THE world is grown old, and her pleasures are past;
The world is grown old, and her form may not last;
The world is grown old, and trembles for fear;
For sorrows abound, and judgment is near!
The sun in the heaven is languid and pale;
And feeble and few are the fruits of the vale;
And the hearts of the nations fail them for fear,
For the world is grown old, and judgment is near !
The king on his throne, the bride in her bower,
The children of pleasure all feel the sad hour;
The roses are faded, and tasteless the cheer,
For the world is grown old, and judgment is near!
The world is grown old!—but should we complain, Who have tried her, and know that her promise is vain ?
Our heart is in heaven, our home is not here,
And we look for our crown when judgment is near !
AUSE not with lingering foot, O pilgrim, here; Pierce the deep shadows of the mountain-side; Firm be thy step, thy heart unknown to fear, To brighter worlds this thorny path will guide.
Then shall thy feet approach the calm abode,
To near the mansions of supreme delight; Pause not-but tread this consecrated road,— 'Tis the dark basin of the heavenly height.
Behold, to cheer thee on the toilsome way,
How many a fountain glitters down the hill!
Pure gales, inviting, softly round thee play,
Bright sunshine guides-and wilt thou linger
still?
Oh! enter there, where, freed from human strife,
Hope is reality, and time is life!
IS said the angel-watchers
T Their heavenly mansions leave,
And earthward wing their courses
Upon a Christmas Eve.
And o'er the earthly dwellings,
Whence songs of praise arise,
They pause with folded pinions,
And mild and gracious eyes.
Those merciful bright spirits,
How patiently they wait,
And gather in their bosoms
Those prayers for heaven's gate;
And gaze upon the snowy earth
As a bride, in virgin-white,
Adorn'd to meet her husband
In robes of glittering light.
And to that heavenly bride they sing
The songs she loves to hear,
Since first the Hebrew prophet said,
"Daughter! incline thine ear.*
Daughter! forget thy father's house-
Glorious thy house shall be-
The virgins that thy fellows are,
Shall bear thee company.'
"Of diverse colours make thy robe,
Yet pure from stain of sin;
And through the everlasting doors
Ye all shall enter in.
Fight the good fight of faith; to thee
The victory shall be given,
Church militant defended
By the chivalry of heaven!
"Oh! dweller in the wilderness,
Thy praises now prefer,
More precious in the sight of God.
Than frankincense and myrrh.
Adorn thy breast and crown thy brow
With those immortal flowers
Thou canst not find, thou canst not raise,
Within thine earthly bowers.
"Long, long has been thy pilgrimage,
And desolate thy way;
But the Morning Star has risen-
It is near the dawn of day.
Louder and nearer calls the voice-
The voice that calls thee home;
Bride of the Lord, lift up thy voice!
Lord Jesus, quickly come."
TAR of the East, whose beacon-light
A gleam on Bethlehem threw,
And thither by that wondrous sight
Arabia's sages drew,
On thee in thought we love to gaze
In western climes afar,
And think on thy mysterious rays,
Thou lovely eastern star!
Fair is the star of eve that sheds
Her light betokening rest,
And fair the morning star that leads
The day in glory dress'd;
But still more fair thy form arose,
And lovelier to behold,
Which of a more serene repose,
A brighter glory told.
Hail, thou! whose silvery radiance led
Those Magian chiefs to bring
Their choicest gifts, in worship spread,
Before Judea's King;
That glorious Sun, whose harbinger
Thy light was made to shine,
And, like the pillar'd flame, to bear
Aloft salvation's sign.
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