 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
57
Champions of the Truth.
The Watchman.
“Who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I;
send me.”—
Isa. vi. 8.
Dull thunders moan around the Temple Rock,
And deep in hollow caves, far underneath,
The lonely watchman feels the sullen shock,
His footsteps timing as the low winds breathe;
Hark! from the Shrine is asked, What stedfast heart
Dares in the storm go forth? Who takes th' Almighty's part?
And deep in hollow caves, far underneath,
The lonely watchman feels the sullen shock,
His footsteps timing as the low winds breathe;
Hark! from the Shrine is asked, What stedfast heart
Dares in the storm go forth? Who takes th' Almighty's part?
And with a bold gleam flush'd, full many a brow
Is rais'd to say, “Behold me, Lord, and send.”
But ere the words be breathed, some broken vow
Remember'd, ties the tongue; and sadly blend
With Faith's pure incense, clouds of conscience dim,
And faltering tones of guilt mar the Confessor's hymn.
Is rais'd to say, “Behold me, Lord, and send.”
But ere the words be breathed, some broken vow
Remember'd, ties the tongue; and sadly blend
With Faith's pure incense, clouds of conscience dim,
And faltering tones of guilt mar the Confessor's hymn.
| Miscellaneous Poems | |