Now, to-day, and not to-morrow, O FOR a voice of thunder, that might wake The slumbering sinner ere he sinks in death; O for a tempest, into dust to shake, His sand-built dwelling while he yet has breath; A viewless hand to picture on the wall, The fearful sentence ere the curtain fall. Child of the dust! from torpid ruin rise— Be earth's delusions from thy bosom hurl'd, And strive to measure, with enlightened eyes, The dread importance of the eternal world. The shades of night are gathering round thee fast, Arise to labour, ere thy days be past. WELCOME CROSS. 'Tis my happiness below, Trials must and will befall; God in Israel sows the seeds These spring up and choke the weeds, Did I meet no trials here, THE WAITING SOUL. BREATHE from the gentle South, O Lord, I wish, thou know'st, to be resigned, Help me to reach the distant goal; Confirm my feeble knee; Pity the sickness of a soul That faints for love of thee. Cold as I feel this heart of mine, It yields some hope of life divine I seem forsaken and alone, And every door is shut but one, There, till the dear Deliverer come, I'll wait with humble prayer, And when he calls his exile home, The Lord shall find him there. ZION. Isaiah xlix. 13—16. O ZION! afflicted with wave upon wave, Whom no man can comfort, whom no man can save; With darkness surrounded, by terrors dismayed, In toiling and rowing thy strength is decayed. Loud roaring, the billows now nigh overwhelm, But skilful's the Pilot who sits at the helm ; His wisdom conducts thee, His power defends, In safety and quiet thy warfare He ends. O fearful! O faithless! in mercy He cries, My promise, my truth-are they light in thine eyes? |