Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

SELF-LOVE AND TRUTH INCOMPATIBLE.

FROM thorny wilds a monster came, That filled my soul with fear and shame; The birds, forgetful of their mirth, Droop'd at the sight, and fell to earth; When thus a sage addressed mine ear, Himself unconscious of a fear:

"Whence all this terror and surprise, "Distracted looks and streaming eyes? "Far from the world and its affairs, "The joy it boasts, the pain it shares, "Surrender, without guile or art, "To God, an undivided heart; "The savage form, so feared before, "Shall scare your trembling soul no

[blocks in formation]

"Fix all your love on God alone, "Chuse but His will, and hate your own, "No fear shall in your path be found, "The dreary waste shall bloom around, "And you, through all your happy days, "Shall bless His name, and sing His praise."

O lovely solitude, how sweet The silence of this calm retreat! Here Truth, the fair whom I pursue, Gives all her beauty to my view; The simple unadorned display Charms every pain and fear away. O Truth, whom millions proudly slight; O Truth, my treasure and delight! Accept this tribute to thy name,

And this poor heart from which it came!

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

Sweet is the cross, above all sweets,
To souls enamoured with Thy smiles;
The keenest woe life ever meets
Love strips of all its terrors, and beguiles.

'Tis just that God should not be dear
Where Self engrosses all the thought,

And groans and murmurs make it clear,
Whatever else is loved, the Lord is not.

The love of Thee flows just as much
As that of ebbing self subsides;

Our hearts, their scantiness is such,
Bear not the conflict of two rival tides,

Both cannot govern in one soul;
Then let self-love be dispossessed;

The love of God deserves the whole,

And will not dwell with so despised a guest.

THE SECRETS OF DIVINE LOVE ARE TO BE KEPT.

SUN! stay thy course, this moment

stay

Suspend the o'erflowing tide of day,
Divulge not such a love as mine,
Ah! hide the mystery divine;
Lest man, who deems my glory shame,
Should learn the secret of my flame.

O Night! propitious to my views,
Thy sable awning wide diffuse :
Conceal alike my joy and pain,
Nor draw thy curtain back again,
Though morning, by the tears she shows,
Seems to participate my woes.

Ye Stars! whose faint and feeble fires
Express my languishing desires,
Whose slender beams pervade the skies
As silent as my secret sighs,
Those emanations of a soul
That darts her fires beyond the pole;

Your rays, that scarce assist the sight,
That pierce, but not displace, the night,
That shine indeed, but nothing show
Of all those various scenes below,
Bring no disturbance, rather prove
Incentives to a sacred love.

Thou Moon! whose never-failing course
Bespeaks a providential force,

Go, tell the tidings of my flame
To Him who calls the stars by name,
Whose absence kills, whose presence

cheers,

Who blots or brightens all my years.

While, in the blue abyss of space,
Thine orb performs its rapid race,
Still whisper in his listening ears
The language of my sighs and tears ;
Tell him, I seek him, far below,
Lost in a wilderness of woe.

Ye thought-composing, silent Hours,
Diffusing peace o'er all my powers,
Friends of the pensive! who conceal
In darkest shades the flames I feel;
To you I trust, and safely may,
The love that wastes my strength away.

In sylvan scenes and caverns rude,
I taste the sweets of solitude;
Retired indeed, but not alone,

I share them with a Spouse unknown,
Who hides me here, from envious eyes,
From all intrusion and surprise.

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

Ye Rills! that, murmuring all the way,
Among the polished pebbles stray;
Creep silently along the ground,
Lest, drawn by that harmonious sound,
Some wanderer, whom I would not
neet,

Should stumble on my loved retreat.

Enamelled Meads, and Hillocks green,
And Streams that water all the scene!
Ye Torrents, loud in distant ears!
Ye Fountains! that receive my tears!
Ah! still conceal, with caution due,
A charge I trust with none but you.

If, when my pain and grief increase,
I seem to enjoy the sweetest peace,
It is because I find so fair
The charming object of my care,
That I can sport and pleasure make
Of torment suffered for His sake.

Ye Meads and Groves, unconscious things!

Ye know not whence my pleasure springs;

Ye know not, and ye cannot know,
The source from which my sorrows flow:
The dear sole Cause of all I feel,—
He knows, and understands them well.

Ye Deserts! where the wild beasts rove,
Scenes sacred to my hours of love;
Ye Forests! in whose shades I stray,
Benighted under burning day;
Ah! whisper not how blest am I,
Nor while I live, nor when I die.

Ye Lambs! who sport beneath these shades,

And bound along the mossy glades,
Be taught a salutary fear,

And cease to bleat when I am near:
The wolf may hear your harmless cry,
Whom ye should dread as much as I.

How calm, amid these scenes, my mind!
How perfect is the peace I find!
Oh, hush, be still, my every part,
My tongue, my pulse, my beating heart!
That Love, aspiring to its cause,
May suffer not a moment's pause.
Ye swift-finned nations, that abide
In seas as fathomless as wide;
And, unsuspicious of a snare,
Pursue at large your pleasures there :
Poor sportive fools! how soon does man
Your heedless ignorance trepan!

Away! dive deep into the brine,
Where never yet sunk plummet-line;
Trust me, the vast leviathan

Is merciful, compared with man;
Avoid his arts, forsake the beach,
And never play within his reach!
My soul her bondage ill endures;
I pant for liberty like yours;
I long for that immense profound,
That knows no bottom and no bound;
Lost in infinity, to prove

The incomprehensible of Love.
Ye Birds! that lessen as ye fly,
And vanish in the distant sky;
To whom yon airy waste belongs,
Resounding with your cheerful songs;
Haste to escape from human sight!
Fear less the vulture and the kite.

How blest and how secure am I,
When, quitting earth, I soar on high;
When, lost, like you I disappear,
And float in a sublimer sphere!
Whence falling, within human view,
I am ensnared, and caught like you.
Omniscient God, whose notice deigns
To try the heart and search the reins,
Compassionate the numerous woes
I dare not, even to Thee, disclose;
Oh save me from the cruel hands
Of men, who fear not Thy commands !
Love, all-subduing and divine,
Care for a creature truly Thine ;
Reign in a heart disposed to own
No sovereign but Thyself alone;
Cherish a bride who cannot rove,
Nor quit Thee for a meaner love!

THE VICISSITUDES EXPERIENCED IN THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.

I SUFFER fruitless anguish day by day,

Each moment, as it passes, marks my pain ;
Scarce knowing whither, doubtfully I stray,
And see no end of all that I sustain.

The more I strive the more I am withstood;
Anxiety increasing every hour,

My spirit finds no rest, performs no good,
And nought remains of all my former power.

My peace of heart is fled, I know not where;

My happy hours, like shadows, passed away;
Their sweet remembrance doubles all my care,
Night darker seems, succeeding such a day.
Dear faded joys, and impotent regret,

What profit is there in incessant tears?
O Thou, whom, once beheld, we ne'er forget,
Reveal thy Love, and banish all my fears!

Alas! He flies me-treats me as his foe,

Views not my sorrows, hears not when I plead;
Woe such as mine, despised, neglected woe,
Unless it shortens life, is vain indeed.

Pierced with a thousand wounds, I yet survive;
My pangs are keen, but no complaint transpires;
And while in terrors of Thy wrath I live,
Hell seems to lose its less tremendous fires.

Has hell a pain I would not gladly bear,
So thy severe displeasure might subside?
Hopeless of ease, I seem already there,
My life extinguished, and yet death denied.

Is this the joy so promised?—this the love,
The unchanging love, so sworn in better days?
Ah! dangerous glories! shown me, but to prove
How lovely Thou, and I how rash to gaze.

Why did I see them? had I still remained
Untaught, still ignorant how fair Thou art,
My humbler wishes I had soon obtained,

Nor known the torments of a doubting heart.

Deprived of all, yet feeling no desires,

Whence then, I cry, the pangs that I sustain?
Dubious and uninformed, my soul inquires-
Ought she to cherish or shake off her pain?

« ForrigeFortsett »