"This body chang'd, shall soon," said he, "With saints and angels join, And sing to all eternity, The depths of Love Divine!"
SOLITARY REFLECTIONS!
(_Occasioned by the death of a newly married pair, who drowned themselves, after living together three weeks._)
On Esk's old bank the watery willows weep, Where wife and husband launch'd into the deep;- And from their cottage sought an early grave, To end their jarring, in the peaceful wave
Ah, hapless pair! who can withhold the tear, When he the melancholy place draws near!
The dire event to future times will prove, The short enjoyment of your wedded love!
How apt are earthly prospects to deceive, And leave her disappointed sons to grieve!
How oft will trifling things the mind perplex, Where grace doth not her influences mix!
The morning shines,-to church they haste away, And noisy guns proclaim the wedding day; Within three weeks to the dark grave they're borne, To slumber till the Resurrection morn!
Around, the neighbours mourn their hapless lot, And weeping children haunt the dreary spot; The lippering wave, rais'd by the nightly gale, Tells to the Moon her melancholy tale!
ON SOME WHO HAD LEFT US, AND SPOKEN DISRESPECTFULLY OF US!
"_There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not washed from their filthiness._" (Proverbs xxx. 12.)
Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand, Uniting to sing and to pray; But long could not bear the rigid command, So off they went lilting away!
Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise, For doctrines more learned and pure;- This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes, This doctrine they could not endure!
They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain, Our faults and our failings expose; Because this perfection they cannot attain, They'll plead for their muffs and their boas!
So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks, They'll laugh at a sinner in tears; Their prayers are lock'd up in their finely bound books, While they're trimming their necks and their ears!
The new birth's convulsions they cannot have felt, Or they dare not speak as they do; Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt, And must, while to mammon they bow.
Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach, Of their soft invitation beware; The pharisee's leaven, the good man's reproach, And the seat of the scorner are there!
To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge, 'Gainst others to raise a complaint; They'll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge, To pass for a dignified saint!
The God of Elijah who sees through the heart, These specious impostors will spurn, And send them in spite of their cunning and art, Where they will eternally mourn!
THERE IS A GOD!
"_The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God._" (Psalm xiv. 1)
There is a God who rules above!
And man's the object of His love!
And Jesus, His beloved Son, Hath bled, and died to make this known.
Though man his attributes deny, And utter daring blasphemy, He shall be conquer'd from above, By Justice, Judgment, or by Love.
Though he be lusty now, and strong, And bold in ribaldry and song, A time will come when he must flit, And to a stronger arm submit.
Then Death will disregard his groans, And time will melt his giant bones, If no contrition he shall feel, His sins will sink him into hell.
While there he drinks the bitter cup, The dust shall lick his marrow up; His tongue within the grave shall rot, While name and memory are forgot.
On that dread morn when all shall rise, The righteous whom he did despise, Shall over him dominion have, And all the terrors of the grave.
CONFIRMATION.
The stars recede, the morn appears, So long anticipated!
The air which now the spirit cheers, With shouts is agitated!
The rustics full of mirth and glee, Are big with expectation, Of what they are to hear and see, When they're at Confirmation!
The road is fill'd from side to side, With bonny lads and lasses; With country bloom, and village pride, Gigs, horses, mules, and asses!
With whip and spur, they dash along, As though to fair or races; With artificial feathers hung, And veils before their faces!
But few know what they're going to do, Or they are strangely lied on; They're careless of the solemn vow, As is the steed they ride on!
They go, because their neighbours go, Without consideration; And think all pass for Christians, who Are pass'd at Confirmation!
A few there are, but few we fear, Their faith by works expressing; And oft in private on their knees, They wrestle for a blessing!
The greater part of them by far, Will carry a Cain's offering; They're strangers to the morning star, To royal David's offspring!
A hope they have, but cannot tell On what that hope is grounded;- Thus like some old Egyptian spell, It cannot be expounded!
The carnal mind still bears the sway, For want of resolution; And scatter'd tribes, still day by day, Profane the institution!
In spite of lectures orthodox, Of Bishops, prayers, and caution, They, greedy as the thirsty ox, Drink in the deadly potion!
The scribes may write with mournful pen, The Church's lamentation; While year by year, they seek in vain, The fruits of Confirmation!