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Borrow their blameless thoughts, their calm
Thy spirit mild and meek,
By love like thine in Christian nurture rear'd, Still bless the mother's looks, the mother's tones revered.
Peals through, and bursts the tomb !
Before the eternal throne,
Whereon He sits alone,
Mary, the child to whom thy womb gave birth, Unveil'd in glory stands ; sole judge of heaven and earth.
That dreadful trump must call,
In terror of that day
Vain fancy melts away,
Sway'd by the wind: we think of Thee no more; Our song is silent now; its music past and o’er.
HYMN FOR EASTER EVE,
APRIL 2, 1836.
All is o'er—the pain, the sorrow,
Human taunts, and fiendish spite ; Death shall be despoil'd to-morrow
Of the prey he grasps to-night; Yet once more, to seal his doom, Christ must sleep within the tomb.
II. Close and still the cell that holds him,
While in brief repose he lies; Deep the slumber that enfolds him
Veil'd awhile from mortal eyes :
Which on yonder cross he bore;
Till the toil of death was o'er. But that toil, so fierce and dread, Bruised and crush'd the serpent's head.
iv. Whither hath his soul departed ?
Roams it on some blissful shore, Where the meek and faithful-hearted,
Vext by this world's hate no more,
Or, on some benignant mission,
To the imprison'd spirits sent,
Gleams of hope and mercy lent-
E’en than angels' thoughts may scan; Come and watch the heavenly sleeper,
Come and do what mortals can,
Of the bright and balmy east,
Till Death's slumber shall have ceased, (How should we its stillness stir ?) Lies the Saviour's sepulchre.
(Thought by Faith's sure guidance led), Farther yet to weep and ponder
* 1 Peter, iii. 19, 20.
Over that sepulchral bed.
Fervent youth, and reverend age ; Peasant, prince, each rank and station,
Haste, and join this pilgrimage; East and west, and south and north, Send your saintliest spirits forth.
. x. Mothers, ere the curtain closes · Round your children's sleep to-night, Tell them how their Lord reposes,
Waiting for to-morrow's light; Teach their dreams to Him to rove, Him who loved them, Him they love.
Matron grave and blooming maiden,
Hoary sage and beardless boy, Hearts with grief and care o'erladen,
Hearts brimful of hope and joy, Come and greet, in death's dark hall, Him who felt with, felt for all.
This world's fetters to unbind,
In the hearts of human kind; Let to-night your labours cease, Give your care-worn spirits peace.
Ye who roam o'er seas and mountains,
Messengers of love and light;
Weary day and wakeful night;
Ye of meek and lowly breast;
Labour early, late take rest; Leave the plough, and leave the loom, Meet us at our Saviour's tomb.
xv. From your halls of stately beauty,
Sculptured roof and marble floor, In this work of christian duty
Haste, ye rich, and join the poor. Mean and noble, bond and free, Meet in frank equality.
: XV. . ., Lo, his grave | the grey rock closes
O'er that virgin burial ground;
Trees funereal droop around;
Fills the spicy midnight air ;