University of Virginia Library

APOSTROPHÉ TO ENGLAND.

Land of the Lord! my own maternal Isle!
Still in the noontide of celestial love
Basking, beneath the cross of Christ adored,
How bounds the heart with patriotic throb
Devoted, till each pulse a prayer becomes,
When oft upon thy sea-dash'd cliff we stand,
While ships by thousands haunt thy favour'd shores,
And in their bosom half the world discharge
Of riches and of splendour! God is thine,
My country! faithful unto death be thou;
For He has made and magnified thy strength,
E'en like a second Palestine, to prove
The Ark of Scripture, where a creedless world
The truth may find which makes her spirit free!
Thy bulwark is the Bible, in the heart
Of Britain, like a second heart enshrined
For inspiration, purity and power:
And while upon thine ocean-throne erect,
Scepter'd by prowess, Earth reveres thy reign,
O'er public virtue as in private life
May Scripture be sole paramount and test,
The source and standard of majestic faith,
Where morals form, and whence our motives flow.
And thus, brave Empire! if thy Church beloved
Firm to the truths a second Paul restored,
Tenaciously through blood and fire remain,
Then, long as guardian-waves begird
Thy shores, or sunbeams o'er thy cornfields play,
And thy large soul with liberty exults
And brightens, will the Church uninjured stand,
Saintly and solemn, by the wise revered,
By greatness honour'd, as by goodness blest.
And never may the touching sabbath-bells
No echo in thy children's heart awake;
When pealing softly with a pensive chime
Or deep-toned cadence o'er thy hills and dales,
Cities, and towns, and hamlets far away,—
They bid us feel what Luther's victory won,
Giving to myriads God's own Day of rest
Pure as the dawn my page shall vision now.