To thee all angels cry aloud;
To thee the powers on high,
Both cherubim and seraphim,
Continually do cry;
O holy, holy, holy Lord,
Whom heavenly hosts obey,
The world is with the glory filled
Of thy majestic sway.
But show me, on thy flowery breast,
Earth! where thy nameless martyrs rest!
The thousands that, uncheer'd by praise,
Have made one offering of their days;
For truth, for Heaven, for freedom's sake,
Resign'd the bitter cup to take,
And silently, in fearless faith,
Bowing their noble souls to death.
Where sleep they, Earth ?-by no proud stone
Their narrow couch of rest is known ;
The still sad glory of their name,
Hallows no mountain unto fame;
No-not a tree the record bears
Of their deep thoughts and lonely prayers.
Yet haply all around lie strew'd
The ashes of that multitude:
It may be that each day, we tread,
Where thus devoted hearts have bled,
And the young flowers our children sow,
Take root in holy dust below.
The apostles' glorious company,
And prophets crowned with light,
With all the martyrs' noble host,
Thy constant praise recite.
The holy church throughout the world,
O Lord, confesses thee,
That thou eternal Father art
Of boundless majesty.
Oh! that the many rustling leaves,
Which round our homes the summer weaves,
Or that the streams, in whose glad voice
Our own familiar paths rejoice,
Might whisper through the starry sky,
To tell where those blest slumberers lie!
Would not our inmost hearts be still'd,
With knowledge of their presence fill'd,
And by its breathings taught to prize
The meekness of self-sarifice?
-But the old woods and sounding waves
Are silent of those hidden graves.
Yet what if no light footstep there
In pilgrim-love and awe repair,
So let it be !-like him, whose clay
Deep buried by his Maker lay,
They sleep in secret, but their sod,
Unknown to man, is mark'd of God!
THOU God, who hast since time began, The helper of the helpless been, Who will correct the tyrant, man,` That dares against thy mercy sin;
We pray for slaves! to whom thy word Of light and love is never given;
For those whose ears have never heard
The promise and the hope of heaven.
For broken heart, and darken'd mind,
Whereon no human mercies fall,
Oh! be thy gracious love inclined,
Who, as a father, pitiest all.
And grant, oh, Father! that the time
Of earth's deliverance may be near;
When every land, and tongue, and clime,
The message of thy love shall bear ;
When smitten as with fire from heaven,
The captive's chain shall melt in dust,
And to his fettered soul be given
The glorious freedom of the just!
Fifty-sixth Psalm of Davíð.
O THOU, whose justice reigns on high,
And makes the oppressor cease,
Behold how envious sinners try
To vex and break my peace.
The sons of violence and lies,
Join to destroy me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rise,
My refuge is thy word.
True! power and pride and insolent thought,
Our trust in Heaven severely try;
The wicked rule the world—and nought
Is left to virtue but-to die:
Yet sure if God is strong and just,
It shall not perish in the dust.
Bright hope! In virtue's path who treads,
Treads surely all we feel and see
Is a triumphal march that leads
Truth, knowledge, to its victory:
'Tis sorrow's sternest discipline
That makes our mortal man divine.
Fifty-sixth Psalm of David.
In God most holy, just, and true,
I have repos'd my trust;
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the dust.
They wrest my words to mischief still,
Charge me with unknown faults;
Mischief doth all their councils fill,
And malice, all their thoughts.
Shall they escape without thy frown?
Must their devices stand?
O cast the haughty sinner down,
And let him know thy hand.
When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;
So swift is prayer to reach the sky,
So near is God to me.
Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord;
Thou shalt receive my praise :
I'll sing,' How faithful is thy word,
How righteous all thy ways!'
Thou hast secur'd my soul from death,
O set a pris'ner free!
That heart, and hand, and life, and breath,
May be employ'd for thee.
|