Why leaps the streamlet down the mountain's side,
Hastening so blithely to the vale beneath,
To cheer the shepherd's thirsty flock, or glide
Where the bright sun has left a faded wreath,
Or, rippling, aid the music in the grove?
Its own glad voice replies, that-" God is love."
In heaven's starred pavement at the midnight hour,
In roseate hues that come at morning's dawn,
In the bright bow athwart the falling shower,
In woods and waters, hills and velvet lawn,—
One truth is written-all conspire to prove,
What grace of old revealed, that-" God is love."
Nor less this pulse of health, this step of joy,
This heart so moved with beauty, perfume, song,
This spirit soaring through a gorgeous sky,
Or diving ocean's coral caves among,
Fleeter than darting fish, or swiftest dove-
All, all declare the same, that-"God is love."
Is it a fallen world on which I gaze?
Am I as deeply fallen as the rest-
Yet, tasting joys above my utmost praise,
Instead of wandering forlorn, unblest?
It is as if an unseen spirit strove
To grave upon my heart, that—" God is love."
Yet, would'st thou see, my soul, this truth displayed In characters which wondering angels read,
And read adoring? Go, imploring aid
To look with faith, behold the Saviour bleed! That Saviour is the Lord! Oh! what can prove, If this convince thee not, that-" God is love! "
Cling to his cross!—and let thy ceaseless prayer Be that thy grasp may fail not; and ere long 'Twill bear thee upward to that temple where
No more the echo, but the song—the song! Of angels, saints, and seraphim above Proclaims for ever, that our "God is love!"
"I exhort, therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men ; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty."— 1 TIM. ii. 1, 2.
"SALVATION! oh, salvation!" cry-
On India's plains once sweetly sung
Britannia's bard; and many a tongue
Soon learnt to join the rapture high,
Till the loud echo filled the sky.
When in thine ear that music rings,
Christian, oft kneel thee down, and pray,
That the glad sound may win its way,
Borne upon high and heavenly wings,
Mid sceptres, palaces, and kings.
The sun, whose beams with blessings go
Through every clime his glory lights,
First gilds the lofty mountain heights;
And, melted there, the winter's snow
Streams through the brightening vales below.
Blest be our God! we may not say-
The lowliest flower in many a dale
Might rise against so dire a tale-
That nowhere do the waters play,
Until the mountain snows give way.
But witness Judah's rise and fall,
As Judah's kings God's altars stain,
Or fetch the Ark and rear the fane,
With trump, and song, and festival,-
How royal goodness blesses all!
Did not the great Jehovah say,
And grave with iron on the rock,
Lest fools who laugh at sin should mock,He would not turn the wrath away
Fired by Manasseh's godless sway?*
Doth not the same great voice attest,
That mercies shall be showered down,
Where piety adorns the crown :
The monarch happy, and at rest;
The people blessing him, and blest? +
When in thine ear the echo rings
Of threat or promise, lift the cry,
"Salvation! oh, Salvation!" fly,
Borne upon high and heavenly wings,
Mid sceptres, palaces, and kings!
* 2 Kings xxi. 11, 12; xxiii. 26, 27.
† 1 Kings ix. 4-6. 2 Chron. xxxi.
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