Along the mountain ledges green The Desert's spicy stores : 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 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, So bright, so dark as this? And owning the true bliss ! Salted with fire they seem, to shew May undecaying live. 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, Shall see them meekly kneel: Its woe and burthen feel. Gentiles! with fix'd yet awful eye 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 (If the word be not too bold,) grows old Sovereign masters of all hearts ! He who gave you breath to sing, His Hosannas here below ;- Linger not with sin and woe. But if ye should hold your peace, song would cease 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 Who in that divinest spell Give us grace to listen well. |