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Behold his sainted spirit stand
Across a golden lyre
His gentle fingers stray ;
Of hallelujahs die away,
There, thron'd as in the sun,
This world seems dark and dull ! And now to THEE, whose arm hath won
That palace beautiful, His fond and grateful songs arise, Through the long SPRING OF PARADISE.
Sun, moon, and stars, by day and night,
The bright blue sky above our head,
Sweet flowers that hill and dale adorn,
and corn, The clouds that rise, the showers that fall, The wind that blows,—God sends them all.
The beasts that
with downward eye, The birds that perch, and sing, and fly, The fishes swimming in the sea, God's creatures are as well as we.
But us He form’d for better things,
face, And thankful hearts, to seek his grace.
Thus God loved man; and more than thus,
But we must live to Him below,
J. MONTGOMERY, ESQ.
Lines by Mr. Montgomery, of Sheffield,
On a Monument placed in the Chancel of the Parish Church, Preston.
In Memory of
By the oversetting of a boat,
On the 24th of April, A.D. 1822.
In testimony of their deep concern,
Of this truly awful dispensation.
They sail'd in hope, but they return'd no more; Youth, health, and pleasure, cheer'd them on the
way ; Brief was the voyage; yet they reach'd a shore
Beyond the seaman's track, ere close of day. Low in the grave their ashes slumber now : Reader, thy days are number'd-where art thou ?
Though on the stream of time thy vessel glide,
And pure as heaven the waters seem to roll, Ere long, in calm or tempest, shall the tide
Cast on a land unknown thy naked soul : Ah ! then, when life and death no more shall be, Where, Reader, wilt thou spend eternity?
By a Young Lady,
How sweet is the song of the Lark, as she springs To welcome the morning with joy on her wings! The higher she rises, the sweeter she sings ;
And she sings, while we hear her no more ; When storms and dark clouds veil the sun from our
sight, She has mounted above them, she shines in his light There, far from the scenes that disturb and affright,
She loves her gay music to pour.
It is thus with the Christian :-he sees from afar, The day-spring appearing, the bright morning-star; He quits this dark valley of sorrow and care,
For the land whence the day-spring is given ;
He sings in his way from this cloud-covered spot;
It blends with the chorus in heaven !
The Warvest Moon.
All hail ! thou lovely queen of night,
Bright empress of the starry sky
Beams gladness on the gazer's eye,
Thou shinest bright aš cloudless noon,
Before thy glory-Harvest Moon !
In the deep stillness of the night,
When weary Labour is at rest,
The wood—the lawn—the mountain's breasi,
Thy radiant glory all unfurled,
Far down upon the silent world.