288

PALESTINE.

There, down from his mountains stern Zebulon came,
And Naphtali's stag, with his eyeballs of flame,
And the chariots of Jabin rolled harmlessly on,

For the arm of the Lord was Abinoam's son

There sleep the still rocks and the caverns which rang
To the song which the beautiful prophetess sang,
When the princess of Issachar stood by her side,
And the shout of a host in its triumph replied.

Lo, Bethlehem's hill-site before me is seen,

With the mountains around and the valleys between;
There rested the shepherds of Judah, and there
The song of the angels rose sweet in the air.

And Bethany's palm trees in beauty still throw
Their shadows at noon on the ruins below;

But where are the sisters who hastened to greet
The lowly Redeemer, and sit, at his feet?

I tread where the twelve in their wayfaring trod :

I stand where they stood with the chosen of God-
Where His blessings were heard and His lessons were taught,
Where the blind were restored and the healing was wrought.

O, here with his flock the sad Wanderer came-
These hills he toiled over in grief, are the same-
The founts where He drank by the wayside still flow,

And the same airs are blowing which breathed on his brow.

:

PALESTINE.

And throned on her hills sits Jerusalem yet,

But with dust on her forehead, and chains on her feet;
For the crown of her pride to the mocker hath gone,

And the holy Shekinah is dark where it shone.

But wherefore this dream of the earthly abode

Of humanity clothed in the brightness of God?
Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim,
It could gaze, even now, on the presence of Him!

Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when,

289

In love and in meekness, He moved among men ;
And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea, .
In the hush of my spirit would whisper to me!

And what if my feet may not tread where He stood,
Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee's flood,

Nor my eyes see the cross which He bowed Him to bear,
Nor my knees press Gethsemane's garden of prayer.

Yet, Loved of the Father, Thy Spirit is near
To the meek, and the lowly, and penitent here;
And the voice of Thy love is the same even now,
As at Bethany's tomb, or on Olivet's brow.

O, the outward hath gone!-but, in glory and power,
The Spirit surviveth the things of an hour;
Unchanged, undecaying, its Pentecost flame

On the heart's secret altar is burning the same!

John G. Whittier.

The First and Second Eaming.

BRIGHT beaming through the sky,

Burst in full blaze the dayspring from on high;
Earth's utmost isles exulted at the sight,
And crowded nations drank the orient light.
Lo, star-led chiefs Assyrian odors bring,
And bending Magi seek their infant King!
Marked ye, where hovering o'er His radiant head,
The dove's white wings celestial glory shed?
Daughter of Sion! virgin queen! rejoice!
Clap the glad hand, and lift th' exulting voice!
He comes, but not in regal splendor drest,
The haughty diadem, the Tyrian vest ;
Not armed in flame, all-glorious from afar,
Of hosts the chieftain, and the lord of war:
Messiah comes !-let furious discord cease;
Be peace on earth before the Prince of Peace!
Disease and anguish feel his blest control,
And howling fiends release the tortured soul;
The beams of gladness hell's dark caves illume,
And Mercy broods above the distant gloom.

THE FIRST AND SECOND COMING.

Thou palsied earth, with noonday night o'erspread!
Thou sickening sun, so dark, so deep, so red!

Ye hovering ghosts, that throng the starless air,
Why shakes the earth? why fades the light? declare!
Are those His limbs, with ruthless scourges torn?
His brows, all bleeding with the twisted thorn?
His the pale form, the meek forgiving eye
Raised from the cross in patient agony ?

Be dark, thou sun,-thou noonday night arise,
And hide, oh hide, the dreadful sacrifice!
Ye faithful few, by bold affection led,

Who round the Saviour's cross your sorrows shed,
Not for his sake your tearful vigils keep ;-
Weep for your country, for your children weep!

Yet shall she rise; but not by war restored;
Not built in murder,-planted by the sword;
Yes, Salem, thou shalt rise; thy Father's aid
Shall heal the wound his chastening hand has made;
Shall judge the proud oppressor's ruthless sway,
And burst his brazen bands, and cast his cords away;
Then on your tops shall deathless verdure spring,
Break forth, ye mountains, and, ye valleys sing!
No more your thirsty rocks shall frown forlorn,
The unbeliever's jest, the heathen's scorn;
The sultry sands shall tenfold harvests yield,
And a new Eden deck the thorny field.

291

292

THE FIRST AND SECOND COMING.

F'en now, perchance, wide-waving o'er the land,
That mighty Angel lifts his golden wand,
Courts the bright vision of descending power,
Tells every gate, and measures every tower;
And chides the tardy seals that yet detain
Thy Lion, Judah, from his destined reign.

And who is He? the vast, the awful form,
Girt with the whirlwind, sandal'd with the storm?
A western cloud around His limbs is spread,
His crown a rainbow, and a sun His head.
To highest Heaven He lifts his kingly hand,
And treads at once the ocean and the land;
And hark! His voice amid the thunder's roar,
His dreadful voice, that time shall be no more!

Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare,
Lo! thrones arise, and every saint is there;
Earth's utmost bounds confess the awful sway,
The mountains worship, and the isles obey;
Nor sun, nor moon they need,-nor day, nor night;—
God is their temple, and the Lamb their light :
And shall not Israel's sons exulting come,

Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home?
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign,
And the dry bones be warm with life again.
Hark! white-robed crowds their deep hosannas raise,
And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise;