And praying for his mercy, oft she asked
With eagerness, and seemed the while at ease.
When came the final struggle, with the look
Of a grieved child, and with its mournful cry,
But still with something of her wonted tone
Of confidence in danger, as for help
She called on them, on both alternately,
As if by turns expecting that relief
From each the other had grown slow to yield;
At which their calmness, undisturbed till then,
Gave way to agitation past control.
A few heart-rending moments, and her voice
Sank to a weak and inarticulate moan,
Then in a whisper ended; and with that
Her features grew composed and fixed in death:
At sight of which their lost tranquillity
At once returned. 'Twas evening; and the lamp,
Set near, shone full upon her placid face,
Its snowy white illuming, while they stood
Gazing as on her loveliness in sleep,
The enfeebled mother on the father's arm
Heavily hanging, like the slender flower
On its firm prop, when loaded down with rain
Or morning dew.
"MOTHER, how still the baby lies!
I cannot hear his breath;
I cannot see his laughing eyes-
They tell me this is death.
My little work I thought to bring,
And sat down by his bed,
And pleasantly I tried to sing-
They hushed me he is dead.
They say that he again will rise,
More beautiful than now;
That God will bless him in the skies-
O, mother, tell me how!"
"Daughter, do you remember, dear,
The cold, dark thing you brought,
And laid upon the casement here,-
A withered worm, you thought?
I told you that Almighty power
Could break that withered shell,
And show you, in a future hour,
Something would please you well.
Look at the chrysalis, my love,-
An empty shell it lies;
Now raise your wondering glance above,
To where yon însect flies!"
"O, yes, mamma! how very gay
Its wings of starry gold! And see! it lightly flies away Beyond my gentle hold.
O, mother, now I know full well,
If God that worm can change,
And draw it from this broken cell,
On golden wings to range,-
To feel that thy protecting care
From evil is our shield;
To see, in dark temptation's snare,
Thy arm for us revealed;
To know thy kingdom here on earth
Within our hearts increase,
And prove the all-surpassing worth
Of thy pure gift of peace;-
Be such our prayers! For all beside
Thy word a pledge shall be,
For Thou hast promis'd to provide
For all who follow Thee.
MAJESTY AND IMMUTABILITY OF GOD.
JEHOVAH reigns: let ev'ry nation hear,
And at his footstool bow with holy fear;
Let heaven's high arches echo with his name,
And the wide peopled earth his praise proclaim;
Then send it down to hell's deep glooms resounding
Thro' all her caves in dreadful murmurs sounding.
He rules with wide and absolute command,
O'er the broad ocean and the steadfast land;
Jehovah reigns, unbounded, and alone;
And all creation hangs beneath his throne:
He reigns alone; let no inferior nature
Usurp, or share the throne of the Creator.
He saw the struggling beams of infant light,
Shoot through the massy gloom of ancient night;
His spirit hush'd the elemental strife,
And brooded o'er the kindling seeds of life;
Seasons and months began the long procession,
And measur'd o'er the year in bright succession.
The joyful sun sprang up th' ethereal way,
Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay;
And the pale moon diffus'd her shadowy light,
Superior o'er the dusky brow of night;
Ten thousand glitt'ring lamps the skies adorning,
Numerous as dew-drops from the womb of morning.
Earth's blooming face with rising flow'rs he drest,
And spread a verdant mantle o'er her breast;
Then from the hollow of his hand he pours
The circling waters round her winding shores;
The new-born world in their cool arms embracing,
And with soft murmurs still her banks caressing.
At length she rose complete in finish'd pride,
All fair and spotless, like a virgin bride;
Fresh with untarnish'd lustre as she stood,
Her Maker bless'd his work, and call'd it good;
The morning stars, with joyful acclamation,
Exulting sung, and hail'd the new creation.
Yet this fair world, the creature of a day,
Tho' built by God's right hand, must pass away;
And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things,
The fate of empires, and the pride of kings:
Eternal night shall veil their proudest story,
And drop the curtain o'er all human glory.
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