Poems of home and country :: :: University of Virginia Library

Your thousand voices raise,
In symphony of praise,
Clear, sweet and strong;
Tell it with joy unknown,
Tell it in loftiest tone,
Jesus is King, alone,—
The note prolong.

He came, He saw, He died,—
Jesus, the Crucified;
He lives, He reigns.
In Him all glories meet;
Kings bow before His feet;
His foes are mown like wheat;
His throne remains.

Born from an infant root,
Once like a feeble shoot,
Hopeful and brave;
The twig has grown a tree,
Known over land and sea,—
O'er what immensity
Its branches wave!

304

Ride on, triumphant Lord!
A hundred years record
Thy victories won;
Hasten the glorious day
When all shall own Thy sway,
And earth and heaven shall say,—
“The work is done.”

MORN OF ZION'S GLORY.

FROM THE GERMAN.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Brightly thou art breaking;
Holy joys thy light is waking.
Morn of Zion's glory,
Ancient saints foretold thee,
Seraph-angels, glad, behold thee;
How they glide,
Far and wide,
Streams of full salvation,
Free to every nation.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Joyful tidings bringing,
All the wilds with flowers are springing!
Morn of Zion's glory,
All the nations hail thee;
Foes to God in vain assail thee;
Peace with men
Dwells again
What celestial pleasure
Swells, a sacred treasure.

305

Morn of Zion's glory,
Every human dwelling
With the notes of joy is swelling;
Morn of Zion's glory!
Distant hills are ringing,
Echoed voices sweet are singing;
Haste thee on,
Like the sun,
Paths of splendor tracing,
Heathen midnight chasing.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Now the night is risen;
Now thy star is high in heaven.
Morn of Zion's glory,
Joyful hearts are bounding,
Hallelujahs high are sounding.
Peace with men
Dwells again;
Jesus reigns forever,
Jesus reigns forever!

THE GREAT SALVATION.

Glorious days shall be to Zion
When her conflicts are no more,
And the Saviour she relies on,
Sits enthroned in regal power.

Broken, every captive's fetter,—
All in Jesus shall be free;
Kings shall crowd to Heaven's sceptre;
All the earth shall bow the knee.

306

Hail, the willing nations, bending,
Prince of Peace, before Thy throne!
Heaven to earth, in love descending,
Views a world at peace,—Thine own.

In the scenes of coming glory,
All the ransomed hosts shall share;
All the holy, all the lowly,
Shall the crown of glory wear.

Hosts from every clime and nation
Then shall be in Christ made one;
Gained in full, the Great Salvation,—
Life and joy immortal, won.

THE SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL ASSURED.

THE MORNING LIGHT IS BREAKING.

[_]

This Hymn, and the National Hymn, “My country, 't is of thee,” were written while the author was at Andover Theological Seminary, in 1832.

The morning light is breaking;
The darkness disappears;
The sons of earth are waking
To penitential tears.
Each breeze that sweeps the ocean,
Brings tidings from afar
Of nations in commotion,
Prepared for Zion's war.

307

Rich dews of grace come o'er us,
In many a gentle shower,
And brighter scenes before us,
Are opening every hour;
Each cry, to Heaven going,
Abundant answers brings,
And heavenly gales are blowing,
With peace upon their wings.

See heathen nations bending
Before the God we love!
And thousand hearts ascending
In gratitude above;
While sinners, now confessing,
The Gospel call obey,
And seek the Saviour's blessing,—
A nation in a day.

Blest river of salvation,
Pursue thy onward way;
Flow, thou, to every nation,
Nor in thy richness stay;
Stay not, till all the lowly
Triumphant reach their home;
Stay not, till all the holy
Proclaim, “The Lord is come!”

308

JESUS EVER REIGNS.

FROM THE GERMAN.

Up, ye nations, raise
Songs of grateful praise;
Let creation round,
Ring the joyful sound;
Let each happy voice,
In the Lord rejoice;
Jesus, now adore,
Sovereign, evermore;
He who loved our souls,
He whose mercy rolls
O'er our guilty stains,—
Jesus ever reigns.

Now His pains are o'er,
Who our sorrows bore;
Now He mounts the throne,
Worthy, He alone,
Evermore to wear,
Wreaths of glory there;
See the rainbow shine,
Pledge of love divine;
See it o'er His head,
Rays of splendor shed!
Earthly glory wanes;
Jesus ever reigns.

Thou, of David's race,
Thou, the Prince of Peace,
Thou, Almighty Word,
Thou, Incarnate Lord,

309

Worthy art, to be
Praised in melody,
Poured from thousand tongues,
Swelled in thousand songs.
Worthy is Thy name,
Sin-atoning Lamb,
Thou, who once wast slain,
Evermore to reign.

Lord, our praise we bring,—
Praise to Christ, our King;
Praise to Him whose love
Leads our souls above;
Praise to Him whose power
Guards us hour by hour.
Sing, ye choirs on high;
Angel bands, reply,
Mortals, old and young,—
Let each joyful tongue,
Join the lofty strains,—
Jesus ever reigns.

THE LORD IS COME.

Light o'er the darkened hills
Breaks forth at last, and fills
The glowing sky;
See, a new dayspring born
Kindles a holy morn,
Beaming on lands forlorn,
While shadows fly.

310

Glory to God on high,
Wide let the echo fly!
His flag, unfurled,
Shall tell new wonders done.
Shall boast new triumphs won,—
His, the Immortal crown,
The conquered world.

Welcome the glorious morn,
Welcome the hosts, new-born,
Praise and adore.
Dispersed the heathen's gloom,
Thousands to Christ have come;
In Christ there still is room
For thousands more.

Hail, mighty Conqueror, hail!
Thy promise will not fail;
Thy crown assume.
Speak from Thy throne on high,
Bid the glad tidings fly,
And heaven and earth reply,
“The Lord is come!”

311

TRIUMPHS OF THE GOSPEL.

What waves of music roll,
What songs of joy come swelling,
Among the angel bands,
Along heaven's sacred dwelling,
When penitents return,
When dying souls revive,
Forsake the way of death,
And learn for God to live!

Among the saints on earth,
What praise and adoration
To God the Saviour wake,
When lost ones seek salvation!
The sacramental host,
That spreads from sea to sea,
While the glad numbers grow,
Sing their fresh Jubilee.

Hail, day of holy joy!
Though earth's last days are wasting,
When happy converts come,
Like doves, to Jesus hasting!
Ride on, Thou conquering Prince,
Till all the world obey,
And all the ransomed earth
Yield to Thy blessed sway.

312

SPEED ON THY VICTORY, MIGHTY KING!

[_]

For the Young Men's Social Union, Boston, March 19, 1895.

Speed on Thy victory, mighty King,
The world awaits Thy call!
Swiftly Thy glorious kingdom bring,
And reign Thou, Lord of all.

All things are Thine,—the earth we tread,
The stars, the sky, the sea;
And we are in Thy image made,—
Our all belongs to Thee.

So, conquering Prince, o'er all the world,
Bid sin and tumult cease,
And Thy blest banner float, unfurled,
Above a world at peace.

Gather fresh crowns, of priceless worth,—
Triumphant Saviour, Thou,—
Till the fair crown of all the earth
Shall glitter on Thy brow.

313

THE PRINCE OF SALVATION IN TRIUMPH IS RIDING.

The Prince of Salvation in triumph is riding,
And glory attends Him along His bright way;
The news of His grace on the breezes are gliding,
And mortals are owning His sway.

The rays of the gospel-star,—see how they brighten!
With splendors unknown the horizon they fill;
The wretched they soothe, and the dark they enlighten,
And gladness their beamings distil.

Ride on, in Thy greatness, Thou conquering Saviour!
Let thousands of thousands submit to Thy reign,
Like doves at their windows, entreat for Thy favor,
And follow Thy glorious train.

Then sweetly shall ring from each sanctified nation,
The voices of myriads tuned to Thy praise,
And heaven shall re-echo the song of salvation,
In rich and melodious lays.

314

AMERICA'S CHRISTIAN CENTENNIAL.

[_]

Written under the conviction that the progress of Christ's Kingdom during the First Century of American Independence was typical of its supreme extension during the new century, just begun.

A hundred years,—how vast the sweep
Of scenes that fill the mighty past!
The sires that sowed, the sons that reap;
The trembling first, the hopeful last!

A hundred years,—through peace and strife
The envy of a hundred lands;
The nation, nurtured into life,
Founded in faith, in glory stands.

A hundred years,—what names of power
With fadeless bloom our history wreathe;
Like petals of some fragrant flower,
A sweet aroma still they breathe.

A hundred years,—o'er lands afar,
Where once at heathen shrines they fell,
Thousands have hailed the rising star,
Thy radiant star, Immanuel.

A hundred years,—from sea to sea
Freedom's unsullied banners wave;
No tyrant bids us bow the knee,
No zealot rules, nor toils a slave.

315

A hundred years,—what scenes unknown
In wondrous vista lie outspread!
Harvests from seed in weakness sown,
Life, springing from the mighty dead.

A hundred years,—we wait His word
Whose fiat bade creation be,
Who spake, and echoing chaos heard,
And light broke forth in majesty.

A hundred years,—unshrinking still,
We wait the Master's high behest;
In filial trust, the Master's will
Appoints our toil, provides our rest.

A hundred years, perchance, may end,
And sin from all its thrones be hurled,
And earth in humble reverence bend
To Him who rules a ransomed world.

A hundred years, and earth, redeemed,
Shall see her idol temples fall,
And He, whose star o'er Bethlehem beamed,
Sit, crowned, triumphant, Lord of all.

THE DOXOLOGY OF REDEMPTION.

Redeemed from death! redeemed from sin!
Redeemed from ills without, within!
Redeemed! what new light gilds the skies!
What glories on the soul arise!

316

Glory to Him whose love unknown
Reached man's abyss from Heaven's high throne;
Like some new star its radiance beamed,
A new key rang,—redeemed! redeemed!

As ocean's billows swell and break,
The mighty tide of praise shall wake;
Thy love, Lord, like the unmeasured sea,
Shall waft a world, redeemed, to Thee.

Redeemed! creation, joyful, brings
Its tribute to the King of kings;
Redeemed! earth's million voices raise
One sounding anthem to His praise.