80. GLORYING IN THE CROSS. Let it not be, that e'er my soul in aught Should glory touching on delight or pride, Save in the wondrous cross of HIM, who died. A sacrifice of worth beyond all thought, With inf'nite blessings to the guilty fraught. Give me faith's vision-let who will derideO blessed JESUS! of thy pierced side: I boast of thee and what thy love has wrought. Beauty, and wealth, fame, dignity, and might, A victor army dress'd in splendid show, A throne and rev'rent crowds around that bow,Say, what is all that dazzles human sight, Compar'd with glories, which in thee, God's Son, My eyes shall see while endless years roll on? 81. MAN WITHOUT REVELATION. Poor man without God's heav'nly light Alas, my brother, art thou then so wise, Thou know'st the Gospel false? And dost thou choose To put to hazard yon, blue, blessed skies, And all, that God can give, wilt madly lose? Keen voice from one, now lost among the dead, I hear," Ah! whither has thy Reason fled?" That God is One by all his works is shown, One Mind, most wise and good, bears boundless sway. Yet man deprav'd refuses to obey, Nor gains without electing love the crown. Thanks be to God for his redeeming love, Announc'd by Him, who hung upon the tree,His Son, who left his glorious seat above Our guilt t'atone; but who from death set free · Lives on his throne. Then let us all adore The Father and the Lamb forevermore ! The when and how we know not, but to die 84. CHURCHES OF PIEDMONT, 1851. Long since it was th' unrivall'd poet's prayer, To sight, but desolate of truth and bare.— Where once the vallies were all red with blood. 85. THE LORD'S SUPPER. "This do," said CHRIST, "in memory of me." No thrall, who drops his chain, and walks forth free, 86. THE INDIAN PREACHER. Mohegan Оccom!—not a chieftain's son,- And guide their wand'ring steps to heav'n above 87. SERMON IN MY NATIVE PLACE. 1851. Of swift-wing'd years how rapid is the flight? By him supplied to fit me for the fight, The ceaseless contest for true liberty;— For truth alone can set the sinner free, And bring the blind from darkness into light. Alas, how chang'd the scene? For then were here Full many a form of loveliness now fled,— Father and Mother, Brothers, Sisters dear, And many friends,-all sleeping with the dead. What were I now, did not God's truth divine With bright-hued hopes upon my vision shine? S8. NATIONAL CONVULSIONS, 1849. The tempest rages through the earth around, Thrones shake and totter, as the storm-wind raves, And mightiest empires tremble at the sound: Man has no structure on the solid ground, Which bides the tumult, or its fury braves: The sev'n-hill'd City, which the Tiber laves, Though call'd eternal, shakes and is astound: E'en its proud chief and priest, in sad affright, Flees for his safety to a distant shore, Lest falling temples on his head alight: What is there stable 'mid this wild uproar?The CHURCH heeds not the angry billows' shock ;THY CHURCH, O LORD, is founded on a rock! In all the earth, O Lord, thy name how great, And o'er all worlds, in majesty elate, Thou reignest king. Then what is man's estate, How low,--in which through pride he doth repine? Yet thou didst give him rank almost divine, When him with pow'r to rule thou didst create(Only a step beneath the angels high—) O'er oxen, sheep, and beasts wild roving wide, O, God! who dost all praise and glory claim, |