 | The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir |  |
SPRING HYMN.
I
How pleasant is the opening year!The clouds of Winter melt away;
The flowers in beauty reappear;
The songster carols from the spray;
Lengthens the more refulgent day;
And bluer glows the arching sky;
All things around us seem to say—
“Christian! direct thy thoughts on high.”
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II
In darkness, through the dreary lengthOf Winter slept both bud and bloom;
But Nature now puts forth her strength,
And starts renew'd, as from the tomb;
Behold an emblem of thy doom,
O man!—a star hath shone to save—
And morning yet shall re-illume
The midnight darkness of the grave!
III
Yet ponder well, how then shall breakThe dawn of second life on thee—
Shalt thou to hope—to bliss awake?
Or vainly strive God's wrath to flee?
Then shall pass forth the dread decree,
That makes or weal or woe thine own:
Up, and to work! Eternity
Must reap the harvest Time hath sown.
| The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir | |