20
'Mid scenes of bloodshed closed his strange career,
And found at last a soldier's gory bier.
But say, oh, Prophet! did that heavenly light
Which rose in beauty o'er thy raptured sight,
And bursting through the veil of shadowy gloom
Which shrouds the varied scenes of years to come,
Displayed to thee, though dim and far away,
Heaven's glorious hour—earth's best and brightest day;
Say, did its radiance, like the meteor light
That swiftly shoots across the brow of night,
But flash one moment o'er thy darkened mind,
Then pass away, nor leave a trace behind?
Or did its cherished hope with gladdening power
Illume the darkness of thy parting hour,
And o'er the grave redeeming lustre shed,
To cheer the anguish of thy dying bed?
Oh, vain the thought! To God, thy God alone,
The secret workings of thy heart are known.
We judge thee not: but in that awful hour,
When girt with might, the Lord of Life and Power
Again amid the world's fast gathering night
Shall burst on earth, a sun of glorious light;
When all the countless tenants of the grave,
And they who sleep beneath the rolling wave,
Shall startled hear the piercing trumpet call,
And wake to meet the coming Lord of All;
Oh! mayest thou then, with wrapt, unshrinking gaze,
Behold at last the full meridian blaze
Of that fair Orb, that bright and morning Star
Whose first pale radiance glimmering from afar,
Came o'er thy spirit's visions dimly bright,
And shed on all around its dawning light.
And found at last a soldier's gory bier.
But say, oh, Prophet! did that heavenly light
Which rose in beauty o'er thy raptured sight,
And bursting through the veil of shadowy gloom
Which shrouds the varied scenes of years to come,
Displayed to thee, though dim and far away,
Heaven's glorious hour—earth's best and brightest day;
Say, did its radiance, like the meteor light
That swiftly shoots across the brow of night,
But flash one moment o'er thy darkened mind,
Then pass away, nor leave a trace behind?
Or did its cherished hope with gladdening power
Illume the darkness of thy parting hour,
And o'er the grave redeeming lustre shed,
To cheer the anguish of thy dying bed?
Oh, vain the thought! To God, thy God alone,
The secret workings of thy heart are known.
We judge thee not: but in that awful hour,
When girt with might, the Lord of Life and Power
Again amid the world's fast gathering night
Shall burst on earth, a sun of glorious light;
When all the countless tenants of the grave,
And they who sleep beneath the rolling wave,
Shall startled hear the piercing trumpet call,
And wake to meet the coming Lord of All;
Oh! mayest thou then, with wrapt, unshrinking gaze,
Behold at last the full meridian blaze
Of that fair Orb, that bright and morning Star
Whose first pale radiance glimmering from afar,
Came o'er thy spirit's visions dimly bright,
And shed on all around its dawning light.
