So lurk'd there still in her a living ray, The sinking heart unto a rush will cling; Such hope lit up the Husband's bright'ning eye, With grateful thought thy pencil'd hues ; We look on thy resemblance here, We'll think that Thou, blest messenger of Life, First to our hopes gave back the Mother and the Wife. WRITTEN DURING A THUNDER STORM. JULY 14TH, 1810. - Ιθύνει σκολιόν, και αγήνορα κάρφει HESIOD. How awfully tremendous is the scene! Now, breaking out in angry open warfare, And fear'st thou not 'twill blast thee? Where, where now Shall the proud Atheist hide himself? where now His boasted courage? E'en the good must tremble; To guilty minds how terrible!-O! THOÚ, Shrouding the brightness of thy majesty In clouds and thickest darkness; O! great GOD! In THEE, with humble confidence, I trust For safety; into THY ALMIGHTY HAND I commit those I love!-And, as Thou teachest To pray for all, let these thy Signs on earth Carry conviction to the harden'd sinner, And turn him to his GoD! Nor with the cause Let die th' effect; not with the ceasing storm Let each impression fade, which it produced;— Thou wilt not thus be mock'd! Tho' merciful, Yet art Thou just; and wilt not always spare: -But, as the scene shall brighten to the view, And each dark cloud disperse, so may the sinner |