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The weeping Seed-time and joyful Harvest. Psalm 126.
1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers !
Troubled with storms, and big with showers;
2 Yet let the sons of
3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these watered furrows sown;
And with fresh verdure bless our eyes ! 4 In secret foldings they contain
Unnumbered ears of golden grain ;
Blessed are they that mourn.
| DEEM not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
3 O there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
But joy shall come with early light.
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Will give him to thy arms again.
And numbered every secret tear;
8 & 4s. M.
S FROM THE SPANISH OP 635.
Don JORGE MANRIQUE.
That lure us here!
The heart's blithe tone ?
age comes on.
3 Our birth is but a starting-place; Life is the running of the race,
And death the goal : There all those glittering toys are brought; That path alone, of all unsought,
Is found of all.
4 O let the soul its slumbers break,
To see how soon
Come stealing on.
i BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given; Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven!
2 Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay ; And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.
He lurks in every flower ;
Its peril every hour.
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
On manhood's middle day.
5 Our eyes have seen the steps of age
Halt feebly towards the tomb;
And dreams of days to come ? 6 Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,
And warns thee of her dead.
To truths divinely given;
Remind thee of thy heaven.
Near Approach of Salvation. 1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes,
And raise your voices high; Awake, and praise that sovereign love,
That shows salvation nigh. 2 On all the wings of time it flies;
Each moment brings it near; Then welcome each declining day!
Welcome each closing year!
Not many mornings rise,
To our admiring eyes. 4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course;
Ye mortal powers, decay;
Ye bring eternal day.
Tracing the Steps of the Pious Dead.
That bears us to the sea !
To vast eternity!
Our fathers, where are they,
With all they call their own? Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,
And wealth and honor, gone.
God of our fathers! hear;
Thou everlasting Friend!
Our souls to thee commend.
Of all the pious dead
We dwell before thy face.
Blessedness of the Righteous in Death.
When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How gently heaves the expiring breast! 2 So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ;