Shall Sahara's parched ranger Still shall Christendom the stranger Where Cleopatra the pearl Mingled, is thy pearl forbid? Shall not men the Cross unfurl On the Pyramid ! May not upon night again Open the immortal morn, Where Cyprian taught, and Origen Adorned the priestly lawn? May not hamlets that festoon, Beautifully, Niger's flood, With Alexandria and Wednoon, Be given unto God? On the coast of nations, look! Shall they not, at thy rebuke, May not Ethiopia spread Heart and hand to Thee ! May not, for the cries that went WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD. I hear the voice Of the expecting grave. - Martyr of Antioch. THE grave hath voice, and seems to say, Is given, the sorrowing, the distressed, The troubled, whom there's none to cheer,But not for him that is at rest. Weep for the living wretch, whose sighs Not him whose parting pangs are over. Few are the living; who may know How few, compared to the unknown Nations of men that sleep below! Weep for the sufferer who is tost Weep, weep for her who comes to weep Where her sweet infant lies full low; Not for the spark whose upward leap Hath made it flame with cherubs so! Weep for the prisoner, for the heir Of misery, toil, and tears and pain; But not for those, escaped, who share Immortal joys, undying gain. BEAUTY. Thus she stood amid the stooks, MODEST Beauty praises God, When it sends its glance abroad, And religion of a face With a sweet expression blent! From the mouth of pearls and gems, From the nameless, charming whole A SIMILE. In the dew-drop you behold Myriad splendors merged in one; Showing, like a sea of gold, All the glories of the sun. Man, before the throne above, Where no sinful foot hath trod, Thus reflects the perfect love Of the awful, glorious God. KNOW THE HEAVENLY REST. ye the earth, on which ye tread, Is a pleasant garden, merrily spread With fruits of the best, with earliest flowers, Dimpled with dells and decked with bowers,That the saint, nigh to faint, may rest him there, And the heart may part with its griefs in prayer; And taste those draughts of the ravishing love That flows in the bosoms of the blest above? Know ye the earth, so pleasant to-day, Melt from the heavens with evening's breeze - Know ye there remaineth a heavenly rest |