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Along the mountain ledges green
The scatter'd sheep at will may glean

The Desert's spicy stores :
The while, with undivided heart,
The shepherd talks with God apart,

And, as he talks, adores.

Ye too, who tend Christ's wildering flock, Well may ye gather round the rock

That once was Sion's hill ; To watch the fire

upon

the mount Still blazing, like the solar fount,

Yet unconsuming still.

Caught from that blaze by wrath divine, Lost branches of the once-lov'd vine,

Now wither’d; spent, and sere, See Israel's sons, like glowing brands, Tost wildly o'er a thousand lands

For twice a thousand year.

God will not quench nor slay them quite, But lifts them like a beacon light

Th’ apostate Church to scare:

Or like pale ghosts that darkling roam, Hovering around their ancient home,

But find no refuge there.

Ye blessed Angels ! if of you
There be, who love the ways to view

Of Kings and Kingdoms here ; (And sure, 'tis worth an Angel's gaze, To see, throughout that dreary maze,

God teaching love and fear :)

Oh say, in all the bleak expanse,
Is there a spot to win your glance,

So bright, so dark as this?
A hopeless faith, a homeless race,
Yet seeking the most holy place,

And owning the true bliss !

Salted with fire they seem, to shew
How spirits lost in endless woe

May undecaying live.
Oh sickening thought ! yet hold it fast
Long as this glittering world shall last,
And hark! amid the flashing fire,
Mingling with tones of fear and ire,

Or sin at heart survive.

a St. Mark ix. 49.

Soft Mercy's undersong'Tis Abraham's God who speaks so loud, His people's cries have pierc'd the cloud,

He sees, He sees their wrongb;

He is come down to break their chain ; Though never more on Sion's fane

His visible ensign wave; 'Tis Sion, wheresoe'er they dwell, Who, with His own true Israel,

Shall own Him strong to save.

He shall redeem them one by one,
Where'er the world-encircling sun

Shall see them meekly kneel:
All that He asks on Israel's part,
Is only, that the captive heart

Its woe and burthen feel.

Gentiles! with fix'd yet awful eye
Turn ye this page of mystery,

b Exod. iii. 7, 8.

Nor slight the warning sound : “ Put off thy shoes from off thy feet“ The place where man his God shall meet,

“ Be sure, is holy ground.”

PALM SUNDAY.

And He answered and said unto them, I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out. St. Luke xix. 40.

YE whose hearts are beating high
With the pulse of Poesy,
Heirs of more than royal race,
Fram'd by Heaven's peculiar grace,
God's own work to do on earth,

(If the word be not too bold,)
Giving virtue a new birth,
And a life that ne'er

grows old

Sovereign masters of all hearts !
Know ye, who hath set your parts ?

He who gave you breath to sing,
By whose strength ye sweep the string,
He hath chosen you, to lead

His Hosannas here below ;-
Mount, and claim your glorious meed;

Linger not with sin and woe.

But if ye should hold your peace,
Deem not that the

song

would cease
Angels round His glory-throne,
Stars, His guiding hand that own,
Flowers, that grow beneath our feet,

Stones in earth's dark womb that rest, High and low in choir shall meet,

Ere His Name shall be unblest.

Lord, by every minstrel tongue
Be thy praise so duly sung,
That thine angels' harps may ne'er
Fail to find fit echoing here:
We the while, of meaner birth,

Who in that divinest spell
Dare not hope to join on earth,

Give us grace to listen well.

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