 | Wood-notes and Church-bells |  |
159
SOLOMON'S GLORY.
Seated upon a throne superb and highOf ivory, with finest gold inlaid—
Crowned with a blaze of jewels, and arrayed
In robes magnificent of Tyrian dye,
The king “in all his glory” strikes the eye
With wonder—from amidst luxurious shade
Of purple canopy, and proud parade
Of couchant lions keeping watch hard by.
But all that royal pomp the palm must yield,
In texture rare and beauty of array,
To roses wild and lilies of the field,
Which bloom and perish in a single day:
Lord, if the flowers are decked in robes so fair,
What clothing shall Thy saints in glory wear?
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