A Medley.

By James Boyd.

And scurry,
See speeding along
Thoughtless the throng.
Mirth-mad they move with the dance and the song,
Stripling and grizzled pate, feeble and strong.

Loud as the tempest roar, wild as the wind;
Bickering, blustering, brainless, and blind;
Vacant the soul, and the heart, and the mind.
Vain is the quest on earth pleasure to find.

Restless as ocean's ebbing and flowing.
Where they are drifting to, none of them knowing.
Fogs of a moonless night fall on their going —
Cometh the reaping time — what are they sowing?

Silvery falls Folly's voice on the ear;
The voice of this preacher they readily hear;
Folly they follow, at Wisdom they jeer —
Why should they sober be? What should they fear?

Hurry them onward; they call you their friend;
Turn their thoughts far from life's sorrowful end;
A careless career, brief and brilliant, commend,
Heedless of how they eternity spend.

Golden moments throw away!
Death draws nearer every day:
Soon the narrow house of clay —
Give the present time to play.

What the mind may now suggest;
What the soul may love the best;
What the eyes which never rest
Covet, that pursue with zest.

Care and sorrow, want and woe —
This is all malapropos.
Let us feel of life the glow.
Harvest? Rubbish! Let us sow.

Fill the cup with sparkling wine,
Red as blood; let those repine
Who are doating; let them whine;
They won't number one in nine.

Let the days go swiftly by:
Who o'er water spilt will cry?
Man of course is born to die.
Do ye fear the ogre? Fie!

Give the present time to play:
Care leave for a future day.
While the sun shines make your hay.
Never mind what parsons say.

Serious folk may prate of sin.
If they only laugh who win,
Ye are loudest in the din —
Here's a world to rummage in.

Make of life the most you can.
Wherefore should a living man
Underneath death's bitter ban
Whining waste his little span?

In the world of pleasure mix.
Prayer of parson, priestly pix;
All is but a bag of tricks.
Death and Judgment? Fiddlesticks!

While the pulse is bounding high,
While the fire is in the eye,
While above is clear the sky,
Bid dull care a grand good-bye.

Grasp the moments as they flee;
Short and merry let them be;
What is here worth seeing see:
For the future what care ye?

Thoughtlessly thus are they speeding along
Down to the grave;
And of his passions is each in the throng
The veriest slave.
Frantic and wilful and wild is their flight,
Swift through the heart of the black and dark night,
Onward to death and destruction, despite
The grace that would save.

Bitter the bowl of eternal despair
They are now filling.
Buried in hell they shall drink of it there,
Unwilling or willing.
Then shall no creature their sorrows condole,
While the hot waves of wrath round them shall roll,
Fire of hell body and spirit and soul
Eternally killing.

And searching around.
And hoping
In darkness profound;
Scanning the heavens, and digging the ground —
What are they seeking for? What have they found?

Searching for truth, for the infinite Cause
Of systems responsive to unwritten laws,
Whose glory and greatness my feeble mind awes
The Being who framed them, who ere they were WAS.

God undiscovered; no heaven, no hell,
Seraph immaculate, Cherubim fell,
Sovereign, serf, cremaillere, or crenelle,
Banneret, banner, pennant, pennoncelle.

Nothing but regions of planets and stars,
Mountains in moons, and canals cut in Mars.
Are they at peace, or distracted by wars?
Ruled by the people, Shahs, Sultans, or Tsars?

Nothing alive in that region of blue,
Friend, or foe, high, or low, Gentile, or Jew.
Still as the grave is each planet we view.
Cannot you yet to your neighbour halloo?

How the creation man's wisdom derides!
Not in its systems the Father resides.
Not the material universe hides
Him who o'er suns, moons, and planets presides.

You must fancy this absurd.
Many such like things you've heard;
Yet you shall not be deterred
From your quest by hasty word.

Let the critic rave and rasp,
Facts you still must closer clasp;
Hold them till your latest gasp.
Hide your honey from the wasp.

Soon you'll tell to every ear
In the world, that all may hear;
Black and white, and far and near,
Things we all desire to hear.

When the first pulsation was
Of the worlds, the primal cause,
How they got those matchless laws;
Here desire for knowledge gnaws.

You can lead us back, before
Time began his travail sore;
Backward through creation's door
Till we stand upon its shore.

Who has framed those suns of flame?
Tell us from what source they came.
Should they jostle, who's to blame?
Where he dwells? and what his name?

Came this world of ours by chance,
And those glorious orbs which glance
From the heavens, as they advance
In their wondrous radiance?

Came they up within a night,
Just like Jonah's gourd, and bright,
Flung afar their living light,
Not to gladden creature sight.

For no creature formed was then,
Heavenly host, or earthly men,
Denizen of cave or den;
All the worlds were empty when

They went forth their paths to trace
In the shoreless sea of space,
Each in an appointed place,
In a solitary race.

But who formed each burning ball?
Bound each circuit with a wall?
Who commands each, great and small?
Who is Admiral of all?

This and more we need to know;
Whence they came and where they go;
Like the ocean's ebb and flow,
Like the passing winds that blow.

The atomic theory
Doggedly pursues its way;
See it clearer yet you may
In a future wiser day.

Atoms in the space immense,
Where they had their residence,
Back in primal ages dense,
Came together. Yes, but whence

Were the atoms? How came they?
Matter is eternal. Eh!
Heard I rightly what you say?
This is spiteful satire. Nay,

You believe the theory's just:
Particles of primal dust,
Blown about by zephyr's gust,
Soon or late, you fancy, must

Collide; and lo, before our eyes,
Flaming in the azure skies,
Worlds, whose number, distance, size,
Strikes us speechless with surprise.

But you are not all agreed;
Some for other theories plead.
Of this harvest does your creed
Say who sowed the primal seed?

You are so exceeding wise,
You can all our thoughts surprise.
On our poor benighted eyes
Bid the sun of science rise.

Make it shine on land, and sea,
Beast, and bird, and flower, and tree,
Sun, and planet, moth and me;
Tell us how we came to be.

Oh, you cannot lead us back
O'er creation's shining track,
Galaxy, or zodiac;
You can but surmise — alack!

How the thing was brought to pass
Ere the sand moved in the glass,
You are all at sea alas!
Must we stick in this morass?

Farther back you cannot stray —
Chaos, cosmos, night, and day,
Beams at length the milky way,
Land, and life, mollusca, scray,

Droning beetle, bat, and owl,
Air alive with feathered fowl,
Forests echo with the howl
Where wild creatures darkly prowl.

Orang, the scum, the dross, the dregs,
Of bad nature's vicious eggs,
From the sponge, or mollusk, begs
Head and tail and arms and legs.

On the trees they live and feed,
Chatter, squabble, gambol, breed,
Minus bell, or book, or creed,
Things they neither know nor need.

Man, the goal before them stands,
This to reach their zeal commands;
Hands are feet and feet are hands,
Beast, this fact the creature brands.

Yet another witness find,
Round that sturdy branch entwined,
Rooted in each rump behind,
Crying, Not of humankind.

Do you bid us cease our blatter,
Nor like our forefathers chatter;
You shall our misgivings scatter,
Such objections do not matter.

Tails no barriers are whatever,
Time will this appendix sever;
No one, be he dull or clever,
Fancies tails can last for ever.

Now our ears are wide agape.
What can wear and tear escape?
Use, abuse, scathe, scratch, and scrape,
Left at length — a tailless ape!

This appendage being dropt,
Hinder hands for feet are swopt;
Shorter the forelegs are cropt,
Upright posture to adopt.

Then at last erect they stand,
MAN, the world at their command,
Blest with power to understand
Secrets of this wonderland.

O, you mighty men of fame,
How you cover us with shame!
We, whose minds so weak and lame,
Kin with yours can never claim!

Everything you seem to know,
Great and small and high and low,
Where we came from, where we go —
Well, perhaps not all things, no;

But by kindly light bestowed
You can trace your curious road
Back to maggot, frog, or toad,
And, like Topsy, "'Spect you growed."

This your charming doxy is,
Drawn from azure dome or dis,
Making all us mortals quiz
Moses and his Genesis.

But, apart from all irony, is it not strange
That man should throw over
The Scripture of truth, and the universe range
That truth to discover.
O, how the proud mind of the flesh must recoil
From the knowledge of God, thus to struggle and toil
To hide, like the ostrich, his head in the soil
From that infinite Lover!

How sweet would thy lot be if thou wouldest fly
To the bosom of God!
He bids thee, as lost, for salvation rely
On the Saviour's blood.
No longer at truth in the gloom wouldst thou guess;
The God of thy life in the light thou wouldst bless,
And beams from the glory thy brow would caress
On thy heavenly road.

Oh, why wilt thou grace and salvation despise?
Oh, why wilt thou die?
The true light is radiant in Jesus. Be wise:
To the Lifegiver fly.
Dreamer, awake! awake! See, it is day!
The truth shines in Jesus: each lifegiving ray
Invites thee from death and from darkness away
To glory on high.

Electing, Rejecting,
For trifles and straws;
The laws;
Amid ruthless rejection, and roars of applause;
Wounding, and healing, and killing the cause.

Slackening, tightening, the government rein;
Disputing o'er measures which puzzle the brain;
The people to please, and their suffrage to gain.
Yet is there much of it labour in vain.

Men must be governed, but how will it pay?
Each has the franchise, and must have his way.
Displease him, and end at the Senate your stay.
He is your master, and you must obey.

Talk as you may you will certainly find
Anarchy not to your weaknesses blind;
Dynamite, dagger, and demon combined,
Terror in front of them, chaos behind.

Bid the wild waves of the ocean be still;
Tides make to ebb and to flow at your will;
Bid the stars in the heavens to dance a quadrille;
These your behest will make haste to fulfil

Ere those whom you govern — or what is more true,
The men who by ballot-box rule over you,
Will treat your enactments with reverence due,
If they can with safety your statutes undo.

Socialist, anarchist, labourist, all
Devil-oppressed, and held fast in his thrall,
With all the creation misled by the fall,
For Christ the almighty Deliverer call.

And the time draws near
When that call He shall hear
And the heavens their gates wide fling,
And in regal state
And majesty great,
    All eyes shall behold the King;
When clothed with might
In armour dight
    His armies marshalling,
The blue He shall rend,
And with clouds descend,
    And with praise the vault shall ring.
The heralds shall call
To the nations all:
    Bow low, bow low the knee!
Confess Him Lord
With one accord,
    And hark to the high decree: —
Thou art my Son, Mine only One,
I have begotten Thee.

Then the earth shall reel,
And the proud shall feel,
    In the day of their sore distress,
Through their hearts the steel,
When compelled to kneel,
    And Him Lord of all confess.
And the populace
Shall find no place
    For their pervicaciousness
For an iron rod,
In the might of God,
    Shall all lawlessness suppress.
Until that date
Must the ship of state
    Go adrift and rudderless.

Yes, till then the ruling power
Must grow weaker every hour;
Darker must the future lower
Kings before their subjects cower.

Frame the laws as best you may,
Lawlessness must bear the sway.
Shall the savage beasts of prey
Reverence what you may say?

In the future, near at hand,
I behold a rebel band
Spreading wide throughout the land,
All your power to withstand.

Communism lifts her arm,
Gleams the dagger, Sound alarm!
Voice of mortal cannot charm —
Flows the lifeblood red and warm!

England, land of Bible-boast,
God hath smiled upon thy coast;
But I see a demon host
Struggling to be uppermost;

And I see thy rulers cower,
Like the heath in tempest hour
Bent before the blinding shower,
Pander to their lust for power.

Rulers timid, nervous, weak,
Bow before the rebel clique,
Pat the felon on the cheek,
Though his hands with murder reek;

From the mob disloyal take
Men thy country's laws to make.
Some day startled you shall wake,
Terror-stricken you shall shake.

Once you honoured Jesus' name;
From the Scriptures sought to frame
Laws which lifted you to fame —
You have spurned Him to your shame.

Cast the faded Book aside
That the infidel may slide —
Pity he should be denied —
Into power, and help to guide,

Without trampling on his pride,
That the ship of State may glide
Safe through wind and whelming tide
Where the rock and reef may hide.

Jesus, once by man reviled,
Would have stilled the waters wild,
Cleansed the earth by sin defiled,
Slain the serpent who beguiled.

Man the Son of God denied,
"Crucify Him!" loudly cried.
Pierced His hands and feet and side —
Thus the world's Redeemer died.

Therefore peace her wings has spread,
And afar from earth has fled,
Leaving sorrow, fear, and dread,
Living mourning over dead.

But you cannot mend this now,
You must manage anyhow;
Thrones shall totter, princes bow,
Ere the man with brazen brow

Whom you long for shall appear;
He of whom you soon shall hear;
He whom all the world shall fear,
And shall worship serve, revere.

No, I do not mean the Christ;
He whose soul was sacrificed,
Work which for our sins sufficed —
Offering infinite, unpriced!

Antichrist: you've heard the name.
He the populace shall tame;
He shall be a fiery flame,
You the wood to feed the same.

As you would not have the True,
He, the false, shall govern you.
Till he comes your course pursue,
Struggle, juggle, blunder through.

Hope there is none until Jesus appears
In His glory again;
Till He in His infinite might interferes
Man's will to restrain.
For peace and security kingdoms may yearn,
But God shall the thrones of the world overturn.
Till He shall come forth whom the nations did spurn,
But whose right 'tis to reign.
Then shall the destroyers of earth be destroyed,
And the proud and profane,
The lawless, the rebel, of wisdom devoid,
Be ruthlessly slain.
But all who have stood for a crucified Lord,
True to His name and confessing His word,
When His foes are subdued and His rights are restored,
In His kingdom shall reign.

Loudly all
Proudly all —
Boasting their shame;
And jangling
And battling for fame;
To be surely "The people" each making a claim:
Mad Babel-builders, all building a name.

Striving by platform and pulpit and pen
To smother the truth with traditions of men.
Disgraceful confusion confounded! Oh, when
Shall all be found speaking the same things again?

Never! The Spirit, so graciously given,
Is quenched, and God's house with fierce factions is riven,
And fallen, like Lucifer, headlong from heaven,
And guilty of sins which can not be forgiven.

For ravenous wolves have invaded the stock,
And have wounded and mangled and scattered the flock;
And men have arisen, perverse in their talk,
The sheep under creeds and commandments to lock.

Like a ware of the city God's pardon is sold
To the ignorant soul in exchange for his gold;
And each hireling has got his own flock and his fold,
And above them the flag of his party unrolled.

And a trade in men's souls far outrivalling all
Slave traffic, which still must our fancy appal;
And more than the victims of strong alcohol
Are the minds which are meshed in this horrible thrall.

Works, works for salvation, yet works never done,
The Saviour rejected, whose sacrifice won
Mercy for laity, priest, monk, and nun,
And every poor sinful soul under the sun.

The mother of harlots sits holding her breath,
Jealously watching the protestant faith;
Hot is the heart in her bosom beneath,
Vomiting brimstone fire loaded with death.

Once at her bidding her minions did march
Bearing through Europe the fire-flaming torch,
Destined, she ardently trusted, to scorch
The seeds of all heresy out of the church.

But in spite of her dungeons, her racks, her fires,
Her curses, like thickets of brambles and briars;
And in spite of the honour to which she aspires,
Defeat has beset her most fervent desires.

Yet this is no reason why she should repine,
Her power may be broken, but why should she whine?
Toward her the churches most surely incline.
And soon with her creed they may come into line.

Dark was the day
When she had the sway,
    And what is the prospect ahead,
With the Saviour disowned,
And man's reason enthroned,
    And the minds of the people misled?

Yet they hold to the name,
And an interest they claim
    In Jesus, Redeemer and Guide,
Though they wholly deny
The true reason why
    He came to earth, suffered, and died.

A sacrifice? No.
A Leader? That's so:
    As Shakespeare and Socrates were,
Priest, poet, or lama,
    As saviours all such have a share.

This is Christendom to-day.
How the thing has gone astray
Wandering from the perfect way.
Rectify it no one may.

You must let it all alone,
In it God has got His own
Who its evil state bemoan,
Oer its ruin cry and groan.

You go on as you've begun,
Light divine be sure to shun,
Human wisdom is your sun,
Scripture — well — its day is done.

Build you colleges and schools,
Train your priests in creeds and rules,
Make philosophers of fools —
Your instructors, Satan's tools.

Never dream they ought to know
God in Christ revealed below;
He whose blood shed for our woe
Makes us whiter than the snow.

If he be but eloquent,
Whether God or man hath sent;
If his flock be but intent
Mercy surely shall be lent.

Do not preach eternal hell;
It is not polite to dwell
On such subjects. Who can tell
It shall not with all be well?

Let eternal punishment
Be from your orations rent;
Smooth things prophesy: invent
Words less vulgar than repent.

If atonement do not please,
With old doctrines do not tease;
On a favourite topic seize,
This will set them at their ease.

Bibles scatter freely round,
In the best of leather bound;
Yet the Word is so profound,
Tell them you must it expound.

Give to temperance its due;
This of course won't fetter you;
Yours to teach, and theirs to do:
Bind on burdens — conscience?     Pooh!

Men to church must be enticed,
So have vestments costly priced,
Windows artfully deviced,
Teach men everything but Christ.

Sect with sect for splendour vie,
Build your temples grand and high,
Spires to penetrate the sky,
Bells our brains to horrify.

Organ inside, white robed choir,
Holy water, sacred fire,
Genuflections, priest and prior,
Posture, and imposture dire.

Grasp your scruples by the helves,
Fling them by upon the shelves.
Fools your hearers: fools yourselves:
Supersanctimonious elves.

What has conscience got to do
With it?     Men have souls!     Pooh!     Pooh!
Mysteries in mists pursue:
Clouds of incense cover you.

Then to keep your parish pure,
Fix confession seasons sure.
You the cesspools to allure
The contents of every sewer.

Worship! That is but a name.
Music makes the savage tame.
At the passions darkly aim,
Mistify, bewilder. Shame!

Let who likes it cry the word,
Act as though you had not heard;
Do not let your peace be stirred.
Meddlers always are absurd.

"We will sing and we will pray
With the understanding; yea,
With the Spirit also," say
Those who first were on the way.

But the world has progress made,
And the church were in the shade
Were her worship not arrayed
In bewildering parade.

How could the apostle know
What the world was coming to?
"Upper rooms" were long ago
Good enough, but now not so.

Let your pews, or auction them;
You have right a price to name,
Business men do much the same,
None can criticise or blame.

For yourselves build mansions great,
Filled with gold and silver plate;
Give your hearers learned prate,
Not of wide and narrow gate.

And as money must be found,
You can send the hat around;
Should the Devil give a pound,
Just you see the money's sound.

Abraham from Sodom's king
Swore not to have anything;
But you cannot from you fling
What the world to you may bring.

Such a man as Peter may,
Scorning, "Filthy lucre," say:
Would it do this moment?   Nay:
Things have changed since Peter's day.

Shake the diamond-studded hand,
Keep your smile, so sweet and bland,
For the wealthy, great, and grand,
Who can gold galore command.

Nothing's got to-day without it,
Let whoever pleases doubt it;
Act as caring nought about it;
In your soul you do not scout it.

Crowd behind the temple's door
All the miserable poor,
Who with neither wealth nor lore,
Come the Saviour to adore.

James the Lord's apostle might
Chide, in days gone by, the slight
Offered to the poor, and right,
But those days have altered quite.

Wonderous things to-day you'll find;
You must not be bigot-blind,
Else you're sure to drop behind:
Cultivate a larger mind.

Buddhism is gaining ground.
Well, the creed is not unsound.
Speculations take all round,
Good in every one is found.

No one has got all the truth,
And the world is yet in youth.
Cambridge, Oxford, and Maynooth;
Breed progressionists, forsooth!

Bind together all the sects:
This enlightened age expects
Love to cover up defects
Which the critic mind detects.

If your thoughts do not agree
With the Scriptures, what care ye?
Christ or Buddha?   Bigotry!
Keep your mind from fetters free.

One religion for to-day;
For the world one common way;
Call the creed what name you may.
Most will vote Theosophy.

Each may keep his private views,
Musselmans, Agnostics, Jews,
Christians, Parsees, what they choose;
Why should I your creed abuse?

Take what may be good in each,
What your mind may fancy preach;
Make through musty forms a breach,
Though the Bible-bigot screech.

Souls may transmigrate — a rush
For the man who thunders, hush!
Dubs you demon, bids you blush,
You a Christian parson — Tush!

You have ranged upon your side
All the world; the flowing tide
Bears your gallant bark in pride
Hellward, or Saint Paul has lied.

Thus till the Morning Star sendeth His ray
Through the dark cloud,
Calling the few who are faithful away
From the false and the proud,
Still shall this chaos, to Babel akin;
This horrible clamour, contention, and din,
Continue in that which has cherished within,
Apostates avowed.

To the name of the Christ they still stubbornly cling,
But His Lordship disown;
To the winds His authority wilful they fling,
No Lord have they known.
The trespass of Adam repeated to-day,
Deity grasped at, the creature would lay
In the dust God's authority, government, sway,
His Christ and His throne.

O come, Thou long waited for One, who shall bring
Safe, safe to Thy home,
Thy saints who to infinite favour still cling,
As this desert they roam.
From this empty profession, so false to Thy name,
So brazenly boasting their sin and their shame,
Thy faithful call home, Thy blood-redeemed claim.
Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Threading their way,
Through dangers
As strangers,
As sons of the day.
Not for the universe would they delay.
Bid them abide with you, what will they say?

Seek we a home with our Saviour on high,
In regions both pure and immortal, which lie
From everything hidden but Faith's piercing eye,
Where sin and its miseries never come nigh.

Where never vile creature can hurt or annoy,
Nor serpent that Paradise quiet destroy,
Nor note of woe jar with the music of joy,
But all shall their powers for ever employ

In the praises of Him who came down to atone
By His death on the cross for the sins of His own,
And to drink that dread chalice, abandoned, alone,
To give us a place with Himself on His throne.

So we turn not to rest in this valley of death;
Its vapours are chilling, they stifle the breath.
Our home is on high, your home is beneath;
You walk by sight only, we only by faith.

So we stay not with you where the thistles and thorn
Have grown since the earth of its beauty was shorn
By sin, but the place which Christ's glories adorn
Is ours, and this world's brightest beauties we scorn.

O, dearer to us is the Christ we adore
Than the wealth of the world to the miser, and more
To our hearts is the knowledge of God than the store
Of fallen creation's fallacious lore.

Dearer than brethren, or parent, or friend,
    Husband, or wife,
    Riches, or life.
    And through sorrow and strife
Cleave we to Him who loves right to the end.
    And where scorpions sting,
    And beasts of prey spring
    From their dread covering,
    While their terrors enring
    The darkness, we sing
As onward our heavenly journey we wend —

Praise we Him who loveth us,
    And hath washed us in His blood;
Brought us to His Father thus,
    Made us kings and priests to God.

Love of God to us made known
    When the night we wandered in;
Clouds of blackness round us thrown,
    Shadows of committed sin.

Love as boundless as the heart
    Of the One who gave us breath;
Love that met the flaming dart
    Venomed by the sting of death,

Aimed by justice at our souls,
    When almighty judgments were
Scattered like devouring coals,
    Burning coals of juniper.

Love which bore the dreadful load
    Of the guilt which on us pressed,
When the holiness of God
    Judging sin was manifest.

That unfathomable love
    Which, to bring us to its home,
Came from courts of light above
    Down to lie within the tomb;

Judgment infinite did feel,
    Which upon us would have burst;
Felt in death upon His heel
    Bruising of the serpent curst;

Spoke to us of peace with God,
    Showed His wounded hands and side;
Shed within our hearts abroad
    Love where once were lust and pride.

See the Saviour on the throne
    Of the Father now, but He
Soon shall come to claim His own
    In almighty power, and we

From the grave and desert shall
    Rise to meet Him in the air,
Changed into His likeness all,
    His eternal throne to share.

Sovereign love it was that sent
    Jesus to deliver us;
Sovereign love it was that rent
    Clouds of blackness viperous;

Sovereign love that keeps our feet
    In the narrow way to heaven;
Sovereign love that did repeat
    Once for all the word FORGIVEN;

Sovereign love made known in Christ:
    Who can tell its depth or height?
Sovereign love, whose light unpriced
    Turned our darkness into light.

Sovereign love we soon shall hear
    Calling us from earth away;
When the Saviour shall appear
    We shall sing in cloudless day —

Unto Him who loveth us,
    And hath washed us in His blood,
Brought us to His Father thus,
    Made us kings and priests to God:

Glory and dominion be
    Unto Him whom we adore,
Through a blest eternity,
    Until time shall be no more.

Thus in this valley of sorrow they sing,
Hastening on.
By His bright glory, to whom they still cling,
Powerfully drawn.
Bright is their future, eternal their day,
Pregnant with joys which shall never decay;
Still frowns the night, but it soon will away,
Cometh the dawn.

The midnight is past, the bright Star of the Morn
Soon shall appear;
Soon the last briar, soon the last thorn,
Soon the last tear.
Heavenly Lover, come quickly! O come!
No longer Thy blood-bought this desert would roam:
The soul-stirring shout that shall gather them home
They are waiting to hear.