If, when deceived and wounded here, The friends who in our sunshine live, When joy no longer soothes or cheers, Oh! who would bear life's stormy doom, Did not thy wing of love Come, brightly wafting through the gloom Our peace-branch from above? Then sorrow, touch'd by Thee, grows bright As darkness shows us worlds of light WEEP NOT FOR THOSE. AIR.-Avison. I. WEEP not for those whom the veil of the tomb, And but sleeps till the sunshine of heaven has unchain'd it, In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes, Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies. II. Mourn not for her, the young Bride of the vale,* And the garland of love was yet fresh on her brow! From this gloomy world, while its gloom was unknown→ And the wild hymns she warbled so sweetly, in dying, Were echoed in heaven by lips like her own! Weep not for her,-in her spring-time she flew To that land where the wings of the soul are unfurl'd, And now, like a star beyond evening's cold dew, Looks radiantly down on the tears of this world. THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT SHRINE. AIR. Stevenson. I. THE turf shall be my fragrant shrine; II. My choir shall be the moonlight waves, Even more than music, breathes of Thee! III. I'll seek, by day, some glade unknown, All light and silence, like thy throne! *This second verse, which I wrote long after the first, alludes to the fate of a very lovely and amiable girl, the daughter of the late Colonel Bainbrigge, who was married in Ashbourne church, Oct. 31, 1815, and died of a fever in a few weeks after: the sound of her marriage-bells seemed scarcely out of our ears when we heard of her death. During her last delirium she sung several hymns, in a voice even clearer and sweeter than usual, and among them were some from the present collection (particularly, "There's nothing bright but Heaven"), which this very interesting girl had often heard during the summer. + Pii orant tacite. And the pale stars shall be, at night, IV. Thy heaven, on which 'tis bliss to look, V. I'll read thy anger in the rack That clouds awhile the day-beam's track; Of sunny brightness breaking through! VI. There's nothing bright, above, below, VII. There's nothing dark, below, above, And meekly wait that moment when SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.-MIRIAM'S SONG. AIR.-Avison.* "And Miriam, the Prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her, with timbrels and with dances."--Exod. xv. 20. I. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! His chariots, his horsemen all splendid and brave * I have so altered the character of this air, which is from the beginning of one of Avison's old-fashioned concertos, that, without this acknowledgment, it could hardly, I think, be recognised. How vain was their boasting!-The Lord hath but spoken, II. Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord! Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? GO, LET ME WEEP. AIR.-Stevenson. I. Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, II. Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew * "And it came to pass, that, in the morning watch, the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians, through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians."-Exod. xiv. 24. The heart where pure repentance grieves COME NOT, OH LORD!. I. COME not, oh Lord! in the dread robe of splendour II. Lord! thou rememberest the night, when thy nation* III. So, when the dread clouds of anger enfold thee, WERE NOT THE SINFUL MARY'S TEARS. AIR-Stevenson. I. WERE not the sinful Mary's tears An offering worthy heaven, * "And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these."-Exod. xiv. 20. My application of this passage is borrowed from some late prose writer, whose name I am ungrateful enough to forget. + Instead of "On Egypt" here, it will suit the music better to sing "On these ;" and in the third line of the next verse, "While shrouded" may, with the same view, be altered to "While wrapp'd." U |