Alas! for her Thy opening flowers
Unheeded breathe to summer showers,
Unheard the music of Thy bowers.
What echoes from the sacred dome
The selfish spirit may o’ercome
That will not hear of love or home!
The heart that scorned a father’s care,
How can it rise in filial prayer?
How an all-seeing Guardian bear?
Or how shall envious brethren own
A Brother on the eternal throne,
Their Father’s joy, their hops alone?
How shall Thy Spirit’s gracious wile
The sullen brow of gloom beguile,
That frowns on sweet Affection’s smile?
Eternal One, Almighty Trine!
(Since Thou art ours, and we are Thine,)
By all Thy love did once resign,
By all the grace Thy heavens still hide,
We pray Thee, keep us at Thy side,
Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide!
First Sunday after Trinity.
So Joshua smote all the country, . . . and all their kings; he left none remaining. Joshua x. 40.
Where is the land with milk and honey flowing,
The promise of our God, our fancy’s theme?
Here over shattered walls dank weeds are growing,
And blood and fire have run in mingled stream;
Like oaks and cedars all around
The giant corses strew the ground,
And haughty Jericho’s cloud-piercing wall
Lies where it sank at Joshua’s trumpet call.