And since, when that curious bird I behold
Arrayed in rich colors, and dusted with gold,
I cannot but think of the wrath and the spite,
She has in reserve, though they ’re kept out of sight.
These two-footed, beautiful, passionate things,
If plumeless or plumy, without or with wings,
Should go to the glass, or the painter, and sit
When anger is just at the height of its fit.
[THE SABBATH.]
Day of days, the dearest, best,
Hallowed by Jehovah’s rest!
When his six-days’ work was done,
Holy rose the seventh sun.
When creation’s pillars stood,
And the Lord pronounced them good,
Morning stars together sang—
Heaven with Sabbath praises rang.
Earth in pristine beauty shone,
Like a gem, before his throne,
While he marked thee, as his claim—
And he sealed thee with his name.
Choice of God, thou blessed day!
At thy dawn the grave gave way
To the power of him within,
Who had, sinless, bled for sin.
Thine the radiance to illume
First, for man, the dismal tomb,
When its bars their weakness owned,
There revealing death dethroned.