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I stood not by thy feverish bed,
I looked not on thy glazing eye, Nor gently lulled thy aching head,
Nor viewed thy dying agony ; I felt not what my parents felt,
The doubt-the terror-the distress ;-
My soul was spared that wretchedness :
With boyhood's joy, at length was beaming, And thoughts of home and raptures sweet
In every eye but mine were gleaming; But I, amidst that youthful band
Of bounding hearts and beaming eyes,
Nor felt those wonted ecstacies!
"The pleasures of my home were fled ;-
No smiling faces met me now,
Grief sat upon my mother's brow; I heard her, as she kissed me, sigh; A tear stood in my father's eye; My little brothers round me pressed, In gay, unthinking childhood blessed Long, long, that hour has passed; but when Shall I forget its gloomy scene ! The Sabbath came. With mournful face I sought my brother's burial-place; That shrine, which when I last had viewed, In vigour by my side he stood. I gazed around with fearful eye: All things reposed in sanctity. I reached the chancel,-nought was changed :: The altar decently arranged, The pure white cloth above the shrine, The consecrated bread and wine, All was the same. I found no trace Of sorrow in that holy place. One hurried glance I downward gave, My foot was on my brother's grave!
And years have passed—and thou art now
Forgotten in thy silent tomb;
My father's eye has lost its gloom ;
Another victim by thy side;
Blest are ye both! your ashes rest
My breast is not unsullied now;
Cut their deep furrows on my brow,-
And loved, and linked my heart with others.;
As mine was blended with my brother's !
The spring of life's unclouded weather,
My brother, grew in love together.
ON THE WONDERS OF REDEMPTION.
Thou most indulgent, most tremendous Power! Still more tremendous, for thy wondrous love! That arms, with awe more awful, thy commands ; And foul transgression dips in sevenfold night; How our hearts tremble at thy love immense! In love immense, inviolably just! Thou, rather than thy justice should be stained, Did'st stain the cross; and work of wonders far
The greatest, that thy dearest far might bleed.
Bold thought! shall I dare speak it, or repress? Should man more execrate, or boast, the guilt Which roused such vengeance? which such love in
Not thus, our infidels the eternal draw,
Ye brainless wits ! ye baptized infidels !
T'he sun beheld it—no, the shocking scene
And is devotion virtue ? 'Tis compelled : What heart of stone but glows at thoughts like these ? Such contemplations mount us; and should mount The mind still higher; nor ever glance on man, Unraptured, uninflamed. - Where roll my thoughts To rest from wonders ? Other wonders rise; And strike where'er they roll: my soul is caught : Heaven's sovereign blessings, clustering from the cross, Rush on her, in a throng, and close her round, The prisoner of amaze !-In his blest life, I see the path, and, in his death, the price, And in his great ascent, the proof supreme Of immortality.--And did he rise ? Hear, O ye nations ! hear it, o ye dead ! He rose ! he rose ! He burst the bars of death. Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates ! And give the king of glory to come in. Who is the king of glory? He who left His ihrone of glory, for the pang of death : Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates ! And give the king of glory to come in. Who is the king of glory? He who slew