Hark! the majestic sound! the trumpet hear!
See the astonish'd tombs give up their prey!
Oh God! my Savior! 'tis thy voice I hear!
And with my child, I come t'eternal day,
Awake my infant; open now thine eyes,
Leave the corruption of thy mortal birth,
Arise my child, to thy Redeemer rise,
And taste at length the joy denied on earth,
Before his face death must yield to life;
Hope to real joy ... there, purged from sins,
Serenety succeeds to grief and strife, Time flies...
Eternity begins.
In this blessed hope
Sure that her Saviour will fulfill his promise,
Reposes in this Tomb,
Guarded by a tender and sorrowful husband,
Mary Magdalen Waber,
Born 8th August, 1723;
And who departed this life on Easter-Eve 1751,
The wife of
George Langhans,
Preacher of the gospel at Hindelbanck.
Boston Mag., I-56, Dec. 1783, Boston.
THE BACCHANALIAN.
(Translated from the German.)
The thunder rolls dreadfully through the dark sky,
To the cellar I quickly retire;
Think not that I wish from the thunder to fly;
No—'tis for the best wine to enquire.
Universal Asylum and Columbian Mag., IV-253, Apr. 1790, Phila.
LETTER LXI. OF THE SORROWS OF
WERTER, VERSIFIED.
Though Homer fired my youthful breast,
My tender fancy deep imprest,
Ere grief had made me smart:
Yet of him Ossian has ta'en place;
His woe-fraught strains, with solemn grace,
Now occupy my heart.
To what a world of direful kind,
The Bard illustrious leads my mind,
'Midst heaths and wilds to stray;
Where the fierce whirlwinds sweep the plain;
Where the moon feebly holds her reign;
And ghosts elude the day.