HYMN FOR THE DEDICATION OF A CHURCH.
The pomp of Moriah has long passed away,
And soon shall our frailer erection decay;
But the souls that are builded in worship and love
Shall be temples to God, everlasting above.
COME, uncles and cousins; come, nieces and aunts;
Come, nephews and brothers, no wonts and no cants:
Put business, and shopping, and school-books away;
The year has rolled round; it is Thanksgiving-day.
Come home from the college, ye ringlet-haired youth,
Come home from your factories, Ann, Kate, and Ruth;
From the anvil, the counter, the farm come away;
Home, home, with you, home; it is Thanksgiving-day.
The table is spread, and the dinner is dressed;
The cooks and the mothers have all done their best :
No caliph of Bagdad e'er saw such display,
Or dreamed of a treat like our Thanksgiving-day.
Pies, puddings, and custards, pigs, oysters, and nuts, Come forward and seize them, without ifs or buts; Bring none of your slim, little appetites here; --Thanksgiving-day comes only once in a year.
Thrice welcome the day in its annual round!
What treasures of love in its bosom are found!
New England's high holiday, ancient and dear!
"Twould be twice as welcome, if twice in a year.
Now children revisit the darling old place,
And brother and sister, long parted, embrace;
The family ring is united once more,
And the same voices shout at the old cottage door.
The grandfather smiles on the innocent mirth,
And blesses the Power that has guarded his hearth;
He remembers no trouble, he feels no decay,
But thinks his whole life has been Thanksgiving-day.
Then praise for the past and the present we sing,
And trustful await what the future may bring:
Let doubt and repining be banished away,
And the whole of our lives be a Thanksgiving-day.
FOR THE CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION AT HARVARD COLLEGE,
GIVE praise to the God of our fathers! give praise!
At the shrine where they worshiped devoutly adore;
Kneel down, as they knelt in their perilous days,
His goodness to bless, and his favor implore.
For "Christ and the Church" they resisted and fled,
His cross for their banner, his word for their guide;
On a new world the broad light of Freedom they shed,
And poured through the wilderness Truth's living tide.
Then rose the high temple, the home of the soul,
And the proud hall of Science, the strength of the state, That Religion and Letters might join to control
The hearts of the young, and the toils of the great.
We praise thee, O God, for the days that are gone;
We surrender the future in faith to thy hand;
O, cloud not the hope of our new-risen dawn,
O, pour the full sunlight of day on our land!
ON OCCASION OF THE CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF HARVARD COLLEGE,
FLING wide the temple door!
The altar and the choir prepare!
Let the high chant and solemn prayer
Their holy raptures pour.
For, lo, in festal pomp arrayed,
Forth issuing from their classic shade, The sons of Science crowd the sacred floor.
O, meetly to the house of praise
The fair and ancient mother goes,
And on Religion's altar lays
The offering due to Him who all bestows.
Grateful Memory brings her treasures,
Gathered through the centuries gone;
Hope, in sweet, prophetic measures,
Hastens brighter ages on.
The solemn rites let Heaven with favor crown; The praise receive, nor on the vision frown.
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