Abbildungen der Seite

And the clear ripple curls to break,

Soft as a tress on Beauty's cheek, Or whether the roused billows roll

Before the blast their foam and spray,

And seem to course into the bay, Following, like racers to the goal ;-. There, be it sun-shine, be it storm,

When the wild waters have receded,

Unknown, unheeding, and unheeded, Is seen to glide a slender form;

And you may trace her fragile hand,

And little foot-print on the sand;
And there she hath some viewless shrine,

And scatters many a flow'ry token,

And seems to shed, like one heart-broken, Tears, salter than the ocean-brine.

She brings each earliest bud, that hastes,

Blushing to hail the spring's return;
She brings the latest rose that wastes

Above the year's funereal urn;
And when the storm the ocean treads,
And the pale stars have hid their heads,
Trembling to hear the waters sweep,

And the hoar winter hath crawl'd forth
Slowly, from out his dreary north,
She wanders there,--though but to weep.
Where most the bruising foot hath trod,

There is the slender daisy seen,

And still a ring of deeper green
Marks where the lightning shakes the sod:

Love, shrinking as thou seem'st to be,
What others fear emboldens thee,

And thy impress is seen alone,
(As flowers, entomb'd by earthquake shock,

Will leave faint limnings in the rock,) On hearts that fate hath chill'd to stone.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

The milk-white cups, that arch to the sky,

And the drooping leaves, recal to mind
The soul so gentle, yet so high,

That could be lofty, and still be kind.

“ And, as the wreath must soon decay,

And the waves sweep o'er it, where 'tis lying,
O would that, so, I might pass away,

And their hour of blow be mine of dying.
I ask no more, but calm to rest,
On the grave of him that I loved best,

To share his tomb so wild and lonely,
By foes and friends at once forgot,
Where the eye of memory glanceth not,

And the wave and moon-beam visit only.”

T. D.


“ And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives."

MATT. xxvi. 30.


Now is the Father glorified,
And I in him and he in me;
Now will he glorify his Son,

And seat him at his side.
A little while, and ye no more shall see,

Nor follow me where I am gone:
Our toil is well nigh finish'd now,
And heaven and earth, and sea and sky,
Before the Son of Man shall bow,

When he is lifted high !
A crown shall be around his brow-
And death and hell shall sink and die !
Peace be to him that giveth peace,
And woe to him that worketh woe,
The captived man shall find release,

The proud oppressor fallen low, Shall feel his own sharp scourge, and all his tortures know.

2. Semichorus Apostolorum. The King the prophets prophecied,

The Lord of earth and heaven

Now to his chosen race is given ! Now hath the bridegroom sought the bride!

Rejoice ye lands ! Shiloh is come, And seeks in glory his long lost home.

Now bid the trumpet's echoes swell,
Bear him in triumph to David'sthrone!

There shall our Lord for ever dwell, And bless the land he call'd his own !

When Moses stood before the Lord

On Sinai, and heard his word Thunders roll'd, and lightnings shone, And clouds were round Jehovah's throne;

Thesky was rent, the mountains reel'd,
And high the mandates there reveal'd.
But oh! what mortal tongue may say

The wonders of the second day-
When bands of seraphim shall bring

Emanuel in all his power ; And cherubim shall hail their king Enthroned in Salem's tower!


Go on your way in peace,

And walk before your God,
In fear, in love, in righteousness

Let every earth-born jarring cease,
And tread the path that I have trod;
Through pain, and danger, and distress,

A little while, and I shall sleep,
And it is yours to mourn and weep

Your lord and master gone.
But fear ye not, you are my sheep-
Still shall your Shepherd lead you on ;
The Comforter from heaven descends,
And wonders, power, and mighty deeds
Shall mark his way even to the ends
Of all the earth, and where he leads

The stubborn proudest spirit bends. When I have burst the fetters of the tomb,

And at my Father's own right hand,
With thousand saints in glory stand,
Then shall the Holy Spirit come!


Miourn, Israel, mourn !

Thy Lord is torn
With hate's sharp knife, and envy'sthorn,

Oh woe! oh woe!

Chorus Apostolorum.

The lamp is lighted now,
No hand shall quench its beam again ;

Yea, wide and wider shall it glow,

And lighten on the sons of men, And every heart shall fear and bow,

In silence then!


That none may feel, and none can know ! And claps his wings in joy to hear

Thy God is made a mock and scorn; The groan that tells him death is near; Weep for the misery that cometh on thee, Then shali thou darkness dread—but more Yea, more dreadful will it be,

the coming light ! Than when the fierce Assyrian won thee,

8. And thy proud streets flow'd with a bloody


Oh, who shall pray to God ! Oh woe ! 6.

Who shall avert the destined blow ?

What be the holy sacrifice ?
Now, Sion, art thou cast away!

When altars smoke and perfumes rise,
Thy name is sunk for ever!

Go, Israel, go!
Gone is thy pride and gone thy stay,

And weep

and pray-Oh no! Oh no! Yea, thou art cast away!

Thy end is near.
Thy vine shall blossom never ;-

Thou shalt not tempt thy God again ; Thou art overthrown in other lands,

Now be thy portion wail, and fear,
No friend shall weep over thee;

Contempt and pain !
Cruel and hostile hands

As thou received thy Lord—so be thy fate
Wait to uncover thee !

with men. Thy glory is darken'd, and turn'd into

9. shame;

Chorus. Oh where are thy ancient deeds, where is thy

What glorious vision meets our eyes, fame?

A new Jerusalem in the skies !
How shall the Gentile glory now,

For earth and sea have passed away,
That she the Empress lieth low;

And hark ! eternal spirits sayRejected of her Lord, and spoil'd her for

“Now hath God fix'd his throne with men, mer name!

They shall his people be. 7.

No weeping shall be heard again,

And death thou shalt not see,
Yea from the fix'd foundation-stone,

For all that were have passed away.”
Yon Temple's towers must fall !

No temple riseth there
The shrine where God had fix'd his God is himself their holy shrine,

The Lamb their temple fair!
The seat the Father call'd his own- They have no sun, no day, no night,
Shall vanish all !

But God is their eternal light !
And dark and long the night shall be, And thousand saints in glory there,
Where desolation hovers o'er

Raise high their golden harps in air,
Thy sons and thee!

And echo back the strain,
Then shall be signs ne'er seen before, “ Worthy the Lamb who died to save,
Yea signsin heaven and signs on earth; Who broke the bondage of the grave ;
Then shall the dreadful word go forth! Who died and lives again!
Thou art my chosen race no more; Hiş be the conqueror's meed, for Death
While the proud eagle wings his flight, himself was slain !”
Amid the darkness of the night,

Or, The Voyages and Travels of Thomas Duffle, Cloth-merchant in the

Saltmarket of Glasgow.

No, VIII. When I had abundantly satisfied my curiosity with the curious things of London, I was admonished by my purse, which had suffered a sore bowel complaint from the time of my arrival, that it behoved me to think of taking it to grass and replenishment in the Salt-market. Accordingly after settling counts with Mrs Damask, I got a hackney to carry my portmanty to the wharf, where I embarked on board the Mountaineer steam-boat, bound, God willing, to the Port of Leith.

I had not been long on board when, lo! and behold who should I see, flourishing his cane, but that nice, good-tempered, fat man, whose genius and talents in the abstruse art of song writing make such a figure in Blackwood's Magazine.

-“ Hey, Doctor!" quo I at length; “ Hegh, sirs, but a sight of you here is gude for sair een-whar d'ye come frae?"

The Doctor, who is a pawkie loon, as is well kent, said nothing at first, but looking as it were down at me with an inquisitive and jealousing ee, cried out, in his funny way, “ Whar did that creature speak frae? Lord sake, Tammy Duffle, how came ye here? What's ta’en you a gallanting out o' the Salt- Market? I thought the Gallowgate would hae been the farthest o’ your tramps. But ye hae nae doubt been up wi' a cargo of your loyalty to the Cam ronation. Lord sake, man, but I'm glad to see you: I have nae had the visibility o' a Christian face since the Heavens kens when, Tammy."

In this way the Odontist for a space o' time continued his mirthful devices till the vessel was put under way by the steam being set on, when we had soine solid conversation thegether-in the first place anent the news from Glasgow, of which the Doctor was in great want, by reason of his long absence; and in the second, concerning the Doctor's experience, and observes on the kingdom of France, and the city of Paris, appertaining thereto

. But as it is his full intention to give the world some narration of his travels, it would be a breach of confidence to rehearse herein what he told to me.

While we were thus holding a jocose conversation, a gentleman that had the look of a divine joined in with us, and he being taken with the Doctor's funny sayings, began to ettle at something of the sort himself ; and upon his suggestion the Doctor, and him, and me, retired to a corner by ourselves

, where the Odontist called on the steward to bring us a bottle of the port out of his basket of sea-stores; for the Doctor, being a man of a jolly as well as a jocose humour, had laid in a plentiful extra supply of divers sorts of good wines. This stranger turned out to be no other than the Rev. Mr Birkwhistle

, the to Minister of Dintonknow. He is an elderly man, of a composed appearance, with something, however, of a peeryweery twinkling about the een, which be trayed that he knew more than he let on. He had been at London on some gospel affair anent the call of a minister ; but whether he had been on the leet, and wasna successful, or merely as a visitant-ablins to spy the nakedness of the land, I'll no take it upon me to say ; but he had a fouth of queer stories

, which it was a curiosity to hear of, in the manner that he discoursed of the same. Among others, he told us of a very surprising thing that befell himsek.




Tale, No. XIII. "Byan agreement with the session,” the bounds and jurisdictions of the said Mr Birkwhistle, “I was invited to parish; so that I could make no betpreach the action sermon at Kilmartin, ter o't than to borrow the dredge-bor and my new wig coming home from out of the kitchen, and dress the wig Glasgow by the Saltcoats carrier on the with my own hands. Thursday afore, I took it unopened on “ Although Mr Keckle had been buthe Saturday evening in the box to ried but the week before, the mistress

, the Manse, where I was to bide during as a' minister's wives of the right gosthe preachings with the widow. It pel and evangelical kind should be happened, however, that in going in was in a wholesome state of composithe stage-fly from my own parish to ty, and seeing what I was ettling at Kilmartin, a dreadful shower came on, said to me, the minister had a block and the box with my new wig there- head whereon he was wont to dress intil, being on the outside tap of the and fribble his wig, and that although coach, the wind flew and the rain fell, it was a sair heart to her to see on the po and by the help and colleagury of other man's wig upon the same, I was the twa, the seams of the box were welcome to use my freedoms thereinvaded, and the wig, when I took it with. Accordingly, the blockhead, on out on the Saturday night, was just a the end of a stick, like the shank of clash o’ weet.

carpet-besom, was brought intil the “ At that time o' night, there wasná room; and the same being stuck into a barber to be had for love or money the finger-hole of a buffet-stool, 168 within three miles o' the Manse ; in myself

to dress and fribble with me deed I dinna think, for that matter, new wig, and Mrs Keckle the while there was a creature o' the sort

within sat beside me, and we had some very

« ZurückWeiter »