« ZurückWeiter »
Anon the clouds depart,
The winds and waters cease ; While sweetly o’er my gladdened heart
Expands the bow of peace !
Beneath its glowing arch,
Along the hallowed ground, I see cherubic armies march,
A camp of fire around.
I hear at morn and even,
At noon and midnight hour, The choral harmonies of heaven
Earth’s Babel tongues o’erpower.
Then, then I feel, that He,
Though I perceive Him not.
“ Forever with the Lord !”
Father, if 't is thy will,
E’en here, to me fulfil.
So, when my latest breath
Shall rend the veil in twain,
And life eternal gain.
Knowing as I am known,
How shall I love that word, And oft repeat before the throne, “ Forever with the Lord !”
9. Montgomery. 1853.
THERE is a land of pure delight,
1 Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides,
And never withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
Sweet fields beyond the swelling food
Stand dressed in living green :
While Jordan rolled between.
But timorous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea,
And fear to launch away.
O, could we make our doubts remove,
These gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes,
Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o’er, —
Isaac Watts. 1674-1748.
THE SURPASSING GLORY OF GOD.
CINCE o'er thy footstool here below
Great God, about Thy throne !
If night's blue curtain of the sky —
With thousand stars inwrought,
With glittering diamonds fraught -
The dazzling sun at noonday hour —
Forth from his Aaming vase
Till vale and mountain blaze —
O, how shall these dim eyes endure
That noon of living rays !
DEYOND these chilling winds and gloomy skies, –
D Beyond death's cloudy portal, —
And love becomes immortal,
A land whose light is never dimmed by shade,
Whose fields are ever vernal,
But bloom for aye eternal.
We may not know how sweet its balmy air,
How bright and fair its flowers;
Through those enchanted bowers.
The city's shining towers we may not see
With our dim earthly vision;
That opes these gates elysian.
But sometimes, when adown the western sky
The fiery sunset lingers,
Unlocked by silent fingers.
And while they stand a moment half ajar,
Gleams from the inner glory
And half reveal the story.
O land unknown! O land of love divine !
Father all wise, eternal, Guide, guide these wandering, way-worn feet of mine Into those pastures vernal.
Miss N. A. W. Priest. 1860.