Sing to the Lord! it is not shed in vain,
The blood of martyrs! from its freshening rain

High springs the church like some fount-shadowing palm;

The nations crowd beneath its branching shade,
Of its green leaves are kingly diadems made,

And wrapt within its deep embosoming calm
Earth sinks to slumber like the breezeless deep,
And war's tempestuous vultures fold their wings and

Sing to the Lord! no more the angels fly
Far in the bosom of the saintless sky

The sound of fierce licentious sacrifice.
From shrined alcove, and stately pedestal,
The marble gods in cumbrous ruin fall,

Headless in dust the awe of nations lies; Jove's thunder crumbles in his mouldering hand, And mute as sepulchres the hymnless temples stand.

Sing to the Lord! from damp prophetic cave
No more the loose-hair'd sybils burst and rave;
Nor watch the augurs, pale the wandering bird:
No more on hill or in the murky wood,
Mid frantic shout and dissonant music rude,
In human tones are wailing victims heard;
Nor fathers by the reeking altar-stone

Cowl their dark heads t'escape their children's dying groan.

Sing to the Lord! no more the dead are laid
In cold despair beneath the cypress shade,

To sleep the eternal sleep, that knows no morn :
There eager still to burst death's brazen bands,
The angel of the resurrection stands :

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While, on its own immortal pinions borne,
Following the breaker of the imprisoning tomb,
Forth springs the exulting soul, and shakes away its gloom.

Sing to the Lord! the desert rocks break down,
And the thronged cities in one gladdening shout;
The farthest shores by pilgrim step explored;
Spread all your wings, ye winds, and waft around,
Even to the starry cope's pale waning bound,
Earth's universal homage to the Lord;
Lift up thine head, imperial Capitol,

Proud on thy height to see the banner'd cross unroll.

Sing to the Lord! when time itself shall cease,
And final ruin's desolating peace

Enwrap this wide, and restless world of man;
When the Judge rides upon the enthroning wind,
And o'er all generations of mankind

Eternal vengeance waves its winnowing fan;

To vast infinity's remotest space,

While ages run their everlasting race,

Shall all the beatific hosts prolong,

Wide as the glory of the Lamb, the Lamb's triumphant



GoD of the thunder! from whose cloudy seat
The fiery winds of desolation flow:
Father of vengeance! that with purple feet,
Like a full wine-press, tread'st the world below:
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey,
Nor withering famine walks his blasting way,
Till thou the guilty land hast seal'd for woe.

God of the rainbow! at whose gracious sign
The billows of the proud their rage suppress:
Father of mercies! at one word of thine

An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness!
And fountains sparkle in the arid sands,
And timbrels ring in maiden's glancing hands,
And marble cities crown the laughing lands,
And pillar'd temples rise thy name to bless.

O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke-oh, Lord
The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate,
Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian sword,
Even her foes wept to see her fallen state;
And heaps her ivory palaces became.
Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame,
Her temple sank amid the smouldering flame,

For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate.

O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord shall beam,
And the sad city lift her crownless head;

And songs shall wake, and dancing footsteps gleam,
Where broods o'er fallen streets the silence of the dead.
The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers,
On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers,
To, deck, at blushing eve, their bridal bowers,
And angel-feet the glittering Sion tread.

Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand,
And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves;
With fetter'd steps we left our pleasant land,

Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves.
The stranger's bread with bitter tears we steep,
And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep,
'Neath the mute midnight we steal forth to weep,
Where the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves.

The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy;
Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home;
He that went forth a tender yearling boy,

Yet ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come.
And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shall bear,
And Hermon's bees their honied stores prepare,
And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer,

Where; o'er the cherub-seated God, full blazed th' irradiate dome.


EVEN thus amid thy pride and luxury,
O earth! shall that last coming burst on thee,
That secret coming of the Son of Man.
When all the cherub-throning clouds shall shine,
Irradiate with his bright advancing sign:

When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away : Still to the noon-tide of that nightless day,

Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain.
Along the busy mart and crowded street,
The buyer and the seller still shall meet,

And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain:
Still to the pouring out the cup of woe;
Till earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro,
And mountains molten by his burning feet,

And heaven,his presence own, all red with furnace heat.

The hundred-gated cities then,

The towers and temples, nam'd of men,

Eternal, and the thrones of kings;

The gilded summer palaces,

The courtly bowers of love and ease,

Where still the bird of pleasure sings;
Ask ye the destiny of them?

Go gaze on fallen Jerusalem!

Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll,

'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurl'd,

The skies are shrivell'd like a burning scroll,

And the vast common doom ensepulchres the world.

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