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PILGRIMS ON PLYMOUTH ROCK.
Mayflow'r"'s anchor'd in the wintry bay; And now the crowded boat with busy oar Glides onward to the solitary shore,
Where, just emerging from the wave, there lay A Rock, which trusting feet would not betray.
On this the Pilgrims land, to float no more
But here to fix their dwelling-place for aye.-
Which o'er th’Atlantic wave their feet had sought
THE LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE, prize untold, Each shackle broke which bigotry had wrought
Symbol, which sure our eyes do not bemock,
As now, methinks, my fated hour draws nigh,
With all its scenes before my vision clear,
To dim the lustre of my heav'n-lift eye?
As though to my blest soul not rich and dear? Is all my love to lov'd ones insincere,
That I am calm while other spirits cry? Oh no! I love them; but love others more
Our common SAVIOR, victim on the tree
Their Mother and their Sister gone before
Harvests of glorious Good about to reap,-
I see thee, outcast from thy native shore,
Exile from England lov’d, to toil and die;
Yet in both lands what name is honor'd more
That Providence, which thus uplifts on high
And makes them stars to shine forevermore. The Truth thou didst discern and didst maintain
Freedom to worship God-with courage bold,
Unaw'd by foes in pow'r and pride arrayed.
Nor thee forget, its champion of old,
As city, near volcanic mountain's brow,
When heav'd by earthquake in its strongest wall, Trembles, and seems just tott'ring to its fall;
Such seem'd my frame of clay beneath the blow. 'Twas Wisdom's way to make the suff"rer know
The lesson oft forgot, needful for all,
That heav'nly bliss is nigh or endless woe.
The next I joyful felt God's arm of might,
And rose as one recover'd from the dead.
Thee, Lord, I praise, whose mercies overflow;
Of intellectual worlds Truth is the sun,
Outpouring on the mind heav'n's purest light, Before which quickly fly all shades of night.
And as his daily course the Truth doth run,
Each plant of virtue grows up in our sight;
With thee has truth, God's truth, the vict'ry won? Alas! by ev'ry cheat and wicked lie
Man is misled, deluded to his woe;
And o'er him Satan holds dominion high,
Till God doth interpose in wondrous love,
O death, how dreadful is thy certain doom,
The beautiful all hidden from my eye
And must I join them in the loathsome tomb ? Yet sure the spring-flow'r does not fail to bloom,
When wintry frosts give way to genial sky.
Nor for the spirit's flight from all earth's gloom. Then, Death, thy presence brings me no affright,
But wakes my loud, exulting voice through grace,
A shout of glorious victor in the fight,
Death is quick transfer of the soul to heaven,
66. GOD'S MARVELLOUS WORKS. Ps. 104.
'Tis God, who made and heav'n and earth sustains :
We render homage due.- When floods arose,
He made all springs for mountains and for plains. T'enrich the earth he gives his plenteous rains ;
The herb for man and grass for cattle grows.The moon for seasons made, the sun too knows
His going down, when thickest darkness reigns; Then forest beasts creep forth, who shun the light.
To God young lions for their meat do cry;
The sun ariseth,--down in their dens they lie : But man unto his work goes out till night.
Thy works, O Lord, how manifold and great!
67. THE LAST WORDS OF A MINISTER.
CHRIST and redeeming mercy,—these alone
His themes, as soon his life would cease to move;
The Son of God from his high throne above
By anguish of the cross our guilt t’ atone, Immortal life by rising bring to light,
For the deprav'd God's Spirit to procure.
For weakest Christian all his promis’d might, And thus the failing hope to re-assure :
Compar'd with Christ count all things then but loss, Nor glory save in Christ and in his cross !"
PLYMOUTH MONUMENT LAID 1859.
This upbuilt monument, though broad and high
As tow'ring pyramid on Egypt's plain,
Attempts to show forth to the kindled eye.
No child of ours shall wear a galling chain !"Such purpose bore them o'er the stormy main :
Here was their home, and here their bodies lie. We'll build their noble virtues in our hearts,
The love of Truth, the love of Good and Right,
The Faith which sees beyond our earthly sight, The Zeal which love to God and man imparts:
Such MONUMENT we will not fail to raise,
How vast the change by death in man's estate ?
How silent now the orator's proud tongue,
How fled the concord of sweet sounds, which late Drew to the songstress admiration great ?
How heedless now the monarch to the throng
The rich man's gold, which yielding to his fate He leaves behind ?—Whate'er on earth ye love
Ye soon must lose ; then seek with earnest heart
The proffer'd blessings near Christ's throne above: Once gain'd, there's naught can them and you dispart
While you shall live ; nor shall one joy be gone While endless centuries of bliss roll on !