Lays for the Sabbath: A Collection of Religious Poetry

A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
Ah! when did wisdom covet length of days,
Ah me! these youthful bearers, robed in white,
All I feel, and hear, and see,

A mother's love-how sweet the name,

And is there care in heaven? and is there love,
And Rachel lies in Ephrath's land,

A Parish Priest was of the pilgrim train,
As the good shepherd leads his sheep,

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17

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
Ay, there ye shine, and there have shone,

137

139

Begin, my soul, the exalted lay!
Behold the western evening light,
Behold this ruin! 'Twas a skull,
Bereft of all, when hopeless care,
Beyond, beyond that boundless sea,

141

288

58

34

229

Blessed be thy name for ever,.

88

Blessed state! and happy he,

273

Brighter than the rising day,

124

Bright be the skies that cover thee,.

236

Build'st thou on Wealth?-its wings are ever spread, 241

But who shall see the glorious day,

139

Creature of air and light,

Child of the dust, I heard thee mourn,
Come, Disappointment, come!

Page.

Few are thy days, and full of wo,

117

Forgive thy foes;-nor that alone, .

220

From early childhood, even, as hath been said,

126

From Greenland's icy mountains,

173

Group after group are gathering, such as prest,

Heave! mighty ocean, heave!

51

63

Here, in a little cave,

He sung of God, the mighty source,

He who delights to trace, with serious thought,
How fair is the rose! what a beautiful flower,

202

242

243

192

How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps,

19

How shall I praise thee, Lord of light?
How sweetly flow'd the Gospel's sound,
How sweet, upon this sacred day,
How sweet and solemn, all alone,
How wither'd, faded, seems the form,
"Humility," said Lena, as she drew,

122

166

180

224

41

47

I am monarch of all I survey,
I dream'd:-I saw a rosy child,
If all our hopes and all our fears,
If human kindness meets return,
If I had Jubal's chorded shell,
If love, the noblest, purest, best,
If that high world, which lies beyond,

I had found out a sweet green spot,
I hear thee speak of a better land,
I love to muse, when none are nigh,

I love to see the falling leaf,
I love the organ's joyous swell,

I seek the mountain cleft: alone,

Is there a time when moments flow,
Is there a lone and dreary hour,

It is not that my lot is low,

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152

110

112

92

It is the one true Light,

215

It must be sweet in childhood to give back,

32

It thunders! sons of dust, in reverence bow!

151

Lord, who art merciful as well as just,
Low in the dim and sultry west,

242

149

Methinks it is good to be here,

260

Mother, I am dying now,

66

My God, all nature owns thy sway,

169

My mother's voice! how often creep,

Nay, William, nay, not so; the changeful year,

No moon hung o'er the sleeping earth,
Now breathes the ruddy Morn around,

O'er Kedron's stream, and Salem's height,
O fear not thou to die,

Oh! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,

O, the wrath of the Lord is a terrible thing!

233

O think that, while you're weeping here,

113

O thou whose lips can well repeat,

193

O Thou whom eye hath seen not-nor shall see,

209

O Thou Great Being! what thou art,

226

! would you be assured you love your God,

284

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