To lead them up to Thee, their Rock,
And to the living wells of truth.
Will never leave his sheep to stray,
Of shepherd and of shade bereft,
O'er barren wastes, by night or day.
For all his servants, spared or given;
O, may we, when our work is done,
Shine with their light, and share their heaven.
[III. God of mercy, do thou never]
From our offering turn away,
But command a blessing ever
On the memory of this day.
O'er it be no shadow flung;
Let no deadly darkness stain it,
And no cloud be o'er it hung.
And its vows, to Thee addressed,
Mingle with the prayers and praises,
That Thou hearest from the blessed.
And the hearts that love Thee, dust,
Father, then our souls shall bring Thee
Holier love and firmer trust.
[IV. Eternal One, whom mortal eye]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. Charles C. Sewall, as Pastor of the First Unitarian Church and Society in Danvers, April 11th, 1827.
Hath never seen, and ne'er can see,
Loud winds, and fires that flame on high,
Are spirits ministering to thee.
How blest the office that they bear!
To shed on earth the holy light,
And fill with health the wakened air.
A nobler ministry than this;—
With grace and truth to cheer the mind,
And wake the soul to health and bliss.
Is now ordained,—as by the Son,
Whom thou didst sanctify and send
To save the world,—thy will be done.
The service in these courts of thine;
Thy will be done, whene'er he pleads
For truth or charity divine.
He kneels, and speaks of pardon there,
Then may the contrite sufferer rest,
Soothed by his presence and his prayer.
Is crushed, O may the spirit, Lord,
That served thee in it, hear thee say,
“Rise from thy toils to thy reward.”
[V. O God, we see thee smile again]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. George W. Burnap, as Pastor of the First Independent Church in Baltimore, April 23d, 1828.
In the sweet sunshine of the spring;
Thou comest in the gracious rain;
Thou ridest on the wind's soft wing.
That in their fulness roll along;
And, when thou breathest on the woods,
They wave in pomp, and wake with song.
In this our sanctuary seen?
Comes not thy breath of life to us,
Our prospects clothing all in green?
Hopes, that were rooted long ago,
But languished till thy grace, in flood,
Returned and bade them swell and blow.
By hands of strangers hath been fed?—
What though we've long drawn near our Rock
Without a shepherd at our head?
We 've borne the trials of our trust;
And that thy truth will rise, like grain,
The stronger for its sleep in dust.
O grant us years of large increase,
Till from above thy voice is heard;
“Ye faithful ones, depart in peace.”
[VI. “Let there be light!”—When from on high]
Written for the Installation of the Rev. Mellish Irving Motte, over the South Congregational Society in Boston, May 21st, 1828.
O God, that first commandment came,
Forth leaped the Sun; and earth and sky
Lay in his light, and felt his flame.
And truth, a darkling world to bless,
Came with thy word, when on our race
Broke forth the Sun of Righteousness.
That Sun! how wide his beams he flings,
As up the glorious sky he goes,
With light and healing in his wings!
Hope sees it open heaven's wide halls
To those, who for the truth have striven;
And Faith walks firmly where it falls.
Mourn the withholding of its rays;
It gilds their gates, and on the lips
Of every faithful preacher plays.
Of him, who, in the strength of youth,
Gives himself up, in this day's vows,
A minister of grace and truth?
Go through death's gloomy vale alone;
But bear it on to its high goal,
Wrapped in the light that veils thy throne.
[VII. “On earth be peace!”—O God, that word]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. William Barry, over the Second Congregational Church and Society in Lowell November 17th, 1830.
To our ears comes not, as it came,
When by Judea's shepherds heard
From opening skies and lips of flame.
Makes it the burden of a hymn,
Not less than when, of old, it rung
From golden harps of cherubim.
And heavenly hosts their hymning cease!
On earth thine humbler servants stand,
In humbler temples, “preaching peace.”
Resistance to thy wise control;
Peace to all fears, but those which go
In arms against a sinful soul.
Comes, as a herald of thy grace,
To lead thy people when they bow
In worship, in this holy place.
O, grant thy vineyard large increase;
And may a crown, as his reward,
Be given him by the Prince of Peace.
[VIII. When on the sun's broad splendors]
Written for the Installation of the Rev Andrew Bigelow, over the First Congregational Church and Society in Taunton, April 10th, 1833.
The gates of evening close,
And darkling earth surrenders
Her children to repose,
The azure paths above us
By sons of light are trod,
Who watch, as those who love us,
And tell us of our God.
Round which thine angels press,
Shut from the eyes of mortals
The Sun of Righteousness,
The world he blessed hath never
Of light been all bereft;
The heralds of thy favor,
Thy watchmen, still are left.
To wipe our tears away;
They wake, while we are sleeping,
And for our peace they pray;
Or, in the congregation,
To plead thy cause they stand;—
O God of our salvation,
Uphold them with thy hand.
Which loves to labor thus,
Abide upon thy servant,
Who comes, this day, to us;
That, when his strength is failing,
Those he hath led may say,
“Our star is only paling
In heaven's advancing day.”
[IX. “The poor, the suffering poor,”—He said]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. John T. Sargent as a Minister to the Poor in Boston, October 29th, 1839.
Who, from his garment's very hem
A healing virtue round him shed,—
“Shall have the Gospel preached to them.”
The stars dropped many a dewy gem,
Broke, for the poor, the living bread
He brought from heaven, and gave it them.
Which shot out green from Jesse's stem,
These wandering poor are gathered
To have the Gospel preached to them.
The houseless Babe of Bethlehem,—
These houseless babes hath hither led,
To have his Gospel preached to them.
These lambs of thine, and help him stem
The tide of sin, with fearless tread,
And preach the Gospel unto them.
O God, to be a priceless gem?
Give them to him, who for them bled,
To sparkle in his diadem!
[X. To thee, O God, our Rock]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. Frederick W. Holland, over the First Unitarian Society in Brooklyn, N. Y., April 11th, 1838.
Sing we a joyful song;
Who has not left thy flock
Without a shepherd long.
O, may the voice
Thy Spirit gave,
O'er Jordan's wave,
Approve our choice.
To labor in this field,
Lord, let thine aid be lent,
That so his ground shall yield
A large increase;
And so shall he,
When called to thee,
Depart in peace.
To old and young extend;
These in thy bosom bear,
O'er those in pity bend;—
Thy voice alone
We love to hear;
Be ever near,
To guard thine own.
Through pleasant vales that flow,
And in green pastures fed,
May this, thy people, grow
In every grace,
Till all, above,
In light and love,
Behold thy face.
[XI. To thine altar, Holy One]
Written for the Ordination of Mr. Theodore H. Dorr, as Pastor of the First Congregational Church in Billerica, May 28th, 1839.
—solo.
Who dost now this temple fill,
As a servant of thy Son,
“Lo, I come to do thy will.”
—full choir.
From thine altar rise to thee!
Make his body's health thy care;
Keep his spirit pure and free!
MINISTER.
What of strength and light is mine;
But, Lord, that their souls may live,
Give them light and strength divine!
PEOPLE.
Let thy holy spirit fall!
Send thy blessing with the bread
That he breaketh for us all!
MINISTER.
In thy sight may they be clean!
When my lips for thee shall speak,
Let their truth by thee be seen!
PEOPLE.
To our listening ears shall come,
May it meet a welcome here!
Give it in our hearts a home.
For this people, towards thy throne,
Place a worthier in my stead!
Father, leave them not alone!
PEOPLE.
When his spirit leaves its clay,
Take him, by the Gospel's power,
To his rest in endless day.
Airs of Palestine, and other poems | ||