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Oh, when we hear Jehovah's voice
Breaking the slumber of the soul,
So may we rise, and so rejoice,

So bend our will to His control!

His summons calls us even now;
Oh, may each instant answer be,
"Father, to thy commands I bow,-
Speak, for thy servant heareth thee!"

SORROW OF THE HEART.

BARTON.

O LORD! thine eye alone can see
The hidden sorrows of the heart,
To which no help, but aid from thee,
Availing comfort can impart :-
Thou hear'st its cries,

Thou know'st its sighs,
Thou wilt for its deliv'rance rise.

It is not sickness which hath chas'd
The rose from off such mourner's cheek;
The darkening cloud by sorrow trac'd
Tells more than words can ever speak;

Groans which confess

The heart's distress,

Can only find in thee redress.

Thine arm is shorten'd not;-thine ear
Is open as in days of yore;

The first can save, the last can hear,

And thou canst smiles for tears restore,

Give light for gloom,
Recall hope's bloom,

And bring back joy as from the tomb.

SILENCE.

RAGG.

THERE is a silence big with woe,
The latest stage of settled grief,
When scalding tears have ceased to flow,
To the sad bleeding heart's relief.
'Tis passion's slumber-but so full
Of hideous dreams, she sleeps in vain,
Her heart is still insatiable,

And unrelaxing is her pain;
While like an asp, the worm of care,
Sucks the rich stream of life away;
Till smiles the demon of despair,
Exulting o'er his prey.

There is a silence big with joy,

The full heart's throbbing eloquence,
When love upraised to ecstasy,
Defies the power of utterance.

'Tis passion's trance-the soft eye's ray,
Half shrouded in the lid, reveals
What thrilling rapture bears the sway,
And gently o'er the bosom steals;
And as it meets a glance in turn,
As soft, as sweet, as fondly given,
Such fires of wild delirium burn

It seems as earth were heaven.

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Nor aught that silence e'er shall break,
Till the last trumpet's fearful voice
The tenants of the earth shall wake
To tremble or rejoice.

HYMN OF NATURE.

PEABODY.

GOD of the earth's extended plains!
The dark-green fields contented lie:
The mountains rise like holy towers,

Where man might commune with the sky:
The tall cliff challenges the storm
That lours upon the vale below,
Where shaded fountains send their streams,
With joyous music in their flow.

God of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
fill the fierce trumpet of the storm

Hath summoned up their thundering bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hurry, trembling, o'er the seas,
Till, calmed by thee, the sinking gale,
Serenely breathes, "Depart in peace."

God of the forest's solemn shade!
The grandeur of the lonely tree,
That wrestles singly with the gale,
Lifts up admiring eyes to thee;
But more majestic far they stand,

When, side by side, their ranks they form,
To wave on high their plumes of green,
And fight their battles with the storm.

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PEABODY.

GOD of the earth's extended plains!
The dark-green fields contented lie:
The mountains rise like holy towers,
Where man might commune with the sky.
The tall cliff challenges the storm

That lours upon the vale below,
Where shaded fountains send their streams,
With joyous music in their flow.
God of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
fill the fierce trumpet of the storm

Hath summoned up their thundering bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hurry, trembling, o'er the seas,
Till, calmed by thee, the sinking gale,
Serenely breathes, "Depart in peace."

God of the forest's solemn shade!

The grandeur of the lonely tree, That wrestles singly with the gale, Lifts up admiring eyes to thee; But more majestic far they stand,

When, side by side, their ranks they form, To wave on high their plumes of green,

And fight their battles with the storm.

God of the light and Where summer-b Or, gathering in the The fierce and wi All-from the eveni That hardly lifts t To the wild whirlwi Breathe forth the

God of the fair and

How gloriously ab The tented dome, of Suspended on the Each brilliant star, t Each gilded cloud, In evening's purple The beauty of its

God of the rolling or

Thy name is writt In the warm day's u

Or evening's golde For every fire that fr

And every spark t Around the utmost v Were kindled at th

God of the world! th And nature's self t Her crumbling altars Her incense-fires s But still her grand a

Have made man's For hearts grow holie The beauty of the

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