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THE HUMAN SOUL.
As forms of light their evil forms conceal.Of sordid visage, 'mong them Mammon stands.To Christ's own cherished one, the Church, he cries,"Fear not the splendid gifts I offer thee:These dazzling gems, these goodly pearls receive;They'll but new lustre to thy beauty give."And 'mong opposing pow'rs is none more darkThan Persecution, of dark, hating eye,Reheating ceaselessly his raging fires.And false Philosophy obtrusive seeksBewild'ring shades upon the light to castThat Truth's own ministers disperse around.Nor are there wanting base, ignoble pow'rs,O noble Art! to call thee them to aid;Nor here vain Pleasure's flatt'ring voice, to callTo earthly joys the Heav'n-directed soul.O Zion's Daughter! heed not Mammon's voice;False gems and pearls are those he offers thee;Receive not, then, those vain though dazzling gems,But Christ's white lilies wreathe around thy brow;Array thyself in thine own bridal robes,The pure white bridal robes of righteousness.A regal throne awaits thee; Christ shall come,And at His right hand thou shalt sit a queen;;For lo! thy Bridegroom is the King of kings.Philosophy, we call on thee to guardThy sanctuaries from intruders dark.
