 | Cardiff Church |  |
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CARDIFF CHURCH,
LOST AND RESTORED.
I
Here stood a Church, a House of God,An earthly temple built with stones;
Its courts our fathers' footsteps trod,
Its graves received our fathers' bones;
The hymn of praise, the voice of prayer,
The gospel-trumpet sounded there,
And ransom'd spirits, in Heaven's bliss,
May round the Throne remember this.
II
But earthly temples must decay,By slow or swift destruction fall;
And time or tide will wear away
The stateliest tower, the strongest wall;
Here both conspired, in one dark hour,
To sap the wall, bring down the tower,
To storm the sanctuary, and sweep
Its very ruins to the deep.
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III
The river rushed upon the sea—The sea, the river's rage repelled;
All the wild winds, at once set free,
War with the warring waters held:
On fire with foam the surges seem,
While vehemently beat the stream,
And rocked the fabric to and fro,
As if an Earthquake heaved below.
IV
Till, as in dead of night, the flashOf lightning issues from a cloud,
Chased by the thunder, crash on crash,
Down to the gulph the temple bowed;
Bow'd for a moment on the spot,
Another moment—it was not!
O'er the lost Church the billows boomed,
And with its wreck its tombs entombed.
V
“Thus far, nor farther shall ye go!”The waters heard that voice and fled;
Spanning the firmament, God's bow,
The sign of wrath retiring, spread,—
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And resurrection from the grave,
When circling seasons had fulfilled
The term His sovereign counsel willed.
VI
The fulness of that time behold!Nine generations, in their haste,
Have passed where stood that Church of old,
Yet still the hallow'd ground lies waste:
Ye who, where they once breathed, now breathe,
To your posterity bequeath,
Of your existence here, well spent,
A House of Prayer, as monument.
VII
From granite rocks the pile renew,From Cambrian mines the ore be wrought,
From ancient woods the timber hew,
To body forth creative thought;
And bid the second temple rise,
A land and sea mark to all eyes,
Which shall outshine the first as far
As Harvest-Moon the Morning-Star.
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VIII
There is a House not built with hands,Eternal in the Heavens for them
Who journey singly, or in bands,
To seek the New Jerusalem;
With these, may all who worship here,
Age after age, in turn appear,
Where that which men call death on earth,
Spirits shall deem their better birth.
James Montgomery.
The Mount, near Sheffield, Feb. 23, 1842.
THE END.
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