University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

collapse sectionI. 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
expand section 
expand section 
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII. 
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 
expand sectionVI. 

XVIII. CONVERSION.

Loud as that trumpet doomed to raise the dead
God's voice doth sometimes fall on us in fear,

306

More often with a music low yet clear
Low whispering, ‘It is I: be not afraid.’
And sometimes, mingling strangely joy with dread,
It thrills the spirit's caverned sepulchre
Deep as that voice which on the awe-struck ear
Of him, the three-days-buried, murmuring, said
‘Come forth’—and he arose. O Christians, hail
As brethren all on whom our glorious Sun
At morn, or noon, or latest eve, hath shone
With light, and life: and neither mourn nor rail
Because one light, itself unchanging, showers
A thousand colours on a thousand flowers.