the Magazine. When that is done, it may be further reserved for my own decision, or that of my readers, if I could learn it, whether I shall proceed, in like manner, to consider the use of other gifts, without saying To be continued '-that awful sentence, which, affixed to a dull paper, drives the enduring reader to despair, and-to tell a secret-sometimes the writer too.
"For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee."
WHEN first from the Creator's hand arose,
Unburdened yet with guilt and human woes,
Fair Eden, smiling with perennial bloom,
Nor used to death, nor conscious of the tomb:
In those bright days of new-created man,
Where life commenced, there piety began;
As the first brightness of the morning star
Darts, ere he quits the east, his rays afar,
Rolls springing forward on the heavenly way,
And shines the harbinger of grateful day.
How sweet that season of celestial joy!
Unmingled happiness without alloy !
How sweet the shadows of the watered glade,
Where, in the coolness of the evening shade,
Man with his Maker held communion high,
And earth appeared the portals of the sky!
How sweet religion then! free, unconfined,
The native impulse of the grateful mind;
It knew no bounds, obeyed no base controul,
Concentrated the passions of the soul.
How sweet!-alas! those storms of sin and woe
Conceal the prospect, as they roll below.
Why do those sudden mists obscure my view?
Why fades so swiftly that celestial hue?
The winged lightnings flash, the thunders roll,
And clouds of sorrow darken all my soul.
The gloom of death! more dark than sable night!
Thou, Earth, be void! Ye Heavens, refuse your
For guilt hath entered, and the curse of guilt,
And human blood by human hand is spilt.
Yet, even in desolation, hear a voice,
That bids a fallen universe rejoice;
It tells of One to come, who strong to save,
Shall conquer death, and triumph o'er the grave;
From age to age, that voice, that glorious song,
Awakes more frequent, and is heard more strong.
Jehovah comes! yet not in pomp arrayed—
Go see the couch on which the Lord is laid.
Jehovah comes! he leaves his Father's throne,
And dwells with man, unhonoured and unknown.
As a fair plant from some more genial land,
Removed to languish on a foreign strand,
Its verdure faded, and its colour fled,
Hangs o'er the thirsty soil its drooping head,—
Thus shall the Lord of heaven and earth appear,
Such form, such semblance, shall Jehovah wear.
Who will believe the true report we bring,
And own the Man of Sorrows for their King?
Behold the man! rejected by the race,
Whose whole existence hangs upon his grace;
Nor state nor homage at his steps attend,
Nor suppliant monarchs in his presence bend.
Each sorrow that the human heart can bear,
Each bitter anguish, and each poignant care,
That bitter cup of wrath-his Father's wrath,
When treason lurked beneath a form of love,
He hurled not down his thunders from above;
He bade no angels draw the flaming blade,
Called no celestial legions to his aid;
But fought the fight, and bruised the serpent's head,
And where he trod, commands his saints to tread.
See how the splendours of his kingdom rise,
Expanding as the paynim darkness flies,
And still shall spread, until his glories shine,
Unchecked and unopposed, from clime to clime,
"Believe and live!" the sacred heralds cry;
Repent ye nations, wherefore will ye die?"
The joyful message wings its rapid way,
Ye people hail it, and ye kings obey!
Through every region, and through every land,
From Canaan's fountains, and Arabia's sand,
Announce him to the nations, far and near;
Let all, let Tarshish, Tubal, Javan hear.
Go ye to Pul and Lud that draw the bow,
And let the islands of the Gentiles know,
That have not seen his might-to them proclaim
The glory of his kingdom and his name.
Unsung the years of long millennial peace,
When wars shall be no more, and troubles cease;
The day of wrath, that great and glorious day,
When earth shall burn, the heavens shall pass
Unsung remain! My spirit, rise more high!
Rise, till thou catch some anthem from the sky;
Rise, till thou join yon circling choirs above,
And sing the vastness of a Saviour's love.
Behold, from every tongue and every land,
Around the throne those myriad myriads stand,
They shine resplendent on the dazzled sight,
Their harps are gold, their raiment is the light!
Who shall describe the blessings of the blest?
Who sing the fulness of eternal rest?
Loud as the music of the water-flood,
To him who hath redeemed them with his blood,
Their joyful songs of gratitude they raise,
And all creation echoes back his praise.
"To Him that sits upon the throne, and Thee,
Thou Lamb of God, eternal honours be!
To Thee our life, our happiness we owe,
Thy blood and death hath saved us from our woe.
Glory to God and to the Lamb! Amen!" From far,
From every planet, and from every star,
Those sounds upon mine ear re-echoed fall,
"Amen! Amen!" and "God is all in all!"
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