51
And bade the faithless sons of Adam see
A Father's changeless love portrayed in thee?
A Father's changeless love portrayed in thee?
Oh! on thy form what human eye can gaze,
Nor turn from thee to long-departed days,
To Judah's once-loved land, so trebly blest,
Where throned on earth the Almighty seemed to rest,
Where all was peace and joy? How changed now!
The brand of wrath imprinted on her brow,—
Her altars reft,—her glory passed away,—
Yet lovely still 'mid ruin and decay.
Nor turn from thee to long-departed days,
To Judah's once-loved land, so trebly blest,
Where throned on earth the Almighty seemed to rest,
Where all was peace and joy? How changed now!
The brand of wrath imprinted on her brow,—
Her altars reft,—her glory passed away,—
Yet lovely still 'mid ruin and decay.
But oh! sweet land, thine own majestic flower
Calls not to mind alone thy days of power,
When, 'mid the Temple's gorgeous treasures found,
In imaged wreaths the lily twined around;
But when her form of beauty towers on high,
Long years depart; and bright on Fancy's eve
Far scenes revive:—beneath thy cloudless skies
She sees in thought the mountain's brow arise,—
The listening group who silent stand around
One Godlike Form, and long to catch each sound
Which falls from lips whose glowing accents seem
To pierce the souls which hear with heavenly beau.
And o'er each melting heart in mercy pour
Such words of love as earth ne'er heard before,
Hark! how He bids all Nature wisdom yield,—
"Behold," saith He, "the lilies of the field;
No life of anxious thought or pride is theirs,
They toil not, spin not, feel no earth-born cares.
Yet David's son, in all his pomp of power,
Was not arrayed like yonder simple flower;
Calls not to mind alone thy days of power,
When, 'mid the Temple's gorgeous treasures found,
In imaged wreaths the lily twined around;
But when her form of beauty towers on high,
Long years depart; and bright on Fancy's eve
Far scenes revive:—beneath thy cloudless skies
She sees in thought the mountain's brow arise,—
The listening group who silent stand around
One Godlike Form, and long to catch each sound
Which falls from lips whose glowing accents seem
To pierce the souls which hear with heavenly beau.
And o'er each melting heart in mercy pour
Such words of love as earth ne'er heard before,
Hark! how He bids all Nature wisdom yield,—
"Behold," saith He, "the lilies of the field;
No life of anxious thought or pride is theirs,
They toil not, spin not, feel no earth-born cares.
Yet David's son, in all his pomp of power,
Was not arrayed like yonder simple flower;
