THE MILLENNIUM. BUT who shall see the glorious day, When pain shall cease, and every tear Then, Judah! thou no more shalt mourn Thy days of splendor shall return, And all be new again. The fount of life shall then be quaff'd And every wind that blows shall waft HYMN TO THE STARS. Ay, there ye shine, and there have shone, Each rolling burningly, alone, Through boundless space and countless time. Ay, there ye shine! the golden dews That pave the realms by seraphs trod; There, through yon echoing vault, diffuse Ye visible spirits! bright as erst Young Eden's birthnight saw ye shine Gold frets to dust,—yet there ye are ; Enshrined an everlasting soul! And does it not-since your bright throngs Could man but see what ye have seen, From all that is, to what has been, The glance how rich! the range how vast! The birth of time, the rise, the fall Of empires, myriads, ages flown, Thrones, cities, tongues, arts, worships,-all The things whose echoes are not gone. Ye saw rapt Zoroaster send His soul into your mystic reign; Ye saw the adoring Sabian bendThe living hills his mighty fane! Beneath his blue and beaming sky, He worshipped at your lofty shrine, And deemed he saw, with gifted eye, The Godhead in his works divine. And there ye shine, as if to mock The storm, the bolt, the earthquake's shock, Drought, famine, plague, and blood, and flame, Ay, there ye roll-emblems sublime Of Him, whose spirit o'er us moves, Beyond the clouds of grief and crime, Still shining on the world he loves:Nor is one scene to mortals given, That more divides the soul and sod, Than yon proud heraldry of heavenYon burning blazonry of God! HYMN FROM PSALM CXLVIII. BEGIN, my soul, the exalted lay! And praise the Almighty's name. Lo! heaven, and earth, and seas, and skies, To swell the inspiring theme. Ye fields of light, celestial plains, I cust-ret there re are; TAYS THE Cmond-there ye roll I as each star EISTA EL everlasting soul! And does I pat-se your bright throngs Could man but see what ye have seen, From all that is, to what has been, The Shore how rich! the range how vast! The birth of time, the rise, the fall Of empires, myriads, ages flown, Thrones, ches tongues, arts, worships,-all The things whose echoes are not gone. Te saw rapt Zoroaster send His soul into your mystic reign; Ye sow the adoring Sabian bend— The ring hills his mighty fane! Beneath his blue and beaming sky, He worshipped at your lofty shrine, And deemed he saw, with gifted eye, The Godhead in his works divine. |