All around seems blithe and merry; _My_ light's dim, and harp's unstrung, While memory turns to yonder valley, On whose flowery banks I've sung.
Dirty, ragged, and down-hearted, Far from country, friends, and home; And as far from kindness parted, Doom'd for work the world to roam.
While the cheerful game hath flourish'd, Gaily the glad table round; From my eye the tear unnoticed, Oft hath fallen to the ground.
Now they sing of female beauty, Or the treachery of men, Or of robbers seeking booty, Like the tiger from his den.
Lovely forms and handsome faces, Serve to gild the gay deceit; Amorous ditties serve for graces, Both before and after meat.
'Tis theirs to share life's fleeting joys, Mine to drag the galling chain; But still a hope my spirit buoys, That the sun will shine again.
If their pleasures were not carnal, I might long with them to share; Did they lead to joys eternal, When they laugh, I might despair.
But when time makes all surrender, Nor permits the least excuse, Happy they, whom time's avenger, Charges not with its abuse.
EDOM.
(Isaiah lxiii. 1.)
O ye muses, assist me to sing, Of the things which by faith I have seen; Of the love of my Saviour and King, While wandering on earth I have been.
That Him I so little have loved, For this I have reason to mourn; And for talents and time mis-improved, In the days of my youth that are gone.
For neglect of the records divine, Which so often did sound in mine ear; My affections they did not incline, I neglected like others to hear.
Like sheep did we all go astray, And left the fair pastures serene; Did wander from him far away, Where terror and darkness were seen.
There in ambush our enemies lay, As we roam'd o'er those desolate plains; We became their unfortunate prey, And were bound in affliction and chains.
We long in that sad plight did lie, Nor had courage nor strength to look up; Yet we oft cast a languishing eye, To the hills from whence cometh our hope.
And there came one from Edom afar, To whom the sad signal we gave; He looked like a champion of war, He was bloody-yet mighty to save!
And as swift to our rescue He came, We related to Him all our grief, He said that heaven heard us complain, And 'twas He that had brought us relief.
"Who art thou?" then we fearfully said, "Why so red in thy glorious array?
Like one who is sorely dismayed, Through the burden and heat of the day?"
"I have come from the Father of lights, That you in His glory may shine; Whose throne is on high o'er all heights, And the work of redemption is mine.
In His courts the great question was ask'd, Who would rescue lost man from the grave?
I, my love and omnipotence task'd, That the ruined and lost I might save!
Then stern Justice demanded his due, And I looked for help but found none; So my life I have laid down for you, And have trodden the wine press alone.
"Look on me," He said with a smile, "'Twas for you I was bruised as ye see; There was none for this wonderful toil, And the burden fell all upon me!"
Then He lifted us up from the ground, And He broke our tyrannical chain; While His blood stream'd afresh from each wound, And whoever it touch'd was made clean!
"The ransom, though mighty, is paid, Therefore open your hearts to receive; You need be no longer afraid If you truly repent and believe!"
While sweet comfort thus flow'd from his tongue, His visage though marr'd grew more fair; With swift wings and angelical song, He ascended on high in the air!
A bright cloud took Him out of our sight, And our eyes could behold him no more; He arose to the regions of light, And left us to believe and adore!
REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA.
The sun had gone down o'er yon lofty mountain, The last golden streamer had left the tall tree; The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy, Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea.
The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish'd, Which oft had supplied them with Sunday's perfume; The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish'd, And wept o'er the beautiful daisy in bloom!
In the track by the river the green grass is springing, On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray; No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing, To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play.
The dog in the night time now howls discontented, Of its master and mistress but lately bereft; I listen'd and look'd to the place they frequented, Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left.
How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing, When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved; Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing, As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved.
From the shores of old England we anxiously view'd them, A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight; Far o'er the blue surface affection pursued them, Till the ship was conceal'd by the curtain of night.
They have left us,-their absence wakes mournful reflection, As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away; We can only consign them to heavenly protection, To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey.
He who roves through the wood may quickly discover, Their affection in tokens which there he will see; Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover, May sigh o'er their names in the bark of the tree.
THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP;
OR,
REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON'S MALLET
FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
O thou once highly valued piece of wood, By him who best that value understood; Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,- Whom bed and board, Thou didst afford, Attended by thy train of sharpen'd steel!
True to thy task throughout the changing year, Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:- Whether at work, or o'er his shoulder slung, Or near his side, Thou wast his pride, While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung!
Without a murmur at stern winter's frown, Or summer's heat, in country or in town, The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:- Thy day is gone, Thy task is done, And thou art own'd by thy last master now!