xxx.
And holy was the voice that taught her ear
How for our sins the Lord of life was slain;
While o'er the listener's bosom flow'd the tear
Of wondering gratitude, like spring-tide rain.
New joys burst forth, and high resolves were born
To choose the narrow path that worldlings scorn,
And walk therein. Oh, happy who shall gain
From the brief cloud that in his path may lie
A heritage sublime—a mansion in the sky.
xxxi.
In graceful youth, within the house of prayer,
Who by the sacred font so humbly kneels,
And with a tremulous yet earnest air,
The deathless vow of Christian fealty seals?
The Triune Name is breath'd with hallow'd power;
The dew baptismal bathes the forest-flower,
And, lo! her chasten'd smile that hope reveals
Which nerv'd the weary dove o'er floods unblest
The olive-leaf to pluck, and gain the ark of rest.
xxxii.
Pour forth your incense; fragrant shrubs and flowers,
Wave your fresh leaflets, and with beauty glow;
And wake the anthem in your choral bowers,
Birds, whose warm hearts with living praise o'erflow;
