And lo! descending angels, hovering there, Stretch'd their loose wings, and in the purple air, Hung o'er the sleepless guardians of the fold:When that high anthem, clear, and strong, and bold On wavy paths of trembling ether ran :
Glory to God;-Benevolence to man ;—
Peace to the world:"-and in full concert came,
From silver tubes, and harps of golden frame,
The loud and sweet response, whose choral strains
Lingered and languished on Judæa's plains.
Yon living lamps, charm'd from their chambers blue,
By airs so heavenly, from the skies withdrew :
All?-all, but one, that hung and burn'd alone,
And with mild lustre over Bethlehem shone.
Chaldea's sages saw that orb afar,
Glow unextinguished;-'twas Salvation's Star.
Hear'st thou that solemn symphony, that swells
And echoes through Philippi's gloomy cells?
From vault to vault the heavy notes rebound,
And granite rocks reverberate the sound.
The wretch, who long, in dungeons cold and dank,
Had shook his fetters, that their iron clank
Might break the grave-like silence of that prison,
On which the Star of Hope had never risen ;
Then sunk in slumbers, by despair opprest,
And dream'd of freedom in his broken rest;
Wakes at the music of those mellow strains,
Thinks it some spirit, and forgets his chains.
'Tis Paul and Silas; who, at midnight, pay To Him of Nazareth a grateful lay.
Soon is that anthem wafted to the skies:
An angel bears it, and a God replies.
At that reply, a pale, portentous light
Plays through the air,-then leaves a gloomier night.
The darkly tottering towers,-the trembling arch,—
The rocking walls confess an earthquake's march,- 11
The stars look dimly thro' the roof:-behold,
From saffron dews and melting clouds of gold,
Brightly uncurling on the dungeon's air,
Freedom walks forth serene :-from her loose hair,
And every glistening feather of her wings,
Perfumes that breathe of more than earth she flings,
And with a touch dissolves the prisoner's chains,
Whose song had charm'd her from celestial plains.
'Tis night again: for Music loves to steal
Abroad at night; when all her subjects kneel,
In more profound devotion, at her throne:
And, at that sober hour, she'll sit alone,
Upon a bank, by her sequestered cell,
And breathe her sorrows through her wreathed shell.
Again 'tis night-the diamond lights on high
Burn bright, and dance harmonious through the sky;
And Silence leads her downy footed hours,
Round Sion's hill, and Salem's holy towers.
The Lord of Life, with his few faithful friends,
Drown'd in mute sorrow, down that hill descends.
They cross the stream that bathes its foot, and dashes
Around the tomb, where sleep a monarch's ashes; 12
And climb the steep, where oft the midnight air
Received the Sufferer's solitary prayer.
There, in dark bowers imbosomed, Jesus flings
His hand celestial o'er prophetic strings;
Displays his purple robe, his bosom gory,
His crown of thorns, his cross, his future glory:-
And, while the group, each hallowed accent gleaning,
On pilgrim's staff, in pensive posture leaning—
Their reverend beards, that sweep their bosoms, wet
With the chill dews of shady Olivet-
Wonder and weep, they pour the
of sorrow,
song
With their lov'd Lord, whose death shall shroud the
Heavens! what a strain was that! those matchless
That ravish "Princedoms, Dominations, Thrones ;"
That, heard on high, had hush'd those peals of praise,
That seraphs swell, and harping angels raise,
Soft, as the wave from Siloa's fount that flows,
Through the drear silence of the mountain rose.
How sad the Saviour's song! how sweet! how holy!
The last he sung on earth :-how melancholy!
Along the valley sweep the expiring notes:
On Kedron's wave the melting music floats:
From her blue arch, the lamp of evening flings
Her mellow lustre, as the Saviour sings:
The moon above, the wave beneath is still,
And light and music mingle on the hill.
The glittering guard, whose viewless ranks invest The brook's green margin, and the mountain's crest, Catch that unearthly song, and soar away,
Leave this dark orb for fields of endless day,
And round th' Eternal's throne on buoyant pinions play.
Ye glowing seraphs, that enchanted swim,
In seas of rapture, as ye tune the hymn
Ye bore from earth-O say, ye choral quires,
Why in such haste to wake your golden lyres?
Why, like a flattering, like a fleeting dream,
Leave that lone mountain, and that silent stream?
Say, could not then the "Man of Sorrows" claim
Your shield of adamant, your sword of flame ?-
Hell forc'd a smile, at your retiring wing,
And man was left-to crucify your King.
But must no other sweets perfume my wreath,
Than Carmel's hill and Sharon's valley breathe?
Are holy airs borne only through the skies,
Where Sinai thunders, and where Horeb sighs?
And move they only o'er Arabia's sea,
Bethesda's pool, the lake of Galilee ?
And does the hand that bids Judæa bloom,
Deny its blossoms to the desert's gloom?
No:-turn thine eye, in visionary glance,
To scenes beyond old Ocean's blue expanse.
Where vast La Plata rolls his weight along,
Through worlds unknown to science and to song,
And sweeping proudly o'er his boundless plain,
Repels the foaming billows of the main.
Let Fancy lap thee in Paraguay's bowers,
And scatter round thee Nature's wildest flowers:
For Nature there, since first her opening eye
Hail'd the bright orb her Father hung on high,
Still, on her bosom wears the enamelled vest,
That bloom'd and budded on her infant breast;
Still, to the sportive breeze that round her blows,
Turns her warm cheek, her unshorn tresses throws ;
With grateful hand her treasur'd balm bequeaths,
For every sigh the enamour'd rover breathes,
And even smiles to feel the flutterer sip
The virgin dew that cools her rosy lip.
There, through the clouds, stupendous mountains rise,
And lift their icy foreheads to the skies;
There, blooming valleys and secure retreats
Bathe all thy senses in voluptuous sweets:
Reclining there, beneath a bending tree,
Fraught with the fragrant labours of the bee,
Admire, with me, the birds of varied hue,
That hang, like flowers of orange and of blue,
Among the broad magnolia's cups of snow,
Quaffing the perfumes, from those cups that flow.
But, is all peace beneath the mountain shade ?
Do Love and Mercy haunt that sunny glade,
And sweetly rest upon that lovely shore,
When light retires, and nature smiles no more?
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