PARADISE.
And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto Thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.—Luke, xxiii. 43.
To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God.—Revelation, ii. 7.
So on he fares, and to the border comes
Of Eden, whose delicious Paradise
Now nearer crowns with her enclosure green,
As with a rural mound, the champaign head
Of a steep wilderness, whose hoary sides,
With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,
Access denied: and overhead up-grew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar and pine, and fir, and branching palm;
A sylvan scene! And as the ranks ascend,
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops
The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung;
Which to our general sire gave prospect large
Into his nether empire neighb’ring round.
Milton.
Say’st thou there was no “Paradise of God?”
No happy, sinless state of early man?
Ask all the ages past, each record scan,
And see if always cursed was this now barren sod.
Go ask the Greek—he tells of Golden age,
When the god-governed earth was heavenly pure;
When never death, nor woes men now endure
Had entered here, nor hate, nor guile, nor rage.
The eastern Magian speaks of earliest days,
When holy Oromasdes reign’d o’er man:
The far Egyptian tells Osiris’ praise,
Governing all in peace, ere rude revolt began.
And wilt thou God’s own Paradise deny,
When e’en the heathen tales affirm it ceaselessly?
Ann Flinders.
Lord I will take no comfort but of Thee!
I had an earthly plant—a pleasant vine,
From whose dear grapes I pressed delightful wine,
Which made my heart as merry as could be.
Thine anger hath cut down that cheerful tree;
Or at the least, (for yet I but divine,)
Thou hast cut off its joyful fruit from me,
And made its precious shade no longer mine.
Shall I then murmur? If my road henceforth
Lies but before me wearisome and bare,
And no green garland twined amid my hair
Will guard, as it was wont, my tortured eyes,
What then? The sweeter after this stripped earth
Will be the shady rest of Paradise.
Thomas Burbidge.
The God of nature and of grace
In all His work appears;
His goodness through the earth we trace,
His grandeur in the spheres.
Behold this fair and fertile globe,
By Him in wisdom planned;
’Twas He who girded, like a robe,
The ocean round the land.
Lift to the firmament your eye,
Thither His path pursue;
His glory boundless as the sky,
O’erwhelms the wandering view.
The forests in His strength rejoice,
Hark! on the evening breeze,
As once of old, the Lord God’s voice
Is heard among the trees.
His blessings fall in plenteous showers
Upon the lap of earth,
That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers,
And rings with infant mirth.
If God hath made the world so fair,
Where sin and death abound;
How beautiful, beyond compare,
Will Paradise be found!
James Montgomery.