{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "4C\\n-^e neat bin Jurmhle mansion rises ne;\\nEmz,osomed mils leRfy solitude.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0009.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0010.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "DOMESTIC\\nRELIGIOUS OFFERING\\nILLUSTRATIVE OF\\nAMERICAN SCENERY, RURAL LIFE, AND HISTOR-\\nICAL INCIDENTS, AND ALSO OF RELIGIOUS\\nFEELINGS.\\nSECOND EDITION.\\nWITH ADDITIONS BY THE AUTHOR.\\nBOSTON:\\nWAITE, PEIRCE AND COMPANY\\nNo. 1 Cornhill.\\n1845.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0011.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "t\\n75 3)13\\nEntered according to Act of Congress in the year 1842, in the District Clerk s\\nOffice of the District Court of Maine.\\nWHITE, LEWIS POTTER, PRINTERS,\\nSpring Lane, corner Devonshire-st.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0012.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "NOTICE.\\nIt has been the object of the PubHsherj in col-\\nlecting and publishing the materials of this volume,\\nto present to the public a work which, while it did\\nnot exclude other topics, should, as a whole, be de-\\ncidedly of a moral and religious character.\\nIn the present state of popular literature it is some\\ncommendation to say, that the following poems\\ncontain nothing offensive to correct taste, morals,\\nand religion. But this is not all. We cannot but\\nthink, that the lovers of genuine poetry, those who\\ncan distinguish between the truth and the exaggera-\\ntions of nature, will find something in them that is\\nsubstantial and positive. In making this remark, we\\nrely upon the ascertained opinions of others, as\\nmuch and more than upon our own. The attempt\\nto describe American Cottage Life, in the poems on\\nthat subject, and in the Days of Youth, is some-\\nthing new, and is not without its difficulties but\\nwe do not doubt that some portions of them, at\\nleast, will find a responsive chord in many bosoms.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0013.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "11 NOTICE.\\nThe work is i^atriotic and American in its character,\\nas well as Christian. It is perhaps proper to add,\\nthat the materials of this volume are all from one\\nhand but it will be seen that there is ample variety\\nboth in the topics introduced and in the manner of\\nillustrating them. D. S. K.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0014.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nPART I.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE DOMESTIC OFFERING.\\nKeflections on the New Year 9\\nDays of Youth. Parti 12\\nu i( 11 27\\nVanity of Human Pursuits 42\\nAmerican Cottage Life.\\nThe Farmer s Fireside 53\\nThe Home in the Mountains 63\\nThe Winter Evening 71\\nThe Cottage Revisited 81\\nThe Widow and her Children 91\\nThe Snow-Storm 98\\nThanksgiving Day 104\\nBallads and Songs.\\nDeath of Colonel Hayne 114\\nDestruction of the Willey Family 122\\nYanko, the Noble Negro 131\\nThe Frozen Family of Illinois 137\\nDark-Rolling Connecticut 143\\nThe Closing Year 144\\nThe Sick Child 145\\nThe Wounded Bird 146\\nThe Hunters 147\\nT is Many a Year 148\\nWhen the Cherub of Mercy 149\\nThe Landscape 150\\nSing that Song Again 150\\nSong of the Pilgrims 151\\nThe Daughters of the Sun 153\\nThe Bower 154\\nThe Deserted Island 154\\nThe Exile s Song 155\\nWhen Autumn s Star was Brightly Beaming 156", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0015.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "4 CONTENTS.\\nCocheco 158\\nMaid of Suncook 159\\nSweep Harp of my Country 160-\\nPART IL\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE RELIGIOUS OFFERING.\\nPatmos, or Meditations in Solitude 163\\nThe Sabbath 178\\nEvening Reflections 185\\nSennacherib 186\\nDying Thoughts 187\\nScripture Sonnets.\\nThe Liberty of the Gospel 188\\nDivine Light 189\\nThe Good Shepherd 190\\nFear of Death 191\\nThe Power of God in Creation 192\\nThe Sabbath 193\\nNecessity of Divine Illumination 194\\nRestoration of the Divine Image 195\\nThe Blessed Name of Christ 196\\nTrue Rectitude 197\\nSubjection to God 198\\nThe Millennial Day 199\\nThe Sovereign Will 200\\nHe standeth at the Door 201\\nConfidence in God in Bereavements 202\\nThe Light of Faith 203\\nMeekness of Spirit 204\\nGod Angry with Rebellious Nations 205\\nGod Righteous in Judgments 206\\nConsolation in the Gospel 207\\nThe Poor of this World Rich in Christ 208\\nStrength from the Cross 209\\nVanity of Life 210\\nThe Ruler of the Nations 211\\nThe Place of Refuge 212\\nGod Worshipped in his Works 213\\nThe Hidden Life 214\\nHelp in the Wilderness 215\\nTrust in the Saviour 216\\nSupport in Affliction 217\\nChristian Benevolence 218\\nThe Book of Judgment 219\\nThe Source of Happiness in the Soul 220\\nDeath of a Young Christian 221\\nLiving Near to Christ 222", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0016.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS. O\\nMeditations on Christ 223\\nThe Glimpse of Heaven 224\\nThe Last Trump 225\\nThe Resurrection 226\\nThe True Ground of Joy 227\\nThe Pride of Man Confounded 228\\nThe Phvsician of the Mind 229\\nSorrow for Sin 230\\nChrist s Yoke Easy 231\\nLove of the World 232\\nI shall yet Praise Him 233\\nA Divided Mind 234\\nSubmission in Sickness 235\\nLight in Goshen 236\\nThe Voyage 237\\nThe Grave of the Beautiful 238\\nThe Christian Pilgrim 239\\nDepise not the Beginnings 240\\nUncertainty of Earthly Objects 24]\\nGod no Respecter of Persons 242\\nThe Fountain of Jerusalem 243\\nParental Bereavement 244\\nI Would not Always Live 245\\nMystery of the New Birth 246\\nLight 247\\nConstancy 248\\nThe Power of Faith 249\\nThe Wreck. 250\\nReligious Recollections 251\\nDepravity of the Heart 252\\nProtection in Danger 253\\nHumility 254\\nThe Christian s Confidence m God 255\\nI will not Blame Thee 256\\nVanity of Fame 257\\nHe Loveth Whom He Chasteneth 258\\nPersecution 259\\nThe Good Shepherd 260\\nThe Church 261\\nThe Returning Dove 262\\nThe Martyrs 263\\nHeaven 264\\nChrist s Intercession 265\\nRejoicing in God 266\\nSecret Prayer 267\\nSpiritual Freedom 268\\nUnion with Christ 269\\nEternity 270\\nWinter 271\\nThe Last Sleep.: 272\\nGod Seen in the Mind 273", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0017.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "6 CONTENTS.\\nReligious Hymns and Songs.\\nPenitence... 274\\nThe Captive Jew 275\\nSolomon s Choice 276\\nLike the Streams from Mount Hermon 276\\nSubmission 277\\nLong did the Clouds and Darkness Roll 278\\nJehovah, Sovreignof my Heart 279\\nOh, could I Rule my Erring Heart 279\\nIf Thou Would have the World to Prize 280\\nSometimes I Upwards Lift my Eye 281\\nMan s Spirit hath an Upward Look 282\\nThe Secret Sign 282\\nDark is theWatery Way 283\\nThou Giver of the Rising Light 284\\nMy Heart is in a Land Afar... 285\\nAlthough Affliction Smites my Heart 286\\nWilt Thou, Oh My Father, Leave Me 286\\nThe Divine Life 287\\nThey say their Path with Flowers is Strown 288\\nIf there is Sunshine in the Face. 288\\nPower ol God 289\\nThe Song of the Angels 290\\nGod Praised in His Works 291\\nProtection from God 291\\nThe Orphan 292\\nFar in the Lonely Woods 293\\nEarthly Objects Unsatisfying 294\\nThe Best Friendship 295\\nThe Departing Christian 296\\nOmnipresence of the Deity 296\\nOh, Could I Behold 297\\nDoubts and Fears 298\\nHymn at Sea 299\\nThe Pilgrim s Return 299\\nA Voice from the Dying 300\\nThe First Day of the New Life 301\\nConversion 302\\nGather the Roses 303\\nDesiring to be with Christ 304\\nMissionary Hymn 304\\nIn all the Countless Orbs 305\\nThe Latter Day Glory 306\\nIf there e er Was a Time 307\\nGod s Glory in Creation 308\\nEncouragement 309\\nDay of Judgment 309\\nThink not that the Blest 310\\nResurrection of the Saints 311\\nRemembrance in Prayer 311\\nThe Passing of Jordan 312\\nThe Last Song 313", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0018.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "THE\\nDOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS OFFERING.\\nPART FIRST,\\nTHE DOMESTIC OFFERING.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0019.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0020.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "THE\\nDOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS OFFERING.\\nReflections on the New Year.\\nI.\\nHeld in their path of glory by the hand,\\nThat reared all nature s bright and wondrous frame,\\nThat made the sky, the ocean, and the land,\\nAnd all that dwell therein, whate er their name\\nHeld by that wondrous hand of might and power,\\nThe distant stars their steady course have run,\\nThe moon hath watched in her aerial tower,\\nAlong his annual round hath march d the sun,\\nUntil his task once more, his Zodiac race, is done.\\nn.\\nYes Time s unwearied course hath borne us on\\nSuccessively the rapid seasons passed\\nAnother twelve month s space is come and gone.\\nAnd a New Year upon the world is cast.\\nTime s noiseless wheel rolls on, and, oh how fast\\nT is like the tide that rushes to the sea;\\nUncounted things are on it at the last.\\nThose of the earth shall perish, cease to be.\\nBut souls, a spark of heaven, go to eternity.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0021.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "10 REFLECTIONS ON THE NEW YEAR.\\nIII.\\nThe earth, stiil subject to its ancient curse,\\nHath felt its storms, and shook with thunders dread,\\nAnd Death, to make its bosom populous,\\nHath smitten down full many a weary head.\\nThe young, the man of scattered locks and gray,\\nAll ages to the grave s cold rest have gone,\\nThe dwelling-place of silence and decay.\\nThere dwells the worm the serpent feeds upon\\nThe soulless mass deformed, and twines the skeleton bone.\\nIV.\\nThe living, too, whose bosoms erst did beat\\nWith promise high and unabated joy,\\nHow many now in gloomy sorrow sit.\\nAnd constant woes their life and hopes annoy 1\\nHow many in the course of one short year.\\nWho love received, and love as warmly gave,\\nNow shed o er sundered ties the burning tear 1\\nAlas earth s ties are often like the wave,\\nThat brightly clasps the shore, then breaks, and seeks\\nV.\\nSee here a mother mourning o er her son\\nHow desolate her soul And seated there,\\nWith countenance of deeper grief, is one.\\nNew robed in widow s weeds. Into thin air\\nAnd blackness terrible hath sunk their light.\\nOh happy they, when joys terrestrial fade.\\nWho rest on God s right arm and changeless might.\\nThere s nothing firm of all things that are made,\\nBut life shall wane to death, and substance change to shade.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0022.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "REFLECTIONS ON THE NEW YEAR. U\\nVI.\\nYes, there s a spirit of change in all things round,\\nWhich shows itself, as year on year goes by\\nWhich at the last shall sink the solid ground,\\nNor spare the brighter fabric of the sky\\nBoth heaven and earth shall be one cemetry.\\nDown from their home of light the stars shall fall,\\nThe blaze, that lights the solar pathway, die,\\nWhile clouds and flame shall wrap this earthly ball;\\nIts wither d pomp depart, and fade its glory all,\\nVII.\\nBoast not, because these things have never been,\\nFor we shall see them, though we see not now.\\nWhen rolls through heaven the final trumpet s din.\\nAnd lightnings bind the seventh angel s brow.\\nThen months and New Years shall be o er. Ah, how\\nThat final trump shall rock the land and sea\\nThen shall the proud, majestic mountains bow,\\nThe islands and the continents shall flee,\\nThe solid earth go down, and time no more shall be.\\nVIII.\\nThe years of earth shall pass but heavenly years\\nShall start upon their endless destiny.\\nThe joys of earth shall perish but no tears\\nShall dim the brightness of the joys on high.\\nThe scenes and things below shall fade away;\\nThe brighter scenes of heaven shall be the same,\\nWithout a blighting touch, without decay\\nAnd all her hosts, in one sublime acclaim,\\nShall pour their transports high, and shout the Saviour s\\nname.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0023.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "12 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nDays of Youth.\\nPART FIRST.\\nContents. Introduction. Cowper on seeing the portrait of his\\nmother. Recollections of maternal love and care. A scene in\\nthe nursery. The schoolmistress. Saturday afternoon. Field\\nsports. The oaken grove. The imprisoned robins. The bower.\\nA scene in Autumn. Thanksgiving day. The Farmer. Re-\\nflections. The river Cocheco. Old Richards, the miller. River\\nsports. The solitary Grandam. The story of Lucy Wilson.\\nThe Conclusion.\\nWhen fearless seamen spread the journeying sail,\\nAnd bear away beneath the welcome gale,\\nTo brave, o er ocean s waste, with hardy form,\\nThe smiting sun, the billow, and the storm,\\nThough firm their courage, oft their hearts they find\\nFilled with the thoughts of those they left behind\\nAnd, as ihe ocean widens, turn their eye,\\nTo catch once more their native hills and sky.\\nWhere er they go, whatever climes they roam.\\nThey fondly think of country, friends, and home\\nRepeating in each mess-mate s listening ear,\\nHow maids and matrons shed the parting tear.\\nAnd in the visions of the night review\\nThe cherished scenes, where many a joy they knew.\\nRemembrance thus in life s decline endears\\nThe home, and scenes, and sports of earlier years\\nBack o er the tide of time we cast our eye,\\nAnd neath its gaze enchanted regions lie", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0024.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 13\\nWe see once more, with fondness unexpressed,\\nThe light of early days, and call them blessed.\\nSweet days When life was undisturbed by care,\\nAnd busy hope made every vision fair\\nWhen, passing swiftly by, the frolic hours\\nWelcomed and crowned each scene with songs and flowers\\nYes That blest Power, which hath the art to bring\\nDeparted joys and visions on its wing.\\nShall from oblivion s mist their beam restore,\\nEach faded line and tint repair once more,\\nAnd giving to them form, and life, and truth,\\nHold up to Age the mirror of its Youth.\\nT was thus, when storms had gathered on his way,\\nAnd hope and pleasure dimmed their feeble ray,\\nHis swimming gaze the gentle Cowper bent\\nUpon his mother s pictured lineament.\\nAs late in life into his hands it came,\\nWith lips and smile, as when she lived, the same.*\\nHis vigils o er the portrait long he kept.\\nAnd, as he viewed it, thought, remembered, wept\\nFor Fancy, quickened by his feelings strife.\\nBrought that dear mother s form and love to life.\\nRevealed her kindness in the days gone by.\\nWhich shielded, and which blessed his infancy\\nHer nightly visits to his chamber made,\\nThat she might see him safe and warmly laid\\nThe fond solicitude, that saw him wrapped\\nIn scarlet mantle, warm, and velvet-capped,\\nSee the beautiful poem of Cowper on the receipt of his mother s picture from\\nNorfolk, beginning,\\nOh, that those lips had language Life hath passed\\nWith me but roughly since I saw thee last.\\n1*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0025.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "14 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nAnd with the gardener Robin, day by day,\\nSent him to school along the public way.\\nI too admit a mother s sacred claim,\\nI too would consecrate that matchless name,\\nAnd like the bard of Olney strive to pay\\nThe grateful honors of my humble lay.\\nHow oft the picture rises to my view,\\nFresh as at first its hues, distinct, and true\\nHow oft, in solitude s creative hour.\\nWhen thought and feeling own a quickened power,\\nI sit in pensive silence and retrace\\nEach well known feature, each attractive grace;\\nHer silent grief, when those she loved went wrong,\\nHer smile, her kindly words, her voice of song\\nAll else may fail, all other joys may die.\\nAnd leave the fount of hope and feeling dry,\\nBut life nor death shall from my bosom tear\\nA mother s looks, her kindness, and her care\\nThat care, which further back than memory goes.\\nHeightened my early joys, or soothed my woes.\\nWhen life was new, and scarce my infant sight\\nWith a strange joy had opened on the light.\\nShe watched my cradle, wiped the starting tear,\\nAnd soothed with mellowed song my infant ear.\\nThere, as she sat, in Fancy s forming eye,\\nThe doubtful future passed in vision by.\\nThat sometimes cast its brightness o er my way,\\nBut oftener veiled in clouds the fivoring ray.\\nAnd then, alarmed with all a mother s fears.\\nShe looked to Him, a mother s voice that hears,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0026.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 15\\nAnd prayed, with faith and feeling unrepressed,\\nThat He, who stills the raven s hungry nest.\\nThat He, who knows, and who alone can know\\nThe sins and sorrows of this world of woe,\\nWould guide her child in life s uncertain way,\\nNor let temptation lead his steps astray.\\nSoon as my infant footsteps dared explore,\\n(No trifling journey then,) the nursery floor,\\nShe reached her hand, and standing constant by,\\nMy progress watched with fond and curious eye\\nAnd when at last I reached the destined goal,\\nNor could but laugh aloud with joy of soul.\\nShe shared my triumphs, and bent down to bless\\nMy joyous brow with many a warm caress.\\nThat care, it knew no bound that love, no end\\nWhere er I went, her guardian steps attend.\\nTill in my crimson frock, and bonnet fine.\\nWhere the first gathered rose was taught to shine.\\nThoughtless, my way to yonder school I take.\\nLoaded with kisses, (what was more,) with cake.\\nAnd thou, the Mistress of our little school.\\nFor age revered, and wisely skilled to rule.\\nFrom whom our minds their infant knowledge drew^\\nAs flowers from vernal skies imbibe the dew.\\nThough many years have passed since then, art not\\nBy all thy little company forgot\\nStill on our hearts thy virtues have a claim.\\nStill dwells upon our tongues thine honored name.\\nWhen we began, in learned order set\\nWith eye and finger on the Alphabet,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0027.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "16 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nThe task, (a mighty task it seemed to be,)\\nTo search the mysteries of A, B, C,\\nWe heard the changeless law, that not a look\\nShould leave the pages of the Spelling Book;\\nThat none the seat assigned him should forsake,\\nThat none with whispers should the silence break\\nNor was it last or smallest in the code,\\nWhich ruled the realm of learning s young abode,\\nThat none should turn his luckless head awry,\\nTo watch a spider, or impound a fly.\\nEnthroned upon her ancient elbow chair,\\nShe swayed her sceptre, and dispensed her care\\nShe praised the boy, whose time was rightly spent,\\nBut woe to him on whom her frown was bent\\nWho dared her awful word to disobey.\\nAnd what was meant for science give to play.\\nThrice hapless he, who tumbling sprawled the floor.\\nOr sought with truant step the tempting door,\\nOr, reckless of the pain and bitter tear,\\nA bodkin thrust into his neighbor s ear.\\nAh me The wrinkles curled upon thy face.\\nThine eye flashed fire, and threatnings came apace\\nWrath shook thy cap more frightful than thy nod.\\nThine arm uplifted, waved the birchen rod.\\nWhen time had flown, and consecrate to play.\\nArrived at last the joyous Saturday,\\nForth from the School with leap and shout we went,\\nWith youth inspired, on youthful pleasures bent\\nThe favored space, which once a week could bless\\nWith freedom from our learned Governess.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0028.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 17\\nNo longer subjects of her sovereign law,\\nWhose word controled, whose ferule struck with awe,\\nIn various ways, for various ends we part,\\nJoy on our lips, and transport in our heart\\nWe heard no more her tongue, nor feared her look,\\nNor o er our heads the rod of terror shook.\\nLo o er the fields with eager hand and eye.\\nSome chase from flower to flower the butterfly\\nOr, shouting with the sharers in their play.\\nThe rapid hoop drive o^er the traveled way\\nWhile others near the brook apply their skill,\\nWatching the workings of their mimic mill,\\nOr teach the kite high in the air to fly.\\nAnd sweep the bosom of the boundless sky.\\nSome sought the woods that distant caught the view,\\nOr ranged with eager steps the vallies through\\nSome gathered flowers, and the bright wreath prepare\\nTo weave into their young Narcissa s hair.\\nWhile others climbed with fearless feet the hill,\\nLight as the winds, and wanderers at will\\nBut chiefly loved our merry band to rove\\nWhere echoes answered from the Oaken Grove.\\nDear to my heart by strong unnumbered ties,\\nBy fond delights and best remembrances.\\nThose ancient Oaks, with leaf and acorn crowned,\\nThat o er my father s rugged acres frowned\\nSee, how aloft, in kingly pride they bear\\nTheir massy trunks and twisted arms in air.\\nStill changeless in their strength and giant form,\\nBy suns unwithered, moveless in the storm.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0029.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "18\\nDAYS OF YOUTH.\\nBeneath those arms, that venerable shade\\nOften my lingering footsteps have delayed,\\nWhen early Spring, in budding beauty gay,\\nAwoke my heart, and smiled its cares away.\\nIn Summer, too, that poured its sultry blaze.\\nWhen flocks and herds sunk panting in its rays,\\nI breathed the freshness of the cooling air.\\nThat nestled in the leaves and lingered there.\\nBut chiefly, when the sober Autumn came.\\nWith languid suns, that gave their feeble flame,\\nAnd sighing winds, with rude invasion, shook\\nThe clustering acorns from their leafy nook,\\nI hastened forth, and with delighted toil,\\nCollected at their feet the fallen spoil.\\nNor was this all. Still other ties invite.\\nWhere o er our heads their knotted arms unite.\\nTwas there, in early spring, the birds with care\\nTheir nests composed of gathered sticks and hair\\nT was there I watched them fly from spray to spray,\\nOr capture in the air their insect prey\\nT was there, from branch to branch, their tuneful throat\\nPoured forth the music of its sylvan note.\\nAnd seated on some rock, I bent mine ear,\\nThe tribute of their warbled song to hear.\\nPleased with their chirp, bright eye, and speckled breast,\\nOne day I took two robins from their nest.\\nAnd placed them in a cage. Upon a tree\\nI hung the cage, and they sung mournfully.\\nAnd hopped from side to side, as if they still\\nWere thinking of their native wood and hill", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0030.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 19\\nWhen, lo, the mother to their prison flew,\\nAnd fed her young, as she was used to do,\\nPlacing a worm within their beaks, and then\\nShe lit upon a branch, and poured her strain,\\nAs if to sooth their sorrows. Thus she came,\\nAnd daily fed them, daily sung the same.\\nA thought at last rose in my childish heart\\nIt seemed to charge me with a cruel part\\nIf I were in a prison, what would be\\nMy mother s thoughts, my mother s griefs for me\\nShe, too, would come, would feed me, and would sing,\\nAnd try all arts, some joy, some hope to bring\\nTo her poor boy. And oh, if I were free,\\nHow would she triumph in my liberty\\nI wept, and not a reason needed more,\\nBut went at once, and oped the wiry door\\nThe little birds hopped from the open cage,\\nAnd soaring on their airy pilgrimage.\\nPoured forth their song to rocks and trees around,\\nTill rocks and trees their warbled joys resound.\\nIn those young days, when Summer in its gleam\\nBeckoned us forth to hill, and wood, and stream;\\nWhen, swinging on its branch, the little bird\\nPlumed its blue wing, and made its carol heard,\\nDown in the valley by the river s side.\\nWe built the Bower, and graced its arch of pride.\\nFair hands were busy, bloom and branch to bring,\\nAnd all were present with their offering.\\nSome lent their skill high in its top to twine\\nThe fragrant fern, the rose, the large-leafed vine\\nSome gathered leaves and flowers, and o er the ground,\\nAnd sidelong benches, strewed their treasures round.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0031.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "20 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nThe joyous stream bestowed its hoarse applause,\\nTo cheer our ardor in the mutual cause,\\nUrging its curling wave with graceful sweep\\nMid elms and vines, that clothed the valley deep.\\nOur hearts were one the breath of worldly fame\\nHad not yet blown our passions to a flame;\\nAnd envy was not felt. Each strove to be\\nA source of joy, and not of misery;\\nWe saw no future ills, all griefs forgot,\\nBlessing and blest, we would not change our lot.\\nThere faithful hands were clasped, there songs arose,\\nTill sober evening bade our pastimes close.\\nThat summer eve is passed The summer s bloom\\nNo longer yields its beauty and perfume.\\nThe joyous birds are gone there nests are bare,\\nHanging in leafless branches in the air.\\nHow changed is all around The Autum s gale\\nBreathes from the moaning wood its joyless wail\\nThe cattle, shivering in the fenceless fields,\\nNibble the poor repast the stubble yields\\nThe bleating sheep complain the flocks of crows,\\nCawing aloud, forbode impending snows.\\nBut though the day be cheerless, none the less\\nIt comes to gladden, harmonize, and bless.\\nThe day, when huts and cottages shall hold\\nAs much of bliss as if they gleamed with gold\\nThanksgiving day, which, ere the year shall part,\\nReturns to sooth the farmer s generous heart.\\nFull well I knew him. Often when a boy.\\nThe Farmer hailed me with a boisterous joy,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0032.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 21\\nAsked how I fared, and took me by the hand,\\nAnd kindly led me o er his well-tilled land.\\nAnd showed his bleating sheep and lowing kine,\\nPride of the master s eyes, and joy of mine.\\nTo him, good man, Thanksgiving day ne er came,\\nWithout a full observance of its claim\\nFor whether much or small he had to spare,\\nHe had enough to give the poor a share,\\nWho constant came, and never failed to meet\\nThe ready greeting, and the welcome seat.\\nHis decent home was on a rising place.\\nWhere nature showed her strength, but not her grace\\nAnd yet that rugged height the pear-tree crowned,\\nAnd scattered beeches closed the mansion round.\\nHis garden gave its treasures not in vain\\nFrom ripened fields he drove his autumn wain\\nHuge stands his table fruits and pies appear\\nThe choicest products of the teeming year\\nGathered around his loaded board, he sees\\nHis sturdy sons, his daughters formed to please,\\nWho, while the brothers felled the forest s bloom,\\nControlled, with busy hand, the noisy loom\\nSusan, and Dick, and John, and dark-eyed Bess;\\nProud heaves his heart with conscious happiness.\\nHappy are those, whose hand and heart of fire\\nNature hath framed to rule the tuneful lyre\\nWhose souls can feel, whose powers of verse can tell\\nThe deep emotions in their hearts that swell.\\nAlas for me Such praise I cannot claim,\\nNo epic heights resound my humble name\\n2", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0033.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "22 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nI do not ask the noisy world to hear,\\nI do not seek the trained and courtly ear\\nThe budding wreath, which they may bind, shall be\\nThe light for other brows, but not for me.\\nBut I will sit upon my native plain,\\nAnd tune my pipe, and call the rustic train,\\nTheir lowly toils repeat, their griefs reveal.\\nAnd tell the joys, which such alone can feel\\nAnd, where Cocheco gently winds along.\\nRenew to woods and rocks my rural song.\\nCocheco s River Fitter strains should sing,\\nThan my poor note, thy gentle murmuring.\\nWhispered through nodding birch and elm-trees hoar\\nTill down opposing rocks thy waters roar.\\nIf Burns were here, he would describe thee fair,\\nAs blooming Doon and bonny banks of Ayr\\nIn simple verse would tell the mingled charm\\nOf woods and stream and cultivated farm,\\nOf birds rejoicing in their leafy bowers.\\nOf bees, that hum around the breathing flowers,\\nAnd many a cottage on thy banks should gain\\nThe heartfelt homage of his touching strain.\\nRoll on, ffiir River Yield your torrents still,\\nAnd turn, with vigorous sweep, Old Richard s mill.\\nWhile others sing the men and deeds of fame.\\nBe ours to consecrate Old Richard s name.\\nFor oft the aged miller at his hearth\\nDetained our boyish troop with well-timed mirth\\nTold us strange tales, nor waited to be pressed\\nLaughing old man He loved the tale and jest.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0034.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 23\\nStrong was his arm, and while the mill went round,\\nHe hooped his pails and tubs with clattering sound.\\nHis long grey coat with dust was thick beset.\\nHis broad-brim hat was hat and epaulet.\\nNor was he all for jesting. In a trice\\nHe sober grew, and gave us sage advice\\nWith shake of head and keen, emphatic eye,\\nDescanting loud on truth and honesty.\\nBut baffled oft to make his audience hear.\\nWhen wheels and tubs and hammer claimed the ear.\\nHe raised his voice, and with its accents shrill,\\nDefied the deaf ning clamor of his mill.\\nLoved waters Oft we spent the rapid hours\\nUpon thy waves, and in thy leafy bowers\\nAnd they were hours of quietude and bliss\\nNo cloud of sorrow dimmed our happiness.\\nSee On thy banks, where cautiously and slow\\nThe thirsty steer stoops to the wave below,\\nThe noisy group at idle length recline.\\nWhile others aim the spear or wield the line.\\nSee In thy waves the daring band divide\\nWith skillful arm thine unresisting tide\\nOr guide with slender sail their dancing boat.\\nAnd proudly o er thy gentle waters float.\\nBright was thy summer s sun, and sweet the breeze,\\nThat chased the fragrance from thy clustered trees\\nGreen waved thine elms, with massy arms and strong\\nLoud from the alders burst the black-bird s song;\\nWhile thrush and red-breast from the meadows gay.\\nIn merry groups, proclaimed their rival lay.\\nAnd e en, when chill and frozen winter came.\\nAround thy banks we gathered still the same", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0035.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "24 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nThe rapid sled directed down the hill,\\nWhose snowy brow o er-topped the noisy mill,\\nOr made the polished ice, thy waves that bound,\\nWith trampling feet and ringing skates resound.\\nStream of the mossy rock and sheltering tree\\nUnknown to fame, but not unknown to me.\\nThought, retrospective, fondly lingers o er\\nThe cliffs, the woods, the vallies of thy shore.\\nYe pensive haunts, to recollection dear\\nOne picture yet I cannot leave you here\\nFor e en the dwellers of your vale and hill\\nFind mingled, in their cup of joy, its ill\\nAnd while they speak of bliss, their griefs at times\\nAre breathed in simple melancholy rhymes.\\nUpon thy rugged banks there lived alone\\nAn aged woman to the world unknown.\\nShe, hapless one, was sadly taught to know\\nHow frail are fairest prospects here below\\nHow, in the time of bitterness and need,\\nAll human help is but a broken reed.\\nTime was when she had friends but that was past.\\nAnd all her griefs on higher aid were cast.\\nWretched her hovel all her art and care\\nCould scarce exclude the rain and searching air.\\nShe had a chair, a table, and a bed.\\nAnd some poor things for making tea and bread.\\nDaily she ranged each shady solitude.\\nTo gather withered leaves and sticks of wood,\\nTo heap her lonely hearth. When gleaming high\\nThe stars were summoned to the evening sky,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0036.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 25\\nBeside her frugal fire, her hours were given\\nTo humble toil and fitting thoughts of heaven.\\nNot seldom to that grandam s hut we drew,\\nWhen sable evening clothed the hills from view\\nShe stopped the wheel, that twined her flaxen thread,\\nShe closed the Bible, whence she nightly read,\\nAnd from the fruitful fount of former years\\nRevealed the tale of sadness to our ears.\\nT was long ago, she said in that rude time.\\nWhen first our fathers came from England s clime\\nWhen households, in our frontier town, were few,\\nAnd close and dark the forest round them grew.\\nWith busy hands the farmers cleared away\\nThe tangled woods, and oped them to the day\\nThey had no time in idleness to spare.\\nBut built their barns, the guarded house prepare\\nOld men and young alike engaged in toil,\\nWith spade and plough to quell the rugged soil\\nThe maids obeyed the busy housewife s call,\\nAnd Lucy Wilson gained the prize from all.\\nThe neighbors marked her ever cheerful face.\\nThe magic of her voice, her movement s grace\\nAnd with a glow of pride told o er and o er\\nHer kindness to her parents old and poor.\\nLike Lucy Wilson none, they said, could spin,\\nAnd none like her could keep their cottage clean\\nNone listened on the holy Sabbath day.\\nWith heart so fervent with devotion s ray\\nNone had such kindly looks and cheerfulness\\nIn disappointment, labor, and distress.\\nPrompt to her daily toil with morning s gleam,\\nNor slack in duty with day s latest beam.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0037.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "26 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nOne morn she went out with her milking pail,\\nAnd the same song, that oft had cheered the vale\\nIt was a summer s morn the earliest beam\\nWas scarce restored to tinted wood and stream\\nAnd as she passed, her brightly floating hair\\nWaved to the welcome of the joyful air.\\nT was the last time for fiercely raging war\\nHad drawn the savage from his haunts afar\\nMen of hard heart and unrelenting eye.\\nUnmoved by beauty and by sympathy\\nAnd with that license cruel strife hath given.\\nTheir spears they hurled, and Lucy went to heaven.\\nSuch were the words that claimed the starting tear\\nBut other listeners now that story hear.\\nYes, THERE ARE OTHERS NOW. lu Faucy s eye\\nI see them, as I saw in times gone by.\\nWith eager gaze, on the long winter night,\\nThey gather round the hearth s reviving light,\\nTo hear the Grandam. At her wheel she sits,\\nAnd rallies at their call her aged wits.\\nAnd when bright spring has visited the vale.\\nWith bud and flowret nodding in the gale,\\nOr summer scatters from her matron hand\\nPlenty with beauty o er the smiling land.\\nAnd boys and girls these new enjoyments share,\\nT is not the group that came, when I was there.\\nBut I 11 rejoice, nor let my heart repine.\\nThat youthful hopes and joys no more are mine.\\nAnd only pray, when bliss with them is o er,\\nAnd they, like me, shall taste those joys no more.\\nThat gratitude may linger to the last,\\nTo consecrate the pleasures that are past.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0038.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 27\\nDays of Youth.\\nPART SECOND.\\nContents. Introduction. An excursion in the fields. Poor Will\\nthe beggar. The Pedlar s annual visit. Youthful military ex-\\nercises. Reflections. The Farmer s return at evening from his\\nfields. The husking with its legends and songs. The blind\\nMu ician. The evening visit of the Huntsman. Melancholy\\nreflections. Character and death of a Schoolmate. Eeminis-\\nccnces of a sister who died in infancy. Eeligious reflections.\\nThe village Pastor. The gift of a Bible from my Mother. De-\\nparture from Home.\\nAlas, how ceaseless is life s silent tide\\nHow rapidly its onward waters glide\\nNot meads nor flowers, that crown its liquid way.\\nCan check its course, and tempt its floods to stay.\\nFair blows the wind, and all my sails are set,\\nThe last blue wave heaves not its bosom yet\\nPleasant companions and bright waves I find,\\nBut still I cast the lingering look behind.\\nMy busy spirit fails not to retrace\\nEach house, and haunt, and oft remembered face\\nThe rugged rock, the hill, the shaded plain.\\nOnce more I tread with youthful feet again,\\nAnd in Imagination s eye review\\nEach scene that cheered me, when my life was new.\\nNor is it strange; it thus hath always been,\\nAnd thus will always be, while men are men.\\nNo change of place, companionship, or state,\\nThe heart from its first loves can separate", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0039.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "28 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nUnbribed by joys, which have a foreign birth,\\nIt claims, unchanged, its own, its natal earth.\\nSee, how aloft, with struggling step and slow,\\nThe daring Switzer climbs his heights of snow.\\nWhile o er the mountain s brow the chilling storm.\\nWith stern invasion, smites his youthful form\\nGo, take him thence, and place within his hand\\nThe gifts and pleasures of some happier land.\\nBid o er his head Italia s summers glow.\\nHer breezes fan, her flowers around him blow\\nYou do not pluck his memory from its seat.\\nYou do not, cannot make his soul forget\\nHis father s form is present to his mind.\\nHis mother s look, that ever beamed so kind\\nHis much loved sister s voice he seems to hear.\\nThe Ranz des Vaches* invades his startled ear;\\nAnd often will he think, and often sigh\\nFor his own mountain hearth and stormy sky.\\nWhere, in yon field, my father used to keep.\\nPride of his little farm, his flock of sheep.\\nWhere bright-eyed birds in birch and maple sing,\\nFrom branch to branch with gaily glancing wing,\\nA joyous group of the same heart and age.\\nWe took our predatory pilgrimage.\\nBright was the sun, and balmy was the air.\\nAnd life, and buoyant health, and youth were there\\nThe squirrel, in his old, fantastic tree.\\nChirped forth his welcome loud and merrily\\nAnd mellow autumn, in his treasures dressed.\\nWaved o er the land, to tempt and make us blessed.\\nOne of the simple and affecting airs sung in Switzerland.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0040.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 29\\nWith one triumphant leap we passed the brook,\\nCast on the barren beech a wishful look,\\nExplored the ripened walnut bough, and then\\nRushed loud and joyous down the hazel glen,\\nAnd where the apples reddened in the sun.\\nClimbed to the topmost branch, and treasures won.\\nNot distant far, shut from the public eye,\\nSave when he wandered forth for charity.\\nThe tenant of a hut, which seemed to be\\nAs shattered, rent, and beggarly as he.\\nThere lived, (and oft we called to see him there.\\nSupported in his rude, capacious chair,)\\nPoor Will the beggar, miserably old.\\nWith hunger pinched, and shivering with the cold.\\nI name him here, for he too has a place\\nAmong the forms, that fancy loves to trace\\nAnd I should do my heart and memory wrong.\\nWere I, unnamed, to pass him in my song.\\nSometimes, when birds with music hailed the morn.\\nAnd round his pathway waved the yellow corn.\\nWith vacant eye, and with uncertain feet.\\nHe groped his way into the public street.\\nOne day I marked him at the rich man s gate,\\nJust in the attitude his wants to state.\\nHis locks were gray, and cautiously he pressed,\\nUpon the faithful staff, his bending breast\\nHis hat he reached abroad with trembling hand.\\nAnd few his meek petitions could withstand.\\nThe village lads, who knew him, stopped their play,\\nTo mark his rags, and hear what he would say.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0041.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "30 DAYS or YOUTH.\\nIIo ojoiilly (\\\\VOs ilicni, as tlioy Wock arouiul.\\nAnd for racli coiit halfhonds liim to tlio ground.\\nHis tatliMod irarnuMits and his ioohlc iVaino\\nThe irroatness of liis ao;o and wants j)roclaim;\\nAnd somo, wlio know no pity, pause to see\\nHis irralofnl hows and sad civility.\\nFarowoll, \\\\HHn AVill M one accord wo part.\\nAnd ni^\\\\t arc met around the Pedhir s cart.\\nHe, honest ukiu, with whijt o er shouhler hiced,\\nIlls \\\\ouvr, intiMiuiuai\u00c2\u00bbK jtMiruey traced.\\nO er mud and (hy, t er hiUock and o er phiin,\\nIn niiUl and stt rui, in suusliiiu an(1 in rain.\\nIlark How his waooii thnuiKMs! What a sound\\nHis pails and pans and dippers scatter round\\nThus doth he couu\\\\ as punctual as tlie year,\\nWith kuowiuo- look and stranoely various gear.\\nConihs, rihhons, knives, and ptH ket-books he had,\\nTo grace the lass, and please the country lad.\\nWith rattles, drums, and jews-harps lor the boys,\\nWhate er could please the eye, or make a noise.\\nHis little b( oks he carefully displayed.\\nThe Chihheii of the \\\\Vood. to death betrayed;\\nJohn Gilpin and his famous turu} ike race,\\nTlie tales of Robin Hood and Chevy Chase.\\nTo passers by. (no shame-faced youth was he,)\\nHe gave the nod, and calleil out merrily.\\nWhatever others sold, or had in store.\\nHe always boasted, he could show us more\\nPerched high upon his rusty cart, the same,\\nWith which from iunnemorial time he came,\\nWith pie-bald horse, the rusty cart that drew,\\nAnd like his master all the country knew.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0042.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 31\\nNor when our pastimes, pleasures, feats we name,\\nShould we forget the military flame\\nAlas When it should be rebuked, controlled, repressed,\\nToo early kindled in the youthful breast.\\nSee through the streets the young militia come\\nList to the screaming fife, the rattling drum\\nSee how they move with martial head erect,\\nAnd wooden guns, their country to protect\\nMany a gallant boy with matchless soul\\nGave in his name to swell the muster-roll\\nFree waved our kerchief banner high and proud\\nOft flamed our tiny cannon pealing loud\\nWhile hats and smoke in upward whirls aspire\\nThe overflow of freedom s generous fire.\\nHow blessed t would be, if armies in array,\\nWith sword and battle-axe, were children s play,\\nAnd, as they marched with banners up and down,\\nServed but to please themselves, or please the town,\\nAnd while they thus amused the eye and ear,\\nDrew down no widow s cheek the burning tear.\\nRaised in no orphan s breast the bitter sigh\\nO er distant friends, that fall, and bleedj and die.\\nBut see The leaf is yellow on the hill\\nThe birds are few, the moaning winds are chill\\nThe Autumn suns diffuse their transient beam\\nAnd from the plains returns the loaded team.\\nThere had the farmer toiled from early morn,\\nAnd plucked with busy hand the full-eared corn.\\nBlest in his fruits, his cattle, and his sheaves,\\nWith shouldered hoe and axe, his field he leaves", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0043.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "32\\nDAYS OF YOUTH.\\nWell-pleased, his boy is trudging at his side,\\nA sharer in the father s joy and pride.\\nWeary, but patient, he erects his goad,\\nAnd homeward urges fast the rustling load\\nWhile o er the hills the setting sun-beam glows,\\nAnd leaves the world to shadows and repose.\\nHope of the land, ye farmers, who can bring\\nHeaps from the soil ye sowed in early spring,\\nYour labors well demand the poet s lays,\\nToo oft on subjects spent less worthy praise.\\nAround the hearth, that brightly beams the while,\\nOf newly-gathered corn ascends the pile\\nAround that pile, with cheerful voices loud,\\nGather, on Autumn nights, the husking crowd.\\nThe neighbors come with joyous heart and face.\\nTheir Rural Festival to cheer and grace.\\nTo yield their sympathy, their aid to yield\\nTo those, who, like themselves, subdue the field\\nAnd while with busy hand their task they ply,\\nAnd with their labors cheer the master s eye,\\nWho marks the love that crowns the closing year.\\nIn baskets brightening with the golden ear.\\nTraditionary tales the hours employ.\\nOld hearts are glad, and young ones heave with joy.\\nHigh rose the song, thrilled forth by many a tongue\\nT was rude in measure, and t was rudely sung\\nIt told the daring deeds of Robin Hood,\\nDone in the starless night and pathless wood,\\nWho trained his bloody band, his bow who bent.\\nWhere Sherwood s forests crown the sylvan Trent.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0044.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 33\\nAnd then there came (it always had a place,)\\nThe spirit-stirring strain of Chevy Chase\\nAnd while we hear, before our mental eyes\\nMen, steeds, and spears, and bloody fields arise.\\nThere goes Earl Douglas, like a Baron bold.\\nWith milk-white steed, and armor bright as gold\\nThere doth earl Percy not less boldly ride,\\nWith fifteen hundred English at his side\\nAnd Hugh Montgomery throws his dreadful spear\\nThen first we wondering heard, and wept to hear.\\nThus many an ancient tale and many a song,\\nThe scene of bliss and hour of joy prolong.\\nAt that united, friendly, festal hour,\\nThe Old Blind Fiddler oft displayed his power.\\nHe traveled through the country up and down.\\nTalk of the cottage, wonder of the town;\\nWhere er he went, he never lingered long.\\nAnd always made his welcome with his song.\\nHis darkened eye saw not the brilliant day.\\nBut in his soul shone friendship s genial ray\\nHe showed a minstrel s heart, a minstrel s skill,\\nAnd ruled both swains and maidens at his will.\\nIn fancy still I see him proudly bear\\nHis sooty face, and jet-black curly hair\\nOne foot he forward pressed, and neath his chin,\\nWith head drawn back, he placed his violin\\nAnd as we praised his skill, and closing round,\\nExclaimed, impatient for the magic sound.\\nHe poured at times the brisk and lively strain,\\nAnd then it slow and serious grew again.\\n3", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0045.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "34 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nAt times he hit the stern and martial air,\\nAnd then struck something that would please the fair\\nAnd as with practised hand he drew the bow,\\nAnd strains divine around the circle flow,\\nHe rolled his sightless eye from place to place.\\nAnd bowed and smiled with self-complacent grace.\\nThat strain is o er but joy waits not to borrow\\nThe ray, that gilds it, from the beaming morrow\\nT is dark without the hearth still shining bright,\\nRelumes our walls, and fills our hearts with light\\nAround its cheerful blaze we linger near^\\nAnd to some native legend lend the ear.\\nThe huntsman from Seogee s* mimic sea,\\nOr recent from the mount-crowned Ossipee,\\nOr farther still, where the White Mountains swell\\nVast and majestic, had his tale to tell.\\nFull wondrous was the theme, and strange to hear,\\nOf game entrapped, or slain with gun and spear,\\nOf hair-breath scapes upon the stormy lake,\\nOf Indian, starting from the secret brake,\\nOf whirlwinds bearing desolalion wide,\\nOf trees self-moved, hurled down the mountain side.\\nOf toils by day, of short and dangerous sleep,\\nScared by the wolves, their vigils near that keep.\\nSuch were the scenes, that gave my early days\\nTheir nameless charm, which round them still delays\\nSuch were the hours, in recollection blest,\\nThat poured their pleasures o er my youthful breast\\nAn abridged expression for Winnepisiogee, a beautiful lake in New Hamp-\\nshire. Ossipee, is the name of another lake in the same region.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0046.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 35\\nBlest in themselves, but rendered doubly dear,\\nFor those who loved me, those I loved, were near\\nWho, with their hearts in looks and actions shown,\\nMade all my griefs, and all my joys their own.\\nFriends of my Youth I often think of you.\\nSad was the hour, which saw the long adieu.\\nCompanions dear Ye yet shall have a part,\\nA place of refuge, in my inmost heart.\\nTill once again, with happiness complete,\\nBrought face to face, and soul to soul, we meet.\\nBut this, alas, with some shall never be,\\nWho loved, with open arms, to welcome me.\\nRelentless Death, that spares nor friend nor foe,\\nHath touched them in their bloom, and laid them low.\\nYes they are gone but dead to outward sight.\\nThey live, unchanged, in Memory s fadeless light.\\nMark how the churchyard yews and elms enclose\\nTheir narrow beds, and guard their deep repose.\\nGreen is their turf, and scattered flowers have grown\\nAbove the moveless heart, the mouldering bone\\nAnd those, who loved them, when the setting day\\nTinges the mountain with its farewell ray.\\nAround their dust with pious tears renew\\nThe rites and honors, to their virtues due.\\nYonder there sleeps a youth, whose promise fair\\nShone in his eye, his manners, and his air\\nA child of genius Mighty nature taught\\nBoth power and feeling to his early thought.\\nI knew him well. The same with me in age.\\nTogether we explored old Maro s page", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0047.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "36 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nBut there was that in his prophetic eye,\\nWith which no vulgar mind had sympathy.\\nHe sought, when oped the morning s purple dawn,\\nThe breezy hill and solitary lawn.\\nBut loved at eve the stream, or forest s gloom.\\nOr pensive paused beside the sculptured tomb\\nWell known to talking age, and many a time\\nHe sat and heard their legendary rhyme,\\nFor other times, and deeds with ages dim,\\nForgot by most, had secret charms for him.\\nBut he is gone and I am left alone,\\nGone, like the flower, in early summer mown\\nThat poet s eye is dim the sod is pressed\\nColdly and sad upon his crumbling breast\\nBut long his image in the souls shall dwell\\nOf those, who knew him, those who loved him well.\\nAh, there are thoughts more sad. Above thy grave,\\nLong lost Elizabeth, the willows wave\\nThou wast my sister, but didst never frame\\nA brother s sacred and endearing name\\nToo young to know, or utter aught of me,\\nBut none the less my love encircled thee.\\nFew were thy days, and those of deep distress,\\nBut e en thy griefs were bright with loveliness.\\nReturned from school, with heart averse from play,\\nI hastened where thy suffering body lay\\nBeside thy humble cradle took my stand.\\nThy forehead kissed and held thy little hand.\\nOft didst thou feebly smile and then again\\nThy countenance confessed the bitter pain.\\nDeep to our hearts went each imploring gaze.\\nWhich oft we saw thee to thy parents raise", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0048.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 37\\nBut all in vain we wept we saw thy tears\\nDeath heeded not our watchings, griefs, and fears,\\nBut sternly quelled, regardless of thy cry,\\nThy struggling heart, and quenched thy lovely eye.\\nSister much loved Although thy days were few,\\nAnd He, who gave thee, soon that gift withdrew,\\nUnchanged, thine infant beauty is impressed\\nDeeply within the chambers of my breast\\nAnd oft, where willows guard thine early sleep,\\nI linger near, and o er thine ashes weep\\nRecall what thou wast once, what would be now,\\nIf ripened womanhood had graced thy brow,\\nAnd fondly think, when I too take my flight,\\nOnce more to meet thee in the realms of light.\\nAnd it is ever thus. Frail man shall die\\nStrength quit his limbs, and light desert his eye\\nBut there s a shore, when life s poor hour is past,\\nWhich welcomes home the wanderer at last.\\nDeserted and forlorn, a friendly hand\\nShall guide the Christian to that better land\\nNo longer doomed in earth s dim realms to stray.\\nWhere storms affright, and shadows clothe the way.\\nSee How he mounts aloft, his perils o er_,\\nWhere sin and sorrow shall be known no more\\nWhere, in the glories of that brighter sphere.\\nThe sigh is hushed, and banished every tear.\\nThus taught the village Pastor, on whose tongue,\\nDeeply attent, my youth and childhood hung,\\nAs venerable man, he loved to trace,\\nIn contrast to our woes, a Saviour s grace.\\n3*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0049.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "38 DAYS OF YOUTH.\\nI recollect him well. In yonder wood,\\nShut from the world, his humble mansion stood\\nScarce to the passing stranger s eye betrayed,\\nAmid the mountain ash and sumac s shade.\\nHe loved his sacred work but well he knew,\\nT was no small task, his Saviour bade him do;\\nA task, which claimed whate er he had of power,\\nThe daily discipline, the midnight hour.\\nIn solitude, remote from public care.\\nHe strove by faith, by penitence, and prayer.\\nTo purify the troubled heart within,\\nAnd thus reproved more bold the people s sin\\nTill from his lips his warnings and advice\\nCame with the power of mandates from the skies.\\nBut deem him not unkind he shared the love\\nOf those whom duty called him to reprove\\nFor when stern justice spoke in tones severe.\\nHe yet to Pity gave the willing tear.\\nThe poor ne er failed to find in him a friend,\\nReady his counsel, care, and aid to lend.\\nThe great and rich revered him, for they saw\\nHis heart was fixed in heaven, and heaven his law;\\nAnd when at times he walked the public street,\\nThe children came the holy man to greet.\\nAnd from his lips, still to their office true,\\nA father s prayer, a father s blessing drew.\\nWhen on the bed of death his flock were laid,\\nAnd turned to human art in vain for aid.\\nWhen friends, who shed the agonizing tear,\\nAround that bed of death were gathered near,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0050.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 99\\nWe saw him oft to that dread scene repair,\\nAnd lift to heaven the humbly fervent prayer.\\nIn life and death one object he pursued,\\nTo check the vicious, and build up the good,\\nTo pour the light upon the darkened mind.\\nTo guide the wretch to vicious paths inclined.\\nAnd mid the maze of life to point the way,\\nThat upward leads to heaven s unclouded day.\\nYouth lasts not always suns and stars roll on\\nAnd scarce its bliss is tasted, ere t is gone.\\nI older grew, and then it was my care\\nFor riper life and duty to prepare;\\nAnd moving on a more extended plan,\\nTo lay aside the boy, and act the man.\\nStill rises to my thought that saddened day,\\nWhich broke my dreams, and called me far away,\\nTo leave (I left them not without a tear,)\\nAll I had honored, loved, and held most dear.\\nAs I went forth and viewed the glorious sun.\\nAnd looked, where wild Cocheco s waters run,\\nAnd gazed upon each loved and chosen scene.\\nThe ancient wood, the ornamented green.\\nAnd heard once more the birds and bounding rill.\\nAnd saw the lambs, that gamboled on the hill.\\nWhat days and years into that moment came.\\nGleamed at the melting eye, and shook the frame.\\nThoughts, troubled and o ercharged, my bosom swell;\\nI sadly turned, and sighed a long farewell.\\nSadly and slow, I sought the Cottage door.\\nEre I depart, to taste its bliss once more", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0051.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "40\\nDAYS OF YOUTH.\\nBut vainly strove, dear as it was, to find\\nA solace for my grieved, desponding mind.\\nThere stood around, (it shames me not to tell,)\\nBrothers and sisters, whom i loved full well;\\nWho, as they saw, not soon to see again.\\nShowed in their sorrowed looks, the inward pain.\\nNor they alone yet other friends were near,\\nTo give the warm embrace, the frequent tear,\\nAnd sadly to lament, too dear to 1 st,\\nThe joys, that blessed them, now forever past.\\nBut ere, a pilgrim to another land,\\nI bade Adieu, and gave the parting hand,\\nMy watchful Mother called me from the rest,\\nWith heart unchanged, her warmest love expressed\\nNor let me go, till from its place she drew\\nA Bible, kept for this last interview.\\nTake, my dear child, she said, this Sacred Book,\\nAnd often in its page of wisdom look.\\nMake this your counsellor, and though you be\\nFar from your home, and far, too far, from me,\\nI will not fear. Let this your ways control.\\nAnd to its teachings lend your inmost soul\\nThen shall your Mother s gladdened heart be blest,\\nHer griefs subdued, her anxious thoughts at rest.\\nMy Mother I began with thee my strain\\nTo thee I turn my changeless heart again.\\nThough not in all the same, as thou wast then,\\nWhen forth I tried the troubled haunts of men,\\nFor age, that comes to all, hath come to thee.\\nWith kindling eye less bright, and step less free,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0052.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "DAYS OF YOUTH. 41\\nThou didst not ever, and thou couldst not prove\\nOne throb diminished from a mother s love.\\nAnd thou hast had thy sorrows. He is gone,\\nAnd left thee in thy widowhood alone,\\nWho bore with thee the burden of the day,\\nWho watched with thee thy children s infant play,\\nWho, loved and honored, though unknown to fame.\\nSustained the Husband s and the Father s name.\\nI too will weep, for I have deeply known\\nThe love, that in his life and aspect shone.\\nBlest, sacred form, that, ever placed by thine,\\nSurvives and brightens in the spirit s shrine\\nBut let me not forget, the shaft for me.\\nNot meant for one alone, had wounds for thee\\nAnd that my watchful thoughts and cares are due\\nTo her, who far the deeper sorrow knew.\\nYes, let me come, and in thy weary age,\\nAttempt that hidden anguish to assuage.\\nAnd grateful, with a pious hand to bring\\n(Such as I may,) my filial offering.\\nThe Bible from thine own loved hand I took,\\nWet with a Mother s tears, the sacred Book.\\nT was the last gift, when from thy sight I drew.\\nTo venture forth on doubtful scenes and new.\\nAnd thou was kind that Book hath done me good,\\nMany an inward evil hath subdued.\\nTaught me the nature of the world to see,\\nThe frailness of its hopes, its vanity.\\nAnd from the scenes around me turned mine eye\\nTo other scenes and mansions in the sky.\\nThere may I meet with thee be that our home,\\nNo more to sorrow, never more to roam", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0053.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "42 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nThere are the bowers, whose bloom shall ne er decay,\\nWhile all inferior glories fade away\\nThere shall the wanderers meet, the weary there,\\nIn songs of everlasting triumph share.\\nVanity of Human Pursuits.\\nI.\\nOn yonder sunny hills, when summer s prime\\nWith leaf and flower the blooming earth hath strowed,\\nThe bees return from beds of rose and thyme,\\nSolicitous to bouse the fragrant load.\\nSee, how the labor rages far and wide,\\nAnd hurried murmers fill the peopled air\\nSo busy men rush forth from side to side\\nFor weary foot and hand they take no care\\nBut dig, and build, and reap, all rushing here and there.\\n11.\\nT is work and bustle, strife and turmoil rude\\nThe object various, wealth, enjoyment, power\\nNo matter what, t is ever well pursued\\nThey tug, they strive, they sweat their little hour.\\nAs when Wyandot Indians, one and all,\\nFar in the woody depths of Michigan,\\nAre gathered to their favorite game of ball,\\nT is running, pushing, shrieking, catch who can,\\nAnd he, who scrambles best, is every inch a man.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0054.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS. 43\\nIII.\\nSome lift the sail, and launching from the shore,\\nTo distant lands their venturous arts proclaim.\\nSome dig the earth, and clutch the shining ore,\\nAnd with their golden ingots build a name.\\nSome lend an ear to loud Ambition s cry.\\nVarious the means, but self the mighty end.\\nWhate er the many methods, which they try.\\nTo this they all, with faithful instinct bend.\\nThis is the Ball they kick for this one prize contend.\\nIV.\\nI would not say, that all alike are found\\nRestricted to this law and selfish aim\\nThat none have power to take the upward bound,\\nAnd kindred with a higher purpose claim.\\nThere are some chosen ones but few, alas\\nThe multitude rush on the general way.\\nLift up thine eye, and see them as they pass\\nAll have cheir mark, and easy t is to say.\\nWhere, in the mighty rout, each shall his name display.\\nV.\\nFirst come, with hurried gait, the motley tribe.\\nSallow and lean, the men of fees and rent.\\nWho add to what they earn, the secret bribe,\\nAnd call it but another cent per cent.\\nWith pen suspended on the knowing ear,\\nAnd spectacles astride, they con their book\\nBut when the sudden fall of stocks they hear,\\nWhat heaven of joy doth fill their altered look;\\nThey dart like hungry pikes, and catch the baited hook.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0055.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "44 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nVI.\\nThus is the shearer shorn, the catcher caught;\\nWith features long and grim they hurry back\\nBut still, alike by loss and gain untaught,\\nOnce more their plodding cerebrum they rack,\\nTheir ledger and their day-book fingering still\\nAnd bone and muscle, heart and conscience wear.\\nAnd what good end or purpose to fulfill\\nTis answered in a word. This life of care\\nShall gratify the lusts of some mean, spendthrift heir.\\nVII.\\nAnd there are those of Epicurus stye,\\nA mighty brood, poor children of the dust.\\nOh, who will show us any good, they cry.\\nNot mental good, but which subserves to lust\\nThey press the ruddy goblet to the lip\\nWine merry makes the heart, at once they sing\\nAnd then they laughing take the other sip\\nWhen, lo, the arches high uproarious ring,\\nAnd he, who s clothed in rags, is every inch a king.\\nVIII.\\nPleasure they call their God, and sure it is\\nBut fire-eyed adders lurk within their bowl.\\nSee how the spotted monsters turn and hiss\\nThen fierce and sudden sting the wretch s soul.\\nAnd who will help them now They shriek, they run\\nBut find, alas, too mighty is their chain\\nBefore another day s declining sun,\\nThey seek the haunts of revelry again.\\nThey drink the pleasure first, then howling rue the pain.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0056.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS. 45\\nIX.\\nGo where they dwell, when revelry is o er,\\nAnd mark what other sorrows crown their sin\\nSlow on its rusty hinges creaks the door,\\nAnd all is dirt and raggedness within.\\nA single brand is smouldering on the hearth\\nThe wretched mother sits in silence there\\nHer children show no bliss, no wonted mirth\\nTheir mouths are hungry, and their limbs are bare\\nThe stupid father nods, drunk in his broken chair.\\nX.\\nFair laughs the morn, and pleasant is the breeze,\\nAnd yonder rolls the Bay of Biscay, O\\nThus sings the sailor, as he treads the seas.\\nAnd mountain high his gallant bark doth go.\\nT is his upon the ocean s path to roam\\nThrough flood and storm, with jolly heart he steers.\\nAnd little cares he for his father s home,\\nAnd little thinks he of his mother s tears,\\nWho held him on her knees, and kissed his childish years.\\nXI.\\nThe world is all before him, where to seek\\nFrom every land its congregated spoil.\\nNow waves his flag o er distant Mozambique,\\nNow floats triumphant at the seven-mouthed Nile,\\nWhere Cajsar sat at Cleopatra s side.\\nAnon behold him in his ceasless flight.\\nBounding along with favoring wind and tide.\\nWhere Syrian shepherds watch the starry night,\\nOr where Chineses drive their cany wagons light.\\n4", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0057.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "46 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nXII.\\nVain man He thinks not of the Higher Power,\\nWhose hand controls the mighty ocean s roar.\\nAlas He comes in no propitious hour,\\nAnd smites thee in thy glory, ship and store.\\nYes, ere to-morrow s blazing sun shall set.\\nThe ocean, that should bear thee as a friend,\\nNo longer laughing like a rivulet,\\nShall plank and mast and sail and cable rend.\\nAnd thou, a drowning fly, thy little life shalt end.\\nxni.\\nNext comes the Soldier, mark d with scratch and scar,\\nPreceded loud with clanging trump and drums\\nThe mob recoil before this God of War,\\nAnd throw their caps the conquering hero comes.\\nSlow move his coursers he, with laurelled head,\\nBends low, and utters meek some grateful word.\\nAnd then, as if to rouse the sleeping dead.\\nThe multitude, to slavish homage stirred.\\nMake yet again their throat with horrid uproar heard.\\nXIV.\\nAnd why is all this humble homage given\\nThe suppliant knee, the tributary eye 1\\nWhy ring the arches of the troubled heaven.\\nWhen thus a fellow mortal passes by 1\\nAlas, what folly marks this idle state,\\nAnd most of all, in those who plaudits give.\\nT is true the silly world have called him great.\\nAnd deem his glorious name shall ever live.\\nBut what reward shall he from Virtue s hand receive I", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0058.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS. 47\\nXV.\\nOh, think of those, who far in humble life,\\nIn shaded vales and silent woods remote,\\nReap not the laurels of the sanguine strife,\\nHail not the plaudits of the trumpet s note;\\nBut weep their brothers lost, their husbands slain,\\nTo sad and unavailing grief a prey.\\nThey call the loved one s name, but all in vain\\nThey cannot, cannot wake the lifeless clay\\nThen flow their tears once more their thoughts are far\\naway.\\nXVI.\\nThe scene expands before affection s eyes\\nLow on the earth their soldier hows his head\\nNo sister s love receives his dying cries,\\nNo mother s care protects his dying bed.\\nNo more for him his mountain birds shall sing\\nNo more for him the vales resound with joy.\\nHe dies. His life is broken at its spring.\\nFarewell, a long farewell, poor, bleeding boy\\nThe conquering hero comes He comes but to destroy.\\nXVH.\\nNow mark the Politician, grave and shrewd,\\nWho hath his cautious, well-conn d scroll by rote.\\nWhen storms against the ship of state intrude.\\nHe lifts aloud his patriotic throat.\\nHe hath no private aims, forgets himself,\\nFor others toils, and dares the dubious fight,\\nTill in some luckless hour the shining pelf\\nPours on his patriot eye another light,\\nThen, like the owl at noon, he huddles out of sight.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0059.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "48 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nXVIII.\\nNot so with others. Onward still they strive.\\nProgressing o er the high, official stairs,\\nTill at the highest round they, pleased, arrive\\nAnon, some other cometh unawares.\\nAnd jerks them down, with horrid uproar vast\\nChaos itself is moved, as far and wide\\nThe headlong multitude are sprawling cast,\\nAnd kick, and foam, and roll from side to side,\\nTill, lo, in yonder ditch, they plunging deep, abide.\\nXIX.\\nNot all are such. There are some nobler names\\nInscribed upon the great Historic page,\\nWhich blazons forth to all mankind their claims\\nTo honor and renown, from age to age.\\nNot men, (alas, too many such are known,)\\nWho, thumping on the rostral board, elate,\\nProclaim their country s good, but mean their own;\\nAnd while they seem to save the sinking State,\\nWith self-regarding eye, on their own fortunes wait.\\nXX.\\nYes, there are some, who, shunning party strife.\\nThat shakes too oft the mighty Common-weal,\\nHave nobly pledged their honor and their life,\\nThe public griefs, the nation s wounds to heal.\\nWhen clouds came lowering o er their native soil,\\nAnd blackness veiled her glory s rising sun,\\nThey ready stood to suffer and to toil.\\nAnd thus the amaranthine laurel won\\nSuch were the virtuous Jay, the patriot Madison.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0060.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS. 49\\nXXI.\\nDown in his six feet dungeon, under ground,\\nOr raised, perchance, to attic story high,\\nHe, with his shrunk and dusty form, is found.\\nWhose task it is, in musty books to pry.\\nThe Scholar, seeking learning s treasured spoil.\\nStrange is the weary life, which he hath led\\nHe hath a midnight lamp, and little oil\\nHe hath a staff, a mug, an ancient bed.\\nAnd many spiders weave their curtains o er his head.\\nxxn.\\nUpon his shelf the great Manetho stands,\\nAnd eke Sanchoniathon, cheek by jowl,\\nAnd when he turns them with his trembling hands.\\nDemure he looks, and wise, as any owl.\\nStuffed, on the walls, a lizard doth preside,\\nAnd, pendant from a nail, a brick, that came\\nFrom Babylon and great Euphrates tide.\\nWith such as this, perchance the very same,\\nWas Babel s tower raised up, to make to men a name.\\nxxni.\\nAnd thus he delves, and at his finger s ends,\\nAll time, all knowledge, and all arts are sure\\nBut never once an outward look he bends\\nOn that great Book, where knowledge shall endure j\\nNature s material aspect, pure and bright.\\nAnd what is more, the priceless heart of man.\\nTo that blest page, his soul is dark as night\\nHe knoweth not the Great Creator s plan\\nBut ragged parchments pores, and it is all he can.\\n4*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0061.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "50 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nXXIV.\\nThe poet, too, doth ply his thankless trade,\\nAnd drain, with leaky pen, his addled brain.\\nPoor man Upon the couch of phrenzy laid,\\nWhat dreams and airy sights what joys, what pain!\\nThen rising quick, he snatches fierce his quill.\\nTo pour once more his fancy s products forth,\\nScribbling in haste, till he his page doth fill\\nWith forms and extacies of sudden birth,\\nThen conning o er, he stares, to find it little worth.\\nXXV.\\nBut try again. The Delphic height once more,\\nWith strugglings hard and frantic steps, ascend;\\nBeneath his feet the dashing torrents roar.\\nAbove, the rainbows and the lightnings blend.\\nExtatic he And strives to image fair.\\nIn fitting words, what Nature shows sublime\\nBut all in vain it vanishes in air.\\nHe topples headlong and the stream of time\\nDoth drown him in its gulphs, his honor and his rhyme.\\nXXVI.\\nBut there are some, who gain the topmost height.\\nWhere Glory hath its never dying ray.\\nAnd, like the mystic angel, clothed in light,*\\nReveal their robes of everlasting day.\\nSons of the genuine lyre whose magic song,\\nCoined from the heart, and to the heart consigned.\\nBorne forth on winged words, a chosen throng,\\nReveals the deep, the universal mind\\nAnd such pass not away, the honor of their kind.\\nRevelations, 19, 17.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0062.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS. 51\\nXXVII.\\nSo various are the projects men pursue\\nSo worthless oft the objects here below\\nBut is there nought for human hands to do?\\nShall all be deemed a false, illusive show?\\nIs mortal life no more than trodden weeds,\\nAnd faithless, as the rise and fall of stocks\\nOh, no There s yet the man, the plough that speeds\\nThe shepherd still is seated on the rocks,\\nAnd like the Patriarchs old, protects and guides his flocks.\\nXXVIII.\\nAnd what is more, there s yet the secret place\\nOf him, who speaks to great Jehovah s ear\\nRemote from noise, he runs his godly race,\\nFrom men apart, but to his Maker near.\\nBehold the splendors of the rising sun\\nBehold the blessings of the falling rain\\nSuch are the gifts his fervent prayers have won,\\nAnd mental dews and light complete his gain.\\nUnhonored though he be, he doth not live in vain.\\nXXIX.\\nPerchance, all beneficial arts are well,\\nWhen followed with a conscientious eye.\\nWhen what is done shall favorably tell.\\nHowever small, on vast Eternity.\\nFirst let the secret heart be right and then,\\nAscendant o er the things of time and sense.\\nThou shalt not fear the gibes of sordid men,\\nWhate er thy task, but have a sure defence\\nIn one o er-ruling Power, a righteous Providence.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0063.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "52 VANITY OF HUMAN PURSUITS.\\nXXX.\\nAmerica My own, my native land\\nTo thee my bosom turns with fondness true.\\nWouldst thou in future days in honor stand,\\nAnd bear thy flag, where never yet it flew,\\nThen seek thy glory, not in treasured gold,\\nAnd seek it less in blood and widow s tears,\\nBut rather from the men, the plough who hold.\\nAnd him, who truth and piety reveres.\\nThus firmly shalt thou dwell through all the coming years.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0064.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life\\nUnder this title we propose to present to the reader a series of\\npoems, which have for their object to give some idea of American\\nrural life as it is and especially when elevated and purified by\\nreligious influences. To do ihis with poetical spirit, and at the\\nsame time with near conformity to the truth, it must be admitted,\\nis no easy task. But we hope the attempt has been so far attended\\nwith success, that the reader will at least find reason for increased\\nattachment to his favored country, and to her domestic and reli-\\ngious manners and institutions.\\n(l.) THE farmer s fireside.\\nThe moving accident is not my trade\\nTo freeze the blood I have no ready arts\\nTis my delight, alone in summer shade.\\nTo pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.\\nHart-leap Well, Wordsworth.\\nI.\\nHappy the man, not doomed afar to roam,\\nIn distant lands, beneath a foreign sky,\\nWho hath a humble and secluded home.\\nBathed by the little brook that prattles by,\\nWith trees begirt, and birds that warble nigh.\\nHe, as he sitteth in his humble, state.\\nHath little cause for earth s poor gauds to sigh\\nHe needs not envy whom the world calls great,\\nWho live in splendid house, with men that on them wait.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0065.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "54 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nII.\\nThe king upon a throne a sceptre wields,\\nThe cotter for a sceptre wields a hoe\\nBut kings have griefs, which he, who tills the fields\\nIn humble honesty, doth never know.\\nHe, who through life in quietness would go,\\nFar from the noisy world his way will keep,\\nBeside the streams in solitude that flow,\\nContented with his little flock of sheep.\\nNor seek, in Glory s paths, her fading wreaths to reap.\\nIII.\\nFar to the woodland haunts I turn mine eye.\\nNor longer in the troubled world remain.\\nWhere I have known no sweets of liberty,\\nAnd seeming joy hath turned to real pain.\\nWelcome to wood, to mountain, and to plain.\\nTo silent streams, and forests reaching wide\\nBut chiefly guide my weary step again\\nTo youth s rude scenes, Cocheco s gushing tide.\\nAnd that old Cottage, once that graced its verdant side.\\nIV.\\nMeekly arose its moss-besprinkled wall,\\nWhere broad and green the elm majestic bore\\nIts branches o er it, overshadowing all\\nThe space around its hospitable door\\nWithin, might one behold its little store,\\nThe plates well ranged, the shelves that neatly graced,\\nThe chairs of oak upon the sanded floor.\\nThe wheel industrious in its corner placed.\\nThe clock, that hourly told, how life runs on to waste.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0066.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "THE farmer s fireside. 55\\nV.\\nOnce more the pensive eve with silent tread\\nReturns to hush the noisy world to peace\\nOnce more the Farmer seeks his humble shed,\\nGlad from his daily toil to gain release,\\nHis task accomplished and his heart at ease.\\nAnd hails betimes the Fireside of his Cot;\\nAnd there, as from the hills the shades increase,\\nThe world forgetting, by the world forgot,\\nHe tastes the simple joys, that soothe his quiet lot.\\nVL\\nHis patient herd, ere set the beams of day,\\nWith lowings oft alarmed the neighboring plain\\nNow penned within the well known bars, they pay\\nTheir milky tribute to his pails again.\\nHis flocks upon the distant hill remain.\\nTheir tinkling bells sound in the passing wind\\nThough small the limits of his rude domain,\\nYet fails he not a due supply to find,\\nFrom lowing herd and field, and from the bleating kind.\\nvii.\\nTo greet him home the crackling fagots burn\\nThe housewife, busy round the blazing fire.\\nCheers with her smiles her husband s loved return.\\nHis children climb around their honored sire.\\nAnd to his fond caress once more aspire\\nInquisitive, they ask of each far field,\\nWhether its hills than their own cliffs are higher\\nWhat wonders there of cascade are revealed\\nWhat flowers enchanting bloom, what gifts the moun-\\ntains yield", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0067.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "56 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nVIII.\\nThe smiling Father in his turn inquires,\\nWhat sights of joy hath bright-eyed Mary seen?\\nThe kind, parental look her voice inspires.\\nAnd she doth tell, where o er their plat of green\\nThe elm erects its sun-excluding screen.\\nShe watched the lambs, and saw them at their play;\\nNor had they long at their rude gambols been,\\nEre two small birds, perched on a little spray,\\nProud of their wings of red, poured forth their pretty lay.\\nIX.\\nHer father s knee his Mary soon surmounts.\\nAround his neck her tender arms she throws\\nFrom her bright eyes, as from celestial founts.\\nThe laughing light through locks of darkness glows.\\nNor she alone. He on them all bestows\\nAlike his kisses, and alike his tears,\\nWho bloomed, (on autumn s bosom like the rose,\\nMid cold and storm its loveliness that rears,)\\nTo cheer his riper age, and deck his vale of years.\\nX.\\nTo him, how blessed the daylight s closing gleam,\\nThe hour, that ushers bliss supremely dear.\\nWhen bright his hearth expands its evening beam,\\nAnd needed rest succeeds to toil severe\\nThe cricket chirps his humble home to cheer\\nThe cheerful blaze illumes the white-washed wall\\nBowed on the hearth the wearied dog sleeps near\\nThe playful kitten, round and round, the ball\\nUrges with active sport, unmindfully of all.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0068.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "THE farmer s fireside. 67\\nXL\\nThe children, too, disposed to childish mirth,\\nTheir busy laugh and prattle do not spare.\\nSuch sounds of joy, such sports around his hearth.\\nScenes, which each eve returning doth repair.\\nCharm from the farmer s breast corroding care,\\nAnd banish it to blank oblivion foul.\\nHark Loud and startling through the misty air,\\nThe prowling wolf resumes his nightly howl,\\nAnd from the hollow oak is heard the muffled owl.\\nXII.\\nHow oft I sought that distant, lonely cot\\nA grandam dwelt there, when my days were young,\\nAnd there, when Christmas logs blazed red and hot.\\nAnd wintry blasts their nightly descant sung,\\nMy soul attentive on her lips has hung.\\nAs spoke she oft of dreadful deeds of yore.\\nHow savage men with savage fury sprung\\nUpon tha lonely cot, and tides of gore\\nWere shed, as when the clouds their vernal treasures pour.\\nXIIL\\nHer hands were withered as an autumn s leaf,\\nHer cheeks were like a parched and shriveled scroll\\nIn truth she d seen, though life at best be brief.\\nNo less than eighty years their circuits roll,\\nAnd friends and kindred reach their earthly goal\\nAnd sitting by her busy wheel to spin.\\nWhile swift the hours at evening onward stole.\\nWe teazed her oft some story to begin,\\nAnd as she slowly moved her old, projecting chin,\\n5", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0069.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "58 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIV.\\nOf Chieftains of the olden years she told,\\nOf Hopehood s wars and Paugus frantic yell\\nAnd, as her lips those bloody deeds unfold.\\nAnd as, with upturned gaze, we heard her tell.\\nUnconsciously the chrystal tear-drops fell\\nFor, from our infancy we d heard and read\\nOf chiefs from Canada, and know full well\\nOf Sachem s wrath, that feasted on the dead.\\nAnd shook the haughty plume, and arm with life-blood red,\\nXV.\\nOh, who can tell to what n storm of grief.\\nIn those sad days our father s hearts were bared\\nThey were no common sorrows, few and brief,\\nFor capture wasted what the sword had spared.\\nYet strong in faith, for each event prepared.\\nTo live or die, as God should order how.\\nThe griefs and dangers of their lot they dared,\\nThey walked in joy and glory with the plough,\\nAnd at the throne of God did morn and evening bow.\\nXVI.\\nDeem it not strange such recollections fill\\nWith feelings new and strong the youthful mind\\nThey make e en seared and aged bosoms thrill,\\nAnd mourn the woes that fall on human kind.\\nOne evening to that cot my steps inclined.\\nThe giant elm-tree waved before its door.\\nThe frowning clouds were driven before the wind,\\nThe distant cataract was heard to roar.\\nAnd pale the tranquil moon, as wave on ocean s shore.\\nI", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0070.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "THE farmer s fireside. 59\\nXVII.\\nThere, too, a soldier bent his nightly way,\\nT was long ago,) one of the Old French War,\\nWho carried proof of fierce and bloody fray\\nUpon his visage, marked with seam and scar\\nWeary his step, for he had wandered far.\\nThe locks upon his silvered head were few.\\nHis eye was like the winter s clouded star.\\nBut much that eye had seen, and much he knew,\\nThough now his frame was bent, and towards the grave\\nhe drew.\\nXVIII.\\nThe sturdy staff, that in his hand he bore.\\nWas parted from an oak, whose branches spread\\nNear wild Gocheco s oft remembered roar;\\nAnd turning to the cottage door his tread.\\nThough old and weary, well his purpose sped.\\nThe farmer hailed him to his lone abode,\\nGave him a portion of his cup and bread.\\nAnd soon, forgetful of the tedious road.\\nHow fields were lost and won, the aged soldier showed.\\nXIX.\\nHe told the deeds of Abraham s blood-red plain,\\nWhere, as their standards flashed upon the gale.\\nThe rival warriors fell like summer s rain.\\nAnd shouts were heard, triumphant songs, and wail\\nNot unto him a visionary tale;\\nFor, where the wide St. Lawrence winds his way,\\nHe fought with Wolfe, called from his native vale,\\nAnd dark Piscatawa s glades of green array.\\nTo cross the mountains blue to distant Canada.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0071.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "60 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXX.\\nFull well he knew the cruelties of strife,\\nFor, as he trod, with blood-red foot, the field,\\nHe saw full many in the morn of life,\\nTheir parents hope, to death and darkness sealed.\\nAlas, what woes that dreadful day revealed\\nThe day, when fell the chivalrous Montcalm.\\nAnd then more loud the trump its war-note pealed\\nAnd, (withered be the hand that wrought such harm,)\\nSoon Wolfe sunk bleeding low, nerveless his mighty arm.\\nXXL\\nThus did the bowed old man, with hoary head.\\nRelate the sad and stormy times of yore.\\nWhen jealous France and England madly shed\\nUpon the deserts of this Western shore.\\nAs it were worthless dust, their bosom s gore.\\nSo prom.pt are men, from pride or lust of gain,\\nWhate er they have, still seeking after more.\\nTo scoff at love, and justice to profane,\\nAnd with a brother s blood a brother s hand to stain.\\nXXII.\\nBut though such tales were heard with many a tear,\\nAnd mem ry, fancy, feeling all possessed.\\nYet soon, in truth, the gayety and cheer\\nThat ever animate the youthful breast.\\nBy solemn thoughts, unconquered, unsuppressed.\\nAwoke in sports anew the slipper s sound,\\nBy youth and village maiden ne er at rest.\\nWas driven through the circle round and round.\\nAnd every cheek did smile, and every heart did bound.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0072.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "THE farmer s fireside. 61\\nXXITI.\\nE en the old soldier felt his bosom thrill\\nWith memory of scenes, that erst he knew\\nHis mind the visions of his childhood fill,\\nAnd as around the room the children flew\\nAt Blind-Man s Buff, he would have joined them too,\\nBut age to youth will not wing back its flight;\\nTo sit and smile was all that he could do,\\nWhile he, who blinded was, to left and right\\nRushed wildly round the room, and caught them as he\\nmight.\\nXXIV.\\nAt blind-man s buff*, who hath not often played.\\nAt pledges oft the moments to beguile.\\nWhen sober evening lends her peaceful shade,\\nWhen heart replies to heart, and smile to smile\\nThe hearth is burdened with the oaken pile.\\nSuch as New England s forests well can spare\\nStill flies the slipper round a few meanwhile\\nThe warriors of the chequer-board prepare,\\nThe garrulous old folk draw, round the fire, the chair.\\nXXV.\\nBut now the white moon, through the clouds revealed.\\nDoth tread the topmost arches of the sky\\nThe Farmer s cot, the cultivated field.\\nThe brook, the plain, the mountain soaring high,\\nBeneath her beams in wild profusion lie.\\nThe dog upon the ground hath lain his breast,\\nStilled is his howl, and sealed his restless eye\\nThe sturdy wood-cutter hath gone to rest\\nThe flock is on the hill, the bird is on the nest.\\n5*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0073.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "62 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE,\\nXXVI.\\nFarewell, thou cottage, for t is late at eve,\\nFarewell, ye scenes to memory ever dear\\nNow eld, and youth, and maiden take their leave,\\nTheir kerchiefs wave, and with adieu sincere,\\nThe rural company soon disappear\\nSome through yon scattered woods, that skirt the moor.\\nSome to yon mountains, craggy, bold, and drear.\\nAnd by the Fireside of the cot once more.\\nDevotion lifts her voice, as she was wont of yore.\\nXXVII.\\nThe thoughtful farmer reads the Sacred Book,\\nThen with the wife and children of his heart.\\nWith solemn soul and reverential look,\\nHe humbly kneels, as is the Christian s part.\\nAnd worships Thee, our Father, Thee, who art\\nThe good man s hope, the poor man s only stay\\nWho hast a balm for sorrow s keenest dart,\\nA smile for those, to thee who humbly pray.\\nWhich, like the morning sun, drives every cloud away.\\nXXVIII.\\nThou, Lord of Heaven above, and earth below,\\nOur maker, friend, our guardian, and our all.\\nThe Farmer keep from every want and woe.\\nNor let the thunderbolts, that most appall,\\nOf righteous vengeance, dreadful on him fall\\nWith him preserve his dear, his native land\\nA cloud be round her, and a fiery wall.\\nIn innocence and honor let her stand,\\nAnd centuries yet to come, oh, hold her in thy hand.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0074.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life.\\n(ll.) THE HOME IN THE MOUNTAINS.\\n[A few miles back of the early residence of the writer, is a range\\nof beautiful mountains. They are gradual in their ascent, and in\\nsome places cultivated to the top. They are inhabited by an in-\\ndustrious and intelligent, and, for the most part, a religious people.\\nThese mountains were the scene of the writer s youthful visits;\\nand it was his good fortune to become acquainted with some of the\\ninhabitants. It is the object of the following Poem to embody-\\nsome of the pleasing impressions to which that acquaintance gave\\nrise.]\\nI.\\nI, -WHO with other scenes familiar grown,\\nHave spent my days amid the city s strife,\\nToo long to rugged hills and woods unknown,\\nHave learnt at last the joys of cottage life,\\nThe hardy toil, the form inspired with health,\\nThe warmth of friendship, and the guileless ways.\\nYe, who in vain seek happiness in wealth.\\nAttentive, meditate my simple lays.\\nInspired by truth, perchance, if wanting other praise.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0075.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "64 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nII.\\nUp, from the mart of busy commerce flee,\\nIts pomp and jarring tumult leave behind;\\nWhen birds are singing in the summer s tree,\\nOr Autumn comes his golden sheaves to bind.\\nGo forth amid the forest and the rocks,\\nAnd there untarnished truth and virtue trace\\nAs thou shalt see the shepherd with his flocks,\\nOr scan, as I do now, the ploughman s race.\\nOr, at the cottage hearth, shalt mingle face to face.\\nIII.\\nT was thus I onward fared, one summer s day,\\nWhere rising hills in native grandeur spread\\nLonely and far the path ascending lay.\\nThat upward to the Farmer s dwelling led.\\nThe merry birds poured forth their various song\\nThe squirrel on the hazel took his seat\\nThe bubbling brooks danced rapidly along.\\nAnd filled the forest with their echoes sweet.\\nAs through the woods I went, my rural friend to meet.\\n[V.\\nNor was the meeting void of friendship s truth,\\nRepressed by selfishness, or marred by fears\\nFor we had known each other in our youth,\\nAnd youthful love had grown with riper years.\\nHis Home was in the Mountains. Far from noise,\\nAnd undisturbed by grandeur s gaudy scene.\\nHe, with his wife and children, had his joys,\\nCalm as their mountain sunset s ray serene.\\nAlthough, perchance, at times, some clouds may intervene.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0076.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "THE HOME IN THE MOUNTAINS. 65\\nV.\\nHis bliss was not in Idleness, t is true.\\n(On that dull tree true pleasure will not grow.)\\nThe Farmer ever had his work to do,\\nAnd wanton days and slothful, did not know.\\nThe sun, that doth no sluggard s part fulfill,\\nWhat time it decks the sky with earliest red,\\nAnd scales with dewy step the eastern hill.\\nNe er found him useless in the loiterer s bed,\\nBut forth, with men and boys, where toil and duty led.\\nVI.\\nUprose the sun, and uprose Emily\\nThus English Chaucer sung in days of old.\\nUprose the sun nor was less pleased to see\\nThe Farmer s daughters, with his eye of gold.\\nThe morning maids were at their milking pail\\nAnd soon the cows, obedient to their word,\\nRegained, in lengthened row, the distant vale\\nAnd all around, to higher anthems stirred,\\nFrom glittering bush and tree, sung loud the early bird.\\nVII.\\nThe maids, if right I saw, were well content.\\nNor envied aught the sport and splendor found\\nAmong the gay, the proud, the opulent.\\nFar other cares they knew. The daily round\\nOf household duties occupied their thought\\nThe churn, the wheel, and to the parent pair,\\nBy Nature s strong unerring instinct taught.\\nThey fondly gave their homage and their care.\\nSuch were their useful toils, such humble joys they share.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0077.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "66\\nAMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nVIII.\\nOne ruling wish they had. It was to spend\\nUpon their native hills their peaceful days,\\nWhere they had known the neighbor and the friend,\\nA parent s fondness, and a brother s praise.\\nStill to our hearts our native hills are dear,\\nThus sung they oft by murmuring brook and tree,\\nWhere, with their gossip maids they sit and hear,\\nAt sultry noon or starlight shining free,\\nOf all their sports and toils, the humble history.\\nIX.\\nThose, who are pent in sylvan scenes apart,\\nWhene er they meet, have ever much to say;\\nTheir words bear not the stamp of polished art,\\nNor are they such, as higher minds might sway.\\nBut though their speech is not of things that thrill,\\nAnd bring sad shadows o er the throbbing brow,\\nT is such as may a Cotter s fancy fill.\\nThough but the story of his faithful plough,\\nOr of his petted lamb, or luckless wandering cow.\\nX.\\nSometimes the sheep, that stray, ne er come again;\\nSometimes the fox invades the garden s bound\\nOr sudden winds have vexed the standing grain.\\nOr blown, alas, the village steeple down.\\nBut all such things shall pass, as they have come,\\nAnd every shadow from the memory flee,\\nWhen Lucy s brother from the town comes home,\\nAnd Jeannie s lad returns from o er the sea.\\nTo rest from toil awhile, in mountain liberty.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0078.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "THE HOME IN THE MOUNTAINS. 67\\nXL\\nT is ever thus. The ties of friend and kin\\nAre found most strong and most with pleasure rife,\\nAmong the dwellings of the poor, and in\\nThe unambitious walks of rural life.\\nWith woods around them, waters at their feet,\\nWith flowers beneath, and fragrance in the air,\\nT is not in vain, that they each other meet\\nNot one, that has a pleasure or a care.\\nBut calls a kindred heart, that joy or grief to share.\\nXII.\\nThe restless steers are fastened to the wain\\n(I marked them ere they went their sounding way;)\\nThe early ditcher seeks the fields again.\\nWith shovel glancing in the morning ray.\\nWith bag and barley from the threshing-floor,\\nThe slow-paced horse expands his loaded side.\\nThe feathered group surround the cottage door,\\nAnd Maiy, with her basin well supplied,\\nForth from her little hand their portion doth divide.\\nXIII.\\nFar in the noisy woods, the bleating sheep\\nAscend the rocks, and breathe the upland air.\\nThe fair-haired William there his watch doth keep,\\nToo young as yet, a higher charge to share.\\nNor outward sights alone refresh the eye,\\nNor outward labors to the heart appeal\\nThe elder Jane her constant task doth ply,\\nWithin the cottage-walls, with cheerful zeal,\\nAnd, singing rural songs, still turns her murmuring wheel.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0079.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "do AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIV.\\nSuch are the scenes, that Mountain homes unfold\\nThe history such of those who till the land.\\nForth in the fields the Cotter s self behold\\nBehind his plough, with persevering hand.\\nNor deem it a disgrace the plough to guide\\nDid not great Cincinnatus till the ground,\\nHe, who the hostile Volsci scattered wide\\nThe Seer Elisha, at the plough was found\\nThe plough, that reverence claims the mighty world\\naround.\\nXV.\\n1 venerate the man the plough who speeds.\\nThe independent tiller of the soil.\\nWho, boasting not of vainly glorious deeds.\\nYet scorns to live by other people s toil.\\nThough all unnoticed in ambition s strife,\\nWhich, with its noisy war doth wide resound.\\nThere s yet a pleasure in the Ploughman s life,\\nA bliss, attendant on the cultured ground,\\nWhich kings and Caesars seek, but never yet have found.\\nXVI.\\nAnd then at eve behold him at his hearth,\\nPlanning the duties of the coming morn;\\nHow one shall wield the axe or spade the earth,\\nAnother s task to till the tender corn\\nAround him sit the peaceful household train\\nAnd he, by Nature s right, their guide and head.\\nThan this, what juster power, or glorious reign\\nThe lads marked well whate er the father said^\\nBy his experience taught, and by his wisdom led.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0080.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "THE HOME IN THE MOUNTAINS. d9\\nXVII.\\nAnd if at times the children leave their home,\\nIn village near, some little wealth to earn,\\nThe heart, imtraveled, hath no power to roam,\\nNor long the time which sees them all return.\\nFair shines their cottage to the mental sight,\\nAnd pleasures blossom in their mountain air.\\nScarce does the week resign its parting light.\\nWhen, with a love unchanged, they forth repair.\\nAnd hail their happy hearth, its wonted blessings share.\\nXVIII.\\nAnd thus in solitude, yet not alone.\\nThey have their joys and duties day by day\\nTo them unchanging Honor s path is known,\\nThough shut from noisy Glory s towering way.\\nTheir feelings deep; if pensive, yet sincere;\\nAnd when they meet, poured through each other s mind,\\nIn answering smiles, or sympathizing tear\\nWith power too great for outward forms to bind,\\nAnd pure as they are strong, though not by art refined.\\nXIX.\\nAnd on some pleasant days, in shaded walks.\\nThey wander far, when hills and woods are green\\nAround them is the voice of joyful flocks.\\nAnd flowers, and sounding waters grace the scene.\\nYes, there are those, the pure and high of soul,\\nWhose passions, by a Holy Power subdued,\\nAre won to virtue s wise and just control\\nAnd such, though deemed in outward manners rude.\\nShall drink, from Nature s works, the beautiful and good.\\n6", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0081.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "70 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXX.\\nAnd Nature is to them a living thing,\\nFood to the heart and beauty to the eye\\nThe hill, the mossy tree, the bubbling spring.\\nThe bud, the flower, the Autumn s mellow sky,\\nAwake the moral thought and sympathy.\\nThe bird goes singing up, its joy revealing;\\nThe gilded insect passes buzzing by\\nThe quiet bee, o er beds of flowerets stealing\\nAll share their joyful eye, all wake their better feeling.\\nXXI.\\nThose, whom religious life hath given to know\\nThe right, the pure, the honest, and the fair,\\nHave a new power. In all above, below,\\nIn heaven and earth, the waters and the air,\\nThere s a new glow of beauty. God s revealed;\\nThe high, entranced eye of Faith can see,\\n(No longer by the earth s dim shadows sealed,)\\nTne bright eff*ulgence of the Deity,\\nThe glory now that is, the greater that shall be.\\nXXII.\\nThat glory shines in every planet s ray;\\nT is sounding forth in every blessed rill\\nUpon the winged winds it makes its way.\\nO er blooming valley, and o er frowning hill\\nAnd sends its light from all creation round.\\nIn rural scenes, from polished arts afar,\\nWhere Faith in all its holy power is found,\\nIt shines with nought its lustre that may mar.\\nEnthroned in life and heart, the favorite guiding star.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0082.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life\\n(hi.) the winter evening.\\n[The Winter Evening constitutes in the Farmer s life, more\\ntruly and emphatically than in the life of any other class of per-\\nsons, a period by itself, a select season, a portion of time, known\\nand recognized by its distinctive traits, and blessed with its pecul-\\niar pleasures. It is a season of the year, when there is, to a\\nconsiderable extent, a relaxation from that constant toil, which\\noccupies him in the more genial months. He is at home, in the\\nbosorn of his family and in the exercise and interchange of\\ndomestic feelings enjoys a degree of humble happiness, which the\\nwealthy and luxurious have but little conception of. We have\\nhere, therefore, a distinct and interesting subject, which, poetry,\\ncoming from a heart that can understand and fully sympathize\\nwith rural life, may properly and successfully adopt as its own.]\\nI.\\nThe summer s fading flowers have passed awa),\\nAnd wintry snows invest the frozen ground\\nAnd now, when closes fast the setting day,\\nThe silent stars resume their nightly round\\nAnd bright, emerging from her depths profound,\\nThe placid moon adorns the central sky.\\nOh, Winter Eve The muse at length shall sound,\\nLong wont on other themes her skill to try,\\nHer notes, as well she may, in fitting praise of thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0083.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "72 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE,\\nII.\\nThe winds are hushed, and all around is calm\\nScarce on the cold blue heavens is seen a cloud\\nNor sudden rains nor storms, with rude alarm,\\nCome forth with meteor glooms the earth to shroud.\\nProne in their quiet folds the sheep are bowed\\nThe teamster drives abroad and o er the way,\\nWith clear, shrill bells, resounding oft and loud,\\nThe well-wrapped traveler guides his rapid sleigh,\\nAnd merry cracks his whip, or sings his rustic lay.\\nIII.\\nAnd see! Along the glassy river s face.\\nOn skates swift-gliding, or perchance without,\\nThe village lads each other gaily chase.\\nAnd rising loud, the oft repeated shout\\nOf those, who tire their boon companions out,\\nOr pass them in the race, bursts to the sky.\\nAnon, while distant whirls the giddy rout.\\nSome neighbor lads their wits at jesting try\\nSome tell a jocund tale, some laugh out merrily.\\nIV.\\nE en winter has its charms. How pure the glow.\\nThat decks the pensive brow of evening s queen t\\nThe spotless hills, adorned in robes of snow,\\nAscend in light and loveliness serene.\\nFar in the tranquil distance may be seen\\nThe hoary forests and the mountain pile.\\nShut to the door The outer air is keen\\nAnd neath the cottage roof repose awhile.\\nWhere, round its joyous hearth, the happy inmates smile.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0084.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "THE WINTER EVENING. 73\\nV.\\nThe fire is blazing with the crackling trees\\nUpon the walls the dancing shadows play\\nWithout, is heard the sudden winter breeze,\\nAnd then more close they gird the hearth s bright ray.\\nThe aged Father s there. His locks of gray,\\nIn many a twine, are round his shoulders spread.\\nHis eye beams not, as in his earlier day,\\nWhen strength and buoyant youth inspired his tread\\nYet pleasant are the joys his age doth round him shed.\\nVI.\\nFor oft to fondly listening ears he traced,\\nHow, in his youth, in distant lands and new,\\nHe smote the soil, the rocks and woods displaced,\\nUntil the desert to a garden grew.\\nAnd much he told, (for much forsooth he knew,)\\nHow best to rear the sheep or lowing herd.\\nOf what in spring and autumn months to do\\nAnd to his serious mind it oft occurred.\\nTo mingle, as he spake, the monitory word.\\nVII.\\nHis prompt and careful wife seemed made of fire,\\nFor, round and round, she plied her rapid wheel\\nShe knew not at her daily task to tire,\\nAnd scarce the withering touch of age did feel.\\nWhile others pressed the couch, with wakeful zeal,\\nSoon as the early note of chanticleer,\\nHeard from the neighboring barn, renewed its peal,\\nShe called aloud the starting maidens hear.\\nAnd hasten to their work, ere morning gleams appear.\\n6*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0085.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "74 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nVIII.\\nA dweller here, the sturdy ditcher Tims,\\nTrue to his spade, though crowned with tresses gray\\nHe, on the settle, throws his weary limbs,\\n(As well he might, who toilsome spends the day,)\\nAnd bids in rustic dreams his cares away.\\nAnd there was one he was an Orphan lad,\\nWho came at first in tears and mean array.\\nBut generous friendship made his bosom glad,\\nAnd here Dick toiled by day, and here his dwelling had.\\nIX.\\nNor these alone were there a numerous race,\\nTo filial love and deeds of reverence true.\\nGraced from their early days their dwelling-place,\\nAnd humble arts and household duties knew.\\nAnd often, when their daily task was through,\\nAnd evening s shadows darkened in the air,\\nAround the hearth the sons and daughters drew\\nOf looms and distaffs these, (whate er their care,)\\nThose spake of huntings, wilds, and mountains drear and\\nbare.\\nX.\\nIf angry storms have o er the mountains broke.\\nAnd deluged wide the fields with sudden rain\\nIf lightnings, redly winged, have rent the oak.\\nThat mighty stood, the monarch of the plain\\nIf fierce the sullen wolf hath come again.\\nWith bloody thoughts, and ready to destroy\\nThese, too, (nor deem their humble converse vain,\\nRecurring oft, may well their thoughts employ.\\nAnd fill the social hours with sorrow or with joy.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0086.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "THE WINTER EVENING. 75\\nXI.\\nPerhaps they listen to some ancient tale,\\n(What land cannot its legends rude recall\\nWhich tells of other days of grief and wail,\\nAnd sudden bids the generous tear-drop fall.\\nPerchance more recent themes their minds enthral,\\nThemes, that are sad with deep domestic woe\\nAs when but lately, though adorned with all\\nThat worth could give, or beauty s charms bestow,\\nThe mountain maid they loved, was in the grave laid low.\\nXII.\\nHark scarcely noticed, doth the noiseless door.\\nUnfolding soft, invite a stranger in\\nA daughter of the oft-neglected poor,\\nBut she hath virtues that exalt and win.\\nThey grasp her hand, as if she were their kin,\\nTheir hearts, their hopes congenial with her own.\\nSoon other joys and other tales begin\\nThe rural news is round the hearth made known\\nAnon the darker scenes, which memory drew, are flown.\\nXIII.\\nAnd well the maiden merited their praise.\\nAs pleased they listened to her simple tone\\nFar in the wilds, t is true, she spent her days,\\nAccomplished well in rural arts alone.\\nBut none the less her sylvan beauty shone.\\nAnd guileless honor crowned her virgin heart.\\nAh, little to the busy world are known\\nThe virtue and the bliss that dwell apart,\\nFar from the crowded hall, and place of polished art.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0087.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "76 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIV.\\nDick in his corner sits with wondering gaze\\nAttentive he, though seldom heard to speak\\nUpon his hand his lazy chin he stays,\\nDistending wide his plump and steadfast cheek.\\nDespite his quiet aspect, rude yet meek.\\nHe loves the song and merry tale to hear\\nAnd, slow the pleasant couch of rest to seek,\\nThough not unused to wearying toil severe.\\nHe sometimes loudly laughs, and sometimes sheds the tear.\\nXV.\\nPlaced in the great arm-chair, the Grandam sitting,\\nIn decent cap, with spectacles astride.\\nOld as she is, she still is at her knitting\\nAnd, though by age and many sorrows tried,\\nIs ever last to lay her work aside.\\nThe little Lizy, bright as flowers of spring,\\nAnd noisy, too, as birds in summer s pride.\\nYields to the common joy her offering.\\nThe faggots blaze anew, the bubbling kettles sing.\\nXVI.\\nAnd oft the evening s merry sports go round\\nIn games, repeated long with fervent will.\\nThe simple board with autumn s fruits is crowned\\nPerchance some vagrant minstrel adds his skill.\\nMeantime, (who else the vacant rack shall fill?)\\nDoth honest Dick go forth the herd to feed\\nAnd whistling loud, with Rover at his heel,\\nWho ever follows at his master s need.\\nHe thinks of stalking ghosts, or some mysterious deed.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0088.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "THE WINTER EVENING. 77\\nXVII.\\nAnd now, when skies are clear and toils are done,\\n(And may that ancient custom long abide,)\\nWith joyous hearts, united all as one,\\nIn ready sleigh, the youth and maidens glide.\\nThey seek the plains they climb the hillock s side\\nWell pleased, they praise the splendors of the night.\\nThe stars, that give the galaxy its pride,\\nThe overhanging cliffs in robes of white.\\nThe chaste, unclouded moon, that sheds o er all her light.\\nXVIII.\\nThe cracking thong, the tramp, the bells rude chime.\\nThe owl have frightened from his leafless bower,\\nWhere hooting oft at midnight s witching time,\\nHis song has added terror to that hour.\\nThey pass the forests wide, that proudly tower\\nThe wild deer lifts his arching head to hear.\\nHigh on his cliffs. Dreading the hunter s power,\\nThe hare starts suddenly away with fear,\\nThen crouching to the ground, erects his sentinel ear.\\nIX.\\nFar other v/as the night, whose whirlwinds loud\\nTossed through the troubled air the restless snow\\nDarkly on high went forth the angry cloud.\\nAnd breaking forests uttered sounds of woe.\\nRemote, alone, with footsteps faint and slow,\\nThat night a hunter did his way pursue.\\nCold o er his track, the stormy tempests blow\\nNo cot was near, his strength that might renew\\nHis hands to ice congealed his cheeks to marble grew.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0089.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "78 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXX.\\nSad victim of the storm and weary way,\\nHe bowed his head, like one that soon shall die,\\nFor life was breaking from its house of clay,\\nAnd light was stealing from his glassy eye.\\nAnd yet he had a home, a wife, and nigh\\nHis cheerful hearth, were lovely children twain.\\nNo more their heads shall on his bosom lie,\\nNo more he ll press their ruddy lips again.\\nCold is the hunter s breast upon the distant plain.\\nXXI.\\nBut whither bends the muse her wayward flight.\\nIndulging thus in solemn minstrelsy\\nT is true, when winter spreads o er earth its blight.\\nAnd rends its bloom and fruit from field and tree.\\nThat songs of joy may uncongenial be\\nSuch as would suit, when birds are on the wing,\\nAnd leaf and flower are shining laughingly.\\nAnd yet, though sad, she will not cease to sing,\\nBut ever, full of life, her various tribute bring.\\nXXII.\\nThen rouse the fire the moon is watching yet\\nAnd chanticleer his midnight cry delays.\\nThough others, pleased with modern things, forget,\\nOld Tims, at least, shall tell of other days.\\nT is pleasant, seated round the evening blaze,\\nIn Fancy s eye, the wonders to review\\nOf chieftains of the lost, the native race.\\nAnd memory yet her efforts shall renew.\\nAnd Passaconaway* sketch with tints and honors due.\\nSee the note, which belongs here, on the next page.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0090.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "THE WINTER EVENING. 79\\nXXIII.\\nSon of the forest Child of deathless fame\\nIf wond rous deeds a deathless name can win\\nWho bore aloft, where er in wrath he came,\\nThe club, that oft had made the battle thin,\\nAnd fearless raised the war-cry s dreadful din.\\nAround his painted neck terrific hung.\\nWith dangling claws, a huge and shaggy skin\\nThe curious fish-bones o er his bosom swung,\\nAnd oft the Sachem danced, and oft the Sachem sung.\\nXXIV.\\nStrange man A tenant of the dusky wood.\\nThe cave, the mountain, and the tangled glen,\\nHe roused the hissing serpent, and pursued\\nThe angry bear, and slew him in his den.\\nO er craggy cliffs, the dread of other men.\\nThe eagle s solitary home he sought.\\nAnd sternly tamed his mighty wing, and then\\nO ertook the tall gray moose, as quick as thought.\\nAnd then the mountain cat he chased, and chasing caught.\\nThis is the name of a disiin^uished Indian Sachem, residing\\nat the place known by the Indian name of Penacook, whose do-\\nminions, chiefly upon the banks of the Merrimack and Piscatawa\\nriversjwere very extensive. He excelled the other Sachems, says\\nBelknap, in his history of New Hampshire, Vol .1, chap. 5, in sa-\\ngacity, duplicity, and moderation but his principle qualification\\nwas his skill in some of the secret operations of nature, which gave\\nhim the reputation of a sorcerer, and extended his fame and influ-\\nence among all the neighboring tribes. They believed that it was\\nin his power to make water burn, and trees dance, and to meta-\\nmorphose himself into a flame that in winter he could raise a\\ngreen leaf from the ashes of a dry one, and a living serpent from\\nthe skin of one that was dead.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0091.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "80 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXXV.\\nAnd often o er Seogee s* thick-ribbed ice,\\nWith fiercely howling wolves, trained three and three,\\nHigh seated on a sledge, made in a trice\\nOf bones and skins and fitly shapen tree.\\nHe rode sublime, and sung right jollily.\\nAnd once upon a car of living fire.\\nThe dreadful Indian shook with fear to see\\nThe King of Penacook, his chief, his sire,\\nBorne flaming up towards heaven, than any moimtain\\nhigher,\\nXXVI.\\nThus ever hath the muse a mingled note.\\nSuch as all places and all times will suit.\\nIn summer s winds her numbers gently float,\\nBreathed soft as sound of siahinsf lover s lute,\\nAll gentleness, with stormy passions mute.\\nBut when strong winter comes with maddening strife,\\nAroused, she lays aside her shepherd s flute,\\nAnd takes the shrilling trump, the martial fife,\\nAnd sounds the stormy notes of wild, mysterious life.\\nXXVII.\\nThose youthful days are gone And with them fled\\nThe scenes, the sports, that soothed my simple heart\\nYet still those scenes their genial ray shall shed.\\nTo charm the careless hour, to soothe the smart\\nOf disappointment s sting and sorrow s dart.\\nOft will I muse, and shed the willing tear.\\nO er the loved plains, whence fortune bade me part.\\nRecall the happy faces once so dear.\\nRecall the Winter Eve, and all its social cheer.\\nThe Lake Winnipisseogee in New Hampshire.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0092.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life.\\n(iV.) THE COTTAGE REVISITED.\\n[It is well known, that every year a large number of persons,\\nespecially from the agricultural class, leave the Northern States of\\nthe Republic, for the purpose of making a settlement in the new\\nand more fertile lands of the West. They seldom, however, lose\\nthat strong attachment, which they had previously cherished, for\\nthe place of their nativity. It is the object of the following Poem,\\nto describe the feelings of one of this class of persons at his return,\\nafter many years, to his father s house.]\\nI.\\nWhen one returneth from a distant land,\\nWhere he hath been in pilgrimage afar,\\nAnd seeks once more with wandering foot to stand\\nBeneath the brightness of his country s star,\\nIt is with beating heart and joyful eyes,\\nHe views the long remembered scenes again,\\nThe mountains far, ascending to the skies.\\nThe verdant hills more near, the flowering plain,\\nThe willow shaded stream, the fields of golden graiw.\\n7", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0093.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "82 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nII.\\nThe cottage maids their spinning-wheel delay^\\nAnd from the window look with well-pleased eye\\nAnd gray-haired men, that sit beside the way,\\nArise to bless him, as he passes by.\\nHe finds, as round he casts his gladdened look,\\nThe friendly Welcome Home in every thing;\\nIn ancient elms, and in the well-known brook,\\nIn vines, that o er the talking waters cling.\\nAnd from the singing birds, that clap the joyful wing.\\nIII.\\nI too have been a Pilgrim. On the shore\\nOf wide Ohio I had cast my lot\\nBut, while I trimmed my vine and plucked my store,\\nMy childhood s dwelling-place was ne er forgot.\\nI ever deemed the time would come at last.\\nThough cast upon a far and venturous track,\\nTo take my staff, as in the days long past,\\nAnd to my father s cottage travel back.\\nWhere yet he lives and toils, upon the Merrimack.*\\nThis beautiful river, (the Merrimack,) one of the principal in\\nNew England, has its rise among the mountains and lakes of New\\nHampshire, and after a long and winding course empties into the\\nocean at Newburyport, in Massachusetts. Through its whole\\nlength its shores are occupied by a hardy and industrious people,\\nchiefly of the agricultural class. The population has become so\\ndense, however, that frequently the younger members of families\\nfind it convenient to emigrate to the Western parts of the Union.\\nBut here, as in other similar instances, the residence of their fath-\\ners, on this delightful stream, is still the home of their hearts.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0094.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "THE COTTAGE REVISITED. 83\\nIV.\\nThat time hath come. With grateful heart I hear\\nThe sounding river with its waters wide.\\nSweetly its heavy murmur strikes mine ear,\\nBorne through the oaks, that crown its verdant side.\\nThe golden day reveals its parting glow\\nAnd where yon window, with its flickering light,\\nDim through the interposing woods doth show,\\nThat cluster round the gently rising height.\\nAt last my father s home repays my straining sight.\\nV.\\nThe watchful dog patrols the narrow track,\\nThat joins the household to the public road\\nHe barks aloud, then playful hastens back,\\nAs if to guide me to that loved abode.\\nThe patient ox comes weary from the hill\\nThe tinkling sheep-fold bell is sounding near\\nSudden I hear the nightly whippoorwill\\nThe cheerful cottage window shines more clear\\nAnd mingling sounds, well known, rejoice my wakeful ear.\\nVI.\\nAnd see What venerable form is there\\nT is he, my father s self surviving yet.\\nBefore his cottage door, with temples bare.\\nHe thoughtful marks the sun s resplendent set.\\nWith beating heart his doubting eye I claimed\\nHe gave a startled, momentary view\\nBut ere his faltering tongue his wanderer named.\\nMy arms, impatient, round his neck I threw.\\nNor could the gushing tear, and voice of joy subdue.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0095.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "84 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nVII.\\nAnd thou, he said, hast found me, ere I die;\\nWelcome to your old father s arms, my son\\nWhite is my head, and dim my aged eye\\nBut thou hast cheered me ere my race is run.\\nThen quickly, with a heart relieved from care,\\nAnd vigorous step, he hastened on before;\\nHis aged tresses swept the evening air;\\nAnd as he reached his hand, and oped the door,\\nHe bade me welcome back, to friends and home once more.\\nVIII.\\nThat moment was beyond the Poet s pen,\\nA moment of the heart, and graven there.\\nThere sat my father, most revered of men\\nThere sat my mother in her spacious chair.\\nBright beamed the fire and round its cheerful blaze\\nTwo little brothers, full of noisy joy,\\nT was thus with me in other distant days,)\\nRecalled the time, when I too was a boy.\\nAnd loved in childish sports the moments to employ.\\nIX.\\nAnd as I scanned each object o er and o er,\\nAnd marked with care the venerable place,\\nIn wall and window, beam and sanded floor,\\nThe signs and records of the past I trace.\\nThey seemed like old companions and mine eyes,\\nLike one in search of treasures under ground,\\nWho sods, and rocks, and gaping crevice tries,\\nRenewed their searching glances round, and round,\\nTill all the past revived, in mingling sight and sound.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0096.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "THE COTTAGE REVISITED. 86\\nX.\\nThe same capacious hearth, expanding wide,\\nThe spacious kettle on its length of crane,\\nThe settle, stationed at the chimney side,\\nJust as in other times, they all remain.\\nSubstantial all, as they were wont to be.\\nAffecting sight To me they all were dear,\\nSince all were consecrate in memory.\\nThe massy oaken chair is standing near\\nAnd pleased, the ticking of the eight-day clock I hear.\\nXI.\\nMy mother had unnumbered things to say,\\nAnd, as she spoke, alternate wept and smiled\\nChanged was her face, her scattered locks were gray,\\nBut still she loved, the same, her pilgrim child.\\nWell pleased she saw, while often to the heart\\nTheir hopeless blightings time and distance bring.\\nThe love of childhood s home doth ne er depart,\\nBut like some flower, which blooms with endless spring,\\nRepels the Autumn s frost, the Winter s withering.\\nXII.\\nSlowly have passed the long, the twenty years,\\nSince first I parted from this social fire\\nSad was the hour, and many were the tears,\\nBut hope was high, and strength of purpose higher.\\nBut here, at last, I stand once more, and find\\nOld objects faithful to their ancient place\\nAnd where the form is changed, unchanged the mind.\\nIf lapse of years hath plucked some outward grace,\\nYet could it not the heart, the fount of love, displace.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0097.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "86 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIII.\\nBut who is this with form so tall and fair,\\nA woman grown, and yet in beauty s prime,\\nWith kindling eye, and darkly flowing hair\\nThe same, the cherished one, whom many a time,\\nI carried in mine arms, and loved so much\\nWho went with me o er hill and ridgy steep,\\n(I fondly thought there was no other such,)\\nTo call the cows, and tend the gentle sheep.\\nAnd ever at my side did, prattling, love to keep.\\nXIV.\\nLoved sister Mary Give me one caress.\\nSacred to memory and other years\\nThe generous maid cannot her soul repress.\\nBut sought my arms, and bathed her face in tears.\\nNor deem it wrong, if heaven may aught bestow,\\nTo pray for blessings on that radiant head.\\nFor me, alas Such bliss I ne er shall know,\\nAs when abroad her childish steps I led.\\nAmid the vernal year, or blooms that summer shed.\\nXV.\\nSwift spread the news of my unlocked return,\\nAnd called with busy haste the neighbors in\\nThey grasp my hand, and eagerly would learn,\\nWhat I have seen, and where so long have been.\\nSome were young girls, to woman s beauty grown\\nSome were old men, who looked no older now;\\nSome were young lads, whom at the school I d known,\\nBat now, erect with manhood s ample brow.\\nThey bore the sinewy arm, that rules the spade and plough.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0098.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "THE COTTAGE REVISITED. 87\\nXVI.\\nIf they of distant scenes desired to learn,\\nAnd bent with eager gaze my tale to hear,\\nI too, with heart as eager, asked in turn.\\nOf scenes that nearer lay, but doubly dear.\\nFull many were the thoughts, that filled my mind,\\nOf sylvan sights, that once delighted me\\nNor was the heartfelt pleasure small to find.\\nOf hills and brooks, of fields and favorite tree.\\nSo closely like the past, the present history.\\nXVII.\\nStill flowed my loved, my native stream and o er\\nIts solitary path hung arching still\\nThe same luxuriant vine. The beech still bore\\nIts tempting nuts, where I was wont to fill\\nMy eager hands, when, at the sun s decline,\\nI trod the vales, the errant flocks to call.\\nStill built the crow upon the ancient pine\\nAnd where the oak o erspread the waterfall.\\nThe squirrel watched his hoard, and kept his airy hall.\\nXVIII.\\nAnd oft I asked, with sympathy sincere.\\nWho yet were living, who had sunk to rest?\\nWhom fortune in her smiles had come to cheer.\\nOr, deep in poverty and grief, depressed\\nWhere were the lads, whose pleasures ever new\\nAt early eve resounded long and loud\\nAnd where the men, so gravely stern and true.\\nStrong in their aged locks, the fields that ploughed.\\nThough now perchance gone hence, or sorrowfully bowed", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0099.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "88 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIX.\\nThe sturdy miller, had he still his jest,\\nAs rough and honest, as in days of yore\\nAnd poor, decrepid Jenks, among the rest,\\nDid he still beg his bread from door to door\\nAnd she, with scrutinizing features old.\\nThat sought into the maiden s palm to pry.\\nHath she her last, prophetic legend told?\\nThus went inquiry round, in converse high,\\nAnd heart leaped forth to heart, and kindling eye to eye.\\nXX.\\nAnd now the eve was far advanced and dim.\\nAnd closing round the fire, as in my youth,\\nWe reverently sung the Evening Hymn,\\nAnd then my father read the Word of Truth.\\nThe sight of that Old Bible moved my heart,\\nAnd stirred anew the scarcely sleeping tears.\\nFrom childhood, till the morn that saw me part,\\nI ever knew it, clasped, and dark with years,\\nAt morn and eve brought forth, to wake our hopes and\\nfears.\\nXXI.\\nAnd then he offered up the Evening Prayer,\\nPoured from a humble, reverential breast\\nNot the mere show of truth and love was there,\\nThe heart acknowledged what the lips expressed.\\nHe uttered thanks, that, ere his days were passed,\\nHe saw, save one that mouldered in the earth,\\n(Too bright that loved one s joyful beam to last,)\\nHis scattered children gathered to his hearth.\\nThus God his people loves nor scorns their humble worth.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0100.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "THE COTTAGE REVISITED.\\nXXIL\\nThere are some men, that make a scoff at prayer,\\nAt early morn, or at the close of day.\\nAh, little do they know, how grief and care\\nBefore true supplication melt away.\\nHow pleasant t is, when sorrows pierce the heart.\\nTo tell them to our heavenly Father s ear\\nHe plucks with gentle hand the hostile dart,\\nAnd, even when he looks with frown severe.\\nIs ever prompt to bend, his children s griefs to hear.\\nXXHI.\\nAt morning s light I held my pensive track\\nWhere scattered elms and mourning willows grew,\\nAlong the deeply-sounding Merrimack.\\nA little hillock met my anxious view\\nT was my loved Lucy s grave, my sister s grave,\\nHer grassy turf and monumental stone.\\nNought but the sympathizing woods and wave\\nBeheld my bitter grief, and heard my moan\\nT was good to shed the tear t was good to be alone.\\nXXIV.\\nHow oft around the hearth, the eve before,\\nI cast my eyes, but saw no Lucy near\\nShe was not named, lest naming should restore\\nThe mournful memory, the bitter tear.\\nShe was the sister next to me in age.\\nCompanion of my walks, with me she took,\\nAlong the hills, her summer pilgrimage.\\nOr climbed the rocks, or sought the shaded brook,\\nThat in its mirror bright gave back her maiden look.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0101.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "90 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXXV.\\nTogether to the distant school we went,\\nAnd when the snows perplexed the doubtful way,\\nThe helping hand to guide her forth I lent,\\nWell pleased my skill and courage to display.\\nAnd often with a kind solicitude,\\nWhen weary I returned from plough or spade.\\nShe wiped my heated brow, and brought my food,\\nAnd in her smiles and sylvan grace arrayed.\\nMore than a brother s care, a brother s love repaid.\\nXXVI.\\nMary and Lucy Those were household names,\\nThat messages to joyous fancy brought.\\nAnd urged upon my heart their sacred claims,\\nWhatever lands my wandering footsteps sought.\\nThey were my only sisters. One is gone\\nAnd though a sister lives to bless me yet,\\nThat other star, which o er my pathway shone,\\nBeneath the ocean wave, its ray is set.\\nBut never shall this heart, this mourning heart forget.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0102.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life.\\n(v.) THE WIDOW AND HER CHILDREN.\\nThe Lord ray pasture shall prepare,\\nAnd feed me with a shepherd s care\\nHis presence shall my wants supply,\\nAnd guard me with a watchful eye.\\nAddison.\\nI.\\nDown by yon gentle stream, whose curling flow\\nBrightens beneath the hillock s calm ascent,\\nA cottage stands. Before its day of woe,\\nFlowers bloomed around, and where the forest sent\\nIts waving branches towards the firmament,\\nNot distant far, were heard loud-spoken joys,\\nWhich came, what time the setting sun was spent\\nBeneath the gnarled oak from bright-eyed boys\\nBut now the flower is dim, and silent grief annoys.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0103.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "92 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nII.\\nYea, I remember well Three years are gone,\\nAnd it was last of autumn woods were sear.\\nAnd oft November s gusty blasts came on,\\nWhirling the leaves in air with sport severe\\nT was then with sauntering footsteps I drew near.\\nEntering the white-washed walls. And all below\\nThat cottage roof did to mine eyes appear.\\nFar from pollution s blight and touch of woe\\nThere, hearts with hope are glad, and cheeks with pleasure\\nglow.\\nIII.\\nThe meek-eyed sheep grazed near the running wave\\nThe noisy geese proud o er her bosom rowed\\nAs mindful of the care the farmer gave,\\nTheir annual gifts of wool his flock bestowed\\nSlowly the cow returned, and loudly lowed\\nTo call the maiden from the cottage door.\\nAnd yield into her pail the milky load\\nThe cow, the friend and favorite of the poor.\\nThat gives them great content, if they have nothing more.\\nIV.\\nThe cottager, who wrought with arm not slack,\\nCheerful, now laid aside his axe and spade.\\nAnd from his field s rude boundary came back.\\nThe sun sunk low, and with the evening shade.\\nThe day was darkly closed. Sweet pause was made\\nTo toils with each new morn returning still.\\nNor longer then in prank and sport delayed\\nTwo laughing boys. They, whistling o er the hill.\\nDirect their footsteps home, with joy their cot to fill.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0104.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE WIDOW AND HER CHILDREN. 93\\nV.\\nTheir days were days of labor; yet not this\\nCould render them unhappy. They could see\\nDuty in toil, which changed that toil to bliss.\\nContented thus they lived. They knew, that He,\\nA friend to the believing poor would be,\\nWho feeds the raven, gives the flower its bloom.\\nI looked around and in their poverty,\\nThe marks of household labor graced the room\\nHere hung the skeins of yarn there stood the wheel and\\nloom.\\nVI.\\nKind family That ever warmly pressed\\nStranger or friend, his hour that with them spent,\\nFreely to share whatever they possessed\\nFruits of the wild and garden they present.\\nWith heart sincere, no feigned sentiment.\\nAnd happy in their goodness, smiles declare,\\nWhich pleasure to their dimpled features lent,\\nThat they were well rewarded for their care.\\nWhen friend or stranger took such as the poor could spare.\\nvn.\\nThey were not happy always for the storm,\\nWhich threatens all, hath beat upon the brow,\\nAnd brought unto the dust the manly form.\\nThe father, husband, friend Where is he now\\nThere came a sickness on him, which did bow\\nThe vigor of his strength, and dim his eye.\\nAlas our life is like a flower and how,\\nHow speedily shall all the living die.\\nAnd in the common dust in equal lowness lie\\n8", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0105.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "94 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nVIII.\\nAnd she most patiently, whose faithful heart\\nWas bound to his in wedlock s sacred band,\\nIn toil and watching showed the duteous part.\\nDay followed day she still was seen to stand\\nBeside his pillow, with assisting hand.\\nBut all her tender arts could not avail\\nTo hold him from the grave s oblivious land.\\nThe living went with weeping and with wail,\\nAnd buried low his dust down in the green-wood vale.\\nIX.\\nNor this the sum of sadness in her lot,\\nMore desert still shall be her lone abode\\nOrphans, and poor, her children leave her cot,\\nCast out, unguided, on life s stormy road.\\nThe evening hearth, where oft they gathered, glowed\\nBright with the blaze the burning logs dispense.\\nHere were they wont to meet, and friendship flowed\\nWarm from each heart, and joy filled every sense\\nBut now their father s dead, and they must hasten hence.\\nX.\\nThe flower, that graced their fields, no more shall bloom,\\nThe vine shall droop, their art was wont to raise,\\nAnd from their cottage, dark with grief and gloom,\\nBe banished the delights of former days.\\nBut say, can absence or can toil erase\\nThe memory of each dear scene and friend 1\\nForgetfulness may other thoughts displace.\\nBut early days with after life shall blend,\\nGrow with our memory s growth, and with our being end.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0106.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "THE WIDOW AND HER CHILDREN. 95\\nXL\\nGone are the hours, vvhen first in youth s sweet time,\\nWith vagrant feet they wandered o er the hill\\nAnd when with rival zeal they loved to climb\\nThe rocks, that rose beside the noisy mill,\\nMarking the fall of waters, and the fill\\nOf pleasure came into their joyful heart.\\nSuch is our lot, of Providence the will\\nOh, Thou who sendest grief, support impart\\nProtect the orphans all the orphan s Friend thou art.\\nXII.\\nThe mourning daughters to the Factory went,\\nThat rears on high its massy stories tail,\\nWith noise of many looms in concert blent.\\nAnd wheels that loudly dash within its wall,\\nClose on the banks of darkling Salmon-Fall.\\nThither they walked on foot, and hand in hand\\nThey grieved to leave their mother, but their all\\nConsisted in some scanty roods of land,\\nAnd he was gone who ploughed they were an orphan\\nband.\\nXIII.\\nOne boy at home the widowed mother kept.\\nTo glean their little field, to bring the wood.\\nPiled in their cot at eve before they slept.\\nAnd cheer with filial love her solitude.\\nThe elder lad, more stout, in labor good,\\nO er whom had passed the sixteenth summer s beam.\\nSought, with a farmer near, a livelihood.\\nWith axe, and plough, and driving of his team.\\nThus sadly early joys departed like a dream.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0107.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "96 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXIV.\\nYe, who have watched o er guileless infancy.\\nAnd kindly rocked the cradle of its rest\\nYe, who have borne it on the patient knee,\\nNor less in riper years have loved, carest.\\nThan when upon your knee, or on your breast,\\nCan fitly tell, and you alone can tell,\\nHow sad the hour of parting How unblest\\nThe moment of the long, the long farewell\\nBut ere they left their home, these parting accents fell.\\nXV.\\nMy loved ones said the mother, (and the tear\\nOf sorrow twinkled in her widowed eye,)\\nYe are my charge. It rests, my children dear.\\nOn me alone. Ye saw your father die.\\nAnd low and still in dust his ashes lie\\nWe followed him together to his tomb.\\nFor you, my orphans, oft I heave the sigh\\nFor you with anxious toil I urge the loom.\\nFor you I pray at morn, and at deep midnight s gloom.\\nXVI.\\nI see you now, as in the seasons past.\\nHeaven only knows if we shall meet again\\nGreat were our joys, but they have faded fast\\nAnd yet, my children, we should not complain,\\nNor aught, that comes in Providence, arraign.\\nJehovah will our wants and griefs relieve.\\nIf we our souls in patience shall sustain.\\nLifting your thoughts to him, ye shall receive\\nGreat blessings from his hand and such he will not\\nleave.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0108.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "THE WIDOW AND HER CHILDREN. 97\\nXVII.\\nThus spake the mother. Many tears did fall.\\nHer orphan children to their masters went.\\nThe anxious parent bade them, one and all,\\nBe faithful in their work and be content.\\nOft little gifts her wanderers to her sent,\\nEarned by their daily toils for their true heart\\nWas never from their childhood s dwelling rent.\\nThe elder brother learns the farmer s art\\nIn Salmon-Fall the maids industrious act their part.\\nXVIII.\\nYe farmers see that ye, in virtue s school.\\nBring up all those, who fall unto your care\\nYe gentlemen, who o er our Factories rule\\nLet the poor orphan in your kindness share\\nThen shall they serve you well, and good prepare\\nBoth for themselves and others and your name\\nReceive the good man s smile, the poor man s prayer.\\nHow many thanks the virtuous soul may claim\\nSuch build upon a rock, and are not put to shame.\\n8*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0109.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life\\n(VI.) THE SNOW-STORM\\nChill airs, and wintry winds, my ear\\nHas grown familiar with your song\\nI hear it in the opening year\\nI listen and it cheers me long.\\nLongfellow.\\nI.\\nWhen feeble suns scarce light the wintry sky,\\nAnd clouds are drifting in the doubtful air,\\nThe pensive man, with expectation high,\\nForth to the window moves his easy chair.\\nObservant there, in pleased security.\\nRegaling, as he may, both eye and ear,\\nHe marks the frozen brook, the withered tree,\\nAnd loves, at frequent intervals, to hear\\nThe howling of the blast, that winds its summons drear.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0110.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "THE SNOW-STORM. 90\\n11.\\nThe pensive man, to thought and feeling prone,\\nInclined to sadness, but averse from sorrow,\\nIn silence sits, and loves to be alone,\\nAnd joy from inward contemplations borrow.\\nThus let me muse, nor do thou deem it strange,\\nThat it is given the sense of joy to find\\nFrom varying thoughts that unrestricted range,\\nLight and unfixed, as is the stayless wind,\\nPleased with the present scene, and to the future blind.\\nIII.\\nT is Winter, in its wild and angry mood\\nAnd as I look, behold, the clamorous crows.\\nScared by the uproar vast, in yonder wood.\\nRegain a shelter from the blast and snows.\\nWhere pines and firs their thick protection yield.\\nThere nestle they retired, nor heed the cry\\nFrom muffled owl, in hollow trunk concealed.\\nHid in the twisted roots, w^ith fearful eye.\\nThe w^ary fox beholds the tempest hurrying by.\\nIV.\\nForth from the wood the Avood-cutter comes back\\nUpon his frosty beard the snow stands thick\\nHe looks with peering eye to find the track.\\nThen struggles on with panting breath and quick,\\nSeeking his home. Anon, a traveler s sleigh\\nGoes swift, with bells, that chime their stifled din.\\nBut he, who rides on such a stormy day,\\nWith aid of whip and voice, shall scarcely win.\\nSeen dimly in the drifts, the distant village Inn.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0111.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "100 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nV.\\nA refuge seeking from the surly winter,\\nThe red-breast comes, unto the window flying\\nWell pleased, haste to let the stranger enter,\\nAnd strive to keep the little thing from dying.\\nSee, how he hops abroad and picks the bread,\\nThe hospitable hand of childhood brings;\\nThen pausing, as in thought, erects his head,\\nAnd glances quick, and trims his little wings,\\nAnd with a sudden voice breaks gladly forth and sings.\\nVI.\\nUnmindful of the storm, the noisy cur\\nShakes his well powdered sides, and barks, and now,\\nA sharer in the elemental stir.\\nWith plunging head into the drift doth plough.\\nAnd upward throws around the feathery snow.\\nBut Dobbin such an hour s no sport for him.\\nWith ruminating head, depending low,\\nAnd half-shut eye, with gathered snow-flakes dim.\\nClose to the sheltering barn, he draws his quivering limb.\\nVIL\\nThe weary thresher lays aside his flail.\\nAnd shuts, like one amazed, his granary door;\\nNor else can do the winds his heaps assail,\\nAnd wheat and chaff fly wildly round the floor.\\nThe shades still darker wrap the rolling cloud.\\nAnd hurtling snows come rushing still more fast;\\nLow to the earth the groaning trees are bowed,\\nFrom rock and hill in headlong ruin cast.\\nThe village steeple waves and trembles in the blast.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0112.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "THE SNOW-STORM. 101\\nVIII.\\nAt such an hour let none adventurous roam.\\nDear to the heart, at such a time as this,\\nIs the security and peace of home.\\nThe blazing hearth and the domestic bliss.\\nSee, how the traveler scarce resists the storm\\nMark, how he strives along with fainting feet\\nAnd doomed, without the friendly welcome warm,\\nTo perish in its freezing winding-sheet\\nThen heap the favoring blaze, his weary steps to greet\\nix.\\nThe sun sets now and yet no sun doth rest\\nUpon the mount its golden orb of light.\\nDark clouds usurp his place and shades unblest\\nAnd moaning sounds the startled air affright.\\nIn yon lone cot the mother trims the blaze\\nThat through the window sends its nightly beam.\\nUnmoved by fears, that older hearts amaze,\\nThough fierce the snows invade each gaping seam,\\nThe children, gathering round, enclose its cheerful gleam.\\nX.\\nThe winds are rude, but they regard it not,\\nAnd laugh, as they were wont, and prattle loud;\\nProne on the floor, unconscious he of aught,\\nThe shaggy dog with closing eye is bowed.\\nThe cat doth in the corner sit demure\\nAnd as the crackling fire lights up the room.\\nThe housewife spreads the table of the poor.\\nOr plies with careful hand the busy broom,\\nOr doth her task once more, her wonted wheel resume.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0113.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "102 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXI.\\nSnug ill the corner doth her good man sit,\\nNor ever from his lazy settle moves\\nThe howling blast frights not his quiet wit,\\nBut stormy sounds and piping winds he loves.\\nHe, philosophic, chides at needless sorrow,\\nNor will he add to real, fancied ills.\\nBut looks in storms to-day for calms to-morrow.\\nThus fearful thoughts and low complaints he stills,\\nAnd ever and anon, his cheerful pipe he fills.\\nXII.\\nHappy the man, in winter s stormy hour.\\nWhen woods and plains with angry snows are strown,\\nWho is not doomed to feel their hostile powder,\\nBut hath a shelter he can call his own,\\nThe cheerful hearth, the amicable chair.\\nHe, with his gossip neighbors side by side,\\nSpreads cheerfully the peasant s homely fare.\\nThey deal the mutual jest. Then, venturing wide,\\nWith patriot zeal elate, the nation s fate decide.\\nXIII.\\nAh me On such a fearful time as this.\\nWhile we around the peaceful hearth are safe.\\nAnd in the warmth and glow of social bliss.\\nForget the winds against the house that chafe.\\nAnd at the door and windows threat in vain.\\nThe seamen on the overwhelming deep,\\nThe tenants of the loud and doubtful main.\\nCan scarce their stations on the vessel keep\\nSee, how they mount on high, then plunging down they\\nsweep.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0114.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "THE SNOW-STORM. 103\\nXIV.\\nAnon, a wave, with swift and thundering sway,\\nBears suddenly some sailor from the deck.\\nPoor man In the illimitable way,\\nThat foaming spreads around, he seems a speck.\\nNow sunk, now seen, now borne on high, now low,\\nHe smites the wave, like one that strikes for life\\nBut all in vain far downward doth he go\\nAnd as he yields at length the fearful strife,\\nHe dying thinks once more of children, home, and wife.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0115.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "American Cottage Life\\n(vil.) THANKSGIVING DAY.\\n[It is hardly necessary to remark, that Thanksgiving day is the\\nprincipal social and religious festival in New England and some\\nother of the United States. Occurring at the season of the year,\\nwhen the heart naturally rejoices in the various exhibitions of the\\nDivine goodness, hallowed by early recollections, and by religious\\ninfluences, it is welcomed by all classes. Some of the traits and\\nincidents which are characteristic of this interesting season, are\\nembodied in the following stanzas. But it may be proper to keep\\nin mind, that we have proposed to describe the humble and unpre-\\ntending Thanksgiving of those in rural life, rather than that of\\nthose, who move in what are sometimes considered the more ele-\\nvated circles.]\\nI.\\nBright is the early morn. With radiance clear\\nIts dewy light illumes the dusky wood.\\nThe neat, but humble mansion rises near,\\nEmbosomed in its leafy solitude.\\nThere doth the Farmer, far from public strife,\\nMid sheltered scenes, with sylvan beauty strown,\\nIn quiet independence pass his life\\nTo want, and all its bitter train, unknown,\\nAlthough by toil he gains whate er he calls his own.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0116.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING DAY. 105\\n11.\\nA plain New England ploughman true in word,\\nIn manners gentle, open-hearted, kind.\\nBut, though in noisy contest never heard,\\nHe bears a steadfast and judicious mind.\\nSoon as the morn its journey doth renew.\\nAnd scatters bright the rear of darkness thin,\\nIn distant fields his hands their task pursue\\nNor less at home the early cares begin\\nOf those who milk the cows, and those who gaily spin.\\nIII.\\nNor deem from toil that he hath no release\\nT is true, his bread by watchful care is won\\nBut with the coming eve his labors cease.\\nAnd he is happy when his work is done.\\nAnd once a year his brightly beaming hearth\\nShines brighter yet upon Thanksgiving day.\\nLoud sounds the merry voice of childhood s mirth,\\nWhile those of riper years, who live away.\\nReturning from afar, their annual visits pay.\\nIV.\\nBehold in chaise or wagon they appear.\\nApproaching glad their own, their native hill\\nWhere stands the home, to early childhood dear,\\nThe home, where deep affection lingers still.\\nOnce more, with beating heart, once more they see\\nThe scattered cottages, the pastures wide.\\nThe modest church, the overhanging tree,\\nThe distant forests, waving in their pride,\\nAnd all to memory dear, to early joys allied.\\n9", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0117.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "106 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nV.\\nHow strong the charm, when early life is new,\\nWhich binds itself to each familiar scene\\nThe humble school-house claims again their view,\\nUpon its solitary patch of green.\\nThere were they wont their childish skill to try.\\nThe birch still grew beside the aged door,\\nAnd thence the eager school-dame, passing by.\\nDetached the rod, which awfully she bore,\\nAs with laborious care she taught her simple lore.\\nVI.\\nWith gratulations oft and warm, they bless\\nEvery loved object which they recognize.\\nThe ancient orchard and its cider-press.\\nAnd slow-paced Dobbin greet again their eyes-\\nThey mark the ploughshare in the glebe it broke,\\nAnd as their eager gaze they round bestow.\\nThey praise the oxen, parted from the yoke.\\nThat graze the fields, as yet unclothed with snow.\\nAnd wake the echoes oft, with loudly uttered low.\\nVII.\\nAnd see, they turn again with kindling eye.\\nAnd hail the towering oaks expanding wide.\\nBeneath those oaks, when evening gilt the sky.\\nFull many a feat of speed and strength they tried.\\nNor, while their frequent glances they prolong.\\nDo they forget the stream, whose verdant shore\\nResounded loud with many a wild bird s song.\\nWith lusty arm they swam its waves of yore,\\nOr, borne in well-built boat, applied the vigorous oar.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0118.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING DAY. 107\\nVIII.\\nThe gray-haired father guides their steps around,\\nWell pleased to find that they do not forget\\nThat streams, and blooming woods, and cultured ground,\\nIn memory s fadeless page are brightly set.\\nAnd still, as they were wont, the soul can cheer.\\nAnd thus it is, that ever cherished well.\\nThanksgiving day, to youth and maiden dear.\\nOpes with its golden key the secret cell,\\nWhence o er the bounding heart unnumbered pleasures\\nswell.\\nIX.\\nTo-day, old men, that erst, o ercome with fears,\\nLow in the chimney corner bowed their head.\\nAre fired with life, as in their younger years.\\nThrow down the crutch, and move with sprightlier tread.\\nTo-day, the beggar, bidding care away,\\nWith firmer step invades the farmer s door.\\nAnd cheers himself, and sings his roundelay,\\nAs blest in heart, though miserably poor,\\nAs if he had a home, and countless wealth in store.\\nX.\\nJoy to the loved and lone Emilia too.\\nAn orphan, left to grief and early cares.\\nShe, at this happy time, as wont to do,\\nWith punctual visit, to her friends repairs\\nAnd welcomed by the farmer and his wife,\\nWith kindness, as befits a brother s child.\\nShe deemed these hours the bright ones of her life.\\nWhen, many a secret grief and toil beguiled.\\nHer mourning heart was cheered, as all around her smiled.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0119.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "108 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXI.\\nAnd soon around the fire they draw the chair,\\nAnd many a fond inquiry then is past\\nWhat trials and what griefs have been the share\\nOf each since they beheld each other last?\\nWho have been sick, and who been doomed to die\\nPerchance how Giles succeeds at his new trade\\nThe hopes and records of the nuptial tie\\nHow grew the corn, and how the wheaten blade,\\nAfter the havoc wild which the great tempest made\\nXIL\\nThe younger portion of the family,\\nAnd those, who visit them, of equal age,\\nPour forth the torrent of their childish glee\\nWhile others, older in their pilgrimage.\\nThe matrons sage and grandsires sitting by.\\nTheir sports with sympathetic gladness view.\\nThe scene brings back to memory s fruitful eye\\nThe days when they were young and thoughtless too.\\nAnd loved with busy zeal each pleasure to pursue.\\nXIII.\\nNow to the Public Worship all repair.\\nFor not by bread alone God s people live.\\nThe frequent villagers are gathering there,\\nA portion from the Bible to receive.\\nAnd raise with happy hearts the grateful song.\\nWhen streams, that from the rugged mountains roll,\\nWhen rocks and hills the note of praise prolong,\\nOh, shall not man, who ruleth o er the whole.\\nJoin in the strain divine, and lift the joyous soul", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0120.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING DAY. 109\\nXIV.\\nOh, t is most true, that Nature hath a voice,\\nAnd her Creator given her a tongue\\nThat through her mighty realms she doth rejoice,\\nAnd by her countless hosts his praise is sung.\\nThe little lambs give praise upon the hill.\\nThe little birds upon the flowering tree\\nThe bright, uncounted stars proclaim his will\\nThe moon, that walketh in her majesty\\nThou boundless, mighty God All nature s full of Thee.\\nXV.\\nBut chief thou dwellest with the heart contrite.\\nWith such as are of soul resigned and pure\\nFar in the lonely cot is thy delight.\\nWith the believing and religious poor.\\nThou ever hearest, when thine aid they ask\\nWhen sorrows throng them. Thou dost still befriend\\nAnd lest in vain should prove their daily task.\\nThe gentle rain and sunshine Thou dost send.\\nWith greater goods in store, when life s few days shall end.\\nXVI.\\nAnd now the massy tables are displayed,\\nWhere those shall meet, who ne er may meet again\\nThere children, cousins, neighbors are arrayed\\nThe cheerful beggar helps to swell the train.\\nThe board well-dressed is like the driven snow\\nTo grace it well the careful housewife tries\\nWhite are the plates in long and decent row\\nThe smoking puddings, and the pumpkin pies,\\nAnd roasted beef, look rich and goodly in her eyes.\\n9*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0121.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "110 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXVII.\\nHappy the man, who, when this day comes round,\\nCan think on cellars stored and garners filled;\\nThe honest product of the grateful ground,\\nHis own, and not another s hands have tilled.\\nHe dreads nor duns nor sheriffs at his gate.\\nNor fears in aught the snares for debtors spread.\\nBut with a heart serene, a step elate,\\nGoes forth, the sovereign of his rural shed.\\nYet never doth forget the Giver of his bread.\\nXVHI.\\nTo Him what reasons there exist for praise\\nHow many motives to a virtuous course\\nThe tide of good hath reached us all our days,\\nFull in its stream, exhaustless in its source.\\nOur cows and cornfields give us milk and meal\\nOur barns well-filled, nor small the cellar s store;\\nLoud sounds at eve the merry spinning-wheel\\nAnd when, perchance, the wintry storm sweeps o er.\\nWe have our own bright hearth. What could we wish\\nfor more\\nXIX.\\nOnce t was not so. In years, when he was young,\\nThe farmer tells of griefs, that are not now.\\nThe husbandmen, with muskets o er them slung,\\nIn danger and in watching held the plough.\\nSadly and slow the fearful moments sped.\\nFor savage men, athirst for blood, were nigh,\\nAnd when at eve they bowed the weary head,\\nThey knew not, but ere morn the warwhoop s cry\\nWould reach their lowly roof, and call them out to die.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0122.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING DAY. Ill\\nXX.\\nBut now contentment beams in every face\\nPeace in our dwellings, and stern war afar\\nNe er may it leave again its deadly trace,\\nAnd ne er again the scene of quiet mar.\\nInstead of spears the fruitful share we guide\\nInstead of swords the pruning-hook we wield\\nBeneath our own dear roof, the hearth beside,\\nCome, let us scan the claims of hill and field,\\nAnd learn what fits the sheep, and where the grain doth\\nyield.\\nXXI.\\nAnd thus to friendly converse they incline\\nThe farmer tells the time to plough and sow\\nWhile others speak of pastures, sheep, and kine.\\nOf summer s suns, or winter s drifting snow;\\nThe matrons grave discourse of loom and dairy;\\nApart, the hardy youth, as well they might,\\nBend, listening, to the songs of blue-eyed Mary.\\nThe Beggar had his jest, and with delight\\nThe rapid hours passed by, till sunset s golden flight.\\nXXII.\\nThe quiet eve hath come the evening star\\nRenews his bright, but solitary beam\\nThe moon, ascending in her silver car.\\nAgain diffuses o er the earth her gleam.\\nAnd now, before they seek the pillow s rest,\\nThe song, the mirth, and conversation s din\\nGive place to household worship, season blest.\\nThe good old man doth read the Word Divine,\\nAnd all, with reverent hearts, in supplication join.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0123.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "112\\nAMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXXIII.\\nThere was divine enchantment in his prayer\\nHis soul was touched, as if with heavenly fire.\\nHe, who in worldly things did hardly dare\\nTo lift his thoughts and conversation higher,\\nThan the poor marks of earth, and place, and time,\\nHis fields and herds, his fences and his plough,\\nFinds fitting words, and many a thought sublime,\\nWhene er in holy worship he doth bow.\\nAnd at Jehovah s throne his hope and faith avow.\\nXXIV.\\nHe giveth thanks, that, though another year\\nHath rolled away to dark eternity.\\nSo many of them live; so many here.\\nBeneath his roof, each other s faces see,\\nBut she, who graced the last Thanksgiving day,\\nThe child beloved, the daughter of his heart,\\nHis Sarah, is no more. And he doth pray.\\nThough sudden was the blow, and keen the smart.\\nThat they may humbly show submission s quiet part.\\nXXV.\\nHe pleadeth for himself, his children, wife.\\nHis supplication is, whate er their lot,\\nThat in the duties and the griefs of life.\\nTheir great Creator ne er may be forgot.\\nHe prays for one upon the ocean tost.\\nFor Joseph on the wide and boundless sea.\\nWhere many a helpless sailor lad is lost,\\nThat in Jehovah s favor he may be,\\nAnd with glad eyes again his native country see.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0124.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING DAY. 113\\nXXVI.\\nAnd then his mind to other themes awake,\\nWhich by the Christian volume have been taught,\\nA higher and a nobler flight doth take,\\nAnd up to heavenly mansions lifts its thought\\nUpon celestial hills his soul doth stand.\\nThere shine the angel ranks, supremely bright.\\nWith starry crowns, and happy harps in hand\\nAnd there in those abodes of blessed delight.\\nWhen sinks the world in fire, shall all Christ s friends\\nunite.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0125.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "Ballads aud Songs.\\nDEATH OF COLONEL HAYNE.\\n[Colonel Isaac Hayne, of South Carolina, was a valuable and\\ndistinguished officer of the Revo! u lion. He was taken prisoner by\\nthe British, under the command of Lord Rawdon and though\\ngreat interest was made in his behalf, both by Englishmen and\\nAmericans, he was executed as a Rebel. His wife had died but a\\nshort time before. His eldest son, a boy of thirteen, was permitted\\nto stay with his father in the prison but he was so shocked and\\novercome at the execution as to become insane. See the Life of\\nMarion and Thacher s Military Journal.]\\nI.\\nSadly and slow the mourners came\\nThrough Charleston s streets, with bleeding heart;\\nAnd breathed their hate on Rawdon s name,\\nWho acted such a cruel part.\\nLord Rawdon came from England Old,\\nRenowned for skill and courage true\\nAnd oft in onset fierce and bold,\\nAmericans his vengeance knew.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0126.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "DEATH OF COLONEL HAYNE. 115\\nThe fearless Hayne was one of those,\\nWhom in the field of death he took,\\nWhere bands with bands in battle close,\\nAnd spear to spear defiance shook.\\nSoon as the captured Hayne drew near,\\nLord Rawdon looked with scornful eye.\\nAnd said, thou rebel, thou art here,\\nUpon the gallows tree to die.\\nThen Colonel Hayne with boldness said,\\nIt matters not, my Lord, to me\\nI d rather mingle with the dead.\\nThan slave to any man to be.\\nThe feeble body thou canst bind.\\nAnd draw the life-blood from the vein\\nBut there s defiance in the mind.\\nThe bounding spirit knows no chain.\\nLord Rawdon shook his plumage high.\\nAnd half unsheathed his angry sword\\nAnd swore in wrath, thou soon shalt die,\\nIf there is truth in Rawdon s word.\\nIf men will not their king obey.\\nBut set themselves against his power,\\nTheir life itself the crime shall pay.\\nAnd they shall rue the venging hour.\\nAgain the soldier answer made.\\nAnd said, it matters not to me\\nOf foul dishonor I m afraid,\\nBut fear not death, my Lord, nor thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0127.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "116 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nI d rather be the sightless mole,\\nAnd in the dust and ashes mine\\nThan stoop to tyranny s control,\\nOr ever bend to thee or thine.\\nII.\\nDown in a dungeon s dark retreat\\nThe brave American was cast\\nAnd round his hands, and round his feet,\\nWere made the links of iron fast.\\nAnd with him there his eldest boy.\\nAn inmate of the cell remained;\\nHis father viewed him once with joy.\\nBut now the sight his bosom pained.\\nFor well he knew what deep distress.\\nIn this dark world of sin and strife.\\nToo oft befalls the fatherless,\\nThrown early on the sea of life.\\nThe boy clung round his father s neck\\nIt was a time his love to try\\nHe wept, as though his heart would break,\\nAnd said, his father must not die.\\nI saw, said he, the winding sheet.\\nThat robed my mother s pallid clay\\nI saw the men, with slow-paced feet.\\nThat sadly bore her far away.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0128.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "DEATH OF COLONEL HAYNE. 117\\nAnd as the bell, with heavy tongue,\\nFilled with her death the listening air,\\nDeep to my heart its accents rung,\\nAnd moved anew the anguish there.\\nWith faltering tongue, before she died,\\nShe said, My Charles, I leave you, dear\\nAnd as she spoke, she strove to hide\\nThe grief, that shone in many a tear.\\nI leave you, (and may God be kind,)\\nWith one, a constant friend who 11 be\\nCharles in your father you will find\\nA friend, as he has been to me.\\nThat mother, to my infant sight,\\nFar back as memory s step can trace.\\nRose, like an angel, clothed in light.\\nAnd shone o er all my early race.\\nBut she hath gone her light hath fled;\\nAnd can her parting words be true.\\nIf you shall seek that narrow bed.\\nAnd I must bid farewell to you.\\nAround his father s veteran neck.\\nHe threw his little arms again\\nWhile, trickling o er his youthful cheek.\\nThe tears his faded beauty stain.\\nMy child, my child said Colonel Hayne,\\nThink not, I do not deeply feel\\nThy griefs are like the clanking chain,\\nAnd pierce me, as the foeman s steel.\\n10", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0129.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "118 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nBut when our griefs and duty meet,\\nThere is one course for me, for all\\nTo trample sorrow under feet.\\nAnd stand erect at honor s call.\\nBut there is One, who knows our need.\\nNor claims what man cannot fulfill\\nT is ours his Providence to read.\\nAnd bow submissive to his will.\\nRepose, my child, your hopes in God,\\nMake him your counsellor and friend\\nHe blesses, when he lifts the rod,\\nAnd oft in good our troubles end.\\nAnd while on Him for aid you call,\\nFear not, but all your strength renew\\nFor there are others yet so small.\\nThat they must look for help to you.\\nYet scarcely old enough to know.\\nThat they nor father have nor mother.\\nWatch over them, and ever show\\nThe care, the kindness of a brother.\\nHI.\\nTwo coursers at the dungeon meet.\\nAnd black were they as raven s wing\\nThey smite the earth with pawing feet.\\nAnd high the dust around them fling.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0130.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "DEATH OF COLONEL HAYNE. 119\\nAnd from the grates, the iron grates,\\nThe brave American looked through\\nAnd on those steeds, the coal-black mates,\\nThe ministers of vengeance knew.\\nTo friends and foes farewell he bade.\\nWho mourned alike o er one so brave\\nUpon his son his hand he laid.\\nAnd sad his parting blessing gave.\\nThen blew the trumpet loud and long,\\nThen wide the dungeon doors were flung;\\nAnd Colonel Hayne went through the throng.\\nUpon the gallows to be hung.\\nThe steeds pressed heavily the ground.\\nThe soldiers marched with solemn tread\\nThe trumpets pealed their thrilling sound.\\nThe muffled drums beat dull and dread.\\nBut Colonel Hayne showed no dismay,\\nNo panic blanched his manly cheek\\nThough multitudes, that thronged his way,\\nIn sighs and tears their sorrows speak.\\nUnmoved, he reached the place of death;\\nUnmoved, he trod the scaffold high;\\nFor life he knew was useless breath\\nWithout the sweets of liberty.\\nBut ere he died, the heart-felt prayer.\\nPoured for his native land, he gave,\\nThat God would shield her with his care,\\nAnd in the hour of darkness save.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0131.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "120 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nT is done He gives his last embrace,\\nAnd, in the twinkling of an eye,\\nHe, who was swift in freedom s race.\\nHung black and moveless in the sky.\\nIV.\\nI marked a boy pass through the street.\\nWith garments rude, dishevelled hair\\nHe walked the earth with wandering feet.\\nAnd with a wild and maniac air.\\nHe said but little; oft he stood,\\nWhen gained the sun his noon-day height.\\nAnd fixed, when in his frantic mood.\\nUpon its beams, his staring sight.\\nI asked what I his name should call.\\nAnd how that one, so young as he.\\nSo early in his life should fall\\nTo such extreme of misery.\\nAlas he w^as his father s pride.\\nNor less he loved that father well\\nHe saw him when he, struggling, died\\nHe shrieked, and tottering reason fell.\\nAnd from that dark, distracting day,\\nWild horrors in his bosom reign\\nHis face is marked with sad dismay\\nT is Charles, the son of Colonel Hayne.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0132.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "DEATH OF COLONEL HAYNE. 121\\nV.\\nThese are thy fearful scenes, oh War\\nThese are the trophies thou dost bring\\nHow many pleasures thou dost mar\\nHow many bosoms thou dost wring\\nThe son and father thou dost sever,\\nThe husband from the wife dost part\\nAnd sendest wretchedness forever\\nO er ruined home and bleeding heart.\\n10*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0133.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "Ballads aud Songs.\\nDESTRUCTION OF THE WILLEY FAMILY.\\n[Some years since there resided in the Pass of the White\\nMountains in New Hampshire, about two miles from the eel.\\nebrated place called the N-jich, a solitary but interesting and re-\\nspectable family. On the night of August 26, 1826, a night ren-\\ndered memorable by a violent storm, which may be said in hun-\\ndreds of places to have rent the mountains from top to bottom, the\\nwhole of this family were destroyed, viz Mr. and Mrs. Willey,\\nwith their five children, Eliza Ann, Jeremiah, Martha, Elbridge,\\nand Sarahjtogether with two hired men. The particulars of this\\nmournful event may be found in the N. H. Historical Collections.]\\nELIZA ANN, Aged twelve years.\\nMother The clouds are on the vale\\nThe frightened cattle homeward run;\\nThe trees are breaking in the gale,\\nAnd red and angry looks the sun.\\nthe mother.\\nHush, hush, my child What do they know,\\nThe gentle cows and simi)Ie sheep\\nShall not the winds of summer blow^,\\nAnd clouds along the forest sweep", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0134.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "DESTRUCTION OF THE WILLEY FAMILY. 123\\nCome in, and do not yield to fears.\\nHow oft we ve heard the tempest s voice,\\nWhen t was but music to our ears,\\nAnd made our bounding hearts rejoice.\\nThen thou wouldst at the window stand,\\nAnd with no fear upon thy brow.\\nBehold the waves o erwhelm the land.\\nThe rocks roll down, the forests bow.\\nELBRIDGE, The youngest son, seven years of age.\\nSay, mother, will the mountains move\\nWe saw them move the other day\\nVast piles of earth did march along.\\nAnd all before them swept away.\\nHow beautiful the trees did look.\\nWith nodding leaf and blossom bright.\\nAs in their vast array they took\\nE en from the mountain s top their flight.\\nBut it was terrible to see.\\nWhen in their strength they came so near\\nAnd to thine arms we all did flee.\\nTo shield and save us in our fear.\\nTHE MOTHER.\\nOh, talk not thus, too fearful child\\nT is time to seek repose and sleep\\nIs there not One, who rules the storm,\\nWhose love supports, whose arm can keep", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0135.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "124 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nSee, how unconscious Sarah sleeps\\nNo fears disturb her quiet mind\\nThere s faith and strength in innocence,\\nIn aught beside we fail to find.\\nThe reeling earth awakes her not,\\nNor howling winds disturb her soul\\nShe heeds not, when the lightnings flash,\\nNor when the troubled thunders roll.\\nJEREMIAH Eleven years of a^e.\\nBut yesterday the Saco bore\\nIts waters scarce above my feet\\nBut now, from all the mountain sides.\\nThe torrents in its channel meet.\\nAnd swollen, with resistless force.\\nIt whirls and boils and hurries on.\\nAnd on its angry wave the trees.\\nAnd logs, and crumbling banks are borne.\\nAnd, sad to tell, two little lambs\\nThat frolicked on its grassy shore,\\nWere overtaken by its waves.\\nAnd swept away, and seen no more.\\nThey were the lambs that Martha loved.\\nWith which we all were wont to play\\nI heard their faint and mournful bleat,\\nAs they were rudely swept away.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0136.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "DESTRUCTION OF THE WILLEY FAMILY. 125\\nNICHOSON, Hired man.\\nThe angry bear hath left his cave,\\nThe frightened wolf is howling loud\\nThe eagle, from his rocky crag.\\nScreams fiercely to the passing cloud.\\nSad night is this The traveler,\\nWho through the mountains makes his way.\\nWill sink beneath the thunder stroke,\\nAnd low his head in sorrow lay.\\nHow blest are they that have a home,\\nTo shield from storms descending fast\\nHark Heard ye not the breaking pines\\nAnd heard ye not the whirlwind s blast\\nTHE FATHER.\\nWhen in the wondrous times of old,\\nThe Lord to Sinai s mountain came.\\nUpon the mighty w inds he flew.\\nAnd underneath him clouds and flame.\\nOur God is on the mountains now\\nThe lofty summits feel his tread\\nBefore his steps the forests bow,\\nThe rivers swell above their bed.\\nHis creatures now are in His hands.\\nTo be by Him sustained or lost,\\nLike mariners upon the sea.\\nIn bellowingr storm and tempest tost.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0137.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "126\\nBALLADS AND SONGS.\\nALLEN J Anotlier hired\\nThe fires flash down the mountain s side\\nThe rocks rebound from tree to tree\\nThe earth is heaving far and wide,\\nAh, whither, whither shall we flee\\nTHE FATHER.\\nThere s neither time nor power to flee,\\nBut t is a time to watch and pray\\nIf here we meet our destiny,\\nT is well as any other way.\\nIf life is o er, t is good and right^\\nGod only knows the when and where\\nT is best to quench our earthly light,\\nAnd bid us to Himself repair,\\nIn God alone I put my trust\\nBeneath His wing I take my stand\\nAnd though I am a worm of dust,\\nI feel His omnipresent hand.\\nThen let us all our hearts prepare.\\nThe holy Word of God to read\\nAnd oflfer up the evening prayer\\nTo Him, who aids us at our need.\\nTHE PRAYER.\\nOh, Thou, where eye can see Thee not.\\nThy dwelling-place in heaven who makest.\\nThe humble heart is ne er forgot.\\nThy praying ones Thou ne er forsakest.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0138.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "DESTRUCTION OF THE WILLEY FAxMILY. l27\\nThine eye runs forth from place to place,\\nThe darkness as the light surveying,\\nRegarding all that Thou hast made,\\nAnd every where thy love displaying.\\nTo Thee the beasts apply for food\\nThe birds receive Thy constant care,\\nAs in the pathless woods they roam.\\nOr o er the boundless fields of air.\\nAnd we, thy children, look to Thee\\nNo other friend nor hope we know\\nThy hand doth hold our destiny,\\nAnd at Thy feet we lay us low.\\nWe hear Thee in the rending rocks\\nWe hear Thee in the thunder s noise.\\nAnd shall we not in mercy hear\\nThee speaking in the still, small voice?\\nOh, send that voice, in mercy send,\\nAnd bid our fears and troubles cease\\nWhate er may come, oh, may we feel\\nSubmission, trust in God, and peace.\\nPART SECOND.\\nT WAS thus in converse they did spend\\nWith gleams of hope and mingling fears,\\nTheir last sad evening here on earth.\\nAnd poured their prayers and shed their tears.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0139.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "128 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nThey felt their weakness, but they felt,\\nThat God is merciful and just,\\nAnd when around their hearth they knelt,\\nHad higher hope and firmer trust.\\nT was theirs, whate er might be his will.\\nTo bear an acquiescent breast,\\nTo bow before Him and be still.\\nWith faith awake and doubt supprest.\\nThey heard the elemental roar,\\nAs moved the heavy hours along,\\nThey heard the dashing torrents pour,\\nBut knew that God can ne er do wrong.\\nThe moon was shut that darksome night.\\nNo star looked forth upon the sky\\nBut riding on the thunder s wing,\\nA tenfold gloom came sweeping by.\\nThe rocks from mount to mountain leaped.\\nFrom rock to rock the waters dashed,\\nHigh voices mingled with the wind.\\nAnd answered when the thunder crashed.\\nNor did the awful mountains stand.\\nFirm and unmoved as wont to be\\nBut raised their scathed and smitten heads.\\nAnd from their ancient seats did flee.\\nT was like the great, the awful day,\\nWhen the archangel s trump shall blow.\\nAnd piercing far, shall find its way\\nTo heights above, and depths below.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0140.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "DESTRUCTION OF THE WILLEY FAMILY. 129\\nThe mountains moved, but when they left\\nWith rocks and woods their old retreat,\\nThey did not cease to think of those,\\nTheir lovely children at their feet.\\nWhom they had in their bosom nursed,\\nAs they had nursed the beast and bird\\nWhose feet were like the mountain deer,\\nWhose song e en to their tops was heard.\\nBut fleeing, wheeled their course around\\nThe cot where they did erst reside.\\nAnd passed it by untouched and sound\\nBut overwhelmed all else beside.*\\nAlas Their children were not there.\\nSons of the mountain They had gone\\nAnd passing in the mountain s track,\\nWere in its footsteps overthrown.\\nHusband and wife and little one,\\nFather and child and hired man,\\nNot one survived but in one grave\\nDid close their life s diminished span.\\nThus terribly they all did die\\nT was thus mid storms and rending earth,\\nThis lovely mountain family\\nReturned to Him, who gave them birth.\\nIt is a most remarkable circumstance, that when the falling\\nportion of the mountain approached the house, where the Willey\\nfamily dwelt, it divided a few rods back of it, and going round on\\nboth sides, left it untouched.\\n11", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0141.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "130 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nHe took them, as in days of old,\\nIn ancient days his loved he took\\nSuch as the saint, who walked with God,\\nSuch as the Seer of Cherith s brook.\\nFor when the earth Elijah left,\\nT was not as when one goes to sleep\\nBut blazing fires the heavens cleft.\\nAnd whirlwinds o er the earth did sweep.\\nThe whirlwind wrapt him in its wing,\\nThe flaming fires around him curled,\\nAnd swift and upward did they bring\\nThe Prophet to a better world.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0142.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "Ballads and Songs.\\nYANKO, THE NOBLE NEGRO.\\n[The incidents, which are the foundation of the following stan-\\nzas, are matters of fact, and not mere poetical fiction. A few\\nyears since, two children were left by an English gentlemen on\\nboard a vessel, in the care of a Negro, who belonged to his family.\\nHis object in leaving them was merely to make a short visit to\\nanother vessel, in the expectation of returning very soon. In the\\nmean time 9 storm arose, and the vessel, in which the children,\\nwere, was wrecked. The children, however, were saved through\\nthe disinterested kindness of the Negro, who in order that\\nroom might be made for them in the boat, which conveyed the\\nsurvivors, willingly and cheerfully remained on the wreck, and\\nperished. Some notices of ^this affecting story may be found in\\nRoberts s Memoirs of Miss Hannah Moore.]\\nTHE FATHER.\\nYanko We leave the ship to-day\\nWe give our children to your care\\nWhile o er the sea s unruffled way\\nTo yonder vessel we repair.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0143.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "132 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nSee how she strikes the gazer s eye,\\nWith towering mast and canvas wide\\nI know her gallant company\\nOne hour will bring us to her side.\\nAnd though the feast and song may flow,\\nAs there our early friends we hail,\\nThe sunset with its parting glow\\nShall brighten our returning sail.\\nTHE MOTHER.\\nYanko To my loved boys be kind\\nMy thread of life to their s is bound\\nIf they should suffer, I should find.\\nIn my own soul, the rankling wound.\\nThey long thy faithfulness have known\\nWe only ask thee now to prove.\\nWhat thou in other times hast shown,\\nThat thou dost hold them in thy love.\\nOur boat will urge its joyful track\\nOver the sea s unruffled plain\\nBut soon to speed its journey back.\\nAnd bring us to the boys again.\\nTHE CHILDREN.\\nOh, mother, yield not thus to fear.\\nWhen we are absent from your view\\nThe hours, with faithful Yanko near.\\nWith sport and joy are ever new.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0144.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "YANKO, THE NOBLE NEGRO. 133\\nAround the ship he guides our feet,\\nAnd shows the mast, the ropes, the sail\\nOr, seeking out some quiet seat,\\nRelates the sailor s wondrous tale.\\nTHE NEGRO.\\nMaster and Mistress I will take\\nCare of my little masters here\\nIf they were hurt, my heart would break;\\nI love them too ye need not fear.\\nI feel their sorrows, and am sad,\\nIf but a swelling tear I see\\nAnd not a pleasure makes them glad,\\nBut brings its happiness to me.\\nI will not say what I would do.\\nTo save them from the slightest smart\\nFearlef^s I make appeal to you;\\nThey have their image in my heart,\\nII.\\nT was thus the parting parents sought\\nThe noble ship, that waiting lay\\nAnd as they joyful went, they thought,\\nEre long to urge their homeward way.\\nSome natural fears disturbed their mind\\nBut still they knew the Negro s heart;\\nAnd doubted not, that one so kind\\nWould act the honorable part.\\n11*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0145.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "134 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nMeantime a sudden storm arose.\\nAnd wrapped the sea in deepest black\\nIn foaming piles the ocean flows.\\nAnd lightnings cleave their angry track.\\nThe vessel, which so late they left,\\nWas dashed in fierceness to and fro\\nUntil of sail and mast bereft,\\nShe settled gradually low.\\nThen there were shrieks and agony\\nThe boat was hoisted in it fast\\nThe striving crew plunged hastily,\\nAnd Yanko and the boys came last.\\nAnd what was rending to the heart,\\nThe boatmen hesitate to take them\\nAnd make all ready to depart,\\nAnd to the raging sea forsake them.\\nThe children, at the Negro s side,\\nLooked up to see what he would do,\\nAnd in the tear he could not hide\\nThe fullness of his friendship knew.\\nFor then he felt the inward strife,\\nThe grief which generous bosoms feel,\\nAnd gladly would have yielded life.\\nTo save the boys he loved so well.\\nThe boatmen eagerly he prayed,\\nThat they the little boys would take,\\nAnd save them in their youth arrayed,\\nAnd save them for their parent s sake.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0146.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "YANKO, THE NOBLE NEGRO. 135\\nIII.\\nThen rose the master of the boat,\\nWhich scarce sustained the whelming tide.\\nAnd grief his hardy bosom smote,\\nAs thus to Yanko he replied.\\nWhate er I can I 11 gladly do,\\nBut if they enter, it will be.\\nThat then no place will be for you,\\nAnd you must perish in the sea.\\nWell, Yanko said, it matters not\\nNo worthless fear my breast annoys\\nOn such as I ne er spend a thought\\nLet Yanko perish take the boys.\\nTo them shall life its joys unfold\\nThe parent heart is bound to their s\\nBut Yanko, when in death he s cold.\\nHas none his destiny that shares.\\nHe spoke, and placed within the boat\\nThe children to his charge consigned\\nThe little bark was soon afloat,\\nBut noble Yanko staid behind.\\nThe boys for sorrow could not speak,\\nBut tears and sobs their anguish tell,\\nAs Yanko, on the sinking deck,\\nRepeated loud his long farewell.\\nThe Negro stood alone. His eye\\nRaised upward to the Lord of light", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0147.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "136 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nThe world s last look was passing by,\\nAnd vast Eternity in sight.\\n^T was but a moment. Quick the wave\\nRushed deeply o er its sinking prize\\nAnd swept his body to its grave,\\nAnd gave his spirit to the skies.\\nIV.\\nThis is the story sad but true,\\nShowing a negro s noble feeling.\\nReader It has a word for you,\\nUnto your sympathies appealing.\\nThere are some men, who scorning say,\\nThe negroes are a lower race.\\nDid Yanko s generous deed betray\\nA lower, an ignoble place\\nWhere er the sun the world doth bless,\\nIs there a white man, that doth bear\\nA soul, with which in nobleness\\nPoor Yanko s heart will not compare\\nJudge not of virtue by a name.\\nNor think to read it on the skin\\nHonor in black and white s the same.\\nThe stamp of glory is within.\\nWhate er his color, man is man,\\nA negro s heart like any other;\\nAnd Heaven, in its capacious plan.\\nBids us to treat him as a brother.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0148.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "Ballads and Songi\\nTHE FROZEN FAMILY OF ILLINOIS.\\n[A few years since, in the state of Illinois, a man, his wife, and\\nthree children, were frozen to death, in attempting to cross a\\nPrairie in the winter. They were found dead, and their sleigh\\nbroken in pieces api)arently with the intention of making a fire.\\nAs the precise facts of their sufferings and death are unknown,\\nthey must be left to be realized by the imagination but we are\\nsafe in saying that the highest efforts of the imagination would\\nfind it difficult to exaggerate them.]\\nIn the lone land of Illinois,\\nA man, and wife, and children three,\\nSet out with hearts alive with joy.\\nSome loved, but distant friends to see.\\nTheir journey o er a Prairie lay.\\nThat stretched afar, some ten miles broad\\nThe horses drew the well-built sleigh,\\nThey glided swiftly on their road.\\nWhen on their journey they set out,\\nThey had no grief, they had no fear\\nThey saw the sun-light on their route.\\nNor dreamt, that grief and woe were near.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0149.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "138 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nAnd much they smiled, and much they talked\\nOf their anticipated meeting,\\nWhen round the hearth of relatives,\\nThey should receive the friendly greeting.\\nThey had not traveled far, before\\nThe sun was shut, the winds did blow,\\nThe road s dim track was covered o er,\\nAnd thickly fell the driven snow.\\nMissing the road, they turned aside\\nUpon the Prairie s woodless plain,\\nAnd wandered {\\\\ir and wandered wide.\\nAnd sought, but came not right again.\\nThe man with zeal his horses drove\\nT was all a circuit round and round\\nWith nought of guiding track or sign,\\nThey wandered o er the self-same ground.\\nAlready hours and hours were past,\\nA dark and dreadful night at hand\\nAnd they were like poor sailors, cast.\\nWithout a compass, far from land.\\nThe sun was dark, the winds did blow,\\nAnd they had used all earthly skill\\nBut still they wandered in the snow,\\nThey lingered in the Prairie still.\\nAnd it was piercing cold beside.\\nNo friendly face, no house was near.\\nTo welcome from the trackless snow.\\nAnd at its hearth their hearts to cheer.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0150.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "THE FROZEN FAMILY OF ILLINOIS. 139\\nT was then, alas, they sadly hear\\nThe moan of grief from Emma rise\\nAnd see their only daughter dear\\nFreezing to death before their eyes.\\nShe knew her parents could not help,\\nShe did not wish to give them grief;\\nAnd thus in silence bore each pang,\\nTill she was frozen past relief.\\nHer limbs were lifeless one by one,\\nHer countenance to marble grew\\nStaring and wild her lovely eye,\\nPallid and blank her blooming hue.\\nShe, whom they loved with deepest love,\\nIn childhood whom they fondly bore.\\nSunk down the parents face to see.\\nThe parents voice to hear no more.\\nWhat could they do where could they go\\nIf there they stopped, they perished there\\nThe wearied horses through the snow\\nTheir burden scarce could longer bear.\\nStill strove they forward, labored on.\\nWith their dead daughter in the sleigh,\\nThough grief was deep, and hope was gone,\\nAnd darkness gathered on their way.\\nOne of the horses failed the drift\\nHis breast encircled o er it rose\\nHis struggling hoof, but all in vain\\nHe stopped imbedded in the snows.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0151.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "140 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nDeath-struck, he stiffened as he stood\\nWith mane erect and nostril wide,\\nAnd curving neck and head upraised,\\nThus in his agony he died.\\nAnd there they stood fast bound together,\\nOne, frozen, motionless, and dead\\nBut wild and restless was the other,\\nAnd smote his hoofs, and heaved his head.\\nUntil his wearied strength gave way,\\nAnd then, as of his fate aware,\\nHe breathed his life and agony\\nIn one shrill cry upon the air.\\nThe father saw, that all was gone.\\nAnd yet suppressed his words and fears\\nHis noble boy he called upon.\\nFrom whose bright eye rolled silent tears.\\nTheir sleigh they into fragments broke,\\nAnd from its splintered portions sought\\nWith smitten steel to make a fire.\\nBut all their pains availed them not.\\nStill howled the storm, and still the snow\\nCame driven fiercely through the air\\nNo further had they power to go,\\nTo live they could not, where they were.\\nAnd now the mother and the wife,\\nWith fears o ercome and piercing cold.\\nBegan to feel the ebb of life,\\nAnd on the earth to loose her hold.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0152.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "THE FROZEN FAMILY OF ILLINOIS. 141\\nShe had a loved, an infant child\\nShe dropped upon its face a tear\\nThe babe looked gently up and smiled,\\nAnd felt, though wrapped in storms, no fear.\\nStrange images were at her heart.\\nSad thoughts her mind did occupy\\nThat she was summoned thus to part,\\nAnd in this dreadful way to die.\\nAnd yet she chid her murmuring soul,\\nAnd strove her rebel thoughts to quell\\nAnd as she bade a last adieu,\\nShe gently breathed out, All is well.\\nAnd then the boy was quite o er come\\nAt this new stroke, so full of sorrow\\nHis failing voice and strength give signs,\\nThat he with her shall see no morrow.\\nNo tear was shed, no word was spoken,\\nHe fell down at his mother s side;\\nThe spring was dry, the heart was broken,\\nHe closed his beaming eye and died.\\nThe father now v/as left alone.\\nSave that his babe was yet alive,\\nHe took it fondly in his arms,\\nAnd onward through the drifts did strive.\\nOne mighty effort he put forth,\\n(Despair gave momentary power,)\\nAnd plunged, and sunk, and struggled on,\\nBut soon he found his strength was o er.\\n12", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0153.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "142 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nSome little way he forced his track,\\nBut now t was fruitless all and vain\\nAnd with a starting tear turned back,\\nAnd looked upon his wife again.\\nHe lived to see his babe expire\\nAnd then he placed them side by side\\nAnd kneeling o er them in his grief,\\nPoured out his broken prayer, and died.\\nCONCLUSION.\\nThis is indeed a varied scene,\\nWith joys and griefs together thrown\\nWe may be what we have not been.\\nWhat is before us is not known.\\nTo-day our sun is pure and bright.\\nTo-morrow he goes darkly down.\\nAnd they, who triumphed in his light,\\nNow weep and wither in his frown.\\nT is God s to do as he sees fit\\nTo raise us up or lay us low\\nT is ours to worship and submit,\\nAnd bless the hand that gives the blow.\\nFor though we cannot see it here,\\nWhy we are called in grief to dwell\\nThe time will come, when t will appear.\\nThat all was ordered right and well.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0154.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "DARK-ROLLING CONNECTICUT. 143\\nDARK-ROLLING CONNECTICUT.\\nI.\\nOh, tell me no more of the blisses prevailing\\nIn the canopied halls of the noble and great\\nOh, tell me no more of the joys never-failing.\\nThat are deemed at the feet of the wealthy to wait\\nFor dearer than riches or power, are the mountains.\\nThe hills and the vales, to remembrance allied\\nThe murmuring of winds, and the rushing of fountains,\\nThat haste to Connecticut s dark-rolling tide.\\nII.\\nDark-rolling Connecticut Oft I remember\\nThe days and the years, that I spent on thy shore.\\nAnd the tribute of tear-drops unconsciously render.\\nWhen thinking those days shall be present no more.\\nI walked by the side of thy waves darkly flowing,\\nAnd loud was the wild-bird, that sung in the trees\\nOn thy green summer borders, the flowret was blowing,\\nAnd health from the mountains came borne on the\\nbreeze.\\nIII.\\nThough a dream of the past, still t is fruitful of pleasure,\\nTo remember, when nature had gone to decay.\\nAnd the forests were mantled in winter s white treasure,\\nHow pleasantly passed the long evenings away.\\nAround the blithe hearth, that was cheerfully gleaming.\\nDrew the circle, where beauty and wit held their reign,\\nWith soft sayings and smiles the day s hardships redeeming,\\nAh, never to soothe the sad spirit again.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0155.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "144 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nIV.\\nRemembrance the joy of those moments shall cherish,\\nThough quickly they faded, though long they have past,\\nNor e er from the depths of my heart shall they perish,\\nAs long as a throb in that bosom shall last.\\nAnd I think, for we all must be summoned to part,\\nT would soften its anguish, my head could I pillow,\\nWhen life, like a vision, shall fade from my heart.\\nBy the side of Connecticut s dark-rolling billow.\\nTHE CLOSING YEAR.\\nIn the glad days of summer the lily and rose,\\nThe delight of the garden, were fragrant and bright\\nBut their bloom and their fragrance have come to a close,\\nAnd another short year hath betaken to flight.\\nT is a fevv days ago, when I walked out one morn,\\nAs the sun was just rising above the green hill\\nThe pear-tree was laden, the flower hid the thorn,\\nAnd sweet was the murmuring voice of the rill.\\nThe thrush and the linnet were joyous and gay,\\nThe lark sweetly sung from his tent in the sky.\\nFrom the hazel s retreat burst the black-bird away,\\nAnd the fields seemed in music and beauty to vie.\\nBut now the fair landscape hath lost its delight.\\nThe earth is all barren, the trees are all bare.\\nThe forest indeed wears a mantle of white.\\nBut the voices, that cheered it, no longer are there.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0156.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "THE SICK CHILD. 145\\nWherever I look, there are signs of decay,\\nI hear the winds whistle unjoyous and drear,\\nThe rills through the ice urge their desolate way.\\nAnd blighting and grief mark the death of the year.\\nStill the sun shall return and his lamp shall be nigh,\\nAnd the trees that are naked and torn by the blast,\\nBe again green as ever, and rich in his eye,\\nBut the year of our life is the first and the last.\\nOur lamp shall wax dim, and our sun shall retire,\\nAnd our bodies return to the dust of their birth;\\nOh, who shall rekindle that lustreless fire,\\nAnd its beauty restore to that mouldering earth\\nA sun that s eternal shall burst on the tomb,\\nAnd commence a new year to the good and the wise\\nHis rays their dark prison shall pierce and relume,\\nAnd sprinkle with splendor their path to the skies.\\nTHE SICK CHILD.\\nThe sweat is standing on her brow.\\nThe tear is beaming in her eye.\\nShe doth not clasp her father now,\\nAs in the happy days gone by.\\nBorne in her cradle of distress,\\nFrom morn to evening doth she lay\\nHer little arms are powerless,\\nShe hath no strength to run or play.\\n12*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0157.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "146 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nThe color fadeth from her cheek,\\nHer bird-like voice is waning low\\nThe lovely one, how kind and meek\\nWhat patience in her hour of woe\\nOh, could I once but hear her voice\\nSpeak out, as it was used to do,\\nHow would my spirits then rejoice,\\nWith that gay pleasure once they knew\\nOut in the garden she would go.\\nAnd play among the tender flowers;\\nAnd birds would sing around her so,\\nAs if to win her to their bowers.\\nBut now the sweat is on her brow,\\nThe tear is beaming in her eye\\nPassed are the sports and music now.\\nThat cheered us in the times gone by.\\nTHE WOUNDED BIRD.\\nPoor, wounded bird my bosom aches for thee,\\nAs I thy torn and bleeding form behold.\\nWide in the sky no more thou shalt unfold\\nThy wings, exulting in their liberty.\\nIt was but yester morn, I saw thee blest\\nI marked thy plumage gay and heard thee sing,\\nAnd watched thee upward on thy early wing,\\nBefore the sunbeam found thy dewy nest.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0158.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTERS. 147\\nThou wast a tenant of the boundless air\\nThy song, at coming morn, rejoicing loud,\\nThrilled from the bosom of the golden cloud,\\nAnd thou didst lodge in light and beauty there.\\nPoor bird I would that I could bring relief,\\nAnd call thee back to joys and songs again\\nBut that can never be these tears are vain\\nAnd thou shalt bow thy head in early grief.\\nI see thy heaving heart with throbs dilate\\nI mark the shadows of thy closing eye\\nYes, thou art fallen low, but shalt not die,\\nWithout a friend to mourn thy cruel fate.\\nTHE HUNTERS.\\nThe moon hath bowed her orb of light,\\nAnd here we 11 rest, till morn is bright\\nThe mountain deer were swift to-day,\\nAnd far have led our feet astray.\\nThe cottage fire is out afar\\nThe watch-dog bays the lingering star\\nUpon the mount springs up the deer,\\nAnd lifts his antlered head to hear.\\nBut he shall rest again his eye\\nBeside the brook, that murmurs by\\nAnd lose in dreams and soft repose\\nThe sense of weariness and woes.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0159.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "148 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nThe Hunters too shall sink to sleep,\\nWith burning pines their watch to keep\\nWhile far and near the wakeful trees\\nMake music in the nightly breeze.\\nBut soon again the sun shall fling\\nThe daylight from his golden wing\\nAnd hills, and woods, and waters far,\\nResound with horn and sylvan war.\\nT IS MANY A YEAR.\\nT IS many a year, since first 1 drew\\nYour airs, ye hills, with panting breast\\nAnd on your rocks the loud halloo\\nWith voice and waving arm exprest.\\nYour rugged steeps I loved to climb,\\nAnd thence with eager eye survey,\\nWhen seated on their brow sublime,\\nThe fields and farmhouse far away.\\nT is many a year.\\nThose years I wish would come again.\\nThose distant times I oft recall\\nAlas My youthful joys are slain\\nI say, as silent tear-drops fall.\\nWhere are the days, when down your side\\nThe little sled, that bore me swift.\\nAt winter eve I loved to guide\\nO er icy steep and frozen drift?\\nT is many a year.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0160.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "WHEN THE CHERUB OF MERCY. 149\\nOld men have died, since I was young\\nYoung men have into manhood grown.\\nIt is not now, as when I sung\\nUpon those distant hills alone.\\nAnd called upon the rocks to hear,\\nAnd called upon the trees around,\\nAnd rocks, and trees, and waters near\\nEchoed me back their joyful sound.\\nT is many a year.\\nWHEN THE CHERUB OF MERCY.\\nWhen the cherub of mercy to Heaven recalls us.\\nAnd waves his white hand from the bright fields above.\\nThe thought most afflicting, and most that appalls us.\\nIs leaving the fond ones behind that we love\\nEach throb of affection and bliss to extinguish,\\nFrom the bosom, cannot but elicit the sigh;\\nHowever all else we would gladly relinquish.\\nFor the fields and the river of life in the sky.\\nBut happier the fate that befell the two lovers,\\nWho fondly embracing on death calmly smiled.\\nWhen they sunk, where the foam of the dark billow hovers\\nO er the grave,that with sea-flowers is blooming and wild.\\nOh, they ne er from each other s endearments were parted,\\nFor the angel, who came in his gleaming array,\\nCould not, in his mercy, leave one broken-hearted,\\nAnd summoned them both to be the bright realms of day.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0161.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "150 BALLDS AND SONGS.\\nTHE LANDSCAPE.\\nI CLIMBED the rude hills, at the closing of day,\\nAnd lingered delighted, while bright to my view\\nWas the landscape below me, at distance that lay,\\nAnd oped its wild beauties transporting and new.\\nThe smoke from the cottage was curling beneath.\\nThe cottage half-hid in the trees from mine eye\\nWhile the clouds caught, in many a silvery wreath,\\nThe gleams, that were purest and brightest of dye.\\nThe wild birds were talking in leaf and in nest\\nThe brook sung aloud with its music divine\\nAnd far in the vale, that sloped down to the West,\\nWas the bleating of sheep and the lowing of kine.\\nT was lonely and rugged, the place where I stood.\\nBut pleasures came over my heart in a throng\\nThe shout from the huntsman arose from the wood.\\nAnd I heard in the distance the shepherd-boy s song.\\nSING THAT SONG AGAIN.\\nOh, lady Sing that song again,\\nI 11 sadly linger by\\nI ve heard it, on my native plain,\\nIt then was able to unchain\\nEmotions high.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0162.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "SONG OF THE PILGRIMS. 151\\nIn youth I heard it, till the tears\\nFast o er my cheeks have stole\\nFor loves, and joys, and hopes, and fears\\nCould in those young and buoyant years\\nThe mind control.\\nAnd when I hear thee, lady, sing.\\nThough far those times are gone\\nIt seems, as if each joyous thing.\\nMore brightly waving memory s wing,\\nCame flying on.\\nI see once more my native vale,\\nIts birds once more I hear\\nAnd when the evening shades prevail,\\nThe oft-told, legendary tale\\nArrests mine ear.\\nOh, yes T is sweet thy voice to hear,\\nAnd memory s dreams are sweet\\nAnd yet it wrings the bitter tear,\\nTo think, what youthful friends I ne er\\nAgain shall greet.\\nSONG OF THE PILGRIMS.\\nThe breeze has swelled the whitening sail,\\nThe blue waves curl beneath the gale,\\nAnd, bounding with the wave and wind.\\nWe leave Old England s shores behind\\nLeave behind our native shore.\\nHomes, and all we loved before.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0163.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "152 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nThe deep may dash, the winds may blow,\\nThe storm spread out its wings of wo,\\nTill sailors eyes can see a shroud\\nHung in the folds of every cloud\\nStill, as long as life shall last,\\nFrom that shore we 11 speed us fast.\\nFor we would rather never be.\\nThan dwell where mind cannot be free\\nBut bows beneath a despot s rod\\nE en where it seeks to worship God.\\nBlasts of heaven, onward sweep\\nBear us o er the troubled deep\\nO, see what wonders meet our eyes\\nAnother land, and other skies\\nColumbian hills have met our view\\nAdieu Old England s shores, adieu\\nHere, at length, our feet shall rest,\\nHearts be free, and homes be blessed.\\nAs long as yonder firs shall spread\\nTheir green arms o er the mountain s head\\nAs long as yonder cliffs shall stand,\\nWhere join the ocean and the land\\nShall those cliffs and mountains be\\nProud retreats for liberty.\\nNow to the King of kings we 11 raise\\nThe paean loud of sacred praise\\nMore loud than sounds the swelling breeze\\nMore loud than speak the rolling seas\\nHappier lands have met our view\\nEngland s shores, adieu adieu", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0164.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "THE DAUGHTERS OP THE SUN. 153\\nTHE DAUGHTERS OF THE SUN.\\n[Between the Flint and Oakmulge rivers, within the limits of the\\nState of Georgia, is a vast marsh, which in the wel season is filled\\nwith water, and has the appearance of a lake. Here are a number\\nof large islands or knolls of rich high land, one of which the Creek\\nIndians, that formerly resided in the vicinity, were in the habit of\\nrepresenting as the most blissful spot on earth inhabited by a pe-\\nculiar race of Indians, whose women were remarkable for their\\nbeneficence, as well as their incomparable beauty. They csJUed\\nthem the Daughters of the Sun. See Bartram s Travels, p. 25.]\\nOh, their s is the lonely Isle of flowers,\\nAnd at morning and eve though laurel groves.\\nThe voice of music is heard in their bowers,\\nAnd the wild deer listens, that thither roves.\\nThe dew-drops of heaven their radiance fling,\\nO er the breathing woods, that brightly smile\\nAnd the blooming cest of an endless spring\\nIs shining around that happy Isle.\\nNo sorrow their radiant cheeks to shade.\\nTheir hands and their hearts are fondly one\\nAnd the notes, by their fairy fingers played.\\nIn mingling tides of rapture run.\\nAnd never the white dove sailing by.\\nNor the star of evening s pensive reign.\\nWith those hearts of light and love could vie.\\nThe bosoms undimmed by folly s stain,\\n13", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0165.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "154 BALLADS AND SONGSv\\nTHE BOWERi\\nThe bower you taught for me to bloom,\\nAs bright will shed its tints and perfume,\\nAs if the hand, that decked it, were tViere,\\nIts hues and its balmy breath to share.\\nThe warbler, whose sweet, entrancing strain\\nSunk deep in the heart, till joy grew pain,\\nWill utter his notes as soft and clear,\\nAs when we both were lingering near.\\nBut the brightest array of nature s dress.\\nThough floating in light and loveliness.\\nHas never w^orn half so bright a hue.\\nAs when we both her witchery knew.\\nAnd the music at evening s pensive hour.\\nThat hallows our dew-besprinkled bower.\\nHas never beguiled a tear from me,\\nWhich memory did not gild for Thee.\\nthe deserted island.\\nFrom our lovely retreat, when forever we part.\\nWhere smile answered smile, and where heart beat to heart\\nOh, how often and fondly, though far we may be.\\nWill we think, thou blest Isle, of each other and thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0166.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "THE exile s song. 155\\nWe gazed on the waters. How gently they threw,\\nTo the sands that embrace thee, their circles of blue\\nThen passed they to ocean, nor thought to delay;\\nSo embraced we each other, and so haste away.\\nThough the flowers of thy borders grow faded and sear,\\nThough the waves that caress thee so soon disappear\\nIn souls like thy waters unruffled and pure.\\nThe love, that we cherished, shall always endure.\\nOhj the noon of our gladness, how soon t is o ercast\\nAdieu, ye enchantments, too lovely to last;\\nWe ll go from the haunts where the blue billows roll,\\nBut the Isle and its waters shall live in the soul.\\nTHE EXILE S SONG.\\nI WOULD that I could sing the song,\\nI sung beneath my native sky\\nBut something tells me t would be wrom\\nThat note of joy again to try.\\nWhen winter comes, we list in vain\\nTo hear the merry birds of June\\nThen ask me not to breathe the strain.\\nUntil the spirit is in tune.\\nFor now, a wanderer far away,\\nAnother stream and vales I view\\nAnd if I poured the joyful lay.\\nMy heart would answer, t is not true.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0167.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "156 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nNo lover sings the song of bliss,\\nWhen from his bosom s mate he s parted\\nThe exile s soul, no less than his.\\nIs lone, and sad, and broken-hearted.\\nOh, when I breathe my native air.\\nAnd tread once more my native plain\\nThen shall my heart its joy repair.\\nMy tongue repeat its song again.\\nV/HEN AUTUMN S STAR WAS BRIGHTLY BEAMING.\\nI.\\nWhen autumn s star was brightly beaming\\nAnd shed on earth its silver ray\\nWhen autumn s sky was redly gleaming\\nWith the last fires of parting day;.\\nUpon a cliff, that proudly blended\\nIts flinty bosom, frowning high,\\nWith crimson-tinted clouds and sky.\\nSwiftly a virgin form ascended.\\nT was Freedom s self that rose.\\nAnd how her bright eye glows,\\nAs warning sound, around, around.\\nWith voice divine she throws.\\n11.\\nColumbia s sons Your fathers firing,\\nThe flame of freedom in them grew\\nAgainst oppression s chains conspiring.\\nThey fought, but not alone for you.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0168.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "WHEN autumn s STAR, C. 157\\nTheir brilliant names are shrined in story\\nBut you, (a shame to them and me,)\\nWho crush the black man s liberty.\\nHave done dishonor to their glory.\\nMy heart the man disdains.\\nWho freedom s cause maintains,\\nBut yet doth hold, for lust of gold,\\nHis fellow-man in chains.\\nHI.\\nMy children dwell in every nation,\\nI hear their voice where er they call\\nI heed not color, rank, or station\\nGive me the heart, and that is all.\\nHe, who has blackness on his skin,\\nOr mean debasement in his birth.\\nShall he not freely walk the earth,\\nIf truth and honor dwell within\\nThen like your fathers be,\\nAnd let the slave go free,\\nAnd like a band of brothers stand\\nAll one in liberty.\\n13*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0169.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "158 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nCOCIIECO.\\n[The Coclieco is a small, but beautiful river, which flows through\\na portion of the county of Strafford, in N. H. The scenery along\\nits borders is in many places pleasant and romantic and it is the\\nlocality of some of the descriptions in the poems on American\\nCottage Life. It empties into the Piscataqua.]\\nT IS not that the waves of Cocheco\\nAre purer or brighter of glow,\\nOr brighter the shrubs and the flowrets,\\nO er the waves of Cocheco that blow.\\nT is not, that the sumac, which blushes,\\nAs it bathes in its turbulent tide,\\nOr the song of the bird in its rushes,\\nAre better than thousands beside.\\nT is not that the meadows are greener.\\nOr the oak trees more towering and hoar,\\nOr the canopied heavens serener.\\nThan you ve witnessed an hundred times o er.\\nT is this, that so gladdens Cocheco,\\nIt shone on the times that have fled.\\nAnd the trees to be sure are the brightest.\\nThat full often have waved o er my head.\\nT is this, that the days of my childhood\\nHave played mong its elms and its vines.\\nAnd remembrance can count every wildwood,\\nAnd murmuring haunt where it shines.\\nT is this, that the waves of Cocheco\\nStill flow for the friends that are near,\\nT is this, that so makes its recesses.\\nIts shades, and its roses so dear.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0170.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "MAID OF SUNCOOK. 159\\nMAID OF SUNCOOK.\\n[Founded on certain painful events, unnecessary now to be\\nrepeated, which occurred some years since, in a family living in\\nthe neighborhood of the Suncook river, in N. H.]\\nYes, Edward, once I thought thee true.\\nAnd oh, too long did I believe thee\\nBut now my faith I dearly rue.\\nAnd wail, that e er thou couldst deceive me.\\nAnd couldst thou wring the bosom so,\\nThat lived, exulted to caress thee\\nOh, couldst thou rend this heart with woe.\\nWhen every throb arose to bless thee\\nTime was, when thou couldst call me fair.\\nAnd vow your love was mine forever\\nBut oh, those words were empty air.\\nThough stroncr to break the heart, deceiver\\nThen fare thee well, since thou wilt go,\\nAnd where thou canst, thy pleasures borrow\\nFor me, though grief is mine, and woe.\\nNo pangs shall goad my life to-morrow.\\nAnd if in death thine eyes behold me,\\nAnd watch thy Mary s pallid clay.\\nThink then of all thy lips have told me,\\nThink then, they flattered to betray.\\nThus Mary s voice her anguish spoke.\\nWhen shifting clouds on high were driven,\\nWhen screamed the night-bird from the oak,\\nAnd shone the troubled stars of Heaven.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0171.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "160 BALLADS AND SONGS.\\nAnd from the cliff o er Suncook s wave,\\nThat round its craggy base was breaking,\\nShe downward sought her watery grave,\\nAnd slept the sleep, that knows no waking.\\nSWEET HARP OF MY COUNTRY.\\nSweet harp of my country why hears not thy grot.\\nThrough its bright hollow chambers, thy minstrelsy\\nswelling?\\nHave thy chords their seducing enchantment forgot?\\nHave music and glory forsaken thy dwelling?\\nSweet harp of my country how many long days\\nOf silence, affliction, and sleep must we number,\\nEre the light of thy song shall console with its blaze.\\nAnd thy chords shall forever escape from their slumber\\nOh, soon may the wreaths, all unsullied and bright.\\nGrow verdantly round thee with splendor unbroken,\\nAnd thy halls utter music and spells of delight.\\nWith a magic too holy and high to be spoken.\\nOh, soon may some hand, more befitting than mine\\nWith a glow that is worthy rush skillfully o er thee.\\nAnd to all the dear wildness and sweetness, that s thine,\\nTo honor, to freedom, and virtue restore thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0172.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "THE\\nDOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS OFFERING.\\nPART SEC OND.\\nTHE RELIGIOUS OFFERING.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0173.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0174.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "THE\\nDOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS OFFERING.\\nPatmos, or Meditations in Solitude.\\nDark rolled the angry ocean s ceaseless wave,\\nAnd uttered loud his everlasting roar\\nAround the solitary rocks of Patmos.\\nThere sat the Prophet, shut out from the world,\\nHe, whom our Saviour loved, and bore him in\\nHis bosom, the endeared Apostle John\\nNow old and weak in body, strong in faith,\\nAn exile from mankind, but near to heaven.\\nSerene amid his sufferings, all his soul\\nWas wrapt in meditations, holy, high,\\nSuch as become Christ s humble followers.\\nHe thought on those, who are corrupt in sin,\\nThe fallen and rebellious race of men\\nHe thought on Him, who on the bloody cross\\nFor sinful men did bear a cruel death.\\nThough now exalted and enthroned in heaven\\nAnd with a heart full of devotion s fire.\\nMaintained communion with the Holy One,\\nPassages from an unfinished Poem.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0175.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "164 PATMOS, OR\\nWho on the Universe doth sit supreme,\\nThe God, Creator, Father of all things.\\nAnd every man may have his Patmos, his\\nSecluded place some solitary wood,\\nSwept ]by bright streams and cheered by small birds songs:\\nSome island in the midst of waters wide.\\nThat gently come and kiss its flowery feet\\nSome Bethel, such as that, where Jacob saw\\nAngels descend, and heard the voice of God\\nSome secret chamber, dedicate to prayer,\\nAs that where Daniel went three times a day.\\nNo matter where it is t is Patmos there.\\nWhere God is present, and where men are not\\nWhere there is voice within, but stillness round\\nWhere the rapt soul communes with things divine.\\nAnd earthly things are bidden far away.\\nINVOCATION.\\nWelcome, thrice welcome, then, thou lonely place\\nYe hours of blest retirement, ye lone woods,\\nYe changeless mountains, seldom trod by man,\\nYe midnight watches, when the pensile stars.\\nAnd silver moon, give their benignant smile\\nAnd in these favored seasons, places blest,\\nWithdrawn from clamorous strife, the foe of truth,\\nOh, may the Holy Spirit, Comforter\\nAnd Teacher of mankind, illume this heart.\\nDarkened with sin sustain my erring powers\\nRepel each evil purify each thought.\\nHe is the chosen Teacher men have sat\\nAt Plato s feet, or from wise Socrates", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0176.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE. 165\\nDrunk knowledge in, and been refreshed but those\\nWere human lights, and not divine the stars of earth,\\nAnd not of heavenly flame, too apt to lead astray.\\nBut He, the fountain of all truth, who gave\\nTo prophets inspiration in old days.\\nAnd rapt their spirits into future times,\\nUnerring knowledge sheds, and makes the poor\\nAnd low in heart, who feel and own their need.\\nMore wise than Greek, more wise than Roman sage.\\nMen looked on Patmos as a dreary place,\\nA dungeon made of solitary rocks.\\nWithout or flower, or budding tree, or song.\\nOr any source of joy, or hope, or love;\\nBut God did leave it not his angels stood\\nOn the sharp, pointed rocks, and viewless sung\\nSweet songs of peace, submission, blessed hope;\\nThe Christian exiles heard with ravished souls\\nAnd lonely, dark, and desert as it was,\\nThe Holy Ghost could change it into heaven.\\nGOD KNOWN FROM HIS WORKS.\\nOh, thou all-powerful God all just, all wise\\nMy heart before Thee bows, my intellect.\\nMy will. The powers which Thou hast given me,\\nWhate er their kind, whatever name they bear,\\nOh, may they e er united homage yield\\nOf faith, of feeling, and obedience.\\nHow can my faith be other than it is,\\nWhile I have ears to hear, and eyes to see,\\nAnd hands to handle, all the powers of touch,\\nAnd taste, and smell, and sight, which link me to\\nThe world of outward things, material forms\\n14", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0177.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "166 I ATMOS, OR\\nOf every shape and hue, instinct with life,\\nWith motion, beauty A voice within.\\nWhich t is not wise to stifle and repress,\\nProclaims, and loudly too, they have a cause.\\nHe, who stands up to read in nature s book,\\nInscribed with signatures distinct and bright,\\nMust have an eye obscured with unbelief.\\nAn edge of intellection dull indeed,\\nWho doth not find God s name in every page.\\nCreated things how great, how wonderful\\nMagnificently great, and fitted well\\nThe glory of their Author to express\\nTh invisible things of God, (so taught the blest\\nApostle,) are made known from things created,\\nE en his eternal power and Godhead. Then\\nBe mine to read his varied works, creation\\nTo peruse with humbleness, and thence to learn,\\nFrom aught that doth attract my wondering gaze.\\nThe marks and proofs of excellence divine.\\nPOWER OF GOD.\\nEre time began, the waters, heaving wide,\\nWrapped darkly round the formless void of chaos.\\nAnd through its shapeless realms t was blackness all.\\nGod said, ^^Lct there he light, and light there was;\\nGod thundered in the heavens, and the waves\\nOf the abyss were gathered to their place.\\nHe cleft the rocks, the rounded vales he cleft,\\nAnd poured the cascades, brooks, and rivers down.\\nE en from the shaggy mountains and high hills,\\nTo rest at last in the sea s coral halls.\\nThe cedars of Libanus he did make.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0178.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE, 167\\nWhere singing birds and beauteous build their nests\\nThe fir-trees, where the stork doth make its house.\\nHe gives the flower its hue and sinuous form\\nHe makes the leaf, that twinkles in the breeze,\\nAnd spreads its canopy o er weary travelers,\\nWith summer s heat oppressed. He frames the shell,\\nThat, with its wreathed and brightly spotted shape,\\nAdorns the ocean s sandy shores and depths.\\nAnd e en beneath the surface of the earth,\\nThe dark, hard crust, that gives itself to view,\\nGod works, surpassing human power and skill.\\nHe frames the precious ores, in texture firm.\\nMost beautiful, and durable as bright.\\nThere crystaline forms are found, of endless shape.\\nEnriched with each variety of hue\\nThere doth the many-colored opal shine\\nThere grow the beds of marble, Parian,\\nBrexia, Carrara, countless other names.\\nWhich, when brought forth to light, by artist wrought.\\nStand glorious in the pillared Capitol,\\nO erlaid with architrave and pediment\\nAnd oft in public halls, hold forth to view\\nThe chiseled features of the great and good,\\nThe friends and benefactors of mankind.\\nThus dost Thou Avork in secret by thyself.\\nAll animals are thine, no less than trees.\\nAnd shagged hills and the vast ocean deep.\\nAnd treasure-houses of earth s hidden min rals\\nNot less than the great sun, whose golden lamp\\nThou fillest every day, and the majestic moon.\\nThou givest strength unto the insect s wing;", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0179.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "168\\nThou mak st the music of the wild bird s song;\\nAnd when in the vast desert, where the foot\\nOf husbandman and shepherd never trod,\\nThe leopard and the lion seek their food,\\nAnd wake with thundering voice the echoing woods.\\nThou hearest, and they seek Thee not in vain.\\nThe sea is thine, as well as the dry land,\\nAnd creeping things innnmerous and strange,\\nAnd beasts both small and great, that in the ocean\\nHave their dwelling place. And there doth play\\nThe huge leviathan, armed at all points,\\nWith scales thick set as warriors of old time.\\nWith coats of mail. He sometimes sweeps along\\nThe coasts, and sailors in their boats affrighted flee.\\nAnd landsmen watch him from the distant hills.\\nBut all, oh God, are thine Thou mad st them all,\\nAnd givest them their meat in season due^\\nOMNISCIENCE OF GOD.\\nNor this thine only attribute wdth power\\nIs joined ability to search and know.\\nThou art a God of knowledge without bounds,\\nWiiose piercing thought no limits can restrain.\\nAs sweetly thine own Psalmist sung; Great is\\nThe Lord, his understanding infinite.\\nIsaiah too thy foresight hath proclaimed;\\nFrom the beginning thou declar dst the end,\\nFrom ancient times the things that are not done.\\nGod is himself an universal eye,\\nInvesting with its penetrating beam,\\nWhate er hath been, whatever yet shall be;\\nThe breadth, the height, the searchless depth of being.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0180.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE.\\nSometimes vain man doth most unwisely think,\\nThat Deity knows not his every act,\\nThat secret things are hidden from his view,\\nThat outward deeds, in open daylight done,\\nAnd these alone have place in his regards.\\nOh, cherish not the false, presumptuous thought\\nGod knows the inward, as the outward man\\nThe action of the heart, as of the limbs.\\nShall He, who hath so nicely framed the mind.\\nThat intricate and wondrous workmanship.\\nNot understand its powers Shall not He know.\\nWho constantly supports the soul he made,\\nIts thoughts, desires, emotions, judgments, passions 1\\nYes, he hath scanned them all. No darkness hides,\\nNo secrecy conceals but solemn night\\nIs as the noon-day blaze, all open to\\nHis sleepless eye, all naked, all exposed.\\nGo to the mountain tops, whose granite piles\\nListen to nought but the dark eagle s scream.\\nAnd the loud whistling of the felon winds\\nAnd God is there. Go to the pathless woods.\\nBy human foot ne er trod, where wild flowers spring,\\nAnd the grim wolf doth fiercely guard her young\\nAnd God is there. Go down and down to the\\nDark ocean depths, where the sea-serpent makes\\nHis slimy bed, o erhung with coral branches\\nAnd God is there. And say, where is He not?\\nT is He, that clothes the lily of the field\\nWith beauty more than that of Solomon\\nWith eye attentive both to man and beast.\\nHe feeds the raven hungering for food.\\nAnd notes the feeble sparrow, as it falls\\n14*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0181.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "170 PATMOS, OR\\nHe numbereth every hair upon thy head\\nAnd when dim evening comes with livery gray,\\nAnd throws her mantle o er the slumbering world,\\nAnd beast and bird have gone unto their couch.\\nAnd man himself hath closed his weary eye,\\nHe takes liis nightly round, protects thy door,\\nStands near thine unprotected place of rest.\\nTill his own sun, rejoicing in the east.\\nReturns to dissipate the ebon shades.\\nTo him, whose sight fair science hath not touched.\\nNor God s Eternal spirit proffered light.\\nThere may be marks of an imperfect sway.\\nDisorder in God s works, and want of wisdom.\\nT is in thy vision, not in him who made\\nIn thy weak understanding, not in God.\\nOn every side there are the signatures,\\nThe proofs and testimonies of, a mind\\nThat knew what it had planned, and planned it best.\\nJUSTICE OF GOD.\\nGod hath all power, all knowledge and that power\\nAnd knowledge doth he righteously employ\\nFor righteous ends. Deep in the universe\\nAre the foundations laid of right, of justice\\nImmutable foundations laid secure,\\nOf perfect right, justice unchangeable.\\nNo lapse of time, no change of circumstance.\\nNo mere appurtenance of name, or place, or rank,\\nCan alter rectitude, make that a crime\\nWhich virtuous was before, or moral wrong\\nConvert to moral good. Virtue and vice,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0182.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE. 171\\nStamped with their own peculiar attributes,\\nWith lines of beauty or with depths of shade,\\nHave their own fit, unalterable nature.\\nThough all things else should mingle, change, decay,\\nVirtue and vice remain the same, unchanged\\nThey dwell apart, and never can approach.\\nAnd virtue dwells in God, shining through all\\nHis character. Whate er he does is right\\nWhate er designs to do can ne er be wrong\\nAnd justice will He measure out to all.\\nThe dwellers in his measureless domains.\\nAdministered in his own way and time.\\nThough men of crimes and blood at times bear sway,\\nAnd men of truth and virtue wear the chain,\\nThere is a God above us; all is well.\\nThe heart, reposing fully upon Him,\\nHas nought of doubt or fear: but trusting firm\\nIn that great arm which rules the universe.\\nBeholds in partial evil general good.\\nAnd joins ihe song of angels round the throne,\\nHoly art Thou, oh God, and just and true\\nMen utter their complaints but not\\nWith right. T is not for man, child of the dust.\\nAnd being of an hour, to fathom and\\nExplore the height and depth and length and breadth\\nOf the omniscient sway. He cannot frame\\nAn insect s tiny wing; he cannot make\\nA blade of grass to grow perplexed and puzzled\\nBy the meanest thing that creeps the earth, or floats\\nUpon the air and shall his feeble mind\\nRun parallel with that of God Shall he,\\nWho knows but little, nor that little well,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0183.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "172 PATMOS, OR\\nAflfect to scrutinize the plans of heaven,\\nAnnouncing what is wrong and what is right?\\nT is God s prerogative and sovereign power,\\nTo bring from evil good, from bitter sweet.\\nGlory from shame, and joy from wretchedness.\\nWhen wide-spread havoc lays creation waste,\\nAnd when, on every side and place, arise\\nThe breathings of distress and sounds of woe,\\nHe opes a sudden light, dispels the gloom,\\nAnd shows that mercy nestled in the storm.\\nBehold from Afric s dark and suffering shore,\\nThe slave-ship comes. Beneath her pirate flag\\nSit mothers and their children, hopeless all.\\nIn mute, o erwelming, matchless misery.\\nHumanity sheds bitter, burning tears\\nAnd faith, e en as the bulrush, hangs her head\\nAnd all exclaim. How can it happen thus\\nHow can it be, that the just, awful God,\\nWho sits in heaven, and from whose searching eye\\nNothing escapes, who hath all might and power,\\nMillions of flamino- bands to guard his throne,\\nLets such dread scenes of crime go unavenged\\nNot so. The day of retribution comes.\\nThe day of lamentation, woe, remorse,\\nTo all the instruments of wickedness.\\nHe breaks the captive s bonds and sets him free.\\nHe bids the slave to speak in Chatham s tongue,\\nAnd kindles in his soul a Hampden s fire\\nAnd gives him higher views and better hopes.\\nAnd makes him know and feel, that he s a man.\\nAnd they, who came a poor, degraded thing,\\nWho knew the bitter pang, and that was all,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0184.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE. 173\\nNow wakened to a sense of their own rights,\\nTread, with a freeman s foot and heart, the soil,\\nWhich they so long have wet with tears and blood\\nOr thinking of their distant father land.\\nAnd filled with pity for the dwellers there,\\nReturn with bliss and acclamations high.\\nAnd carry arts, religion, freedom, peace.\\nTHE DIVINE MERCY.\\nAnd Thou art merciful as just. Thy deeds,\\nBy justice guided, prompted are by love.\\nOn Sinai s mount of old Thou didst descend.\\nAnd to thy servant Moses there proclaim,\\nThe Lord in goodness and in truth abundant.\\nThe Lord, long-suffering, gracious, merciful.\\nIniquity forgiving, sin, transgression.\\nFor thousands keeping mercy. Free it flows.\\nAs summer brooks, where shepherds flocks do drink,\\nAnd visits all. It has its fountain in\\nTh Eternal Mind, and while that Mind remains\\nThe same as it has ever been, with all\\nPerfection marked, and excellence adorned,\\nMercy shall be its glorious attribute.\\nAnd who is he, to whom it is dispensed\\nWho the recipient, on whom t is poured?\\nIs it not man, poor, feeble, sinful man\\nA rebel against God, whose passions are\\nArrayed and prompt to violate the hands,\\nThat shower these mercies down How wondrous then\\nThy goodness How sublime When man forgets\\nThee, and is occupied with his own lusts,\\nThy mercy still attends him, gives him food,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0185.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "174 PATMOS, OR\\nProtects him from the dangers that beset,\\nProvides for every want with watchful care,\\nAs thouorh he loved Thee, thought of Thee alone.\\nBut most of all, thou gav st thine only Son.\\nHerein is love, compassion, mercy s self,\\nThat Jesus died for us, when we were sinners.\\nThough equal with the Father, and arrayed\\nWith attributes that bowed the orlowinor hearts\\nOf angels and seraphic natures high\\nHe took upon himself man s fleshly form.\\nAnd toiled and taught and met with keen rebuke,\\nAnd died at last to save his enemies.\\nGod aims to renovate, and strives to save.\\nNor willing smites the creatures he hath made.\\nHe seeks to change unreasonable hate\\nTo love, and render happy those, who have\\nDestroyed themselves. And, with such merciful ends,\\nHe uses various means, adapted to the state\\nAnd wants of those, whom he would guide and bless;\\nTo glory guide, and bless with endless bliss.\\nGOD MERCIFUL IN JUDGMENTS.\\nWhom God doth love, he chastens and reproves.\\nWhen worldly lusts cleave to his followers,\\nThe love of honor, wealth, or carnal ease,\\nHe purifies the soul, as if by fire\\nWith a consuming flame he burns the dross,\\nAnd thus brings out the lustre of the ore.\\nHe makes the wealthy poor, the honored base.\\nSends racking pains on dwellers at their ease,\\nAnd thus by sorrow, makes his people hear,\\nWho, when He spoke in mercy, closed their ears.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0186.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE. 175\\nOr listened but to the world s syren songs.\\nParents have loved their children more than God,\\nAnd then, to save the sire, he takes the son.\\nAnd plucks the daughter from the mother s arms,\\nAnd makes them full of tears and desolate.\\nBut call him not unmerciful, unkind;\\nT is seeming cruelty, substantial love\\nA father s heart beneath a frowning face.\\nAs, in the parched and thirsty wilderness,\\nMoses did smite the rock, whence came relief\\nTo Israel s famished multitude, so God\\nDoth smite, and smite with an almighty arm\\nBut from the wounded, broken, bleeding heart,\\nHe gently draws perennial blessings out\\nSubmission, penitence, returning joy,\\nEnduring love and everlasting life.\\nEFFICACY OF PRAYER.\\nThere is a power in supplicating lips.\\nThere is in every good man s fervent prayer\\nA potency and it availeth much.\\nMark yonder aged man, unknown to fame,\\nWho dwells in some lone cot remote, unseen,\\nEmbosomed deep in thick, embowering trees.\\nThough poor, unhonored, ignorant perchance,\\nAt night he calls around his modest hearth\\nHis family, and reads the Word of God,\\nWith serious look, the index of his heart.\\nAnd then devoutly prays. Prayer is his breath.\\nAt morning, noon, and night his humble cry,\\nPrompted by penitence, and hope, and love.\\nIs upward sent from a believing soul.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0187.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "176 PATMOS, OR\\nIs there no power in that And is his prayer,\\nUnknown and all unhonored as he is.\\nUttered in vain? Oh, no! It cannot be;\\nBut mounting upward to the God of heaven,\\nAnd to Jehovah s bosom penetrating,\\nIt works its purpose. Those, who never heard\\nHis name or place, too low for their regards,\\nMay yet the blessing reap, unmeasured good.\\nOh, for a spirit of prayer devout and deep,\\nA fervency and power of supplication,\\nA ceaseless call and knocking at the gate\\nAnd sanctuary of the Most High God,\\nThe giving up of soul Elijah prayed with.\\nThe fervency of Paul, or, more than either.\\nHis power of prayer, who in the Garden prayed.\\nSpending whole nights Then would the mourner s heart\\nWith joy be filled the sinner s dark career\\nOf guilt be stopped the churches rise and from\\nThe dust would shake themselves, and soon be seen\\nWearing their shining robes. All nature calls.\\nThroughout her wide and complicate domain,\\nFor more and deeper intercourse with God,\\nWho gives the surety of his sacred Word,\\nThat praying breath is never spent in vain.\\nTHE GOOD SHEPHERD.\\nThe Shepherd loves his flock with care he guides\\nThem to the pleasant pasture grounds and brooks.\\nThat murmur music soft, and kiss the roots\\nOf elm and scented birch. And ever and\\nAnon with pastoral pipe he breathes a strain.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0188.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "MEDITATIONS IN SOLITUDE. 177\\nThat flocks, and streams, and woods, delight to hear.\\nOh, Christ Thou art our Shepherd, and we hear,\\nEntranced with deepest ravishment, thy voice.\\nSweeter than sound of earthly shepherd s lute,\\nFor thine own lips have said, know my sheep^\\nYes, Thou dost know them not a lamb shall stray,\\nEntangled in the depths of woods remote.\\nBut Thou wilt mark its wanderings, and restore\\nIt safe to thine own chosen, cherished fold.\\nMEDITATION.\\nThe Christian loves to meditate alone\\nFor when alone, he s not in solitude.\\nBut holds communion with the mighty God,\\nAnd with his Son divine. Therefore he seeks\\nThe far remote and solitary place,\\nThe secrecy of woods, the walk retired,\\nThe banks of rivers, where the herb and flower\\nIn silent beauty speak their Maker s praise,\\nThe mountain and its caverned sanctuaries.\\nAnd hence to him the preciousness of night,\\nOf moonless, starless, solitary night;\\nFor when the bright array of lighted heaven\\nIs closed up in the universal blot\\nOf beauty, stars within the soul shine forth.\\nWith golden ray melting the darkened veil\\nOf unbelief, of sorrow, and of doubt,\\nAnd bathing with a flood of light the heart.\\n15", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0189.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "178 THE SABBATH.\\nI\\nThe Sabbath.\\nI.\\nIt is the time of rest, the Sabbath day,\\nThat summons from the heart the gentle strain\\nNor well may those withhold the votive lay,\\nWho know the joys, that follow in its train.\\nThe Sabbath What associations cling,\\nHoly and high, to that beloved name\\nIt is not mine upon poetic wing\\nTo soar aloft, and bear it forth to fame\\nBut e en from one like me a tribute it may claim.\\nII.\\nHow pleasantly above the eastern hill\\nIts dawning comes Its golden light doth rest.\\nAll undisturbed, on tree, and bank, and rill,\\nAnd laughing creeps into the wild bird s nest.\\nThe little bird, borne high on dewy wings,\\nRenews his song there is no other sound\\nSave where the bubbling brook in concert sings,\\nAnd lowing ox sends loud his joys around.\\nNo longer to the yoke in patient labor bound.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0190.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "THE SABBATH. 179\\nIII.\\nAnd why should hapless man forever moil,\\nNor rest to body or to soul impart\\nSix days in seven are long enough for toil,\\nThe other shines for worship and the heart.\\nWhen God, the Maker, framed the rising earth,\\nFrom night and dull chaotic forms released,\\nAnd singing stars proclaimed its wondrous birth,\\nUpon the seventh morn his labor ceased\\nHe sanctified the Day to wearied man and beast.\\nIV.\\nHe gave it to the rich alike and poor\\nHe blessed and hallowed it, till time shall end\\nAnd bade its light the languid limb restore,\\nAnd come to prisoner and to slave a friend.\\nWhen o er the hills its signal is displayed,\\nSilence shall reign, the city s murmur cease,\\nThe fervent haste of rural toil be stayed.\\nE en the tired steer, that knows but little peace,\\nShall claim its sacred hours, and gain a short release.\\nV.\\nThis is the honor of its sacred ray\\nThe blessings these, that fly upon its wing\\nWhere er it comes, tired labor hies away.\\nAnd he, who toiled, will sit him down and sing.\\nSee how the scythe hangs idly on the tree\\nNo sound is heard from yonder noisy mill\\nThe busy maiden s wheel stands silently\\nThe smiting spade hath ceased the earth to till.\\nThe plough is in the glebe the ringing anvil still.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0191.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "180\\nTHE SABBATH,\\nVI.\\nIt is a day of rest for passion too\\nPale DISCONTENT no longer clouds his brow\\nAnger, that looked with stern, distorted view,\\nCalms his loud voice, and smooths his aspect now.\\nE en AVARICE, with firm relentless hold,\\nUnclenches his hard grasp and patient sits,\\nNor scrambles here and there for muckle gold,\\nAs if beset for life or out of wits\\nAnd JEALOUSY no more shakes in his green-eyed fits.\\nVII.\\nBut there are other visitants for, lo.\\nDevotion comes with sweeping length of stole\\nIn her raised eye the sacred fervors glow,\\nDisclosing clear her purity of soul.\\nTwo little children gather at her side,\\nThe one, called penitence, doth hardly dare\\nTo raise her mourning eye and with her hair\\nShe wipes away the tears, she would not hide\\nNo longer shall her feet in sinful paths abide.\\nVIII.\\nThe other child, that held the parent hand,\\nWith eye undimmed by shadows or by tears,\\n(Her gentle name is love,) doth smiling stand,\\nWith glowing heart, that hath noplace for fears;\\nBut peace upon her open brow doth shine.\\nAnd joy is penciled on her aspect bright.\\nWhoever to her presence may incline.\\nWill find their sorrows vanish at the sight\\nShe doth but speak a word, and fills them with delight.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0192.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THE SABBATH. 181\\nIX.\\nPeace breathes in all around. The smoke ascends\\nFrom yonder cottage through the silent air\\nQ,uick with the scene Imagination blends,\\nAnd sees beside the hearth the Grandsire there.\\nHe reads aloud the venerated Book,\\nHis form bent low, his tresses silver gray\\nAnd, quickened by his words and serious look,\\nThe children, mindful of tha Sabbath day,\\nBestow the patient ear, and learn the better way.\\nX.\\nThe Sabbath to the cottager is dear,\\nBecause it welcomes to the hearth s bright blaze,\\nThe sons and daughters, who in toil severe\\nFulfill, remote from home, the other days.\\nTheir home, sweet home, is pleasant in their eyes\\nBut they are poor, and work gives honest bread.\\nThe Sabbath light, that gilds the ruddy skies,\\nAnd sees them gathered in their humble shed,\\nCalls from the parent heart fresh blessings on their head.\\nXI.\\nNor man alone is blest. The lowing herd,\\nThat crowd around his door, express their joy\\nThe wild beast of the wood, the mounting bird,\\nThat high at heaven s gate finds sweet employ.\\nImbibe the chartered mercies of the day.\\nNo longer by the faithless hook betrayed,\\nThe spotted trout darts in his wonted play.\\nThe hare, that nestled in the thickest shade,\\nNow leaps across the path, and o er the sunny glade.\\n15*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0193.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "182 THE SABBATH.\\nXII.\\nIt is the day of Worship. Where the rill,\\nBright with the sunbeams, gives its soothing sound,\\nThe Church adorns the gently rising hill.\\nAnd flowers spring up, and trees are planted round.\\nThe villagers, within its sacred wall.\\nAre wont upon the Sabbath s hours to meet,\\nUpon the great Creator s name to call.\\nAnd pour their homage at the Saviour s feet,\\nIn supplication s voice, and anthem simply sweet.\\nXIII.\\nAnd now it is the customary time.\\nWhen to their rural temple they repair.\\nFilled with the thoughts of duty, pure, sublime,\\nThe Holy Bible in their hands they bear.\\nMatrons their little flock prepare to lead\\nAnd village maids, in youth s rejoicing bloom,\\nAnd feeble, aged men, the staff that need.\\nAnd childhood gay, with Sunday frock and plume,\\nChurchward their solemn way at wonted hour resume.\\nXIV.\\nAnd from the holy place behold him rise,\\nGod s messenger his locks are thin and white;\\nHe upward lifts his mildly glancing eyes.\\nAnd supplicates the God of life and light.\\nNot with mere lips, but with the spirit s breath\\nFor in his mind it is no vulgar prize.\\nTo pluck the soul from sin, and woe, and death.\\nAnd plant it, starlike, in the spotless skies.\\nTo shine with quenchless blaze, when man and nature dies.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0194.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "THE SABBATH. 183\\nXV.\\nHe was indeed the shepherd of his fold,\\nAnd sought in body and in soul their good.\\nUnbribed to labor by the charms of gold,\\nHe patient toiled, and strong in virtue stood.\\nThe sordid ties, that human hearts control,\\nThe bonds of earth, swayed not his stedfast mind,\\nThat pointed, like the needle to the pole.\\nTo Him, who died to rescue human kind\\nIn nothing else did he abiding pleasure find.\\nXVI.\\nSometimes his cherished people mourned their dead\\nPerhaps a darling child his head doth bow\\nAnd bitter are the tears the parents shed,\\nAs they bend o er the loved one s pallid brow.\\nAt that sad hour the constant pastor near\\nHis sympathy and consolation lends.\\nSkillful, he wipes away the mourner s tear.\\nAnd shows that God, in what of ill he sends,\\nThough now his ways are dark, some secret good intends.\\nXVII.\\nHis days were days of watchfulness and prayer,\\nAnd, while he trod himself the narrow road.\\nHe taught the lost to turn their footsteps there,\\nAnd cast away transgression s heavy load.\\nAnd for their help he plead the Holy Page,\\nThe promise fair, in words of light displayed,\\nThat those, who tread the heavenly pilgrimage\\nAnd humbly seek, shall have the needed aid,\\nTo the Redeemer dear, though oft by sins betrayed.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0195.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "184 THE SABBATH.\\nXVIII.\\nNor was he all unheeded but his voice,\\nAs if an angel s joyous lips were nigh,\\nAvailed to make the trembling heart rejoice\\nNor seldom penitence bedewed the eye\\nOf those, who long the Savior set at nought.\\nThen was his spirit glad peace filled his soul.\\nIf he availed, by heavenly wisdom taught,\\nTo lead from sin, and its attendant dole,\\nE en one to better paths and virtue s blest control.\\nXIX.\\nYes, there s a rest, he said, a Sabbath near,\\nMore pure and holy than we now behold.\\nThere may we all, in long communion dear.\\nTogether meet, the shepherd and the fold.\\nPeace to his silent dust And may he find,\\nAs o er that Sabbath clime his feet shall tread.\\nThe wanderer and the lost, the halt and blind.\\nBy precept taught and by example led.\\nUp to the realms of light, to Christ their blessed head.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0196.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "EVENING REFLECTIONS. 185\\nEvening Reflections.\\nHushed was the tumult of the day,\\nThe evenincr s wonted breeze was still:\\nThe placid moon, with silver ray,\\nChequered the groves of vale and hill,\\nAnd not a cloud o er all the sky,\\nWas witnessed by my wandering eye.\\nThe light was out in each lone cot,\\nThe farmer slept at nature s call,\\nAnd sound or action reached me not.\\nSave but the cricket in the wall.\\nThe beast was on his lair his breast\\nThe bird had pillowed on his nest.\\nThdn thought my soul of each dear scene,\\nWhere childhood sported gay and boon\\nThe gambols on the village green,\\nBeneath the pale and watchful moon.\\nWhen friends and nature had a charm\\nThe sting of sorrow to disarm.\\nNor did my soul find resting here\\nBut prompted by this hour of bliss,\\nShe soared above this earthly sphere,\\nAnd found a scene more calm than this\\nA heaven, where there is endless joy.\\nNo cares invade, no griefs annoy.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0197.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "186 SENNACHERIB.\\nS e n 11 a c Ii e r i b\\nThen the angel of the Lord went forth, and smote in the camp\\nof the Assyrians, an hundred and four-score and five thousand\\nand when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all\\ndead corpses So Sennacherib, king of Assyria, departed. Isa.\\nxxxvii. 36, 37.]\\nThe trumpet pealed its joyful cry,\\nThe coal-black war-horse neighed\\nThe glittering banner floated high,\\nWith heart of steel and threatening eye\\nEach warrior drew his blade.\\nThe setting sun at close of day,\\nO er Carmel s mount of dew,\\nBathed with its light the proud array\\nOf champing steeds and plumage gay,\\nAnd flags that glittering flew.\\nBut lo The morn returns from far,\\nAnd snowy plume and sword,\\nThe haughty chief, the steed of war,\\nThe lifted trump, the smoking car,\\nHave fall n before the Lord.\\nGod s angel, like the desert s blast,\\nCame flying down the sky\\nHe hurled his vengeance as he past,\\nAnd every warrior breathed his last,\\nAnd closed was every eye.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0198.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "DYING THOUGHTS. 187\\nOh Lord, with Thee is endless might,\\nTo Thee be endless praise\\nFor Thou canst curb the crimson fight,\\nThe warrior s plume of glory blight.\\nAnd quench his armor s blaze.\\nDying Thoughts.\\nFor what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world\\nand lose his own soul or what shall a man give in exchange for\\nhis soul? Matt. xvi. 26.]\\nMy spirit sinks beneath death s chilling blight,\\nEarth s stars and suns no more for me shall shine\\nBut in eternity s broad, searching light,\\nHow shall I stand with such a heart as mine\\nA heart so prone to earth, so far from God,\\nIn mercy p hour so vain, and so ingrate.\\nSo unsubmissive neath affliction s rod.\\nSo full of evil at its best estate\\nWith such a darkened heart I m called to steer\\nMy bark upon Eternity s broad sea;\\nMy sails are all afloat, and loud I hear\\nThe torrent waves dash wide and fearfully.\\nAnd shall I perish Lost or not, I go\\nOh, God To thee at this dread hour I turn.\\nOh, whisper to my soul, and let me know\\nThe humbled sinner Thou wilt never spurn.\\nHast Thou not said it Dark I am, impure\\nAnd only through Thy love, my soul can be secure.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0199.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "Scripture Sonnets.\\n(l.) THE LIBERTY OF THE GOSPEL.\\nJesus answered them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, whosoev-\\ner committeth sin is the servant of sin. If the Son, therefore, shall\\nmake you free, ye shall be free indeed. John viii. 34, 36.]\\nIf thou, oh God, wilt make my spirit free,\\nThen will that darkened soul be free indeed;\\nI cannot break my bonds, apart from thee,\\nWithout tky help I bow and serve and bleed.\\nArise, oh Lord, and in thy matchless strength,\\nAsunder rend the links my heart that bind,\\nAnd liberate and raise and save, at length,\\nMy long enthralled and subjugated mind.\\nAnd then with strength and beauty in her wings,\\nMy quickened soul shall take an upward flight,\\nAnd in thy blissful presence. King of kings,\\nRejoice in liberty and life and light.\\nIn renovated power and conscious truth.\\nIn faith and cheerful hope, inlov^e and endless youth.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0200.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS, 189\\n(ll.) DIVINE LIGHT.\\nFor Thou art my lamp, Oh Lord and the Lord Trill enlighten\\nmy darkness. The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he\\nhath anointed me to preach recovery of sight to the blind. 2\\nSam. xxii. 29 Luke iv. 18.]\\nOn every side mysterious things abound,\\nIn earth and sky and ocean s deep domain,\\nWhich man s poor reason utterly confound.\\nBeyond his power to fathom or explain.\\nHis mind is dark. In what way shall he see\\nOh, God Form thou thine image in my heart,\\nImplant thy likeness in my spiritual part,\\nAnd help me to behold all things in thee.\\nThou art the source of light. That light, when through\\nMy darkened mind its radiance is streaming,\\nIn all its shadowy, secret places beaming.\\nAt once dispels the dimness of my view.\\nIn thy light seeing light, my raptured eye\\nDoth every where behold love and infinity.\\n16", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0201.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "190 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(ill.) THE GOOD SHEPHERD.\\nThe Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want he maketh me\\nto lie down in the green pastures he leadeth me beside the still\\nwaters. Ps. xxiii. 1, 2.]\\nBlest Jesus Thou the gentle Shepherd art,\\nThat watchest for thy flock with sleepless care\\nThe lambs within thy bosom thou dost bear,\\nAnd warm the sick and fainting on thy heart.\\nWhen beats the heated sun upon their head.\\nAnd heaviness oppresses thy poor flock,\\nThen dost thou lead them to some shadowy rock,\\nOr where umbrageous trees are overspread.\\nTo pastures thou dost guide us by thy crook.\\nWhere tender plants and buds and flowrets grow,\\nFlowers red and white, that bend o er waves below.\\nThe peaceful waves of many a cooling brook.\\nOh, gentle Shepherd guide us on our way,\\nWatch o er thy tender lambs, nor let them go astray.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0202.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 191\\n(iV.) FEAR OF DEATH.\\nFor I am in a strait bet-^ixt two, having a desire to depart, and\\nto be with Christ which is far better. Phil. i. 23.]\\nThe body perishes, but not the mmd\\nThe outward man decays, but that within\\nShall grow more pure and bright, like gold refined,\\nRebuilt in strength, and separate from sin.\\nE en now I feel the purifying flame,\\nA fire from heaven is kindling in my heart,\\nDiffusing greater joy than words can name.\\nAnd pouring light through all the mental part.\\nThat fire shall burn long after the sad hour,\\nWhen death shall bring the body to the grave\\nIncreasing in its brightness and its power,\\nLong as eternal ages roll their wave.\\nWhy should we tremble, then, and fear to die\\nDeath but unbinds the soul, and frees us for the sky.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0203.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "192\\nSCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(v.) THE POWER OF GOD IN CREATION.\\nHearken unto me, Jacob and Israel, my called I am He j I\\nam the first I also am the last. Mine hand also hath laid the foun-\\ndation of the earth, and my right hand hath spanned out the Heav-\\nens. Isaiah xlviii. 12, 13.]\\nThe boundless heavens, oh Lord, are made by Thee,\\nAnd Thou hast made the stars that through them gleam,\\nAnd Thou, the silver moon with placid beam\\nThey all proclaim Thy power and majesty.\\nAnd Thou hast made the earth and all its fountains,\\nThe fountains, where the wild beast slakes its throat\\nThe myriads of birds, with vernal note,\\nCheering the forests waving on the mountains.\\nAnd thou hast made the sea and all therein,\\nIts caverned solitudes and rocky shore,\\nIts heaving waves and everlasting roar,\\nIts fishes and its huge Leviathan.\\nGreat God The everlasting God art Thou\\nBefore Thee let all hearts with humble reverence bow,", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0204.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 193\\n(VI.) THE SABBATH.\\nRemember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. Six days shalt\\nthou labor, and do all thy work. But the seventh day is the Sab-\\nbath of the Lord, thy God. Exod. xx. 8, 9, 10.]\\nOur nation s glory is her Sabbath s light,\\nThe day of quiet, purity, and rest.\\nHer children then in holy acts unite.\\nThe world forgotten, worldly cares repressed.\\nThis is the day, of all the week the best,\\nThe source of private bliss and public power\\nMay praises, poured from the believing breast,\\nAnd humble suplications fill each hour.\\nAnd in our day of woe, our trying time.\\nThe Sabbath s God shall lend a listening ear,\\nAnd coming swift upon the clouds sublime.\\nFor our protection and defence appear.\\nHe is the friend and helper of the cause\\nOf those who venerate and keep his holy laws.\\n16*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0205.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "194 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(VII.) NECESSITY OF DIVINE ILLUMINATION.\\nBat the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of\\nGod; for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them,\\nbecause they are spiritually discerned. 1 Cor.ii. 14.]\\nOh, send one ray into my sightless ball,\\nTransmit one beam into my darkened heart\\nOn Thee, Almighty God, on Thee I call,\\nIncline thy listening ear, thine aid impart\\nIn vain the natural sun his beams doth yield,\\nIn vain the moon illumes the fields of air\\nThe eye-sight of my soul is quenched and sealed,\\nAnd what is other light, if shades are there\\nBeyond the sun and moon I lift my gaze.\\nWhere round thy throne a purer light is spread.\\nWhere seraphs fill their urns from that bright blaze.\\nAnd angels souls with holy fires are fed.\\nOh, send from that pure fount one quickening ray,\\nAnd change these inward shades to bright and glorious day.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0206.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNNTS. 195\\n(VIII.) RESTORATION TO THE DIVINE IMAGE.\\nWe are changed into the same image from glory to glory,\\neven as by the Spirit of the Lord. 2 Cor. iii. 18.]\\nUpon the morning flower the dew s small drop,\\nSo small as scarcely to arrest the eye,\\nReceives the rays from all of heaven s wide cope,\\nAnd images the bright and boundless sky.\\nAnd thus the heart, when t is renewed by grace,\\nRecalled from error, purified, erect,\\nReceives the image of Jehovah s face,\\nAnd though a drop, the Godhead doth reflect.\\n[t hath new light, new truth, new purity,\\nA rectitude unknown in former time,\\nA love, that in its arms of charity\\nEncircles every land and every clime\\nSubmission, and in God a humble trust,\\nAnd quickened life to all, that s pure and kind and just.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0207.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "196 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(iX.) THE BLESSED NAME OF CHRIST.\\nIf ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye\\nfor the Spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you. On their part he\\nis evil spoken of, but on your part he is glorified. 1 Peter, iv. 14.]\\nWhate er our griefs in life, whate er in death,\\nIf doomed perchance to feel the martyr s flame.\\nStill, with our last and agonizing breath.\\nIn joy will we repeat Christ s precious name\\nOh there s a magic in that glorious word\\nNo other has such power the mighty voice.\\nFrom senatorial lips and patriots heard.\\nCan ne er like this enkindle, rouse, rejoice.\\nFor Christ s dear name the saints, without a groan,\\nIn times of old met death upon their knees\\nFor Christ s dear name the lonely Piedmontese\\nDown headlong o er the crimson rocks were thrown.\\nThat blessed name gives hope and strength and zeal.\\nThat sets at nought alike the flood, the fire, the steel.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0208.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 197\\n(X.) TRUE RECTITUDE.\\nAnd herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience\\nvoid of offence toward God and toward men. Acts xxiv. 16.]\\nWhat constitutes the true nobility\\nNot wealth, nor name, nor outward pomp, nor power\\nFools have them all and vicious men may be\\nThe idols and the pageants of an hour.\\nBut t is to have a good and honest heart,\\nAbove all meanness and above all crime.\\nAnd act the right and honorable part\\nIn every circumstance of place and time.\\nHe, who is thus, from God his patent takes,\\nHis Maker formed him the true nobleman\\nWhate er is low and vicious he forsakes,\\nAnd acts on rectitude s unchanging plan.\\nThings change around him changes touch not him\\nThe star, that guides his path, fails not, nor waxes dim.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0209.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "198 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XI.) SUBJECTION TO GOD.\\nSee now that I, evenj, am he, and there is no God with me I\\nkill and I make alive I wound and I heal neither is there any\\nthat can deliver out of my hand. Deut. xxxii. 39.]\\nSometimes doth my up-lifted heart suggest\\nIt is not good Jehovah s yoke to bear\\nForgive, oh God, the thought, and teach my breast\\nThere s safety in thine arm, and only there.\\nIf God be not my master, where s my place\\nIf I his kingdom leave, where shall I go\\nE en frighted Chaos bows before his face,\\nAnd Hell s dark world doth his dominion know.\\nMay my poor will, O God, be bowed to thine,\\nEach thought, each purpose, feeling, as thine own.\\nEver harmonious with thy great design,\\nAnd humbly circling round the central throne.\\nIn thee I live, with thee move joyous on,\\nWithout thy power am lost, extinct, and gone.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0210.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 199\\n(XII.) THE MILLENNIAL DAY.\\nThey shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain\\nfor the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the\\nwaters cover the sea. Isa. xi. 9.]\\nUpon God s Holy Mountain all is peace.\\nOf clanging arms and cries and wail, no sound\\nGoes up to mingle with the gentle breeze,\\nThat bears its perfumed whispers all around.\\nBeneath its trees that spread their blooming light,\\nThe spotted leopard walks the ox is there\\nThe yellow lion stands in conscious might,\\nBeneath the dewy and illumined air.\\nA little child doth take him by the mane.\\nAnd leads him forth, and plays beneath his breast.\\nNought breaks the quiet of that blest domain,\\nNought mars its harmony and heavenly rest\\nPicture divine and emblem of that day,\\nWhen peace on earth and truth shall hold unbroken sway", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0211.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "200 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XIII.) THE SOVEREIGN WILL.\\nThou hast a mighty arm strong is thy hand, and high is thy\\nright hand. Psalm Ixxxix. 13.]\\nThere is one ruling power, one sovereign will,\\nOne sum and centre of efficiency.\\nT is like the mystic wheel within the wheel\\nThe prophet saw at Chebar. Its decree\\nGoes from the centre to the utmost bounds\\nOf universal nature. Its embrace\\nAnd penetrating touch pervades, surrounds\\nWhate er has life or form or time or place.\\nIt garnishes the heavens, and it gives\\nA terror and a voice to ocean s wave.\\nIn all the pure and gilded heights it lives,\\nNor less in earth s obscurest, deepest cave.\\nAround, above, below its might is known.\\nEncircling great and small, the footstool and the throne.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0212.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS, 201\\n(XIV.) HE STANDETH AT THE DOOR.\\nMy head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of\\nthe night. Cant. v. 2.]\\nThe stars are shining from their depths of blue,\\nAnd one is standing at the door and knocks\\nHe knocks to enter in. His raven locks\\nAre heavy with the midnight s glittering dew.\\nHe is our Friend and great his griefs have been,\\nThe thorns, the cross, the garden s deep distress,\\nWhich he hath suffered for our happiness\\nAnd shall we not arise, and let him in\\nAll hail, thou chosen one, thou source of bliss\\nCome with thy bleeding feet, thy wounded side\\nAlas, for us Thou hast endured all this\\nEnter our doors, and at our hearth abide\\nChill are the midnight dews, the midnight air\\nCome to our hearts and homes, and make thy dwelling there.\\n17", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0213.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "202 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XV.) CONFIDENCE IN GOD IN BEREAVEMENTS.\\nA voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weep-\\ning Rachel, weeping for her children, refused to be comforted for\\nher children, because they were not. Jer. xxxi. 15.]\\nWhy has my child, my darling child departed?\\nWhy has my God in wrath that loved one taken\\nLeaving me desolate and broken-hearted.\\nO er whelmed and prostrate, hopeless and forsaken.\\nAnd is it all in wrath that I am smitten,\\nAnd pressed with burdens heavy to be borne\\nHope yet, my soul, in God, for he hath written\\nWith his own finger. Messed are they who mourn.\\nPerhaps I loved my child more than my God,\\nNeglecting and forgetting every other,\\nAnd He in mercy sent the chastening rod.\\nAnd took away the child to save the mother.\\nFarewell, then, earth Why should I look below?\\nI too will take my staff, and weeping heavenward go.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0214.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 203\\n(XVI.) THE LIGHT OF FAITH.\\nThese all died in faith, not having received the promises, but\\nhaving seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and em-\\nbraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims\\non the earth. Heb. xi. 13.]\\nThe light of Faith doth guide us kindly on,\\nLike Israel s cloud by day and fire by night.\\nHigh o er our heads, its splendor waxes bright,\\nWhen every other blaze is dark and gone.\\nBy Faith did Noah sail upon the flood,\\nBy Faith did Abraham offer up his son\\nBy Faith the prophets and apostles won\\nA crown in heaven, on earth a crown of blood.\\nTheir journey here was through a sea of flame\\nThey trod it fearless, for before their eye\\nThe star of faith shone brightly in the sky,\\nAnd showed upon each beam Christ s blessed name.\\nOh, let it shine for us, till we, as they,\\nShafl climb these rugged cliffs, and reach the hills of day.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0215.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "204 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XVII.) MEEKNESS OF SPIRIT.\\nBlessed are the meek j for they shall inherit the earth. Bless-\\ned are the peace makers for they shall be called the children of\\nGod. Mat. V. 5; 9.]\\nWhen there are clouds and tempests in the mind,\\nAnd peace and mercy are by wrath displaced,\\nIt breaks the plan of love which heaven designed,\\nAnd turns the blooming garden to a waste.\\nThen keep thy soul in peace and quietness.\\nAnd strive each evil passion to restrain.\\nAnd God will smile upon thee, and will bless.\\nAnd his bright image in thy breast maintain.\\nHe, who did bow his blessed head in woe.\\nThe Saviour of the meek and lowly heart,\\nDid he not pray for those who struck the blow,\\nAnd bless the ruffian hand that aimed the dart\\nOh, be like Him, calm, patient, self-controlled.\\nHe, who can rule himself, has richer wealth than gold.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0216.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 20^\\n(XVIII.) GOD ANGRY WITH REBELLIOUS NATIONS.\\nTherefore, thus saith the Lord God, I will even rend it with a\\nstormy wind in my fury and there shall be an overflowing shower\\nin mine anger, and great hail-stones in my fury to consume it.\\nEzek.xiii. 13.]\\nOh, God when nations rise against thy power,\\nAnd stand with haughty and rebellious eye\\nThen do the angry, muttering thunders lower,\\nAnd stormy lightenings cleave the trembling sky.\\nOh, who, unscathed, thy vengeance shall defy.\\nThy day of desolation, blood, and flame\\nJehovah is not man, that he should lie.\\nAnd see dishonor put upon his name.\\nHe buried haughty Babylon in dust,\\nE en his beloved Zion felt the rod\\nThere is no hope, no confidence, no trust.\\nBut in the favor and the arm of God.\\nHis friends are safe, secure from every foe.\\nHis enemies shall bow, and fall beneath his blow.\\n17*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0217.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "206 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XIX.) GOD RIGHTEOUS IN JUDGMENTS.\\nClouds and darkness are round about him; righteousness\\nand judgment are the habitation of his throne. Vs. xcvii. 2.]\\nSad is my heart, embittered with deep grief,\\nE en as a bulrush I bow down my head\\nThe dark, substantial clouds are overspread,\\nI see no friendly hand, find no relief\\nNo more I taste the joys which once I tasted.\\nMy hopes, my honors, and my pleasures flown\\nThere s nought on earth which I can call my own\\nAll blackened, withered, torn away, and wasted,\\nAnd, in their stead, afflictive tears and woe.\\nOh, give me faith, Thou holy, sovereign Power,\\nThat I may know the hand that smites me so.\\nOh, give me faith, when the dark tempests lower,\\nTo yield Thee reverence and submission due\\nThou art the righteous God, thy judgments just and true.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0218.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 207\\n(XX.) CONSOLATION IN THE GOSPEL.\\nThat we might have a strong consolation, who have fled\\nfor refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us which hope\\nwe have as an anchor to the soul both sure and steadfast.\\nHeb. vi. 18, 19.]\\nHow beautiful, as fades the gloom of night,\\nHow beautiful the early sunbeams fall\\nIn long and leveled lines of light, o er all\\nThe wide expanse of plain, and vale, and height,\\nAnd clothe them with a young and purple bloom\\nSo, when my heart environed is with sorrow,\\nAnd from the earth no ray of hope can borrow,\\nThe Gospel s glory dissipates its gloom.\\nThat Gospel plants a sun within my breast,\\nWhich hath the power to change dark shades to day\\nUnchanged, unfailing, it transmits its ray,\\nAnd e en in sorrow makes my bosom blest.\\nThe vales throw off their shades, the mists take wing.\\nThe flowers unfold their leaves, the birds start up and sing.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0219.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "208 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXI.) THE POOR OF THIS WORLD RICH IN CHRIST.\\nAnd he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, Blessed\\nbe ye poor for yours is the kingdom of God. Luke vi. 20.]\\nIn yon dark forest dwells an aged man,\\nWhose hoary beard descending sweeps his breast\\nHis numerous days are dwindled to a span,\\nHe waits for his dismissal and his rest.\\nHe hath no worldly wealth, no worldly fame,\\nBut inward wealth and joys of soul are his\\nFor he doth love the Saviour s blessed name.\\nAnd prayer and praising constitute his bliss.\\nIn every evening star a God he sees,\\nIn the wild mountain wind a God he hears,\\nAnd bending to the earth his aged knees.\\nHe pours his prayer into Jehovah s ears.\\nHis soul ascending above earthly things.\\nFinds audience high in heaven, the glorious King of kings.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0220.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 209\\n(XXII.) STREN TH FROM THE CROSS.\\nBut God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our\\nLord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I\\nunto the world. Gal. vi. 14.]\\nOh, who shall sing the joyful song at last?\\nOh, who shall raise in heaven the conqueror s strain,\\nO er foes subdued, and inward vices slain,\\nAnd seasons of temptation safely passed\\nT is he, who counts all other things but dross.\\nWhen put into the scale with God s dear Son\\nWho willingly the Christian race doth run.\\nAnd fights, and toils, and conquers, in the cross.\\nThe cross imparts perennial peace within\\nThe cross resists and scatters outward foes\\nT is by the cross the saints their victories win,\\nAnd rise to glory, as their Saviour rose.\\nThen heed not earthly shame nor earthly loss.\\nBut count it all for good, if thou may st bear the cross.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0221.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "210\\nSCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXIII.) VANITY OF LIFE.\\nAs for man, his days are as grass as a flower of the field, so\\nhe flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone and\\nthe place thereof shall know it no more. Fs. ciii. 15, 16.]\\nAnd they are gone, the friends that once I knew\\nI look in vain to find them low and still\\nThey coldly lie, shut out from human view,\\nAnd from the joys which erst their breasts could fill.\\nNo more for them the rosy morn shall gleam,\\nNor wild-bird charm their ear at day s sweet close\\nNo more shall friendship soothe life s fevered dream,\\nAnd love s sweet voice allure them to repose.\\nBut, oh, t is vain to murmur or bewail.\\nDwells ought on earth, that long on earth shall be\\nThe columns of the world itself shall fail,\\nIts gorgeousness shall fade, its pomp shall flee.\\nT is a small thing to die, if we shall rise\\nIn renovated bliss, unchanging in the skies.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0222.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 211\\n(XXIV.) THE RULER OF THE NATIONS.\\nThe nations shall rush like the rushing of many waters but\\nGod shall rebuke them, and they shall flee far off, and shall be\\nchased as the chaff of the mountains before the wind, and like a\\nrolling thing before the whirlwind. Is. xvii. 13.]\\nThere is a God, whose searching eye doth look\\nInto the hearts of private men and kings\\nWho turns the nations, as the running brook,\\nAnd mighty empires to subjection brings.\\nIf nations to his will and ways are given.\\nHe binds them fast to his eternal throne.\\nBut scatters, as the chaff by winds is driven,\\nSuch as (orget his laws, and such alone.\\nSee Rome, with flags unfurled and eagles spread\\nT was virtue made her powerful at first\\nWhen virtue failed, and honor bowed its head,\\nAn angry God did smite her to the dust.\\nSheer from her seat of pride and empire hurled,\\nAnd made her thence the scorn and hissing of the world.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0223.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "212 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXV.) THE PLACE OF REFUGE*\\nA man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and\\ncovert from the tempest. Is. xxxii. 2.]\\nThe clouds are gathering in the distant sky\\nI hear the fiercely muttering thunders roll\\nTerrors invade my breast my trembling soul\\nLooks forth around, but sees no refuge nigh.\\nAh, whither shall I flee What friendly hand\\nShall guide me to some safe, select retreat,\\nWhere, while the dark, perpetual tempests beat,\\nUnscathed, uninjured, T may safely stand\\nHe comes He comes I see the platted crown\\nI see the bleeding feet, the wounded side.\\nNow let the bellowing storm rush fiercely down,\\nThy smile shall comfort me, Thine arms shall hide.\\nWith Thee, Thou dear Redeemer, are no fears\\nThou scatterest all my doubts, and wipest all my tears.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0224.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 213\\n(XXVI.) GOD WORSHIPPED IN HIS WORKS.\\nThe heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament\\nsh oweth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and\\nnight unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor\\nlanguage, where their voice is not heard. Ps. xix. 1, 2, 3.]\\nMen use a different speech in different climes,\\nBut Nature hath one voice and only one.\\nHer wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun,\\nHer woods and waters, in all lands and times,\\nIn one deep song proclaim the wondrous story.\\nThey tell it to each other in the sky,\\nUpon the winds they send it sounding high,\\nJehovah s wisdom, goodness, power, and glory.\\nI hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree,\\nTen thousand voices in one voice united\\nOn every side the song encircles me,\\nThe whole round world reveres and is delighted.\\nAh why, when heaven and earth lift up their voice,\\nAh why should man alone nor worship nor rejoice\\n18", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0225.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "214 SCRIPTURE SONNETS^\\n(XXVII.) THE HIDDEN LIFE.\\nSet your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.\\nFor ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.\\nCol. iii. 2, 3.]\\nMy life is folded in the life of Jesus,\\nNo longer mine, but purchased by that tide.\\nThat crimson tide, which shed on Calvary, frees us\\nFrom those dark stains that in our hearts abide.\\nMy life is hid with Christ, and I am His.\\nWhate er his will, that am I bound to do;\\nIf He doth call me to far lands and seas,\\nI hear his summons, and his steps pursue.\\nWhere er He goes, I cannot stay behind\\nIn what He does, my hand shall have employ\\nWhene er He suffers, sorrow fills my mind\\nWhen He rejoices, I partake the joy.\\nHe bought me by his blood, and I am his\\nI have no other will, no other grief nor bliss.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0226.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 215\\n(XXVIII.) HELP IN THE WILDERNESS.\\nWho is this that cosneth up from the %^Hlderness, leaning upon\\nher beloved Cant. viii. 5.]\\nAlas We travel in the desert now,\\nObscure our way, perplexed the paths we tread\\nWith thorns and briars the vales are overspread,\\nThe mountains fright us with their angry brow.\\nBut who is this that hears us in distress,\\nAnd when we fear we ne er shall travel through,\\nDoth sudden burst upon our raptured view,\\nAnd goes before us in the wilderness\\nThe Saviour comes We lean upon his arm,\\nAnd resting there, find strength amid our woe;\\nThe tempests cease, that filled us with alarm,\\nAnd o er the burning plains the fountains flow.\\nNo more the storms assail, the thunders roll,\\nBut angels songs are heard, and pleasures fill the soul.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0227.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "216 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXIX.) TRUST IN THE SAVIOUR.\\nIt is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in\\nman. It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in\\nprinces. Ps. cxviii. 8, 9\\nIn man, estranged and weak, put not thy trust,\\nWho, like the flower of grass, doth pass away.\\nHis friendships, like himself, shall soon decay,\\nHis powers, his gifts, his promises are dust.\\nBut there is one in whom thou canst repose\\nUnshaken confidence, who will impart\\nSecurity to every broken heart,\\nAnd give thee victory over all thy foes.\\nThe love of Jesus Christ will never fail.\\nThe love of thy Redeemer ne er grow cold.\\nWhen friends are faint, and enemies wax bold,\\nThou shalt arise, and in his strength prevail.\\nGird on thine armor strive in Jesus name\\nIn that and that alone thou lt ne er be put to shame.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0228.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 217\\n(XXX.) SUPPORT IN AFFLICTION.\\nGod is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.\\nTherefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and\\nthough the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea. Ps.\\nxlvi. 1, 2.]\\nWhen, Father, thou dost send the chastening rod,\\nOh, what am I, that I should dare reply,\\nThy love arraign, thy righteousness deny,\\nAnd set the creature in array with God\\nFar be it from my soul to question Thee,\\nFor I am nought. Be this my only prayer,\\nThat I may have due strength the rod to bear.\\nAnd bless the hand that doth environ me.\\nSo that, what time the outward man doth perish,\\nSmitten with many stripes, inflicted deep,\\nThe inward man renewed hopes may cherish.\\nAnd high above the storms in glory sweep.\\nWe sink in the deep waters but thy hand\\nShall hold us in the waves, and bring us safe to land.\\n18*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0229.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "218 SCRIPTURE SONNETS,\\n(XXXI.) CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE.\\nWhich now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbor unto\\nhim that fell among the thieves And he said, He tliat showed\\nmercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou like-\\nwise. Luke X. 36, 37.]\\nWho is my brother T is not merely he,\\nWho hung upon the same loved mother s breast;\\nBut every one, whoever he may be,\\nOn whom the image of a man s imprest.\\nTrue Christian sympathy was ne er designed\\nTo be shut up within a narrow bound\\nBut sweeps abroad, and in its search to find\\nObjects of mercy, goes the whole world round.\\nT is like the sun, rejoicing east and west,\\nOr beautiful rainbow, bright from south to north\\nIt has an angel s pinion, mounting forth\\nO er rocks, and hills, and seas, to make men blest.\\nNo matter what their color, name, or place,\\nIt blesses all alike, the universal race.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0230.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 219\\n(XXXII.) THE BOOK OF JUDGMENT.\\nAnd I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God and\\nthe books were opened and another book was opened, which is the\\nbook of life and the dead, were judged out of those things which\\nwere written in the books, according to their works. Rev. xx.\\n12.]\\nWhere is the Judgment Book, which God doth keep\\nWhere is the record he hath made of sin\\nSo that at last it shall awake from sleep,\\nAnd legibly appear? It is within.\\nThe Judgment Book is every man s own breast.\\nThis is the tablet God hath graved upon\\nMore lasting is the stamp that s there impressed.\\nThan if it were inscribed on wood or stone.\\nThe wood may change to dust, the stone may break,\\nAnd what is written there at last decay\\nBut the inscription, which the soul doth take.\\nWill never, through all ages, waste away.\\nMen may, on earth, turn from this book their sight,\\nBut not, when made to gleam in the great Judgment light.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0231.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "220 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXXIII.) THE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS IN THE SOUL.\\nKeep thy Iieart with all diligence for out of it are the issues\\nof life. Prov. iv. 23.]\\nThe soul hath power, through God s mysterious plan,\\nTo mould anew and to assimilate\\nThe outward incidents that wait on man.\\nAnd make them like his hidden, inward state.\\nIf there s a storm within, then all things round\\nThe inward storm to clouds and darkness changes;\\nBut inward light makes outward light abound,\\nAnd o er external things in beauty ranges.\\nIf but the soul be right, submissive, pure,\\nIt stamps whate er takes place with peace and bliss;\\nIf fierce, revengeful, and unjust, t is sure\\nFrom outward things to draw unhappiness.\\nThen watch, and chiefly watch, the inward part,\\nFor all is right and well, if there s a holy heart.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0232.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 221\\n(XXXIV.) DEATH OF A YOUNG CHRISTIAN.\\nAnd God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes and there\\nshall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall\\nthere be any more pain for the former things are passed away.\\nRev. xxi. 4.]\\nLike the fair flower, that s cropped in early spring,\\nHushed is thy heart, and dimmed thy beauty s bloom\\nBut memory still around thy dust shall cling,\\nAffection haunt thee e en beyond the tomb.\\nThough clothed in light, and risen to joys divine,\\nLost to the world and all its empty charms,\\nOnce more our tears would freely flow with thine,\\nOnce more w^e d clasp thee fondly to our arms.\\nBut, oh, forbear, the cherished thought forego,\\nAnd hush to peace the heart s tumultuous strife,\\nSince at her feet the sacred waters flow.\\nAnd waving o er her blooms the tree of life.\\nIf this sad parting fills our hearts with pain,\\nTo her t is peace, and triumph, and immortal gain.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0233.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "222 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXXV.) LIVING NEAR TO CHRIST.\\nFor our conversation is in heaven 5 from whence also we look\\nfor the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ. Philip, iii. 20.]\\nWhen the bright sun is nearest to the earth,\\nTn vernal months and days of summer bloom,\\nThe buds and flowers and bending fruits have birth,\\nInstinct with life and beauty and perfume.\\nAnd so the man, who near the Saviour lives.\\nFinds his heart kindling neath that radiant face\\nThe cheering light and heat the Saviour gives.\\nAnd renovates and blesses with his grace.\\nBut if the Christian keeps himself away,\\nAnd follows Christ, as Peter did, far off,*\\nBut seldom meditates, nor loves to pray.\\nOr meets, on doubtful ground, with those who scoff,\\nHis heart grows cold, no genial ray shall bless,\\nT will be Siberian waste, mere ice and barrenness.\\nAt tlie time of his denying the Saviour. See Matt. xxvi. 58.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0234.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 223\\n(XXXVI.) MEDITATING ON CHRIST.\\nMy heart was hot within me while I was musing, the fire\\nburned then spake I with my tongue. Ps. xxxix. 3.]\\nThy heart is sad and deeply thou complainest\\nThat dull and wandering thy affections prove,\\nThat lingering far, so often thou remainest\\nApart from Him, who claims thy highest love.\\nOh, meditate Him more, and the world less,\\nAt morn and pensive eve give Him thy thought,\\nRecall, how He hath saved thee, and doth bless\\nWith that redemption, which his life-blood bought.\\nYes Deeply think, till thou hast deeply felt\\nWhen thought is busy, love is busy too\\nOh, think, until thy stony heart doth melt,\\nOf all thy Saviour did, and yet will do\\nHow he hath condescended, suffered, died,\\nind even now doth clasp thee to his bleeding side.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0235.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "224 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXXVII.) THE GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN.\\nBut now they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly;\\nwherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God for he hath\\nprepared for them a city. Heb. xi. 16.]\\nWhen on some voyage of trade in distant seas,\\nThe gallant ship has ploughed for many yearSj\\nAt last, with sails rejoicing in the breeze,\\nHer own, her lovely native coast she nears\\nThe hardy sailors look from deck and mast.\\nTheir fathers hills and hamlets to descry\\nAs one by one they point them out, full fast\\nUnwonted tears of gladness fill the eye\\nThey shout with joy t is their own native land\\nWhere brothers, sisters, fathers, grandsires dwell.\\nSo, when the Christian on life s bounds doth staiid,\\nOn heaven s bright hills his eyes with fervor dwell,\\nHis blessed Father s home is in his sight.\\nHe shouts aloud with joy, unspeakable delight.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0236.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 225\\n(XXXVIII.) THE LAST TRUMP.\\nla a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump\\nfor the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised.\\n1 Cor. XV. 52.]\\nWhen the last trump shall sound, all earth shall hear,\\nThe sea s wide tumbling waves be fixed with dread.\\nThe startled mountains turn their iron ear,\\nThe hills shall flee away, and hide their head.\\nLeviathan shall plunge into his cave,\\nHis deepest cave the lion to his den\\nIn the black clouds the birds their wings shall wave.\\nAnd screaming loud, respond the cries of men;\\nAnd men, poured forth from cot and splendid hall,\\nShall mingle with the cattle in the fields.\\nWhile, tost and breaking at the trumpet s call.\\nThe rending ground beneath their footstep yields.\\nWhen all is changing, all in horror mixed.\\nThe Christian s soul remains believing, calm, and fixed.\\n19", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0237.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "226 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XXXIX.) THE RESURRECTIO^f.\\nIt is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption it is\\nsown in dishonor, it is raised in glory it is sown in weakness, it\\nis raised in power. 1 Cor. xv. 42, 43.]\\nSometimes my heart, too prone to doubt, will say^\\nHow can the cold and sleeping dead revive?\\nImpossible, that mouldering dust and clay\\nShould ever with an angel s beauty live\\nBut look thou forth o er all the fragrant earth,\\nWith leaf and bud, with fruit and flowret strown\\nIt is but yesterday they all had birth,\\nFrom dust produced, from foul corruption grown.\\nAnd cannot God, who bids the grass to rise,\\nWho gives the leaf its shape, the flower its hue,\\nMan s fallen clay to quickened life surprise,\\nAnd give to that its share of beauty too\\nOh, then, thy fears dispel, thy doubts repress,\\nNor think it hard for God to raise, adorn, and bless.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0238.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 227\\n(XL.) THE TRUE GROUND OF JOY.\\nNotwithstanding, in this rejoice not, that the spirits are sub-\\nject unto you but rather rejoice, because your names are written\\nin heaven. Luke x. 20.]\\nRejoice not in thy wealth of house and fields,\\nNor build your hopes and bliss on earthly fame\\nEarth but a momentary glory yields,\\nIts brightest joys are as an empty name.\\nOh, fix no fondness there t will prove a thorn\\nMany, that deeply loved, have deeply rued\\nAttachments so unworthy and they warn\\nOthers from treading where their feet have stood.\\nThe Saviour teaches a far wiser course.\\nTo deem it glory, not that we possess\\nMere wealth or power, or learning s proud resource,\\nWhich mock us with the show of happiness\\nBut that we have, in that dread Book on high,\\nOur names inscribed of God, in words that never die.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0239.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "228 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XLI.) THE PRIDE OF MAN CONFOUNDED.\\nAnd he saith unto him, Friend, how earnest thou in hither,\\nnot having a wedding garment And he was speechless. Matt,\\nxxii. 12.]\\nMen reason oft in speech magnificent\\nOf freedom, fate, fore-knowledge, rectitude\\nPuffed up with pride, their rebel breath is spent\\nIn proving God unjust, their own ways good.\\nWith microscopic eye His works they scan,\\nAnd countless ills detect which thcj/ could mend\\n(As if mere dust could frame a better plan,)\\nAnd thus in Atheist madness live and end.\\nBut in the last great day, when Christ shall come,\\nGirt round with angel bands and sainted men,\\nAnd reckon up of words and deeds the sum,\\nOf evil deeds, and thoughts, and speech, where then\\nWill be their haughty look, their captious word\\nO erwhelmed and dumb they stand and nought but grief\\nis heard.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0240.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 229\\n(XLII.) THE PHYSICIAN OF THE MIND.\\nAnd Jesus answering, said unto them, They that are whole\\nneed not a physician but they that are sick. I came not to call\\nthe righteous, but sinners to repentance. Luke v. 31.]\\nHe makes the deaf to hear, the blind to see,\\nRestores the faint, and doth the bleeding bind,\\nBut shows himself more strong in charity,\\nIn healing the diseases of the mind.\\nThou sick and bowed of soul, to Jesus go!\\nTell him how weak and how diseased the heart,\\nAnd learn how he compassionates your woe,\\nAnd plucks the spirit s, as the body s smart.\\nHe quells the fears that throng thee and annoy.\\nWith brighter views the intellect doth fill,\\nGives strength to hope, and permanence to joy,\\nAnd aids with power divine the doubting will.\\nOthers may heal the body Christ makes whole,\\n(And only He hath power,) the crushed and fallen soul.\\n19*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0241.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "230 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XLIII.) SORROW FOR SIN.\\nI will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him,\\nFather, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no\\nmore worthy to be called thy son. Luke xv. 18, 19.]\\nIn dust and ashes let me humbled lie,\\nFor I have sinned against my God and friend\\nNor ever upward lift my troubled eye,\\nBut only tears let fall and groanings send.\\nAnd wilt Thou hear, who, merciful as just.\\nDost pity on the bleeding bosom take?\\nYes, Thou wilt mark the suppliant in the dust.\\nThe bowed and bruised reed Thou wilt not breakj\\nHere is my hope, and it is only here\\nFor I have sinned how much God only knows\\nThy law have broken, put away thy fear.\\nAnd caused the sneer and scoffings of thy foes.\\nLow in the dust my worthless head I lay.\\nTill God shall hear my prayer, and take my guilt away.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0242.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 231\\n(xLiv.) Christ s yoke easy.\\nCome unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I\\nwill give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me\\nfor I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find rest unto\\nyour souls. Matt. xi. 28, 29.]\\nWhere love is strong, t is easy to obey\\nT is thus the grateful and devoted child,\\nWho tends his aged parents night and day,\\nFinds all his labors by his heart beguiled.\\nThe light of love can make deep darkness bright,\\nAnd change a bed of thorns to beds of roses\\nT is love, celestial love, that makes so light\\nThe yoke, which Jesus on his friends imposes.\\nPrompted by this, with ready will and hand.\\nThey follow in the path, which He hath trod\\nRevere alike his life and his command,\\nAnd bow with gratitude beneath his rod.\\nNothing is grievous which he bids to do\\nWhere love inspires the heart, life, hope, and strength are\\nnew.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0243.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "232 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XLV.) LOVE OF THE WORLD.\\nFor what is a man piofited, if he shall gain the whole world and\\nlose his own soul or what shall a man give in exchange for his\\nsoul? Matt. xvi. 26.]\\nWhy should we love the world Why thus bestow\\nAffections on its perishable toys,\\nAnd while we seek for pleasures mean and low,\\nDeprive our souls of high and holy joys 1\\nIs not God jealous Will he let us cling\\nSo fondly to the things below the skies.\\nAnd nought but cold and heartless offerings bring\\nTo the All-good, All-perfect, and All-wise\\nOh, break the tie, that doth so closely bind\\nThe groveling thought and vain desires to earth;\\nAnd let the rapt, emancipated mind\\nSoar to the better region of its birth,\\nAnd feed on angel s food. Let God supply,\\nAnd his divine perfections, joys that never die.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0244.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 233\\n(XLVI.) I SHALL YET PRAISE HIM.\\nWhy art thou cast down, Oh my soul And why art thou\\ndisquieted within me Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise\\nhim, who is the health of my countenance, and my God. Ps. xlii.\\n11.]\\nAt that dim hour, when ploughmen first arise,\\nRoused from their homely couch and deep repose,\\nWhen stars still linger in the changing skies,\\nAnd in the East the dawning feebly glows,\\nT is doubtful long, which of the two bears sway,\\nThe nascent day or unextinguished night.\\nTill ruddy morn, at length, with bright array,\\nProclaims the triumph of victorious Light.\\nSo when there breaks upou the heart s domain\\nThe Light Divine, which mars the shades within,\\nOh, who can tell which of the two shall reign.\\nThe recent purity or ancient sin?\\nAnd yet the inward Light, like outward day,\\nShall shine, revealed at last, with a triumphant ray.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0245.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "334 SCRIPTURE SONNETS,\\n(XLVII.) A DIVIDED MIND.\\nFor where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. The\\nlight of the body is the eye if therefore thine eye be single, thy\\nwhole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy\\nwhole body shall be full of darkness. Mat. vi. 21, 22, 23.]\\nOh, that I had not this divided heart,\\nA mind, self-sundered, and at war within;\\nWhich gives, or seems to give, to heaven a part,\\nBut gives, alas, a greater part to sin.\\nSometimes I think the victory to gain,\\nAnd plant my standard on the heavenly height;\\nBut suddenly imperious passions reign,\\nAnd put my faithfulness and hopes to flight.\\nMy conscience prompts me to the better way,\\nThe Holy Spirit makes it still more clear,\\nBut foul temptation leads my steps astray,\\nAnd Heaven is lost, because the World is dear.\\nT is He in triumph and in peace shall run,\\nThe Christian s trying race, whose heart, whose soul, is one.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0246.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 235\\n(xlViii.) submission in sickness.\\nIt is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the\\nsalvation of the Lord. Lam. iii. 26. Behold, we count them\\nhappy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and\\nhave seen the end of the Lord, that the Lord is very pitiful and of\\ntender mercy. James v. IL]\\nGod gives to each his task but what is mine?\\nWhat work doth he require of one like me\\nWho, grieving, on the couch of sickness pine,\\nAnd know no hours but those of misery.\\nBy others I am tended. Would I go\\nTo feed the poor, or unto heathen lands,\\nHere am I fastened on this bed of woe.\\nWith fee. that walk not, and with moveless hands,\\nT was thus I cherished wicked discontent,\\nAnd inly blamed Jehovah s righteous ways,\\nWhen suddenly a voice, in mercy sent,\\nReproves my striving heart, and gently says\\nIf thou indeed for nothing else art fit,\\nThis work at least is thine, in patience to submit.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0247.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "236 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(XLIX.) LIGHT IN GOSHEN.\\nAnd Moses stretched forth his hand towards heaven and\\nthere was a thick darkness in all the land of Egypt, three days.\\nThey saw not one another, neither rose any from his place for three\\ndays 5 but all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.\\nExodus. X. 22, 23.]\\nIn ancient times, when God in anger came,\\nAnd troubled Egypt with his mighty hand.\\nThe rayless sun withdrew his midday flame.\\nAnd clouds and darkness filled the sightless land.\\nBut there was light in Goshen. On it lay,\\nOn pleasant hill and vale, and flower and tree,\\nThe moon s resplendent beam, the sunlight s ray.\\nThe free stars, singing in their liberty.\\nThus is it now. God s people walk in light.\\nWith changeless day to cheer them and to guide\\nBut o er the godless throng reigns Egypt s night.\\nThe sun and moon and stars their radiance hide.\\nT is God, whose glorious light is never dim,\\nIlluminates the host, that faithful follow him.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0248.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 237\\n(l.) the voyage.\\nWhen thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee\\nand through the rivers they shall not overflow thee. Isa. xliii. 2.]\\nFair stream, embosomed in yon pleasant vale,\\nThat in thy quiet beauty sweep st along\\nHow oft I skimmed thee with my slender sail,\\nHow oft I poured upon thy banks my song\\nT was then I marked the autumn s blushing leaves\\nSink, wafted slowly in the quiet air\\nThy silver wave the roseate gift receives,\\nAnd hastes its treasure to the deep to bear.\\nSo man shall pass, borne on the stream of time,\\nA moment seen, and seen, alas, no more.\\nDark is the wave and distant is the clime\\nBut lift, in strength divine^ the struggling oar\\nAnd then, thou wanderer of life s troubled sea,\\nNor angry storm, nor rocks, nor wave, shall injure Thee.\\n20", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0249.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "238 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(li.) the grave op the beautiful.\\nSo also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corrup-\\ntion it is raised in incorrupt! on it is sown in dishonor it is\\nraised in glory it is sown in weakness it is raised in power.\\n1 Cor. XV. 42, 43.]\\nWhere, near yon river s brink, the willows wave,\\nAnd summer s flowers to golden life have sprung\\nIs dimly seen the village maiden s grave,\\nForever gone, the beautiful and young.\\nThe boatman turns to that sad spot his eye.\\nWhen o er the wave his lingering sail is spread,\\nAnd see, when sunset gilds the pictured sky,\\nHer sister maids draw near with silent tread.\\nAlas, how oft the gems of earth grow pale,\\nAnd stars, that blessed us, dim their rising ray\\nBut not in vain their beauty do they veil,\\nAnd see their earthly glory pass away.\\nFor beauty here, they snatch immortal bloom,\\nAnd light, eternal light, doth blossom on the tomb*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0250.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 239\\n(lii.) the christian pilgrim.\\nThese all died in faith, not having received the promiseSj but\\nhaving seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and em-\\nbraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims\\non the earth. Heb. xi. 13.]\\nFarewell, my native country Thy bright star,\\nThy sky, green woods, clear waters, no more greet\\nMine eye delighted. But with pilgrim feet,\\nIn waste and horrid lands, I wander far.\\nI wander far, unknown, but not dismayed\\nI leave my native country but my soul,\\nUnmoved, unshaken, in its purpose whole,\\nOn higher power, than aught of earth, is stayed.\\nMy God shall he my country I will call.\\nAnd he will hear me in the desert place.\\nWhen troubles come, before his feet I fall.\\nAnd then he sheds the sunshine of his grace.\\nOn Afric s arid sands, on Asia s plain,\\nOn Greenland s ice-bound coast, no prayer to Him is vain.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0251.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "340 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(liii.) despise not the beginnings.\\nThe kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard-seed\\nwhich a man took and sowed in his field j which indeed is the\\nleast of all seeds but when it is grown, it is the greatest among\\nherbs, and becometh a tree. Matt. xiii. 31, 32.]\\nSee, how beyond the hills, the morning bright\\nDoth write its coming with a single ray\\nBut gleam is joined to gleam, and light to light,\\nTill feeblest dawn expands to perfect day.\\nDespise not the beginnings. When the heart\\nReceives, however small, the primal beam,\\nWhich God doth to the new-born soul impart,\\nRevere and cherish its incipient gleam.\\nThough the first ray from Heaven s eternal throne,\\nThe frail young shoot from Glory s morning star,\\nYet fostered well, it dwelleth not alone.\\nBut grows in its own light, and shineth far,\\nAnd bindeth ray with ray, till what was one,\\nCompacted of itself, expands a new-born sun.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0252.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 241\\n(liv.) uncertainty of earthly objects.\\nAs for man, his days are as grass as a flower of the field\\nso he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone\\nand the place thereof shall know it no more. Ps. ciii. la, 16.]\\nAs fall the trees upon the mountain s side,\\nAs shoot the stars upon a cloudless night,\\nSo pass the hopes, that foster human pride,\\nWith meteor glance, with dim disastrous flight.\\nHow frail the fairest shoots of earthly love\\nThe death of fathers, children, brothers, friends.\\nWhile it afflicts, doth oft and deeply prove\\nThe vanity of earthly joys and ends.\\nWe lean upon a prop, that hath no strength\\nWe rest upon an arm, that hath no power\\nWe trust it long and fondly but at length,\\nIt falls and blasts us in the evil hour.\\nBut time, nor tide, nor earth, nor hell, can harm\\nHim that doth firmly rest on God s eternal arm.\\n30*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0253.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "242 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lv.) god no respecter op persons.\\nMy brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the\\nLord of Glory, with respect of persons. Hearken, my beloved\\nbrethren. Hath not God chosen the poor of this world, rich in\\nfaith, and heirs of the kingdom, which he hath promised to them\\nthat love him? James ii. 1, 5.]\\nBehold yon poor old man, that plods along,\\nSadly and slowly in the crowded street.\\nHow beggarly Of those whom he doth meet,\\nScarce one doth note him in that countless throng.\\nThe very winds make sport of him, and rend\\nHis tattered garments rude. Yet do not deem.\\nThat he is all so lost, as he doth seem.\\nThough all desert him else, he hath one friend.\\nThere is a God, who hath an equal eye.\\nWho marks the high, nor spurns the lowly one\\nThe wretched, whom the world pass scornfully.\\nMay be the blood-bought purchase of his Son.\\nHe deeper looks than the outside of things\\nThe beggar s soul to Him is as the soul of kings.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0254.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 243\\n(lvI.) the fountain of JERUSALEM.\\nIn that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of\\nDavid and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for unclean-\\nness. Zech. xiii. 1. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity,\\nand cleanse me from my sin. Ps. li. 2.]\\nPure are thy waves, Abana, as they rove\\nThrough Syria s blooming plains and Parphar too\\nReflects from his bright breast the vernal hue\\nOf citron bud, and pendent orange grove.\\nAnd Jordan s stream, less bright, had yet the power\\nTo wash away the leprosy s foul stain.\\nBut ichen the soul is sick, to cleanse agam,\\nAnd make it pure, as in its primal hour,\\nWhat earthly wave hath virtue? What bright stream\\nCan wash it from its blackness, and the tint,\\nLong-lost, of angel purity imprint,\\nTo light and life and happiness redeem\\nOne fount alone can do it. There s salvation\\nIn Jesus blood alone, for man, and tribe, and nation.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0255.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "244 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lvii.) parental bereavement.\\nHumble yourselveSj therefore, under the mighty hand of God,\\nthat He may exalt you in due time casting all your care upon\\nHim, for He careth for you. 1 Peter, v. 6, 7.]\\nI vE lost my loved, my cherished little one,\\nWho smiling, prattling, clasped her Father s knee.\\nAlas Her transient hour of life is run,\\nAnd her sweet tone and smile are nought to me.\\nThe grave hath claimed her. Oft I seem to hear\\nHer blessed voice charming the vacant air.\\nI listen but my own fond fancy s ear\\nFrames the sweet sound. My loved one is not there.\\nOnward, to where yon green tree waves its shade,\\nI look, when summer s sultry sun is high;\\nThere, in her days of life and health, she played\\nIn vain I thither turn my weeping eye.\\nGod in his mercy took her and t is mine\\nTo feel his ways are right, nor let my heart repine.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0256.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 245\\n(lVIII.) I WOULD NOT ALWAYS LIVE.\\nSo that my soul chooseth strangling and death rather than\\nmy life, I loalh it I would not live always let me alone for\\nmy days are vanity. What is man, that thou shouldest magnify\\nhim, and that thou shouldest set thy heart upon him? Job\\nvii. 15; 17.]\\nI WOULD NOT ALWAYS LIVE. There s something here,\\nIn this lone world of sorrow and of sin\\nTo which the purer heart, to virtue dear,\\nFinds no response, no sympathy within.\\nAs when the rising sun dispels the cloud.\\nAnd spreads its glory o er the dazzled sky,\\nSo shall the mind cast off its moral shroud.\\nAnd bask in brightness, when it mounts on high.\\nThat is its home its high congenial place\\nTis there, that, fitted with unearthly wings.\\nThe spirit, running its eternal race.\\nAnd mounting ever up, triumphant sings.\\nI would not always live. Hail glorious day.\\nWhich gives us heavenly life, and takes our house of clay.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0257.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "^6 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lix.) mystery of the new birth.\\nMarvel not, that I said unto thee, ye must be born again. The\\nwind bloweth, where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof,\\nbut canst not tell, whence it cometh and whither it goeth. So is\\nevery one, that is born of the Spirit. John iii. 7, 8.]\\nI hear the mountain wind, but see it not\\nIts mournful sigh startles my mind s repose\\nI listen but it passes quick as thought\\nI know not whence it comes, nor where it goes.\\nT is thus with those, who of the Spirit are born,\\nA change comes o er them Jiow they cannot say.\\nThey wake, as from the darkness wakes the morn,\\nAnd mental night is changed to mental day.\\nT is God s mysterious work. T is He can find,\\nDeep searching, and t is He can touch\\nThe deep and hidden spring that rules the mind,\\nAnd change its tendencies, and make it such.\\nRedeemed, restored, as it was not before.\\nWe know that t is God s work but we can know no more.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0258.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 247\\n(lx.) light.\\nLight is so\\\\m for the rigliteous, and gladness for the upright\\nin heart. Ps. xcvii. 2. That ye should show forth the praises\\nof Him, who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous\\nlight. IPeterii. 9.]\\nThe sower sows his seed for the upright.\\nIn good and consecrated soil t is laid\\nHe plants the sunbeam, sows celestial light,\\nThat, rising, scatters far all gloom, all shade.\\nSee, how it comes over the distant mountains.\\nGilding the East, rejoicing in the West\\nNot separate streams, but gushing forth in fountains,\\nShedding its rays around the ransomed breast.\\nLift up thine eye the sons of God behold\\nNo clouds are near them but on every side\\nFlow rivers, as it were, instinct with gold.\\nMingling and crossing in one endless tide.\\nVisions of glory fill their raptured sight\\nTheir element, their home, is light, celestial light.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0259.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "248 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxi.) constancy.\\nStand, therefore, with your loins girt about with truth, and\\nhaving on the breast-plate of righteousness. Ephes. vi. 14.]\\nBought by Christ s blood, and to the purchase true,\\nThe Christian runs with cheerfulness the race,\\nWhich God in wisdom hath seen fit to trace,\\nNor turns some other object to pursue.\\nNor slacks his steadfast course. Sometimes he sees\\nFires in his path, or hears the serpent s breath,\\nOr raging men with implements of death,\\nBut still goes on nor like the coward flees.\\nThe road is strait and narrow if he turns.\\nRuin awaits him if he onward goes,\\nWith face erect and heart with love that burns,\\nHowever great the obstacles, he knows,\\nThat God, who hath all power, all things can do,\\nWill guard him in his straits, and bear him glorious through.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0260.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 249\\n(lxii.) power of faith.\\nWho through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness,\\nobtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the vio-\\nlence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were\\nmade strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of\\nthe aliens. Heb. xi. 33, 34.]\\nI SAT me down in earth s benighted vale,\\nAnd had no courage and no strength to rise\\nSad to the passing breeze I told my tale,\\nAnd bowed my head, and drained my weeping eyes.\\nBut Faith came by, and took me by the hand\\nAnd now the vallies rise, the mountains falL\\nWelcome the stormy sea, the dangerous land\\nWith Faith to aid me, I can conquer all.\\nFaith lays her hand upon the lion s mane\\nFaith fearless walks within the serpent s den\\nFaith smiles amid her children round her slain\\nWhen worlds are burning, cries unmoved, Amen.\\nYes, I am up, far upward on the wing\\nThe withered arm is strong, the broken heart doth sing.\\n21", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0261.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "250 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxiii.) the wreck.\\nAnd these shall go away into everlasting punishment but\\nthe righteous into life eternal. Matt. xxv. 46.]\\nI SAW a wreck upon the ocean flood.\\nHow sad and desolate No man was there\\nNo living thing was on it. There it stood\\nIts sails all gone 5 its masts were standing bare\\nTossed in the wide, the boundless, howling sea.\\nThe very sea-birds screamed, and passed it by.\\nAnd as I looked, the ocean seemed to be\\nA sign and figure of Eternity.\\nThe wreck an emblem seemed of those, that sail\\nWithout the pilot Jesus, on its tide.\\nThus thought I, when the final storms prevail,\\nShall rope, and sail, and mast be scattered wide\\nAnd they, with helm and anchor lost, be driven,\\nIn endless exile sad, far from the port of Heaven.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0262.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 251\\n(lxiv.) religious recollections.\\nI will meditate in thy precepts, and have respect unto thy\\n-ways, I will delight myself in thy statutes. I will not forget thy\\nword. Ps. cxix. 15, 16.]\\nI HAD sweet thoughts of Christ beneath yon tree\\nBeside that chrystal brook I talked with God\\nAs o er yon mountain s craggy height I trod,\\nThe echoes from the valley seemed to be,\\nAnd the delighted songs of the sweet birds.\\nAll blessing their Creator. Winds and waterfall\\nSpoke forth their eloquent praise, as well as all\\nThe companies of lambs and lowing herds.\\nSweet is the memory of those blessed days\\nOh, that my life with such were sprinkled o er\\nAnd thus their recollection should restore.\\nIn my own bosom, love, and hope, and praise.\\nHappy the soul, that from the past can borrow\\nA foretaste of the land, the land that knows no sorrow.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0263.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "252 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxv.) depravity of the heart.\\nAnd God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the\\nearth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was\\nonly evil continually. Gen. vi. 5. The heart is deceitful above\\nall things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it? Jer.\\nxvii, 9.]\\nHold to thy heart the mirror of God s law,\\nAnd with its aid examine what s within.\\nLook deeply down, yet deeper and with awe\\nAnd terror thou shalt see the depths of sin.\\nYes, t is a great, unfathomable deep,\\nAn ocean without soundings, without shore.\\nWhen the dark waves pass off, still darker sweep.\\nAnd take the place of those that went before.\\nBlackness succeeding blackness each abyss\\nOpening to others till the straining eye\\nIs lost in fathomless deformity.\\nAnd the ear stunned with roaring for it is\\nA sea that hath a voice yes, voice is there\\nWailing and mournful cry, revenge and deep despair.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0264.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 353\\n(lxvi.) protection in danger.\\nFire and hail; snow and vapor stormy wind, fulfilling his\\nword. Ps. cxlviii. 8. What manner of man is this! For he\\ncommandeth even the winds and water, and they obey him.\\nLuke viii. 25.]\\nI HEAR the moaning of the wintry wind,\\nThat sweeps across the dreary waste of snow\\nIt moves my soul like human voice unkind,\\nOr wailings from some darkened house of woe.\\nBut I bethink me. En that sullen sound,\\nThere is a voice, which better import brings.\\nThe wind, as well as ocean, knows its bound,\\nAnd hath its mandate from the King of kings.\\nHe rules the storm, e en in its wildest mood,\\nAnd binds its strength, and tempers well its shock,\\nWhen rushing from the hills with onset rude.\\nIt threatens wide the forest and the flock.\\nT is thus he folds his people in his arm.\\nWipes every falling tear, and hushes each alarm.\\n21*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0265.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "254 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxvii.) humility.\\nBlessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of hea-\\nven. Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.\\nMatt. V. 3, 5.]\\nThe noisy brook, that from yon mountain flows,\\nDashing o er cliffs like bird upon the wing,\\nHow useless Not a bud or floweret grows\\nOn its rude banks, nor aught of living thing.\\nBut look to yon bright meadow. Scarcely seen\\nThe silent streamlet winds its gentle way,\\nEnriching as it goes its banks are green\\nBirds sing there and the flowers their charms display.\\nAnd so with Christians. Such as shall be found\\nPossessors of a meek and quiet heart.\\nFrom their own pure and inward fount impart\\nRiches to others, blessing all around.\\nThe world scarce notes them as they gently go,\\nBut bud, and flower, and fruit their pathway brightly show.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0266.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 255\\n(lxviii.) the christian s confidence in god.\\nCast not away, therefore, your confidence, which hath great\\nrecompense of reward j for ye have need of patience, that, after ye\\nhave done the will of God, ye might receive the promise. Heb.\\nX. 36, 36.]\\nThere is a flower, that with the sun doth turn.\\nWatching from morn to eve with faithful eye\\nThe mighty orb, as it cloth constant run\\nIts course of glory o er the beaming sky.\\nAnd when the sun at times conceals his face,\\nAnd round his path a night of clouds doth pour,\\nNot less that flower his cloudy track will trace,\\nAnd turn, and look, and worship as before.\\nThus doth the Christian to his Father look,\\nStill upward, from the morn till eventide\\nAnd yet he doth not deem himself forsook,\\nWhen shades and clouds the heavenly vision hide.\\nPatient he looks, until the light divine,\\nUpon his heart once more, his constant heart shall shine.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0267.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "256 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lXIX.) I WILL NOT BLAME THY TEARS.\\nHe, that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall\\ndoubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with\\nhim. Ps. cxxvi. 6.]\\nI WILL not blame thy tears Go forth and weep,\\nPoor child of sorrow Suddenly the blow\\nHath pierced the fountain, with infliction deep,\\nWhence^ in the heart, the bitter waters flow.\\nI will not blame thee God himself approves\\nThe tears, which from his wounded people steal.\\nNot seldom he afflicts whom most he loves\\nHe made the heart, and fashioned it to feel.\\nBut in thy sorrow, think, oh, think of this,\\nThat, though thou weepest, thou may st not complain.\\nEach stern, impatient throb at once dismiss.\\nNor let a thought God s providence arraign.\\nYes, shed thy tears, but shed them patiently.\\nAnd thou, in season due, shalt God s salvation see.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0268.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 257\\n(lxx.) vanity of fame.\\nHow can ye believe, which receive honor one of another and\\nseek not the honor that cometh from God John v. 41.]\\nThey call thee Son of Genius And t is true,\\nThou hast a mind, that can sublimely soar.\\nThought calls to thought within thee. In thy view\\nNew mountains rise and unknown oceans roar.\\nAnd men behold the marvels thou hast wrought,\\nExpanding fair in Fancy s wondering eye\\nAnd as they mark them, tax their grateful thought\\nTo furnish forth their meed of homage high.\\nBut this shall not avail thee in that hour,\\nWhen earthly hope and heart shall pass away,\\nThou then shalt seek an arm of mightier power,\\nOn which thy sick and wearied head to lay.\\nNo pomp, no power, no vain applause of men,\\nNought but a Saviour s help, avails to cheer thee then.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0269.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "258 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxi.) he loveth whom he chasteneth.\\nFor whom the Lord loveth he chasteoeth^ and scourgeth\\nevery son, whom he receiveth. Heb. xii. 6.]\\nThis is a cup of sorrow. Like the deer,\\nStruck by the archers on the mountain s side,\\nAnd followed far by hunting hound and spear,\\nThus am I close pursued. Both deep and wide\\nThe waters of affliction o er me sweep.\\nBut there s a meaning in it. God doth know,\\nIf we would smile, that we must also weep,\\nAnd joys at last from stricken bosoms flow.\\nHe would not have me linked unto the world\\nHe s jealous, when he sees me go astray\\nFor this the arrow from his arm is hurled;\\nYes, grief shall teach me, there s a better way.\\nOh, let me not repine, but kiss the rod,\\nWhich doth my errors smite, and calls me back to God.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0270.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 259\\n(lxxii.) persecution.\\nThen shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill\\nyou and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name s sake. But\\nhe that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.\\nMat. xxiv. 9, 13.]\\nAt that dread time, to woes and blood allied,\\nWhen Satan s angry hosts are gathering round\\nOh, who the trying hour will firm abide,\\nNor flee, when persecution stands unbound\\nOh, who, esteeming joy and life but dross,\\nWill freely barter bliss for agony.\\nAnd to his bosom binding firm the Cross,\\nDemand in chains and fire the victory\\nSons of the Kingdom Deem it good to die.\\nWhen Jesus calls you to that final pain.\\nBehold His angel bands are hovering nigh,\\nTo quench the faggot, and to rend the chain.\\nThe body falls the deathless mind shall rise.\\nRejoiced and purer from the sacrifice.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0271.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "260 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxiii.) the good shepherd.\\nI am the good shepherd, I know my sheep and am known of\\nmine. John x. 14.]\\nWhen o er the mountains blue the clouds arise,\\nCharged thick with lightning, and with hail and rain,\\nThe Shepherd, with his flocks upon the plain,\\nLooks upward, and observes the threatening skies,\\nAnd hastes and calls his lambs. He sees them roam.\\nSome on the cliffs, some by the gentle brook.\\nUnconscious of their danger. With his crook\\nAnd chiding voice, he brings them safely home.\\nAnd pens them in the fold. Our Saviour too\\nIs keeper of a flock, a precious flock.\\nPurchased by his own blood. To pastures new\\nHe leads them and beneath the shadowy rock\\nProtects them from the sun. When beat the storms,\\nHe fold them in his arms, and in his bosom warms.*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0272.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 261\\n(lxxiv.) the church.\\nOut of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined. Ps.\\n1.3. But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an\\nholy nation, a peculiar people. 1 Peter, ii. 9.]\\nWhate er in earth the ravished eye beholds,\\nWhate er of beauty in the burnished sky,\\nIt all the great Creator s power unfolds.\\nHis truth, his wisdom, his benignity.\\nThere stand they, stamped by an immortal hand,\\nIn characters, as bright as yonder sun\\nRevealed and known and read by every land,\\nLong as that burning orb its course shall run.\\nBut more his beauty from his Zion shines\\nFar more his glory from his Church is known\\nInscribed on holy hearts, in brighter lines\\nWith brighter beams, in holy actions shown.\\nYe are his Temple built and bought for Him\\nOh, then, let not its light, its holy light grow dim.\\n22", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0273.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "262 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxv.) the returning dove.\\nBut the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot and she\\nreturned unto him in the ark, for the waters were on the face of\\nof the whole earth. Gen. viii. 9.]\\nWhen Noah s Dove flew o er the waters wide,\\n(Dark were those watery fields and stormy then,)\\nBoldly and far her daring flight she tried.\\nBut found no rest, and wearied came again.\\nChrist is to us an Ark, a sheltering home,\\nA place of refuge in the hour of harm\\nAnd yet too oft, with erring wing we roam.\\nAnd seek some other place of rest and calm.\\nBut all in vain no home of peace we find\\nNo arm of help, no shelter in the gale\\nHigh beats the wave, and hostile is the wind.\\nAnd all around a thousand fears assail.\\nReturn, oh, wandering one, thy steps retrace\\nReturn, and find again, thy blessed resting-place.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0274.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 263\\n(lxxiv.) the martyrs.\\nBut none of these things move me neither count I my life\\ndear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and\\nthe ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify\\nthe Gospel of the grace of God. Acts xx. 24.]\\nFarewell, thou pleasant earth and beaming sky\\nFarewell, ye friends, our homes and hearts that blest\\nNow is the time to suffer and to die,\\nAnd pluck from torture everlasting rest.\\nWelcome, the persecutor s scoff and spear!\\nWelcome, thrice welcome, agony and flame\\nThere s that within us, which shall conquer fear,\\nAnd gam the triumph in the Saviour s name.\\nOur Father gives and shall we spurn the cup\\nThen let the fiery billows round us roll\\nT is well if, while they burn the body up,\\nThey touch not, harm not the immortal soul.\\nEarth claims its own, when dust to dust is given\\nBut claims not, holds not, what was meant for Heaven.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0275.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "264 SCRIPTURE SONNETS,\\n(lxxvii.) heaven.\\nTo an inheritance incorruptible, and nndefiled, and that fadeth\\nnot away, reserved in heaven for you. 1 Peter i. 4.]\\nToo long to higher good and beauty blind,\\nI plucked the flowers, upon my path that grew\\nTill, wounded by the thorns, my tortured mind\\nResolves a better country to pursue.\\nLand of the Pilgrim s hope and fond desire\\nThe land, where wearied hearts at last may flee\\nTo thee at length my quickened thoughts aspire\\nMine eye is turned my wings are plumed for thee.\\nAnd thus I bid, without a tear, farewell\\nTo all that charmed my sublunary sense\\nEnough for me, if I may rise and dwell.\\nWhere joy shall make no work for penitence.\\nOh, land, where wearied hearts at length may flee\\nMine eye is turned my wings are plumed for thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0276.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 265\\n(lxxviii.) Christ s intercession.\\nIf any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus\\nChrist the righteous. John ii. 1.]\\nOh, would we enter to the inward light.\\nAnd with the everlasting glory dwell\\nAs doth the eagle, in his steadfast flight,\\nStrike upward to the sun s bright citadel\\nOh, would we, ceasing here on earth to roam.\\nNor seeking more its transitory flowers.\\nBuild in the central blaze another home.\\nAnd thus forever make that glory ours\\nThen upward look to the Eternal Throne\\nBehold the mighty Intercessor there\\nHe hath the key, that makes it all our own,\\n(Unlocking all,) the golden key of Prayer.\\nIn any other way thou shalt not win\\nT is Christ, and Christ alone, that lets his people in.\\n22*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0277.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "266 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxix.) rejoicing in god.\\nThe Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer my\\nGod, my strength, in whom I will trust my buckler, and the horn\\nof my salvation, and my high tower. Ps. xviii. 2.]\\nThe bird not always mounteth on the wing,\\nNor doth he always his sweet music pour\\nBut as he silent on the branch doth swing,\\nHe ever ready is to sing or soar.\\nThe music, heard not, lingers on his tongue\\nHis flight is poising, ere it upward rise\\nThus shall his sudden harp of joy be strung,\\nAnd thou shalt see him mounting in the skies.\\nOh, Christian, be it ever thus with thee.\\nWhen sitting here, thou with the earth dost blend\\nStill as we mark thee, let us always see.\\nThou hast a wing just poising to ascend,\\nAnd that the song, which hath no outward voice,\\nStill, in the inward soul, fails never to rejoice.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0278.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 207\\n(lxxx.) secret prayer.\\nBut thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when\\nthou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret\\nand thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.\\nMatt. vi. 6.]\\nMen need a friend, into whose faithful breast\\nTheir sins and sorrows they can freely pour\\nAnd filled with hope, can from his love implore\\nSupport and pardon, purity and rest.\\nNo earthly friend can meet this high demand\\nBut God can do it. In the secret place\\nImplore his guidance and forgiving grace,\\nAnd thou shalt know his kind and aiding hand.\\nHe hears in secret. And thrice blest are they,\\nWho, all apart from men, their homage bring\\nSeeking in deepest solitude, to pay.\\nPure from the heart, their humble offering.\\nIn that blest hour, more than in any other,\\nGod meets us face to face, as brother meets with brother.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0279.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "268 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxxi.) spiritual freedom.\\nThen said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye\\ncontinue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed and ye\\nshall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. John\\nviii. 31, 32.]\\nSo prompt are men their earthly chains to break,\\nThat countless toils they cheerfully endure,\\nAnd pour their choicest blood for freedom s sake.\\nTheir sufferings to avenge, their rights secure.\\nBut there s a greater bondage there s a chain,\\nWhich deeper goes, and wastes with keener smart.\\nIt profits little, that we rend in twain\\nThe outward links, but wear them on the heart.\\nAwake arise once more the effort make\\nTo gain the higher freedom. Christ can heal\\nThe wounds of sin s dread slavery, and can break\\nThe chains which Satan binds. To Him appeal\\nLean on his arm, and it will all be well.\\nHe conquers every foe, sin, sorrow, death and hell.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0280.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 269\\n(lXXXII.) union with CHRIST.\\nAbide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit\\nof itself; except it abide in the vine no more can ye, except ye\\nabide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches. John xv. A, 5.]\\nThey love their blessed Leader. Not more close\\nThe branches cling unto the parent tree,\\nThan are his followers bound to Christ. They loose.\\nLike him, their hold on earthly things. They free\\nTheir hearts from the strong bonds of selfishness,\\nAnd yield for general good their private weal.\\nWhere er is want, despondency, distress.\\nThey have the hand to toil, the heart to feel.\\nT is thus the Saviour taught them. They are one\\nWith Him, and in their souls his image bear,\\nRejoicing in the likeness. As the sun\\nDoth spread his radiance through the fields of air,\\nAnd kindle in revolving stars his blaze.\\nHe pours upon their hearts the splendor of his rays.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0281.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "270 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxxiii.) eternity.\\nAnd sware by him that liveth forever and ever, who created\\nheaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the\\nthings that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are\\ntherein, that there should be time no longer. Rev. x. 6.]\\nAnd what is human life? The transient beam,\\nThat fades at sunset from the western sky,\\nIs not more evanescent. Yet we deem\\nThe present all in all and shut our eye\\nTo the vast boundless sea of future being.\\nStrange madness this Oh, let us rather look,\\nWith face averse from things not worth our seeing,\\nInto Eternity s unchanging book.\\nThere is vast meaninor in that single sound\\nCreated minds fail in its measurement.\\nEternity It hath no height, no bound,\\nAnd yet beyond all height, depth, bound, extent\\nTime fails worlds perish that alone rolls on,\\nUntired, unchanged, unchanging, when all else is gone.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0282.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 271\\n(lxxxiv.) winter.\\nHe giveth snow like wool he scattereth the hoar-frost like\\nashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels who can stand be-\\nfore his cold. Ps. cxlvii. 16, 17.]\\nGod sends his frost like ashes. With quick pace\\nThe stealthy sun hastes o er the hills. The wind,\\nThat sweeps their beaten sides, doth chase\\nThe desolate leaves. The ice the lake doth bind,\\nAnd the soft earth is hardened into rock.\\nThat shakes and echoes neath the shepherd s tread.\\nWho fastens from the cold his shivering flock.\\nE en the gay flowers, the laughing flowers, are dead.\\nGod sees it fit to be so. Thus he teaches\\nA lesson, which his creature man should learn,\\n(Alas, too seldom human hearts it reaches,)\\nThat all things fade, and all to dust shall turn.\\nYes, man shall have his winter, and his year\\nOf life wax old and die his leaf and bloom be sear.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0283.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "272 SCRIPTURE SONNETS.\\n(lxxxv.) the last sleep.\\nWhatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might for\\nthere is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the\\ngrave, whither thou goest. Eccl. ix. 10.]\\nAs some lone sea-bird, marked for cruel slaughter,\\nWhen by the fowler wounded, screaming goes,\\nDown, deeply down, through the dark waste of water,\\nAnd in the mud and reeds its eye doth close\\nSo from the wave of life man sinks; and o er him\\nThe billows meet, and shut his dying cry\\nDeep in the grave. And nothing shall restore him\\nTo those bright scenes, that cheered his living eye.\\nDeep in the grave he sleeps. A long, deep sleep,\\nUnmoved by toil, or care, or hope, or sorrow.\\nOr lamentable cry of friends who weep.\\nIt heeds nor closing night nor rising morrow,\\nNor storm nor thunder. Nought on earth can wake it,\\nNought but God s thrilling trump, the last great trump,\\ncan break it.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0284.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "SCRIPTURE SONNETS. 273\\n(lxxxvi.) gob seen by the mind.\\nAnd he said, Thou canst not see my face for there shall no\\nman see me, and live. Ex. xxxiii. 20.]\\nCanst tell me, what is God And can thine eye,\\nAs swift and wide it goes o er things that are,\\nDetect his outline, form, locality.\\nAnd make me know, who, what he is, and where?\\nHe is not in the cloud, nor storm, nor sea,\\nNor nimble lightning, nor the earthquake s shock.\\nNor in the balmy shrub, nor flower, nor tree,\\nNor vale, nor hill, nor everlasting rock.\\nThou canst not see Him with thy bodily sight.\\nBut send thou forth the keener eye of the mind.\\nAnd, if not darkened by some sensual blight.\\nOn every side God s presence it shall find\\nIn cloud and storm and sunny fields of air,\\nIn hills, and trees, and vales, and rocks and every where.\\n23", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0285.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "Religious Hymns and Song\\nPEJvJlTENCE.\\nOh, say when errors oft and black\\nHave deeply stained the inmost soul,\\nWho then shall call the wanderer back,\\nWho make the broken spirit whole 1\\nWho give the tortured and depressed\\nThe grateful balm, that soothes to rest\\nWhen storms are driven across the sky,\\nThe rainbow decks the troubled clouds,\\nAnd there is one, whose love is nigh,\\nWhere grief annoys and darkness shrouds\\nHe 11 stretch iabroad his bow of peace,\\nAnd bid the storm and tempest cease.\\nThen go, vain world, t is time to part)\\nToo long and darkly hast thou twined\\nAround this frail, corrupted heart,\\nAnd poisoned the immortal mind\\nOh, I have known the pangs that spring\\nFrom pleasure s beak and folly s sting.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0286.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 275\\nHail, Prince of heaven Hail, Bow of rest\\nOh, downward scatter mercy s ray,\\nAnd all the darkness of my breast\\nShall quickly turn to golden day.\\nWith Thee is peace no griefs annoy\\nAnd tears are grateful gems of joy.\\nTHE CAPTIVE JEWS. PS. CXXXVII.\\nBeneath thy palm-tree, Zion,\\nHow swift our moments flew,\\nE er sorrow o er our bosoms\\nIts clouds of darkness threw.\\nBut now by Babel s water.\\nOur tears for Salem shine.\\nAnd mid the sons of slaughter,\\nOur thoughts are only thine.\\nOur country s song, the conquerors\\nHave bid their captives pour.\\nBut when from Thee we re parted.\\nOur harps can sound no more.\\nWe sat down by the billow.\\nOur harps upon the tree.\\nAnd weeping, neath the willow,\\nOh, Zion, thought of thee.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0287.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "276 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nSolomon s choice. 1 kings hi. 5 12.\\nIt was not power with crimson spear,\\nWith starry crown and blood-shot eye\\nIt was not wealth nor golden gear\\nHe asked for, from the Lord on high\\nIt was not that his wrath might be\\nDestruction to his enemy.\\nIt was not that his life might wind\\nThrough vales more bright than fancy s dream.\\nReflecting flowers, each hue and kind,\\nThat pleasure s hand e er taught to gleam\\nOh, not for these, for Wisdom s ray\\nHe asked, and thou wouldst not gainsay.\\nAnd, Lord, like him, nor glory s plume,\\nNor wealth we seek, nor ruby s flame,\\nAgainst our foes no dreadful doom.\\nNor bliss, nor lengthened life we name;\\nBut fill our hearts from stores above\\nWith wisdom, goodness, truth, and love.\\nLIKE THE STREAMS FROM MOUNT HERMON.\\nLike the streams from mount Hermon, that borrow\\nThe waves through the vallies that roll\\nSo the streams of affliction and sorrow\\nIn torrents rush down on thy soul.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0288.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 277\\nBut the banks of the dark-flowing river,\\nWhen the rushing of waves is at rest,\\nBloom lovelier and brighter than ever,\\nWith flowers and with fragrance are blest.\\nAnd thou wilt arise joyful-hearted,\\nWith thy hopes pure and bright as a star.\\nWhen thou hear st, from the billows departed.\\nTheir terrible dashing afar.\\nThe afflictions, that now so distress thee.\\nWill leave, when departing, behind,\\nA flower, that will spring up and bless thee.\\nAnd distill all its joys on thy mind.\\nSUBMISSION.\\nThocgh sunk in darkness and despair.\\nLet not thy murmuring lips reply\\nThou art the object of his care.\\nE en in the hour of misery.\\nOh, never deem he will forget,\\nAnd leave thee to the foeman s power\\nBut rather trust, that favor yet\\nWill smile in the propitious hour.\\nHe bade the rod of Aaron bloom.\\nWhen shut from day s benignant light.\\nAnd, mid surrounding shade and gloom,\\nPut brightly forth its buds of white.\\n23*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0289.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "278 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nAnd though affliction now be thine,\\nOh, bless his kind and wise control.\\nAnd hope and joy and love shall shine,\\nAnd blossom from the troubled soul.\\nLONG DID THE CLOUDS AND DARKNESS ROLL.\\nThe Lord shall help them and deliver them he shall deliver\\nthem from the wicked, and save them, because they trust in him.\\nPs. xxxvii. 40.]\\nLong did the clouds and darkness roll\\nAround my troubled breast\\nNo starlight shone upon my soul,\\nMy footsteps found no rest.\\nTo human help I looked around.\\nBut vainly sought relief;\\nNo balm of Gilead I found,\\nNo healing for my grief.\\nThen to the Saviour s help I cried\\nHe listening heard my prayer;\\nI saw his wounded hands and side.\\nAnd felt that hope was there.\\nHe guides me in the better way;\\nHe makes my footsteps strong\\nThe gloomy night is changed to day,\\nAnd sadness chano;ed to sonsf.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0290.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 279\\nJEHOVAH, SOv rEIGN OF MY HEART.\\nBecause Thoa hast been my lielp, therefore in the shadow of\\nthy wings will I rejoice. My soul followeth hard after Thee thy\\nright hand upholdeth me. Ps. Ixiii. 7, 8.]\\nI.\\nJehovah, sov reign of my heart\\nMy joy by night and day\\nFrom Thee, oh may I never part,\\nFrom Thee ne er go astray.\\nWhene er allurements round me stand.\\nAnd tempt me from my choice\\nOh, let me find thy gracious hand.\\nOh, let me hear thy voice.\\nII.\\nThis vain and feeble heart, I know.\\nTo worldly ways is prone\\nBut penitential tears shall show,\\nThere s joy in Thee alone.\\nWith God all darkness turns to day\\nWith Him all sorrows flee;\\nThou art the true and living way.\\nAnd I will walk in Thee.\\noh, could I RULE MY ERRING THOUGHT.\\nOh, could I rule my erring thought.\\nEach wrong desire subdue\\nAnd serve my maker as I ought,\\nAnd Thou would st have me do.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0291.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "280 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nOh, could I discipline my mind,\\nTo seek the heavenly goal\\nNor strive, in eartlily things, to find\\nA treasure for the soul.\\nThen should my lips no more complain,\\nT is sin that makes my grief;)\\nBut Thou, that givest ease for pain,\\nWould st quickly bring relief.\\nAscendant over time and sense,\\nMy feet would upward move.\\nProtected by thy Providence,\\nRejoicing in thy love.\\nIF THOU would st HAVE THE WORLD TO PRIZE.\\nIf thou would st have the world to prize.\\nAnd of the wonders tell\\nThe glory and the mysteries.\\nThat in the Saviour dwell\\nThen put thyself the Saviour on,\\nAnd clothe thee with his light,\\nNor let the dress, thou oft hast worn,\\nExclude Him from their sight.\\nOh, Christian, what a shame it is.\\nThat thou thy sins dost bear.\\nWhen raiment, made of righteousness,\\nIt is thy right to wear.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0292.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 281\\nOh, let that holy garment shine,\\nThat all around may see,\\nAnd magnify the Lord Divine,\\nWhose brightness, beams from thee.\\nSOMETIMES I UPWARD LIFT MINE EYES.\\nSometimes I upward lift mine eyes,\\nAnd filled with pleasure see,\\nThe happy hosts, that throng the skies.\\nThe blood-washed company.\\nHow beautiful their robes, I say\\nTheir garments all, how white\\nFair as the sun s ascending ray,\\nAnd clear as noon-day light.\\nOh, Saviour, thou hast made them clean,\\nThe garments that they wear\\nAnd all, who wash in Thee, their sin,\\nMay in those garments share.\\nI too may wear that spotless dress,\\nIts beauty I may prove\\nIt is the robe of Holiness,\\nThe dress of Perfect Love.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0293.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "282 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nMAN S SPIRIT HATH AN UPWARD LOOK.\\nMan s spirit hath an upward look,\\nAnd robes itself with heavenly wings\\nE en when t is here compelled to brook\\nConfinement to terrestrial things.\\nIts eye is fastened on the skies\\nIts wings for flight are opened wide\\nWhy doth it hesitate to rise\\nAnd still upon the earth abide\\nAnd would st thou seek the cause to know,\\nAnd never more its course repress\\nThen from those wings their burden throw,\\nAnd set them free from worldliness.\\nShake off the earthly cares that stay\\nTheir energy and upward flight\\nAnd thou shalt see them make their way\\nTo joy, and liberty, and light.\\nTHE SECRET SIGN.\\nThey know Him by the secret sign,\\nWhich to their souls is given\\nT is written there in light divine,\\nWith characters from heaven.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0294.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYNMS AND SONGS. 283\\nThey may not tell it but t is there,\\nForever deep impressed\\nNor grief, nor pain, nor sharp despair,\\nShall rend it from their breast.\\nThe child the parent s accent knows,\\nThe accents ever dear\\nUnlike the treacherous voice of foes,\\nThat fills his heart with fear.\\nHe runs to meet it and it falls\\nIn blessings and in joys\\nAnd thus whene er the Saviour calls.\\nHis people know his voice.\\nThey know him by the secret sign,\\nWhich to their souls is given\\nT is written there in light divine.\\nWith characters from heaven.\\nDARK IS THE WATERY WAY.\\nDark is the watery way\\nOf life s tempestuous sea:\\nAnd none, Oh Christ, are safe, but they\\nWho put their trust in Thee.\\nLoud is the stormy wind\\nThe seamen are afraid\\nBut those shall strength and mercy find.\\nWhose souls on Christ are stayed.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0295.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "284 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nThe winds they do not fear,\\nNor dread the thunder s noise\\nThe Saviour s cheering voice they hear,\\nAnd evermore rejoice.\\nIt is our Saviour s skill,\\nOur Saviour s arm of might.\\nWhich guides the tossing ship at will,\\nAnd puts our fears to flight.\\nPraise to the Pilot s power.\\nPraise to the Pilot s hand,\\nThat faithful most in danger s hour,\\nShall brinsf us safe to land.\\nTHOU GIVER OF THE RISING LIGHT.\\nI.\\nThou Giver of the rising light,\\nThou Author of the morning ray\\nAt whose command the shades of night\\nAre changed to bright and sudden day\\nThou too canst rend the clouded heart,\\nEnveloped in the shades of sin\\nAnd let the light, that dwelt apart.\\nThe glory and the gladness in.\\nII.\\nOh God, our Father and our Friend,\\nDark is the cloud, that wraps us now;\\nBut not in vain our prayers ascend,\\nNor hopeless at thy feet we bow.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0296.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 285\\nT is in the dark, distressing hour,\\nThat thou dost hear thy people s cry\\nAnd come and clothe them in thy power,\\nAnd hide them in thy majesty.\\nMY HEART IS IN A LAND AFAR.\\nMy heart is in a land afar.\\nUnseen by mortal eyes\\nA clime, that needs nor moon nor star,\\nA land of cloudless skies.\\nThey tell me, that the earth is bright.\\nAnd I have pleasures here;\\nBut still, in that far land of light.\\nAre pleasures yet more dear.\\nOh, that I had an angel s wing,\\nTo bear me hence away\\nWhere virtue blooms with endless spring,\\nAnd love shall ne er decay.\\nMy heart is in that land afar,\\nUnseen by mortal eyes\\nA clime, that needs nor moon nor star,\\nA land of cloudless skies.\\n24", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0297.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "286 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nALTHOUGH AFFLICTION SMITES MY HEART.\\nAlthough affliction smites my heart,\\nAnd earthly pleasures flee,\\nThere is one bliss that ne er shall part,\\nMy joy, oh God, in Thee.\\nThat joy is like the orb of day,\\nWhen clouds its track pursue\\nThe shades and darkness throng its way,\\nBut sunlight struggles through.\\nOh Thou, my everlasting light.\\nOn whom my hopes rely\\nWith Thee the darkest path is bright,\\nAnd fears and sorrows die.\\nwilt thou, oh my father, leave me?\\nWilt Thou, Oh my Father, leave me?\\nStill I 11 bless thy holy will\\nI may lose, but will not grieve Thee;\\nI will love Thee still.\\nLong and sharply Thou dost chide me\\nI am filled with grief and shame\\nBut I have no joy beside Thee,\\nLoving still, the same.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0298.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 287\\nLike the sun-flower, ever turning\\nMeekly to the skies its face\\nStill my heart for Thee is burning,\\nThough Thou hid st thy grace.\\nThus my Father heard me praying\\nDrawing near, once more He smiled\\nJoyfully I heard Him saying,\\nThou art still my child.\\nI did leave thee but to try thee\\nTrying, I have found thee mine\\nNow I always will be nigh thee;\\nAll I have is thine.\\nTHE DIVINE LIFE.\\nButhe, that is joined to the Lordj is one spirit. 1 Cor. vi. 17.\\nOh, sacred union with the Perfect Mind\\nTranscendent bliss, which Thou alone canst give\\nHow blest are they, this pearl of price who find.\\nAnd dead to earth, have learnt in Thee to live.\\nThus, in thine arms of love, Oh God, I lie.\\nLost, and forever lost, to all but Thee.\\nMy happy soul, since it hath learnt to die,\\nHath found new life in thine Infinity.\\nOh, go, and learn this lesson of the Cross\\nAnd tread the way, which saints and prophets trod.\\nWho, counting life, and self, and all things loss.\\nHave found in inward death the life of God.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0299.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "288 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nTHEY SAY THEIR PATH WITH FLOWERS IS STROWN.\\nI.\\nThey say, their path with flowers is strown,\\nAnd all their way is bright;\\nBut as for me, I walk alone,\\nEncircled with the night.\\nBut do not think my joy the less.\\nOh, no I love to be\\nAbandoned, in my helplessness.\\nTo deep obscurity.\\nII.\\nI love the thunder s voice to hear\\nTo see the lightnings play\\nAnd smile, when many a danger near\\nComes thronging round my way.\\nT is then all human help is vain,\\nAll human hopes overthrown\\nAnd, in my great necessity,\\nI rest in God alone.\\nIF THERE IS SUNSHINE IN THE FACE.\\nIf there is sunshine in the face,\\nAnd joy upon the brow,\\nDo not suppose, that there s a trace\\nOf answering joy below.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0300.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 289\\nAnd what avails the outward light,\\nUpon the face the smile\\nIf all within is dark as night,\\nIf all is dead the while.\\nDeep in the heart the evil lies,\\nWhich nought on earth can cure\\nAversion to the only Wise,\\nTo God, the only Pure.\\nOh Thou, who giv st the heart renewed.\\nWithhold it not from me.\\nThat, all my enmity subdued,\\nI may rejoice in Thee.\\nPOWER OF GOD.\\nOh, Thou, from whom the vaulted sky\\nUpward to light and beauty sprung,\\nWho on the lightning s wing dost fly.\\nAnd speakest in the thunder s tongue;\\nShall such a feeble thing as man,\\nWhose breath is measured by an hour.\\nDeride Jehovah s mighty plan.\\nOr stand against Jehovah s power\\nVain thouorht is this Thou King of kings\\nFor Thou dost give to thrones their birth\\nAnd with the waving of thy wings\\nCanst sweep them headlong from the earth.\\n24*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0301.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "290 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS\\nAll things are neath thy high command\\nThou art the Father, God of all\\nAt thy behest the world doth standi\\nAt thy rebuke the world shall fall.\\nTHE SONG OF THE ANGELS.\\nI.\\nThe Star was bright o er Bethlehem s plain,\\nThe shepherds watched their fleecy train,\\nWhen sudden gleamed the sky the tongue\\nOf angel bands in concert sung.\\nPeace and good icill to mcn^^ their song,\\nGood will, while ages roll along\\nThe Saviour comes, let nations hear.\\nBe hushed each grief, be wiped each tear.\\nII.\\nNo more shall war bear iron sway.\\nVengeance and wrath shall pass away\\nOppression bind no more its chain,\\nAnd gladness dwell on earth again.\\nThe harp, that melted Eden s bower.\\nShall breathe once more its soothing power\\nAnd peace, and praise, and truth shall bless\\nThe world with hope and loveliness.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0302.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 291\\nGOD PRAISED IN HIS WORKS.\\nJehovah 1 How creation sounds\\nAloud the honors of thy name\\nIn every star that takes its rounds,\\nT is registered in words of flame.\\nT is written on the morning flower\\nT is sounded in the matins loud\\nOf birds in dewy bush and bower\\nThe lark doth teach it to the cloud.\\nThe herds and flocks on hill and plain.\\nAs well as birds the air that skim\\nThe fish, that haunt the briny main.\\nAnd through its oozy caverns swim\\nThey all have voice and meaning high,\\nAnd all in their own way confess,\\n(What none but sinful men deny,)\\nThy goodness, wisdom, righteousness.\\nPROTECTION FROxM GOD.\\nFather of all, by all adored.\\nFor whom archangels sweep the lyre\\nOh, be our steps from sin restored.\\nOh, grant thy love, avert thine ire", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0303.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "292 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nRelume our hearts with heavenly light,\\nThat we, in all Thy works, may own\\nThy goodness with supreme delight,\\nAnd unto others make it known.\\nTo God all holiness belongs\\nHis arm upholds us every hour\\nTo Him we raise our grateful songs.\\nAnd supplicate His guardian power.\\nHe is our God, and He our friend,\\nOur fortress and our strong defence\\nHis angels for our watch doth send,\\nAnd shield us with omnipotence.\\nTHE ORPHAN.\\nLeave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive and\\nlet Ihy widows trust in me. Jer. xlix. 11.]\\nOh, that I had a home\\nAs others have nor be\\nWith none to pity me.\\nCompelled, with many tears\\nAnd sighs, afar to roam.\\nOh, once it was not so.\\nBut o er our cot the trees\\nBowed in the morning breeze,\\nBefore our day of grief,\\nOur gloomy time of woe.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0304.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 293\\nHow pleasant was the sight,\\nWhen blazed at eve the pile,\\nTo see my mother s smile.\\nTo hear my father s voice\\nIt filled me with delight.\\nBut they are dead and gone.\\nAnd into other hands\\nHave passed our pleasant lands.\\nOur cot and its green trees,\\nAnd I am left alone.\\nAnd whither shall I go\\nOh, God! to Thee I cry;\\nTo Thee I lift mine eye\\nThou art the orphan s friend\\nHave pity on my woe.\\nPAR IN THE LONELY WOODS.\\nFar in the lonely woods,\\nWhere wild flowers scent the air,\\nT is sweet to hear at eve\\nThe missionary s prayer.\\nThe Indian households come,\\nThe Indian chiefs are nigh\\nAnd oft unwonted tears\\nBedew their softened eye.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0305.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "294 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nHow joyful is the sound\\nThey hear of Jesus name,\\nWho, leaving heaven behind,\\nFor their salvation came.\\nIn their rude tents before,\\nThey heard no praying voice\\nNow sad and dark no more.\\nTheir grateful hearts rejoice.\\nFar in the lonely woods,\\nWhere wild flowers scent the air,\\nT is sweet to hear at eve\\nThe missionary s prayer.\\nEARTHLY OBJECTS UNSATISFYING.\\nWhene er the sun, with vernal ray,\\nShines o er the snowy cliff and hill,\\nTheir wintry treasures melt away,\\nAnd mingle with the rushing rill.\\nThey now are there and now are gone\\nA moment gleam and then are passed\\nSo earthly hopes, to-day that shone.\\nTo-morrow fade away as fast.\\nIf then our pleasures here below.\\nAlthough we think we hold them sure,\\nAre like the dews and mountain snow,\\nAnd will not, cannot long endure;", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0306.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 295\\nWhy should they trouble thus our mind\\nAnd why our ceaseless efforts call\\nWhen all the good, that thence we find,\\nIs both so fleeting and so small.\\nTHE BEST FRIENDSHIP.\\nIf clouds arise and storms appear,\\nIf fortune, friends, and all forsake me.\\nThere s one to shed with mine the tear,\\nAnd to His bleeding bosom take me.\\nBlest Saviour Let it be my lot,\\nTo tread with Thee this round of being\\nThy love and mercy alter not.\\nWhen every sunbeam friend is fleeing.\\nOh, be it thine to guide my soul\\nAlong the wave of life s dark ocean\\nAnd nought I 11 fear, when billows roll,\\nNor dread the whirlwind s rude commotion.\\nThy love shall be my polar light.\\nAnd whether weal or woe betide me.\\nThrough raging storm and shadowy night,\\nIts blaze shall shine to cheer and guide me.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0307.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "296 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nTHE DEPARTING CHRISTIAN.\\nI.\\nOn earth when the journey allotted us closes,\\nAnd spirit and body are hasting away,\\nIf a gleam, on our parting, of mercy reposes,\\nOh, who in this lone world would wish to delay\\nOh, who would not flee from the ties that endear us.\\nAnd bind us most close to the things here below.\\nTo the land, where pollution can never come near us.\\nAnd bliss is disturbed by no moments of woe\\nII.\\nThen joy to the soul, that is ripe for ascending.\\nIf hope is the star, that enlightens death s vale\\nFor why should we keep it from joys never ending,\\nTo tenant this mansion of weeping and wail 1\\nIts stains, washed away by the full, crimson gushes\\nFrom the wounded Redeemer, no longer remain\\nOn the wings of an angel to heaven it rushes,\\nTo be happy forever and ever to reign.\\nOMNIPRESENCE OF THE DEITY.\\nWho bids the billow heave its breast,\\nThen soothes its troubled throb to rest?\\nWho bids the coral greenly bloom\\nAround the sea-boy s ocean tomb\\nOh Lord! The sky, the earth, the sea.\\nAnd all things else are full of Thee", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0308.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 297\\nAt whose command, when eve doth fall\\nWith mantle dim, overshadowing all.\\nDo trooping stars come twinkling through,\\nAnd deckincp bright heaven s arch of blue?\\nFather The sky, the sea, the earth.\\nProclaim the author of their birth.\\nThine are the mountains, thine the caves\\nThou ridest on the winds and waves\\nThine is the bright o er-arching bow,\\nThe thunder s voice, the lightning s glow\\nThe earth, the sea, the sky are thine\\nIn all Thou art, in all divine.\\nOH, COULD I BEHOLD\\nI.\\nOh, could I behold but the light of thy face.\\nAnd renew all the raptures that once so enchanted.\\nWhen my footsteps first trod in the heavenly race.\\nAnd the road, I had entered, with roses was planted\\nNot the song from the traveler, faint and astray.\\nWhen his tribute of praise and of gladness is blending.\\nFor the fountains and palm-groves he found on his way.\\nShould match with the strain from my bosom ascending.\\nII.\\nThou Star of the Christian Thou Guide of the lost\\nOh, withhold not the beams that can lead and can gladden\\nFrail man, on the ocean of life when he s tost.\\nWhen the billows float high, and the wild tempests\\nmadden.\\n25", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0309.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nBlest Saviour Once more be the light of my soul\\nAnd amid all the dangers and griefs that oppress me,\\nThis heart shall submit to thy faultless control,\\nThe song of these lips shall unceasingly bless thee.\\nDOUBTS AND FEARS.\\nIn the day of visitation,\\nWhen the clouds have o er thee passed.\\nAnd thou thinkest that salvation\\nMay not bless thee at the last;\\nIn the hour of doubts and fearing,\\nWhen the Saviour seems afar.\\nAnd thy spirit, without cheering.\\nIs the night without a star\\nKnow, that it is all to try thee,\\nAnd that Jesus loves thee still.\\nNor will ever He deny thee,\\nIf thou walkest in his will.\\nHe hath set the great example.\\nFollow on, as he hath trod\\nDoubts and sin beneath thee trample.\\nLive and act and hope in God.\\nThen, though light or dark attend thee,\\nIn the end t will be the same\\nIf the Saviour doth befriend thee,\\nThou shalt ne er be put to shame.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0310.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 299\\nHYMN AT SEA.\\nT IS not in yonder starry host,\\nOh, God of might I see Thee most,\\nAlthough Thy skill and power divine\\nIn sun and moon and planets shine\\nWhen tossed upon the raging sea,\\nI view and feel the most of Thee.\\nThe sea-birds stretch their wings on high,\\nAnd shriek beneath the warring sky\\nIn mountain piles the billows flow,\\nAnd laboring ships toss to and fro,\\nAnd from Thy red, right arm doth roll\\nThe thundering bolt from pole to pole.\\nOh, then I know Jehovah s form.\\nCareering in the bellowing storm.\\nOh, then I see his wond rous way.\\nWhere o er the deep the lightnings play\\nI see I hear I bow my soul.\\nAnd yield it to his high control.\\nTHE PILGRIM S RETURN.\\nWhen the pilgrims of earth seek their parents embrace.\\nAfter long years of absence their residence greeting,\\nAnd meet the dear objects of love face to face.\\nTheir rapture how high Oh, how happy their meeting\\nMore happy are they, who arrive at the shore,\\nWhere friends, when they mingle, shall part never more.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0311.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "300 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nOn the blest hills of heaven behold them appear,\\nTheir hands to their harps, wreathed with roses, ad-\\ndressing\\nThey raise to the Saviour, who wipes every tear.\\nAscriptions of honor, and glory, and blessing.\\nHis arm through their perils hath led to the shore,\\nWhere friends, when they mingle, shall part never more.\\nThe homes of this world become dim and decay,\\nAnd friends, when they meet, are too soon called to\\nsever\\nBut the mansions prepared in the regions of day,\\nStand beaming and beautiful ever and ever\\nAnd those, whom the Saviour shall lead to that shore,\\nShall stray from its mansions, and part never more.\\nA VOICE FROM THE DYING.\\nThe world misdeem it. Oh, t is not,\\nAs some assert, a hapless lot\\nTo stand with wings unfurled.\\nJust starting for that heavenly world,\\nWhere woe s forgot.\\nT is true, I leave my friends behind.\\nAnd I have ever known them kind.\\nIn past, departed hours\\nBut shall I not in heaven s bowers\\nTrue friendship find", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0312.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 301\\nT is time to rend apart the chain,\\nThat binds to scenes so sad and vain\\nAs here afflict our eyes.\\nNo sorrow dwells beyond the skies,\\nNo tears, no pain.\\nLet those, who love me, rise and dare\\nTo spurn the world, and seek me there,\\nIn that bright land of rest\\nAnd with the good, the pure, the blest.\\nIn bliss to share.\\nTHE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW LIFE.\\nAh, how long shall I delight\\nIn the memory of that day,\\nWhen the shades of mental night\\nSudden passed away\\nLong around my darkened view\\nHad those lingering shadows twined\\nTill the Gospel, breaking through,\\nChased them from my mind.\\nThere was light in every thing,\\nEvery thing was bathed in bliss\\nTrees did wave, and birds did sing,\\nFull of happiness.\\n25*", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0313.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "302 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nBeauty in the woods shone forth,\\nBeauty did the flowers display;\\nAnd my glorious Maker s worth\\nBeamed with matchless ray.\\nAh, how long shall I delight\\nIn the memory of that day,\\nWhen the shades of mental night\\nSudden passed away.\\nCONVERSION.\\nOnce I had a heart within,\\nThankless and opposed to God\\nAnd, wandering in the ways of sin.\\nIn wisdom s ways had never trod.\\nMercies were regarded not,\\nJudgments came my soul to try.\\nBut in a moment were forgot.\\nAnd left me still to vanity.\\nBut the Spirit showed at last\\nAll the strictness of the Law,\\nAnd, as its mirror o er me passed.\\nMy heart s depravity I saw.\\nThen my soul, in deep despair,\\nFelt within the rankling dart\\nBut Jesus plucked it out with care,\\nAnd gave a renovated heart.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0314.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 303\\nWhat I loved and sought before\\nPleases me no longer now\\nBut at the cross my prayers I pour,\\nAt Jehovah s feet I bow.\\nGATHER THE ROSES.\\nGather the roses, while you may^\\nOld time is still a-jiying\\nBut not the roses that bloom to-day,\\nAnd to-morrow that are dying.\\nGather the roses while you may,\\nTo wreathe thy brow of sorrow\\nBut not the roses that bloom to-day,\\nAnd wither and fall to-morrow.\\nGather the roses while you may.\\nThe roses that are glowing\\nWhere the balmy gales of Eden play,\\nAnd the stream of life is flowing.\\nGather the roses that are there.\\nYour temples brightly wreathing.\\nAnd the touch of time shall ne er impair\\nThe garland so bright and breathing.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0315.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "304 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nDESIRING TO BE WITH CHRIST.\\nI BID my hours to hasten on,\\nThat I may be, where Christ has gone;\\nWith him I long in heaven to meet,\\nTo pay my honors at his feet,\\nOh thou blest Saviour Thou dost see\\nHow sad my heart, when far from Thee\\nE en here on earth thy love I share,\\nBut I had rather see thee there.\\nThou said st, before thy feet were set\\nUpon their march from Olivet,\\nWhat time the clouds and heavens of light\\nReceived thee from the gazer s sight\\nThat thou didst go, that there might be\\nA place prepared for us and Thee.\\nOh, fit me for that dwelling-place,\\nWhere I shall see Thee face to face\\nMISSIONARY HYMN.\\nT IS now the time of strife and war.\\nThe contest sounds on every side\\nNations are bound to Satan s car,\\nAnd who shall meet him in his pride?", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0316.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 305\\nIs there no arm his power to break?\\nAre there no hearts that deeply feel\\nSons of the kingdom Rise, awake\\nObey at length your Saviour s will\\nGo, swell the trumpet s warning voice,\\nThe captive sons of earth to tell\\nOf Him, who bids the saints rejoice,\\nOf Him, who saves the soul from hell.\\nGo, bear the Gospel banner forth.\\nIts glittering web of light unroll,\\nTo gleam sublime from south to north.\\nAnd scatter light from pole to pole.\\nHark T is the trumpet s warning cry\\nLo, o er the earth the banners wave\\nThe Lord of glory comes from high,\\nTo rule, to conquer, and to save.\\nIN ALL THE COUNTLESS ORBS.\\nIn all the countless orbs that shine\\nAlong the azure halls of even.\\nIs seen the forming hand divine\\nOf Him, who rules in earth and heaven.\\nWherever shines their silver beam.\\nWhere er they set, where er they rise,\\nAppears the skill, in every gleam.\\nOf Him who rules the earth and skies.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0317.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "306 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nThen go at night, and look afar\\nO er all the blue, ethereal sky,\\nAnd read in every rolling star\\nThe glory of the Deity.\\nAnd .when thou readest, think that thou\\nShouldst not withhold the tribute due\\nBut with a grateful spirit bow\\nTo Hinij whose mercy thinks of you.\\nTHE LATTER DAY GLORY.\\nThe day of light is but beginning\\nMillions yet in darkness lie,\\nIgnorant of God, and sinning;\\nThoughtless of their destiny.\\nThe day of light is just appearing,\\nWeak and transient are its rays\\nBut they fill our souls with cheering\\nProspects of the noontide blaze.\\nOh, may the coming morning brighten,\\nWith its splendors beaming wide,\\nTill its blessed rays enlighten\\nAll, who on the eiirth reside.\\nAnd, for this glorious consummation,\\nLet each Christian watch and pray,\\nAnd the church in every nation\\nStrive to hasten on that day.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0318.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 307\\nThough raised by sinners sunk and striken,\\nPrayer will reach Jehovah s throne;\\nAnd the Saviour s smile will quicken\\nHopes, that rest on him alone.\\nIF THERE E ER WAS A TIME.\\nIf there e er was a time of rejoicing, t was then\\nWhen we first broke asunder the shackles that bound us,\\nAnd walked in a freedom more blest than of men,\\nFor the smiles of the Saviour were scattered around us.\\nDrawn forth from the shades of our prison, we deemed\\nAll nature resplendent with light and with beauty\\nAnd oft, in the glow of our feelings, it seemed\\nWe ne er could be wanting in love and in duty.\\nAnd shall it be said, that our souls cease to love?\\nAnd shall we forget so transcendent a blessing\\nDear Saviour, look down from thy mansions above,\\nAnd from moment to moment bestow thy refreshing.\\nT is in Thee that we live Thou didst give us our life.\\nT is in Thee that we hope; let thy banner be o er us.\\nUnless Thou dost aid us, we fail in the strife,\\nBut with Thee every foe shall be driven before us.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0319.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "308 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nGOD S GLORY IN CREATION.\\nWhene er I see the morning sun,\\nRejoicing from the east to run,\\nAnd o er the sky his journey hold,\\nWith eye of fire and robes of gold\\n(So proud his march, so bright he blazes,\\nThat e en the eagle, as he gazes,\\nCan scarce his burning track behold\\nWhene er I view the stars display.\\nTo deck the sky their silver ray.\\nAnd mark, along the welkin wide,\\nThe evening s placid empress glide;\\nMy soul is full of Him, who made them,\\nThe God, whose magic power arrayed them.\\nIn all their beauty, all their pride.\\nNor this alone T is God doth dress\\nThe spring in all its loveliness\\nT is God, who gives to field and bower,\\nThe autumn s fruit and summer s flower.\\nThe earth we tread, the heavens that bound us,\\nWith all within and all around us.\\nDeclare his wisdom and his power.\\nWhere er we dwell, where er we go,\\nOn hill above, or vale below.\\nBy streams through distant meads that glide.\\nBy forests, waving in their pride\\nWe every where the proof discover.\\nThat God around the earth doth hover,\\nAnd dwells forever at our side.\\nJ", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0320.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 309\\nENCOURAGEMENT.\\nSay not, t is all a dreary way,\\nWith rocks beset with briars growing,\\nWhere never beams of sunlight stray,\\nAnd ne er a gentle stream is flowing.\\nOr if it be, that thou dost go\\nThrough scenes so darksome, wild, and frightful.\\nYet there is one who loves thee so.\\nThat he can make e en this delightful.\\nJesus is ever near at hand.\\nTo aid, to guide, and to deliver.\\nWith his own arm, the chosen band\\nWhich he hath bought, to keep forever.\\nThen drive away thy doubts and fears.\\nNor dread the ills that threat to hurt thee\\nFor Christ, that saw thee in thy tears.\\nHath said, He never will desert thee.\\nDAY OF JUDGMENT.\\nOft, when the shades of evening come.\\nAnd still the caravan s deep hum.\\nThe desert s wind, with poisoned breath.\\nSweeps o er, and smites with sudden death.\\n2^", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0321.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "310 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nAnd thus, with sudden, deep dismay.\\nShall come the judgment s awful day,\\nAnd wide the final trump disperse\\nIts summons through the universe.\\nThe earth shall hear the trumpet s tongue\\nThe dead arise, both old and young\\nThey upward look, and in the sky\\nRead their eternal destiny.\\nOh, then what terrors meet the view\\nOf those who now the earth pursue\\nWho see their hopes and bliss expire,\\nWithered and burnt in penal fire.\\nTHINK NOT THAT THE BLEST.\\nThink not that the blest, whom the Lord hath befriended,\\nThough scorned by the world, and though smitten with\\ngrief.\\nWill be left by the arm, that has once been extended,\\nTo suffer and perish without its relief.\\nOh, no When the clouds of affliction and sorrow\\nEncircle their souls with the darkness of night.\\nThy mercy, Oh God, like the sun of to-morrow,\\nShall gleam on the shadows and turn them to light.\\nHe leaves us awhile to the billow s commotion.\\nTo see if our faith in the storm will remain\\nBut soon He looks out in his smiles, and the ocean\\nIs hushed from its threats, and is quiet again.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0322.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 311\\nRESURRECTION OF THE SAINTS.\\nFools make a mock, while scoffers say,\\nWhere is the great, and final day\\nBut in the destined hour shall rue,\\nWhile sahits rejoice, that God is true.\\nHark Through the air the trumpet s peal\\nSee Opening graves their dead reveal\\nThe Saviour from the dust doth claim\\nThe blessed followers of his name.\\nTheir troubled souls are now at peace,\\nForever now their conflicts cease;\\nTheir cruel foes no longer reign.\\nNor sin distresses them again.\\nREMEMBRANCE IN PRAYER.\\nWhen at the hour of prayer thy heart\\nThe fervor of its love discovers,\\nIn secret as thou kneel st apart.\\nAnd many an angel round thee hovers.\\nOh, then remember me\\nWhen down thy cheeks the tear-drops roll,\\nOf gratitude for sins forgiven.\\nAnd thou dost feel within thy soul\\nA ray of joy just sent from heaven,\\nOh, then remember me", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0323.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "S12 RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS.\\nFor who, that sees thee trembling, kneeling,\\nOr may thy meek entreaties hear,\\nTo Heaven so fervently appealing.\\nWill not believe that God is near\\nOh, then remember me\\nAsk not for earthly pomp, or pleasure\\nA humble, meek, and holy heart\\nTo me is far a greater treasure.\\nThan earth s vain glories can impart.\\nOh, thus remtmhcr me\\nTHE PASSING OF JORDAN.\\nI.\\nOh, why should our hopes be diminished and languish?\\nAnd hearts, once confirmed, yield to fears and to anguish\\nWe have come to the brink of the dark swelling river\\nOne plunge through its waves, then salvation forever.\\nHallelujah to the Lamb, who hath purchased our pardon:\\nWe will praise him again, when we pass over Jordan.\\nH.\\nTo our Saviour we look Oh, what care hath He taken\\nIn all our past griefs we were never forsaken.\\nHe hath been at our side, in the flame and the slaughter\\nAnd will still bear us up, when we pass the dark water.\\nHallelujah to the Lamb, who hath purchased our pardon\\nWe will praise him again, when we pass over Jordan.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0324.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND SONGS. 313\\nIII.\\nRedeemer of men thou art holy and glorious;\\nThough many oppose, thou alone are victorious*\\nThou wilt ride through the waves with the great congre-\\ngation\\nWhile their lips shout thy praise, and rejoice in salvation.\\nHallelujah to the Lamb, who hath purchased our pardon\\nWe will praise him again, when we pass over Jordan.\\nTHE LAST SONG.\\nT IS said, when the swan is dying,\\nEre her languid eye doth close\\nOn the reeds around her lying,\\nWhich await her last repose\\nThat she breathes a soft lamenting.\\nAs she views her verdant grave\\nAnd then to her fate consenting.\\nSinks peaceful beneath the wave.\\nSo, when life s journey is ending,\\nAnd the angels bid us rise.\\nFrom the shades of earth ascending,\\nTo assemble in the skies\\nOh, then may the song that s meetest,\\nNo longer a note of woe.\\nFrom our lips the last, the sweetest.\\nIn joy and in triumph flow.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0325.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "American Cottage life.\\n(VIII.*) THE OLD HOUSE.\\n[One of the painful things of this life, is its frequent and\\nnecessary separations. As a general thing, no one leaves the\\nhome of his fathers, the place of his early experiences and\\nassociations, without regret. But this regret is often alleviated\\nby the consideration, that he may occasionally return and renew\\nfor a time the pleasures of his youth. It becomes, therefore, an\\nexceedingly painful moment, when he learns, as is sometimes\\nthe case, that the place of his childhood s residence, either in\\nconsequence of death or of misfortune, has passed into other\\nhands. From that moment he feels, that one of the strong ties,\\nwhich bound him to earth and its happiness, is sundered.]\\nI.\\nWhen he, who bore a Father s name, his head,\\nAt nature s bidding, in the dust did lay,\\nA Mother s presence still its brightness shed\\nAround the place of childhood s early day.\\nIt still was home. At length my Mother died.\\nSadly and low repose her ashes cold,\\nIn peace and silence, near the Father s side.\\nOh, then was snapped affection s link of gold,\\nBut still we had a home, till the old house w as sold.\\nThis poem, which failed to be inserted in its proper place, was designed as\\nthe eighth in the series of Poems on the general subject of American Cottage\\nLife, which is found in this volume.\\n1", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0326.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "THE OLD HOUSE, 315\\nII.\\nThere yet was something, where the heart could rest,\\nA bond of unisn, which could keep us one.\\nWe could not deem, that we were all unblest,\\nUntil the hour, when the Old House was gone.\\nBut children now of exile and of grief,\\nAnd wandering far from distant place to place,\\nT will give the troubled heart some small relief,\\nThe record of that ancient home to trace,\\nThat image of the heart, which time can ne er deface\\nIII.\\nAnd shall I pass along those steps no more?\\nNo more the well known forms and voices greet\\nShall foreign footprints press the oft-trod floor,\\nAnd other hearts around that hearthstone beat?\\nPeace be upon them, whosoe er they be,\\n(Fervent and calm, my saddened spirit prays,)\\nPeace be to them, as it hath been to me,\\nAs pleased they throng around the evening blaze,\\nAnd blessings, well deserved, refresh their coming days.\\nIV.\\nOh Evening Hearth Capacious didst thou stand,\\nWith welcome light; but who, alas, shall tell\\nThe thoughts, the hopes, the feelings of the band,\\nThat gathered round thee, and that loved thee well?\\nThere hath the stranger s wonderous tale been said\\nAround that hearth have songs of joy ascended\\nThere too, when woe its bitter cup hath shed,\\nHath sorrowing voice with weeping voices blended.\\nBut all those scenes are passed, and joy and sorrow ended.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0327.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "316 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nV.\\nAll gone Not one remains to tell the tale,\\nThe pleasures, dangers, toils of former years;\\nI look around, but ancient aspects fail.\\nAnd ancient voices reach no more mine ears.\\nAnd yet memorials claim my curious eye,\\nThat have not lost upon the heart their sway\\nThey link me for a time to things gone by\\nT is the last hour, and time hath no delay;\\nI give this parting look, and then am on my way.\\nVI.\\nOnce more I tread the room t was mine alone\\nBy special love and privilege possessed\\nIt held whatever of wealth I called my own,\\nA bed, a chair, a table, and a chest.\\nSnug in the chest s apartments safe I stored\\nMany small things, the choice of childhood s time.\\nThe fruits, which autumn gave, a various hoard;\\nWith pictures, maps, historic tales, and rhyme\\nSome leaves of Cowper s Task, and Milton s song sublime.\\nVII.\\nHere oft I mused in the reflective hour\\n(For what is youth without its golden dreams?)\\nE en then young fancy, in her early power.\\nRevealed the dazzling light of higher themes,\\nThat brightly came, but perished in their birth.\\nThrow up the window Let me look around.\\nAnd see once more, how fair my natal earth\\nThe spreading elm still shades the verdant ground\\nWith flowers and shrubs the plains, with woods the hills\\nabound.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0328.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "THE OLD HOUSE. 317\\nVIII.\\nOh, yes The summer flowers are yet in bloom\\nThe summer birds in air and woods are singing\\nThe bees are humming in the rich perfume;\\nAnd o er the plains the heavy cart is ringing.\\nWhen early morning shone or eve drew near,\\nThe milkmaid called the cows through yonder lane.\\nNo more her morning song salutes the ear;\\nNor to his early work goes forth again\\nTims with his glistening spade, or Dick that drove the\\nIX.\\nThis is the room, where oft I sat, when day,\\nAs left the sun the busy haunts of men,\\nGleamed with his parting glow. In slow array\\nThe mists ascending clothed the distant glen.\\nThe silver moon, throned in the tranquil West,\\nRejoicing, smiled in her recovered light.\\nThus sat I long, with fancy s forms possessed\\nAnd marked the beetle s hum, and watched the flight\\nOf dim, mysterious bats, that thronged the early night.\\nX.\\nHere too, at dewy morn, the new-born joys\\nOf waking nature claimed my youthful heart;\\nThe lowing herd afar; the various voice\\nOf hymning birds, that plied their merry art;\\nThe teamster s call, the ploughboy s whistle shrill\\nWhile sounding loud, the water s distant roar\\nCame intermingled with the clanging mill.\\nSuch were the sights and sounds, now known no more,\\nThat nascent day could brinji, or its decline restore.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0329.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "318 AMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXI.\\nAgain the parlor s sanded floor I trace\\nIts walls, with ancient prints suspended high;\\nIts mantle neat, with flower and branch to grace\\nThe parlor, safe from public scrutiny.\\nHere were the scenes and sessions more sedate,\\nWhich thoughts less light and weightier judgments\\nclaim\\nT was here we loved the hour to celebrate,\\nWhich heard announced the village Pastor s name.\\nOr when the friends remote, or Angelina came.\\nXII.\\nIn fragments oft, and ever old in date.\\nOn yonder shelf, some well-known books reposed;\\nThe Pilgrim s Progress, and the Fourfold State,\\nAnd others, nameless now, which yet disclosed\\nThe truths and hopes of Puritanic lore.\\nAnd near the Grandsire sat, with visage sage,\\nAnd spectacles in place; and long would pore\\nThe serious thought, that stamped the homely page;\\nAnd drop the tear, perchance, for this degenerate age.\\nXIII.\\nNow pass along. T was there the settle rude.\\nAt weary eve its form expanded wide\\nAnd tall, upright, in yonder angle stood\\nThe ancient clock, by long experience tried.\\nNo more at early morn its prompting sound\\nShall send us forth to duty and to care.\\nNo more at eve shall summon us around\\nThe sober hearth, in pious acts to share.\\nT was in this spot we kneeled this was the place of prayer.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0330.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "THE OLD HOUSE.\\nXIV.\\n319\\nT was thus I passed from well known room to room,\\nAnd scanned the objects, which they gave to light\\nT is true, the scrutiny possessed its gloom,\\nWhen memory showed them to the inner sight,\\nInscribed with place, with feature, and with name,\\nAs on that day, which changed my happy lot.\\nAnd called me hence. (Alas, too soon it came.)\\nT was thus I lingering marked each well known spot,\\nNor kitchen was passed by nor garret was forgot.\\nXV.\\nThe garret! and 1 name it, placed sublime,\\nAbove the parlor s pride, the kitchen s mirth\\nThe grateful Muse well knoweth, that her rhyme\\nHath in the garret often had its birth.\\nWhat though the noisy mice rush gaily round?\\nWhat though insidious spiders weave their bed\\nHath not great Goldsmith there a lodging found\\nAnd mighty Johnson oft reposed his head.\\nWhen for the sons of song no other couch was spread.\\nXVI.\\nOft have I spent the studious hour retired\\nHigh in the Garret. There, with book in hand.\\nPerchance, with wild poetic thoughts inspired,\\nI bade young fancy rove o er sea and land.\\nE en then Imagination, though a child,\\nPut forth her little wing, instinct with flame.\\nAnd soared afar to Scotia s mountains wild,\\nTo cliffs and mounts, that bear the Alpine name,\\nKnown in the Muses song, and consecrate to fame.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0331.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "3-20\\nAMERICAN COTTAGE LIFE.\\nXVII.\\nHistorians wise, vvith graphic pen, have traced\\nThe fortunes states and mighty nations share;\\nIf right we deem, it would not be misplaced.\\nIf private men and fortunes had their care.\\nEach heart, each home, itself a history makes;\\nHath all the incidents a nation knows\\nAnd much the sordid soul its bliss mistakes.\\nThat hath no feeling for their joys and woes\\nSometimes in prosperous ways, then crushed by heavy\\nblows.\\nXVIII.\\nFor the last time with saddened thoughts I tread\\nThe chamber of the sick, the place of tears:\\nThere, under dispensations just but dread,\\nHath bowed the youthful form, the head of years:\\nThe wonted brightness from the eye hath passed\\nThe burning lip hath shown the bitter pain\\nThere Father, Mother, Sister, breathed their last;\\nAnd passed, to be no more on earth again\\nThrice was the arrow sped, and thrice our joys were slain.\\nXIX.\\nOh, Memory The child of faithful love\\nEnchantress of the soul That with thy wand,\\nThe very stone upon the grave canst move.\\nAnd make the dead before my fancy stand\\nThe living and the dead are present now\\nOnce more we meet and here once more we part\\nHe, who hath taken all, will yet allow,\\n(Old Time, with spreading wing and pointed dart,)\\nThis meeting of the soul, this homage of the heart.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0332.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "THE OLD HOUSE.\\n321\\nXX.\\nTime is indeed a robber. How he seizes\\nThe dear companions of our better years:\\nLike one that comes and takes whate er he pleases,\\nThe old, the young, regardless of our tears.\\nNow smites he down the hardy form of man;\\nNow doth the stem of childhood s beauty sever;\\nOne thing alone remains t is all that can\\nAll else he smites but that attacketh never\\nHe hath no power o er Love. Love flourisheth forever.\\nXXL\\nThus have I sung. Perchance t is my last song.\\nT is true, the faithful Muse hath been my friend.\\nBut will she still her pensive notes prolong?\\nAnd shall I bid her still my steps attend\\nI, who am all unworthy of her care\\nGray-headed now, and weary, growing old.\\nBut who hath gained by yielding to despair?\\nI ll wipe my tears, with half my story told,\\nAnd take my Pilgrim staff, now the Old House is sold.", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0333.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "ERRATA.\\nPage 20, line 15 from the top, for there read their.\\n61, line 3 from the bottom, for ceased read sealed.\\n92, line 11 from the top, for her read its.\\n31;\\n77", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0334.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0335.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0336.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0337.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0338.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0339.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "i\\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n015 863 786 8 ^J\\n\u00c2\u00bbSt {^i.nfURUSv ^fRnnn\u00c2\u00bb(t\u00c2\u00bb{Mi\u00c2\u00bb\u00c2\u00bbmm\u00c2\u00bbimEKU\u00c2\u00bb\u00c2\u00bb} :j", "height": "3501", "width": "1890", "jp2-path": "domesticreligiou00upha_0340.jp2"}}