Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Thou who, houseless, sole, forlorn,
Long hast borne the proud world's scorn,
Long hast roamed the barren waste,
Weary pilgrim, hither haste !
Ye who, tossed on beds of pain,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain
Ye whose swollen and sleepless eyes
Watch to see the morning rise —
Ye by fiercer anguish torn,
In strong remorse for guilt who mourn,
Here repose your heavy care
A wounded spirit who can bear!
Sinner, come! for here is found
Balm that flows for every wound -
Peace, that ever shall endure -
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.

ANNA LÆTITIA BARBAULD.

Rocked in the Cradle of the Weep.

Rocked in the cradle of the deep,
I lay me down in peace to sleep;
Secure I rest upon the wave,
For Thou, O Lord! hast power to save.
I know thou wilt not slight my call,
For Thou dost mark the sparrow's fall;
And calm and peaceful shall I sleep,
Rocked in the cradle of the deep.
When in the dead of night I lie
And gaze upon the trackless sky,
The star-bespangled heavenly scroll,
The boundless waters as they roll,-
I feel Thy wondrous power to save
From perils of the stormy wave:
Rocked in the cradle of the deep,
I calmly rest and soundly sleep.
And such the trust that still were mine,
Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine,
Or though the tempest's fiery breath
Roused me from sleep to wreck and death!
In ocean-cave, still safe with Thee
The germ of immortality!
And calm and peaceful shall I sleep,
Rocked in the cradle of the deep.

Emma WILLARD.

The Watchman's Report.

WATCHMAN, tell us of the night

What its signs of promise are ! Traveller, o'er yon mountain's height

See that glory-beaming star! Watchman, does its beauteous ray

Aught of hope or joy foretell ? Traveller, yes; it brings the day

Promised day of Israel. Watchman, tell us of the night

Higher yet that star ascends! Traveller, blessedness and light,

Peace and truth, its course portends. Watchman, will its beams alone

Gild the spot that gave them birth ? Traveller, ages are its own

See, it bursts o'er all the earth!

Jesus, Lover of my Soul.

Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high. Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,

Till the storm of life is past : Safe into Thy haven guide

Oh, receive my soul at last.

Watchman, tell us of the night,

For the morning seems to dawn. Traveller, darkness takes its flight

Doubt and terror are withdrawn. Watchman, let thy wandering cease;

Hie thee to thy quiet home. Traveller, lo! the Prince of Peace – Lo! the Son of God is come.

Jonx BOWRING.

Other refuge have I none

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; Leave, ah! leave me not alone

Still support and comfort me. All my trust on Thee is stayed,

All my help from Thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of Thy wing.

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

I ask of Thee no wonders

No changing white or red; I dream not Thou art living,

I love and prize Thee dead. That salutary deadness

I seek through want and pain, From which God's own high power can bid Our virtue rise again.

JULIA WARD HOWE.

Sonnet.

My Spirit Longeth for Thee.
My spirit longeth for 'Thee

Within my troubled breast,
Although I be unworthy

Of so divine a Guest.

In the desert of the Holy Land I strayed,
Where Christ once lived, but seems to live no more;
In Lebanon my lonely home I made ;
I heard the wind among the cedars roar,
And saw far off the Dead Sea's solemn shore-
But 'tis a dreary wilderness, I said,
Since the prophetic spirit hence has sped.
Then from the convent in the vale 1 heard,
Slow chanted forth, the everlasting Word -
Saying, “ I am He that liveth, and was dead ;
And lo I am alive for evermore.”
Then forth upon my pilgrimage I fare,
Resolved to find and praise Him everywhere.

ANONYMOUS.

Of so divine a Guest

Unworthy though I be, Yet has my heart no rest

Unless it come from Thee.

« ZurückWeiter »