There faith lifts up the tearful
The heart with anguish riven; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene in heaven.
There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given;
There rays divine disperse the gloom,
Beyond the confines of the tomb,
Appears the dawn of heaven.
BORNE on the bosom of the wave,
Where death and danger oft appear,
The Seaman trod the billowy grave,
Stranger to thought or fear.
Unknown the Power that stayed his youth, The God who holds the sea, unknown;
Within, no ray of living truth,
With kindly impulse shone.
Fierce, the careering midnight storm
In anger, mingled wave and sky,
While the red lightning scathed his form,
His curse was heard on high.
Deep thunders rent the shivering mast,
The barque rude tossed by every sea;
No tear was given for the past,
Nor to futurity.
No prayer assailed the holy throne,
Could the profane, the scoffer pray?
No, wretched, trembling, and alone,
His spirit fled away.
Mourn, Seaman, for thy comrade mourn,
His soul was noble, generous, free,
Yet deep in guilt, it sought the bourne
Of dread eternity.
O had he scanned the living chart,
By which the unerring course is laid,
Renewed, and sanctified in heart,
The wanderer ne'er had strayed.
Mourn for the dead, yet with thy tears
Blend earnest thanks for grace divine,
Seaman, a happier dawn appears,
The BIBLE now is thine.
The "Man of Nazareth" calls to thee,
He bids thy toils and sorrows cease;
The voice that calmed proud Galilee,
Speaks to the weary, peace.
He will direct and cheer thy way,
'Mid perils, and through climes afar; And when by sin beguiled astray, Will shine thy Morning Star.
Safe in the tempest as the calm,
Is he that seeks the mercy seat;
Seaman, rejoice, death boasts a charm
Leading to Jesus' feet.
DAUGHTER of Heaven, fair offspring of the skies,
To thee, O PEACE, shall sweetest incense rise,
The song of angels, theme of men below,
"Tis thine to soothe, and heal a nation's wo;
Robed with resplendence, bright celestial day,
How evanescent is thy meteor ray;
As the wild lightning's quick receding glare,
The flash illumes, and leaves the darkening air,
'Tis here 'tis gone;-the boon is soon recalled,
And war's dire besom sweeps a groaning world,
Hark, from the dungeon of the dreary cells,
Where haggard want, with frowning horror dwells,
The accursed walls by tyrant hands upreared,
The flinty stones with guiltless blood besmeared,
A groan bursts forth, at which the rocks would weep,
A sigh is breathed from misery's bosom deep.*
* Alluding to the imprisonment of R. W. Meade, who was confined in Spain, by order of the government.
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