The Hope of the World and other poems by Charles Mackay |
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| SACRED MELODIES. |
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 | The Hope of the World and other poems |  |
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SACRED MELODIES.
I. “AND GOD SAID, LET THERE BE LIGHT!”
Earth heard the loud, the solemn sound,
And started from her utmost bound;
And Darkness, on his ebon car,
Spread his black wings, and fled afar;
The dun clouds open'd at the sight,
And hail'd the burst of life and light!
And started from her utmost bound;
And Darkness, on his ebon car,
Spread his black wings, and fled afar;
The dun clouds open'd at the sight,
And hail'd the burst of life and light!
“'Tis light! 'tis light!” the mountains rung,
“'Tis light! 'tis light!” the valleys sung!
The stars beheld its dawning bright,
The spheres confess'd the Godhead's might,
While Nature's universal voice
Proclaim'd aloud, “Rejoice! rejoice!”
“'Tis light! 'tis light!” the valleys sung!
The stars beheld its dawning bright,
The spheres confess'd the Godhead's might,
While Nature's universal voice
Proclaim'd aloud, “Rejoice! rejoice!”
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II. WEEPING FOR THE DEAD.
Oh! why should we bewail the dead,
Why sorrow o'er their narrow bed?
Have they not sought the happy shore,
Where human cares oppress no more?
Bewail them not!—more blest than we,
From mortal woes and anguish free,
Their parted spirits rest in peace
In the still land where troubles cease!
Why sorrow o'er their narrow bed?
Have they not sought the happy shore,
Where human cares oppress no more?
Bewail them not!—more blest than we,
From mortal woes and anguish free,
Their parted spirits rest in peace
In the still land where troubles cease!
Bewail them not! their bright abode
Is with a Father and a God:
Freed from Corruption's cold embrace,
They see th' Almighty face to face.
No sorrows move the faithful dead,
No woes disturb their narrow bed;
In the still land, where troubles cease,
Their parted spirits rest in peace.
Is with a Father and a God:
Freed from Corruption's cold embrace,
They see th' Almighty face to face.
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No woes disturb their narrow bed;
In the still land, where troubles cease,
Their parted spirits rest in peace.
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III. THE DOVE OF NOAH.
Hope on her wings, and God her guide,
The dove of Noah soar'd,
Far through the dim unfathom'd space,
Where shoreless ocean roar'd.
But, ah! she found no valley green,
No resting-place,—no track,
Until the peaceful ark received
The weary wanderer back.
The dove of Noah soar'd,
Far through the dim unfathom'd space,
Where shoreless ocean roar'd.
But, ah! she found no valley green,
No resting-place,—no track,
Until the peaceful ark received
The weary wanderer back.
So we, on Life's tempestuous sea,
Beset by grief and pain,
May seek a solace here below,
But ah! the search is vain.
A resting-place for weary man
Is only found above;
The ark to which the soul returns
Is the Almighty's love.
Beset by grief and pain,
May seek a solace here below,
But ah! the search is vain.
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Is only found above;
The ark to which the soul returns
Is the Almighty's love.
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IV. REPENTANCE.
By the red lightning rent and riven,
And stretch'd along the plain,
Can the tall oak extend to heaven
Its gay green boughs again?
Or when a star hath lost its track,
And faded from on high,
Can aught restore the lost one back
To glory and the sky?
No; the tall oak no more can spread
Its green leaves to the blast,
Nor can the meteor which hath fled,
Recall its splendours past.
And stretch'd along the plain,
Can the tall oak extend to heaven
Its gay green boughs again?
Or when a star hath lost its track,
And faded from on high,
Can aught restore the lost one back
To glory and the sky?
No; the tall oak no more can spread
Its green leaves to the blast,
Nor can the meteor which hath fled,
Recall its splendours past.
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Can man, deep sunk in guilty care,
And press'd by human ill,
Gain triumph o'er his dark despair,
And find a solace still?
Yes! He who for our ransom bled,
Holds back th' avenging rod,
When meek Contrition bows her head,
Repenting, to her God.
Though dark the sin—though deep the heart
Be sunk in guilt and pain,
Yet Mercy can a balm impart,
And raise it up again!
And press'd by human ill,
Gain triumph o'er his dark despair,
And find a solace still?
Yes! He who for our ransom bled,
Holds back th' avenging rod,
When meek Contrition bows her head,
Repenting, to her God.
Though dark the sin—though deep the heart
Be sunk in guilt and pain,
Yet Mercy can a balm impart,
And raise it up again!
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V. RESIGNATION.
In cold misfortune's cheerless day,
When joy and peace and love depart,
When friends deceive, and hopes decay,
And sorrows press the heavy heart,
O Lord! Thou canst relief impart;
'Tis Thou canst cheer the wounded mind,
'Tis Thou canst heal affliction's smart;—
Teach us to pray, and be resigned.
When joy and peace and love depart,
When friends deceive, and hopes decay,
And sorrows press the heavy heart,
O Lord! Thou canst relief impart;
'Tis Thou canst cheer the wounded mind,
'Tis Thou canst heal affliction's smart;—
Teach us to pray, and be resigned.
And oh! should changeful fortune frown,
Or those we love prove true no more,
Should Death's relentless hand strike down
Those who return'd the love we bore;
Still let us worship and adore,
And seek the peace we yet may find;—
Teach us, O Father! we implore,
To trust in Thee, and be resign'd!
Or those we love prove true no more,
Should Death's relentless hand strike down
Those who return'd the love we bore;
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And seek the peace we yet may find;—
Teach us, O Father! we implore,
To trust in Thee, and be resign'd!
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VI. MARINERS' PRAYER,
DURING A STORM.
The loud blast leaps from wave to wave,
Around our heads the thunders rave,
And dark, dark is the midnight sky,
Save when the lightning flashes high.
O God whom we revere!
Thy voice can still the raging deep,
Thy mercy lull the winds to sleep—
Then, Father, hear!
In Thee we trust—to Thee we fly—
Guide and protect us, or we die!
Around our heads the thunders rave,
And dark, dark is the midnight sky,
Save when the lightning flashes high.
O God whom we revere!
Thy voice can still the raging deep,
Thy mercy lull the winds to sleep—
Then, Father, hear!
In Thee we trust—to Thee we fly—
Guide and protect us, or we die!
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The yawning waves around us dash,
And shine in the glare of the lightning's flash;
The billows rush—the breakers roar,
And drive our bark on the rocky shore.
Lord! in this deadly fear,
We have no hope—no help but Thee;
Thy voice alone can calm the sea—
Then, Father, hear!
In Thee we trust—to Thee we fly,
Guide and protect us, or we die!
And shine in the glare of the lightning's flash;
The billows rush—the breakers roar,
And drive our bark on the rocky shore.
Lord! in this deadly fear,
We have no hope—no help but Thee;
Thy voice alone can calm the sea—
Then, Father, hear!
In Thee we trust—to Thee we fly,
Guide and protect us, or we die!
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VIII. SAUL AND DAVID.
A voice of wailing and of grief
Fills the proud monarch's regal hall,
There's madness on the kingly brow,
There's frenzy in the soul of Saul.
Where is the bard whose soothing song
Can solace to the mind impart?
Whose lips can utter words of peace,
And drive the demon from the heart?
Fills the proud monarch's regal hall,
There's madness on the kingly brow,
There's frenzy in the soul of Saul.
Where is the bard whose soothing song
Can solace to the mind impart?
Whose lips can utter words of peace,
And drive the demon from the heart?
He comes, the shepherd-minstrel comes,
His hallow'd fingers sweep the lyre;
He comes, he comes, the holy bard,
All radiant with prophetic fire.
And thus, preluding on the strings,
A bold and joyous song he sings:
His hallow'd fingers sweep the lyre;
He comes, he comes, the holy bard,
All radiant with prophetic fire.
And thus, preluding on the strings,
A bold and joyous song he sings:
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“Fill, fill the bowl with rosy wine,
To cheer the bosom of the king,
Deep in the goblet let it shine,
And wreathe it round with flowers of spring;
The morn of life is on the wing,
The time that flies returns no more:
Joy hath its grief—love hath its sting—
But wine rejoices to the core.”
To cheer the bosom of the king,
Deep in the goblet let it shine,
And wreathe it round with flowers of spring;
The morn of life is on the wing,
The time that flies returns no more:
Joy hath its grief—love hath its sting—
But wine rejoices to the core.”
The minstrel ceased—the monarch smiled,
But still the song was vain,
It could not calm the frenzy wild
That burn'd within his brain.—
He raves! he raves!—O minstrel mild!
Re-tune thy lyre again.
But still the song was vain,
It could not calm the frenzy wild
That burn'd within his brain.—
He raves! he raves!—O minstrel mild!
Re-tune thy lyre again.
“Where shall the gloom that prompts the sigh
Find light, if not in Beauty's eye?
Where shall the aching forehead rest,
If not upon her snowy breast?
Love is the solace and relief,
Love is the balm for care and grief.”
Find light, if not in Beauty's eye?
Where shall the aching forehead rest,
If not upon her snowy breast?
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Love is the balm for care and grief.”
The monarch scarcely heard the lay,
Delicious though it were,
And as its murmurs died away,
His eyes began to glare.
O minstrel! still thy song is vain;
Perchance some sadder air
May drive the fury from his brain.
Hark! how the numbers fall, he strikes the lyre again!
Delicious though it were,
And as its murmurs died away,
His eyes began to glare.
O minstrel! still thy song is vain;
Perchance some sadder air
May drive the fury from his brain.
Hark! how the numbers fall, he strikes the lyre again!
“The Lord is good, the Lord is great!
Long doth his loving-kindness last;
The heart that hath for pardon sued,
Ne'er weeps in vain its errors past.
'Tis He can heal the suffering soul,
'Tis He can cheer in sorrow's day—”
The monarch heard—then smiled—then wept—
The evil spirit pass'd away.
Long doth his loving-kindness last;
The heart that hath for pardon sued,
Ne'er weeps in vain its errors past.
'Tis He can heal the suffering soul,
'Tis He can cheer in sorrow's day—”
The monarch heard—then smiled—then wept—
The evil spirit pass'd away.
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IX. OUR SAVIOUR'S LAMENTATION OVER JERUSALEM.
The eagle hath stoop'd from his eyrie on high,
Weep, daughter of Salem, the spoiler is nigh;
Weep, weep and lament, for he comes in his wrath,
And the vengeance of God is the guide of his path;
I see his fierce horsemen prepare for the war,
And I hear their loud shouts as they rush from afar.
Weep, daughter of Salem, the spoiler is nigh;
Weep, weep and lament, for he comes in his wrath,
And the vengeance of God is the guide of his path;
I see his fierce horsemen prepare for the war,
And I hear their loud shouts as they rush from afar.
Mourn, mourn and lament, for thy strength shall be riven,
And the star of thy glory be blotted from heaven;
Thy towers and thy temples, now gleaming in air,
Shall be low as thy shame in that day of despair;
Thy pitiless foe shall exult o'er thy fall,
And the God thou hast scorn'd shall be deaf to thy call.
And the star of thy glory be blotted from heaven;
Thy towers and thy temples, now gleaming in air,
Shall be low as thy shame in that day of despair;
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And the God thou hast scorn'd shall be deaf to thy call.
How often, O Salem, I've wept by thy side,
And mourn'd for thy sons in their blindness and pride!
How often I've pray'd and implored thee in vain
To repent, and return to thy Father again!
Why, daughter of Salem, O why wouldst thou spurn
The grace and the hope that can never return?
And mourn'd for thy sons in their blindness and pride!
How often I've pray'd and implored thee in vain
To repent, and return to thy Father again!
Why, daughter of Salem, O why wouldst thou spurn
The grace and the hope that can never return?
The heathen shall come, and shall raze to the earth
The lordly abodes of thy pride and thy mirth;
With the blood of thy sons shall thy altars be stain'd,
And the shrine of thy God shall be rent and profaned;
On the walls of the temple the spoiler shall tread—
Weep, weep! for the beam of thy glory hath fled.
The lordly abodes of thy pride and thy mirth;
With the blood of thy sons shall thy altars be stain'd,
And the shrine of thy God shall be rent and profaned;
On the walls of the temple the spoiler shall tread—
Weep, weep! for the beam of thy glory hath fled.
Then, daughter of Salem, in grief and despair,
When the fires of thy dwellings shall redden the air,
When thy victor shall taunt thee, and scoff at thy cries,
As the smoke of the Temple ascends to the skies;
When trampled—insulted—rejected—abhorr'd,
Then, Zion, O then, thou'lt remember the Lord.
When the fires of thy dwellings shall redden the air,
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As the smoke of the Temple ascends to the skies;
When trampled—insulted—rejected—abhorr'd,
Then, Zion, O then, thou'lt remember the Lord.
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X. GOD IN THE STORM.
A tempest rent the starry dome,
And tortured ocean into foam.
Bending to earth my humbled head,
In solemn and religious dread,
And kneeling on the sod,
I heard a voice proclaim aloud,
Whose echoes sprang from cloud to cloud,
“Great is the Lord our God!”
And tortured ocean into foam.
Bending to earth my humbled head,
In solemn and religious dread,
And kneeling on the sod,
I heard a voice proclaim aloud,
Whose echoes sprang from cloud to cloud,
“Great is the Lord our God!”
And ocean swell'd its waters vast,
Repeating, as it roar'd
In chorus with the furious blast,
“Oh, mighty is the Lord!”
While the fierce lightning, flashing high,
Traced the dread accents on the sky,
Writing, as with a fiery rod,
“Oh, mighty is the Lord our God!”
Repeating, as it roar'd
In chorus with the furious blast,
“Oh, mighty is the Lord!”
While the fierce lightning, flashing high,
Traced the dread accents on the sky,
Writing, as with a fiery rod,
“Oh, mighty is the Lord our God!”
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XI. THE INFINITUDE OF MERCY.
Say not that any crime of man
Was e'er too great to be forgiven;—
Can we within our little span
Engrasp the viewless winds of heaven?
Shall we attempt with puny force
To lash back ocean with a rod,
Arrest the planets in their course,
Or weigh the mercies of a God?
Was e'er too great to be forgiven;—
Can we within our little span
Engrasp the viewless winds of heaven?
Shall we attempt with puny force
To lash back ocean with a rod,
Arrest the planets in their course,
Or weigh the mercies of a God?
Our mercies, like ourselves, may be
Small, finite, and ungracious ever,
May spurn a brother's bended knee,
But God's forsake the contrite never;
Vast as Himself they shine above,
To eyes that look through sorrow's tear;
Great though the crime, great is the love,
If those who seek it are sincere.
Small, finite, and ungracious ever,
May spurn a brother's bended knee,
But God's forsake the contrite never;
Vast as Himself they shine above,
To eyes that look through sorrow's tear;
Great though the crime, great is the love,
If those who seek it are sincere.
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XII. THE BOW OF PROMISE.
When skies are dark, and tempests blow,
And clouds discharge their rain,
Appears in heaven the radiant bow,
And all is bright again.
Type of the promise kindly given
To man in days of yore,
That the incessant ire of Heaven
Should drown the earth no more.
And clouds discharge their rain,
Appears in heaven the radiant bow,
And all is bright again.
Type of the promise kindly given
To man in days of yore,
That the incessant ire of Heaven
Should drown the earth no more.
So in the heart where sorrow dwells,
And all is dark with care,
One cheering beam the gloom dispels,
And keeps away despair.
When once that hallow'd light appears
Athwart the clouds of woe,
A glory shines in human tears,
And gilds them as they flow.
And all is dark with care,
One cheering beam the gloom dispels,
And keeps away despair.
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Athwart the clouds of woe,
A glory shines in human tears,
And gilds them as they flow.
Like to the rainbow in the sky,
When storms their fury dart,
That other bow appears on high
When storms are in the heart—
“Trust in the promises of God;”
It smiles amid the gloom,
Lightens affliction's heaviest rod,
And cheers the darkest doom.
When storms their fury dart,
That other bow appears on high
When storms are in the heart—
“Trust in the promises of God;”
It smiles amid the gloom,
Lightens affliction's heaviest rod,
And cheers the darkest doom.
| The Hope of the World and other poems | |