Could we but climb where Moses stood, Not Jordan's stream nor death's cold flood, THE HAPPY LAND.-P. M. Where saints in glory stand, Oh, how they sweetly sing, Come to that happy land, Why will you doubting stand? Oh, we shall happy be, When from sin and sorrow free; Bright, in that happy land, Beams every eye; Kept by a Father's hand, Oh, then to glory run, Be a crown and kingdom won, We reign for aye. A GLORIOUS WORLD OF LIGHT. There is a glorious world of light Where saints departed, clothed in white, The bliss they feel we, too, shall know, That is the place where we shall go This is the joy we ought to seek, Soon will our earthly race be run, Great God! impress the serious thought That both the teachers and the taught SPIRITUAL WORSHIP. Though glorious, O God! must Thy temple have been, On the day of its first dedication, When the cherubim's wings widely waving were seen, On high o'er the ark's holy station : When even the chosen of Levi, though skill'd Retir'd from the cloud which the temple then fill'd, Though awfully grand was Thy majesty then; And by whom was that ritual for ever repeal'd? To enter the Oracle, where is reveal'd, Not the cloud, but the brightness of heaven. Who, having once entered, hath shewn us the way, Not with shadowy forms of that earlier day, This, this is the worship the Saviour made known, By the patriarch's well, sitting weary, alone, How sublime, yet how simple the homage He taught Woman! believe me, the hour is near, For God is a Spirit! and they who aright And many that prophecy's truth can declare, The temple that Solomon built to His name, Extinguished long since is its altar's bright flame, But the Christian, made wise by a wisdom divine, THE LAND WHICH NO MORTAL MAY KNOW. Though earth has full many a beautiful spot, As a poet or painter might show, Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright, There the crystalline stream, bursting forth from the throne, Flows on, and for ever will flow; Its waves, as they roll, are with melody rife, And there on its margin, with leaves ever green, Of the land which no mortal may know. There, too, are the lost! whom we lov'd on this earth, AM, There the pale orb of night and the fountain of day, Oh! who but must pine in this dark vale of tears, From its clouds and its shadows to go, To walk in the light of the glory above, And to share in the peace, and the joy, and the love, Of the land which no mortal may know. ON THE DEATH OF A CHRISTIAN. Thou art gone to the grave,-but we will not deplore thee, Tho' sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Saviour has passed thro' its portals before thee, And the lamp of His love is thy guide thro' the gloom. |