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Mean time, the lambent prodigies on high
Joy'd with his future feast, the thunder roars,
In chorus to th' enormous harmony;
And halloos to his offspring from sulphureous stores, Applauding how they tilt and how they fly,
And their each nimble turn, and radiant embassy.
The moon turns paler at the sight,
And all the blazing orbs deny their light;
A train of glittʼring terrors draws behind,
And there erects her royal stand,
In seven-fold winding jet her conscious temples bound.
'The stars next starting from their spheres In giddy revolutions leap and bound. Whilst this with double fury glares,
And meditates new wars,
And wheels in sportive gyres around,
The general ruin shall increase,
And banish all the votaries of peace. No more the stars, with paler beams, Shall tremble o'er the midnight streams, But travel downward to behold,
What mimics 'em so twinkling there;
And like Narcissus as they gain more near,
Or slake their lust, as in the stream they roll.
Whilst the world burns, and all the orbs below
They sink, and unsupported leave the skies,
Which fall abrupt, and tell their torment in the noise. Then see th' Almighty Judge, sedate and bright,
Cloth'd in imperial robes of light,
His wings the winds, rough storms the chariot bear, And nimbler harbingers before him fly,
And with officious rudeness brush the air, Halt as he halts, then doubling in their flight, In horrid sport, with one another vie,
And leave behind quick winding tracks of light;
Then urging, to their ranks they close,
And shiv'ring lest they start, a sailing caravan compose.
The mighty Judge rides in tempestuous state, Whilst menial guards of flame his orders wait; His waving vestments shine,
Bright as the sun, which lately did its beams resign, And burnish'd wreaths of light shall make his form divine;
Strong beams of majesty around his temples play, And the transcendent gaiety of his face allay.
His Father's reverend characters he'll wear, And both o'erwhelm with light, and over-awe with fear. Myriads of angels shall be there,
And I, perhaps, close the tremendous rear. Angels, the first and fairest sons of day, Clad with eternal youth, and as their vestments gay.
'Nor for magnificence alone,
To brighten and enlarge the pageant scene; Shall we encircle his more dazzling throne, And swell the lustre of his pompous train ; The nimble ministers of bliss or woe,
We shall attend, and save, or deal the blow,
The welcome news,
Thro' ev'ry angel's breast, fresh raptures shall diffuse.
When Satan with his pow'rs shall sink to endless doom;
Then Raphael, big with life, the trump shall sound; From falling spheres, the joyful music shall rebound, And seas and shores shall catch and propagate it round. Louder he'll blow, and it shall speak more shrill, Than when, from Sinai's hill,
In thunder, through the horrid redd'ning smoke,
We'll shout around with martial joy,
And thrice the vaulted skies shall rend, and thrice our shouts reply.
Then first th' Archangel's voice, aloud,
Shall cheerfully salute the day and throng;
And hallelujahs fill the crowd,
And I, perhaps, shall close the song.
From its long sleep, all human race shall rise; And see the morn, and Judge advancing in the skies. To their long tenements the souls return,
Whilst down the steep of Heav'n, as swift the Judge
These look illustrious bright, no more to mourn,
PRAYER is the soul's sincere desire,
The motion of a hidden fire,
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
Prayer is the simplest form of speech
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach
Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
His watchword at the gates of death,-
Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
In word, and deed, and mind,
Their fellowship they find.
Nor prayer is made on earth alone,
And Jesus on the eternal throne
O Thou, by whom we come to God,
CAMERONIAN MIDNIGHT HYMN.
OH! thou that dwellest in the heavens so high,
Where the dazzling fields need no other light,
The powers of darkness are all abroad,