THE MILLENNIAL SABBATH. MONTGOMERY. USE! take the harp of prophecy: behold! The glories of a brighter age unfold! 'ather of Mercies! speed the promised hour; by kingdom come with all-restoring power; Peace, virtue, knowledge, spread from pole to pole, s round the world the ocean-waters roll! Hope waits the morning of celestial light; ime plumes his wings for everlasting flight; Unchanging seasons have their march begun; fillennial years are hastening to the Sun; Seen through thick clouds, by Faith's transpiercing eyes, The New Creation shines in purer skies. All hail!—the age of crime and suffering ends, The reign of righteousness from heaven descends; Vengeance for ever sheaths the afflicting sword; Death is destroy'd, and Paradise restored: EDMESTON. Ir seems as if the summer sky It seems as if the flow 'ret's dye It seems as if rough ocean's wave EMMANUEL thy sceptre bends O'er every land beneath the sun; Where'er the track of man extends, Have thy sweet victories been won! Thy cross has shone the cresset light To wandering men, in storms of night, And shew'd them, anxious and distrest, The haven of eternal rest. COMMERCE! not now, as once of old, And MUSIC gives them warmer fire; Within the cot, within the tower, Sweet is the beaming smile of light, That LovE darts through the eye; Her glance may well make warm and bright LOVE bids perpetual summer shine, Though storms be howling by: But when to Love, so warm, is given Such is the love that shines around, In palace, hall, or cot; We seem to catch a blush of light The looks that beam, the words that sound, A sweet reflection from the ray, The joy that decks the spot, The hymn floats softly through the vale, If Heav'n has ever shone below, Which no sun beams, Nor fair moon gleams, But GOD HIMSELF sheds all the day. This is the time so long foreseen, The POWERS of SIN seem bound and dead, And PAIN and SORROW cease! What is thought? in wild succession Whence proceeds the motley train? What first stamps the vague impression On the ever-active brain? What is thought-and whither tending Does the subtile phantom flee? Does it, like a moonbeam ending, Shine, and melt to vacancy? Has a strange, mysterious feeling, Knew your thoughts-and thought of you? When, at mercy's footstool bending, Thou hast felt a secret glow: Say, has ne'er the thought impress'd thee, He could then thy feeling share? Who can tell? that fervent blessing, To the kindred bosom bear? Laws, perhaps, unknown, but certain, Kindred spirits may control; But what hand can lift the curtain, And reveal the awful soul? Dimly through life's vapours seeing, Who but longs for light to break? O this feverish dream of being ! When, my friend, shall we awake? Yes, the hour, the hour is hasting, Then the secret all shall end. Let then, thought hold sweet communion, O my friend! to meet thee there. SECOND PART. OH! the hour when this material Shall have vanish'd like a cloud; When, amid the wide ethereal, All th' invisible shall crowd; And the naked soul, surrounded With innum'rons hosts of light, Triumph in the view unbounded, And adore the Infinite. In that sudden, strange transition, And receive its influence? To the spirit's resting-place. Will she there no fond emotion, Will no mortal trace remain? With the friend she leaves behind? No: the past she still remembers; Faith and hope surviving too, Ever watch those sleeping embers, Which must rise and live anew; For the widow'd, lonely spirit, Mourns till she be cloth'd afresh; Longs perfection to inherit, And to triumph in the flesh. Angels, let the ransom'd stranger In your tender care be blest, Hoping, trusting, free from danger, Till the trumpet end her rest: Till the trump which shakes creation, Through the circling heavens shall roll, Till the day of consummation, Till the bridal of the soul. Can I trust a fellow-being? Can I trust an angel's care? O, thou merciful All-seeing, Beam around my spirit there! Jesus, blessed Mediator, Thou the airy path hast frod! |