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TO THE Rev. THOMAS PARKINSON, D.D. ARCHDEACON OF LEICESTER, CHANCELLOR OF CHESTER, AND
RECTOR OF KEGWORTH,
By his Obliged and Faithful Friend,
THOMAS MOORE. May 22, 1824.
THOU ART, OH GOD!
Air.- Unknown. *
“The day is thine ; the night also is thine : thou hast prepared the light and the sun.
“ Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast made summer and winter.”—Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17.
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Are but reflections caught from thee.
Among the opening clouds of Even, * I have heard that this air is by the late Mrs. Sheridan. It is sung to the beautiful old words, “I do confess thour't smooth and fair."
And we can almost think we gaze
Through golden vistas into heaven-
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes-
Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
Is born beneath that kindling eye. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are Thine!
THIS WORLD IS ALL A FLEETING SHOW,
For man's illusion given;
As fading hues of Even;
From wave to wave we're driven,
FALLEN IS THY THRONE.
Silence is o'er thy plains ;
Thy children weepin chains.
On Etham's barrep shore ?
Once she was all thy own ;
Her power thy glory's throne;
Thy long-loved olive-tree;
Then pass’d her glory's day,
The wild wind whirls away.
Where once the mighty trod,
Steep in her blood your swords, * “I have left mine heritage; I have given the dearlybeloved of my soul into the hands of her enemies.”-Jeremiah sii. 7.
+ “Do not disgrace the throne of thy glory.”-Jer. xiv. 21. + “The Lord called thy name a green olive-tree; fair and of goodly fruit,” etc.-Jer. xi. 16,
$"For he shall be like the heath in the desert." -Jer. xvii. 6.
And rase to earth her battlements;
For they are not the Lord's!
O'er kindred bones shall tread,
Shall hide but half her dead!”
WHO IS THE MAID ?-ST.JEROME'S LOVE.I
Through cold reproof and slander's blight?
Is her's an eye of this world's light?
Are the pale looks of her I love;
From those who seek their Maker's shrine
As if themselves were things divine!
That beats beneath a broider'd veil ;
To mourn her frailty, still is frail.
Not so the faded form I prize
And love, because its bloom is gone ; * " Take away her battlements; for they are not the Lord's.” --Jer. v. 10.
+ “Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that ît shall no more be called Tophet, nor the Valley of the Son of Hinnom, but the Valley of Slaughter; for they shall bury in Tophet till there be no place.”—Jer. vii. 32.
“These lines were suggested by a passage in St. Jerome's reply to some calumnious remarks that had been circulated upon his intimacy with the matron Paula :-“Numquid me vestes sericæ, nitentes gemmæ, picta facies, aut auri rapuit ambitio? Nulla fuit alia Romæ matronarum, quæ meam possit edomare mentem, nisi lugens atque jejunans, fletu pene cæcata.”—Epist : “Si tibi putem.”
The glory in those säinted eyes
Is all the grace her brow puts on.
So touching as 'that form's decay,
In holy lustre wastes away!
THE BIRD, LET LOOSE.
When hastening fondly home,
Where idle warblers roam,
Above all low delay,
And stain of passion free,
To hold my course to Thee!
My Soul, as home she springs ;-
Thy freedom in her wings !
OH! THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR:
* He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.”—Psalm cxlvii. 3.
How dark this world would be, * The carrier-pigeon, it is well known, flies at an elevated pitch, in order to surmount every obstacle between her and the place to which she is destined.