Now hearts are ice, and you, my freezing fold,
Have spirits sunk and sad, and bosoms stony-cold,'
"Oh! now again for those prevailing powers,
Which once began this mighty work of ours;
490
When the wide field, God's temple, was the place,
And birds flew by to catch a breath of grace;
When 'mid his timid friends and threat'ning foes,
Our zealous chief as Paul at Athens rose:
When with infernal spite and knotty clubs