Y! gloriously thou standest there,
Beautiful, boundless firmament!
That swelling wide o'er earth and air,
And round the horizon bent,
With thy bright vault, and sapphire wall,
Dost overhang and circle all.
Far, far below thee, tall old trees
Arise, and piles built up of old,
And hills, whose ancient summits freeze
In the fierce light and cold.
The eagle soars his utmost height,
Yet far thou stretchest o'er his flight.
Thou hast thy frowns-with thee on high
The storm has made his airy seat,
Beyond that soft blue curtain lie
His stores of hail and sleet.
Thence the consuming lightnings break,
There the strong hurricanes awake.
Yet art thou prodigal of smiles
Smiles sweeter than thy frowns are stern: Earth sends, from all her thousand isles, A shout at thy return.
The glory that comes down from thee,
Bathes in deep joy the land and sea.
The sun-the gorgeous sun-is thine,
The pomp that brings and shuts the day,
The clouds that round him change and shine,
The airs that fan his way.
Thence look the thoughtful stars, and there
The meek moon walks the silent air.
And they are fair-a charm is theirs,
That earth, the proud green earth, has not-
With all the forms, and hues, and airs
That haunt her sweetest spot.
We gaze upon thy bright pure sphere
And read of heaven's eternal year.
Oh, when amidst the throng of men,
The heart grows sick of hollow mirth,
How willingly we turn us then
Away from this cold earth,
And look into thy azure breast
For seals of innocence and rest.
FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.
HOU forlorn one, cease thy moan!
All thy pain and all thy sorrow
Are to God, the highest, known :
He leaves thee now, but helps to-morrow.
Trust in God!
The blows He deals, in love are given, That thy soul's health may better fare; So may'st thou know the fear of HeavenConfide in His paternal care!
Hold to God!
God is nigh!
Even then, when far away He seemeth,
When hope of freedom none appears,
Believe so, but for thee He dreameth-
He in His time will dry thy tears.
God is nigh!
If all thy heart to Him thou yieldest,
Thy bitter grief to sweet shall turn ;
If most on Him thy love thou buildest,
Nor darest in rage His will to spurn,
God is thine.
How or when He wills to hear thee,
Still His eye is on thee bent;
Though long thy cross last, bravely bear thee! Its weight at length shall be forespent. Teach not God.
Walk'st thou firm, His path pursuing?
Nor bitter cross, nor woe, nor death
Shall aught avail thy trust undoing,
But all in blessing crown thy faith:
So lov'st thou God.
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.
HEN gathering clouds around I view,
On Him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain;
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
To flee the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do,
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceived by those I prized so well,
He shall His pitying aid bestow-
Who felt on earth severer woe-
At once betray'd, deceived, or fled
By those that shared His daily bread.
When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies,
Yet He, who once vouchsafed to bear
The sick'ning anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
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