8
SONNET,SUGGESTED BY A PASSAGE OF THE REV. DR. CHANNING'S.
Our coming Lord, rides lie on clouds of light?
Does his blest voice salute our listening ear?
His chariot wheels, do we perceive them near?
His trumpet's call, sounds it on wings of night?
No, silent all—hut still the Christian eye,
Touch'd by the hand of God, his coming sees,
Not hi the cloud, the chariot, and the breeze,
But purer love, and truth that cannot die—
In aspirations of eternity—
Virtues that quicken, blissful hopes that save,
Freedom that breaks the fetter from the slave,
And bids its spirit o'er the nations fly—
In deeper human love, in meeker power,
He comes, and stands triumphant at this hour!
Does his blest voice salute our listening ear?
His chariot wheels, do we perceive them near?
His trumpet's call, sounds it on wings of night?
No, silent all—hut still the Christian eye,
Touch'd by the hand of God, his coming sees,
Not hi the cloud, the chariot, and the breeze,
But purer love, and truth that cannot die—
In aspirations of eternity—
Virtues that quicken, blissful hopes that save,
Freedom that breaks the fetter from the slave,
And bids its spirit o'er the nations fly—
In deeper human love, in meeker power,
He comes, and stands triumphant at this hour!
