THE THUNDERSTORM AT BATHURST.
’Twas eve; but ’twas not as it oft had been,
When the sun, ere he sank from the lovely scene,
Had smiled in glory o’er mount and dale,
And the forest gloom, and the cloudlet pale,
And the verdant lawn, and the flow’ret gay,
Were tinged with the gold of his parting ray.
While sweet was the breath of the scented gale;
While the flocks bounded foldwards along the vale,
And the soberer herds from the distant plain
Were wending towards home in their lengthened train.
’Twas eve; but there was not the softened hue
Which the twilight oft o’er the landscape threw:
I felt not the breath of the evening breeze;
I saw not the wave of the forest trees;
I heard not the warbler’s vesper song;—
They had sunk in silence their woods among.
But the landscape was wrapped in a thickening gloom,
Like a funeral pall for a night of doom;
For a storm frowned dark from the western sky,
And the gloom deepened more as the storm drew nigh.
I listened;—the music of eve was stilled;
But heavy the distant thunder pealed.
I looked;—I saw not the sun’s bright beam,
But there was the lurid lightning’s gleam:—
And they came in fury,—the lightning’s flash,
And the wild wind’s sweep, and the thunder’s crash;
The fire stream poured on the fear-struck sight
A moment of day,—then a deeper night
Sank black on all, while the forest reeled
’Neath the rushing blast, and the thunder pealed
Through the echoing heaven;—in that dread hour
How puny the arm of a mortal’s power!
—But they passed away; the thunder’s crash,
And the wild wind’s sweep, and the lightning’s flash,
And the dark cloud’s gloom;—they rolled afar;
While the moon’s mild beam, and the twinkling star
Again shed their light o’er the peaceful scene,
And the storm was gone,—as it ne’er had been.
I looked again;—the morning beamed,
And the golden rays of the bright sun streamed:
A richer blue in the ether mild,
And a lovelier hue in the flow’ret smiled.
The landscape was vested with softer green,
And the dewdrops pure in their silvery sheen
Were sparkling around in the morning ray,
And night had melted in cloudless day.—
I thought of an hour when round my soul
I had heard heaven’s justice-thunders roll;
When dark clouds gathering o’er my head
Were filling a guilty heart with dread;
When I feared each flash of the wrath divine,
And tremblingly watched each nearing sign
Of a righteous anger’s rushing power
That was making a sin-struck spirit cower.
But the storm swept by;—the lightning dread
Left all unscathed my guilty head,
And the dark cloud melted as it passed
In showers of blessing, while the blast
Sank to the whisper of mercy’s voice,
That bade the trembling soul rejoice
In peace and pardon, light and love.—
I looked;—’twas a starlit heaven above!
And bright-eyed angels seemed to gaze
In smiling myriads through the rays;
To watch the sinner’s heaving breast,
And mark how its terrors sank to rest.
And then the light of angel eyes
Melted away in the brightening skies,
As silent, soothing, gently stole
The sense of pardon on the soul,
For now ’twas God’s own smile that beamed,
And the rays of His mercy around me streamed;
The Sun had risen! The night was o’er;—
The Sun had risen, to set no more!
A MORNING WISH FOR A FRIEND.
Darkness retires, and the brightening morn
Smiles as he heralds the day new born.
Mists roll away from the mountain’s brow,
And his head wears a circlet of sunlight now.
Night’s savage prowlers to caverns glide,
As seeking in darkness their deeds to hide;
While, mounting majestic his radiant throne,
With the glance of a monarch who reigns alone,
The sun looks forth from his palace of light,
And bids from his presence the gloom of night.
Glittering dewdrops reflect his ray,
Songsters carol on hillock and spray,
The woodlands wave to the breeze’s breath,
The ripple plays light o’er the lake beneath,
The flocks from the fold towards the uplands bound,
And the echoing hills with their voices sound:
Nature unanimous joins to pay
A tribute of joy to the welcome day.
But there’s a day of a brighter beam,
For its light from a brighter sun doth stream:
Sin and sorrow’s dark clouds from its brightness fly
And the soul gains a prospect to worlds on high.
’Tis a day that dawns from the realms above,
’Tis illumined by beams of eternal love:
’Tis a day whose light is the smile of God,
Shedding heaven-born peace in the heart abroad.
The gloom of grief, and the mists of care
Melt away in its radiance, while black despair,
Far chased by the beams of its glory, flies,
And leaves to the soul heaven’s cloudless skies.
Sister, may this bright day be thine!
Around thy soul may its sunbeams shine!
Be thy path in the light of its brightening rays,
And its gladdening glory on “all thy ways;”
Revealing from heaven thy title clear,
“To mansions” of endless glory there!