Abbildungen der Seite

Lives but for him, who liv'd for this alone,
Form of our form, in fashion of his own,
That GOD with man might live for ever one!

Hail, wondrous love! surpassing angels sight!
Lost in its depth, and blinded by its light,
Hail! thou in whom the wide extremes are seen,
Of GOD Jehovah-and of man with men.

All hail! in whom concentre all in one:
Hail all thou art! and all that thou hast done!
Unrivall'd yet, let all thy works adore;
Who died a man, is GOD for evermore!

But utterance fails-our feeble spirits faint,
Nor more thy person than thy passion paint.
Supreme in both, in both supreme of all;
Fountain of life, and love's original!
Source of thyself, unmade and underiv'd;
As self-existent, and as self-depriv'd.
Conceiv'd and born, was crucify'd and dead :
His creature's offspring, was creation's head.
Life in himself, to take or to resign,
In each as mortal, and in each divine.
Hail then again-thy Spirit cries, "All hail!"
Tho' worlds despair, and all creation fail.

Yet kind permit, and with thy wonted love
Our weakness spare, nor in thy wrath reprove
Our glowing zeal; but let thy goodness hear
Our silence speak: what tho' our tongues forbear?

Our hearts shall muse, our raptur'd wonder feel,
Our lives express, and life's obedience tell.
Fix'd on this view our willing feet shall move,
From earth's attraction, to our hope above.
In all thy paths, in all thy precepts tread,
Whate'er thy life, or written word hath said.
In meek compliance with thy sov'reign will:
In action fervid, and in suff'ring-still.
Waiting thy call from earth's inglorious strife,
To living joys, and heav'n's unending life.
Sweetly compos'd, resign our parting breath,
Answer thy smile, and hail the tyrant-Death.
Launch undismay'd beyond the solar bound:
With prophets number'd, and with martyrs found.
Where wait the saints, for better things prepar'd,
Their final glory, and their full reward.

Our bodies laid on earth's capacious breast,
In peace shall slumber, and in hope shall rest,
Till at thy trump we lift our waking eyes,
Start from the tomb, and ready for the skies,
Mount all renew'd, and as thine own divine,
Our shining forms their kindred spirits join.

Till thus restor'd, our rising head we meet,
Reign on his throne, or prostrate at his feet:
In heav'n's high dome eternal trophies raise,
Our joy consummate, and complete our praise:


Till in thy light thy future face we see,
Shine in thy strength, and share thy dignity,
Absorb'd, behold the scene thy love displays;
Lost in its beams, and shadow'd by its rays,
The growing wonders ev'ry moment view,
For ever op'ning-and for ever new!




How are thy servants bless'd, O LORD!

How sure is their defence!

Eternal Wisdom is their guide,
Their help Omnipotence.

In foreign realms, and lands remote,

Supported by thy care,

Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt,
And breath'd in tainted air.

Thy mercy sweeten'd every soil,
Made every region please,

The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,
And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas.

Think, O my soul, devoutly think,
How with affrighted eyes
Thou saw'st the wide extended deep
In all its horrors rise!

Confusion dwelt in every face,
And fear in every heart,

When waves on waves, and gulfs in gulfs
O'ercame the pilot's art.

Yet then from all my griefs, O LORD!
Thy mercy set me free,
Whilst in the confidence of pray'r
My soul took hold on thee;

For tho' in dreadful whirls we hung
High on the broken wave,

I knew thou wert not slow to hear,
Nor impotent to save:

The storm was laid, the winds retir'd,

Obedient to thy will;

The sea, that roar'd at thy command,
At thy command was still.

In midst of danger, fear, and death,
Thy goodness I'll adore,

And praise thee for thy mercies past,
And humbly hope for more.

My life, if thou preserv'st my life,

Thy sacrifice shall be ;

And death, if death must be my doom,
Shall join my soul to thee.






IT must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well!
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread, this inward horror
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
"Tis the Divinity that stirs within us ;

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,

« ZurückWeiter »