'Tis the Zion, oh, God! which thy arm Still embraces, for her hast thou set Most safe in thy love, deeply graved on thy palm, Secure from defilement, and terror, and harm, Her bulwarks before thee are yet. And thy oath!-'twas to Abraham given ! As the sands on the shore, as the leaves by winds driven, As the hosts that then studded the Syrian heaven, So his children uncounted should be! Like kings on their conquering car, They return! for their bondage is burst; "My sons shall be gathered, my daughters from far; To bear them where shines Jacob's beautiful Star, Lo, Tarshish with ships shall be first!" I see them! I see them! behold! Every stream, sea and ocean is white, Where their canvass points home, where their standard's broad fold Waves on to the East, as it waved once of old, I see them! how wondrous the crowd! From Ganges, from Humber, from Nile,— As doves to their windows, they fly as a cloud; How roll their hosannas! how lordly and loud Horn and timbrel give answer the while! Be lifted, ye gates! for 'tis HE Once led by the rabble to die, Once spit on, and thorn-crowned, and hung on a tree, Now worshipped, anointed, exalted to be A Prince and a Saviour on high. Who is He that of glory is king? Shout, thousands of Israel! ye worshippers, bring THE CROWN FOR THE NAZARENE WAITS! Then, Christian, reproaches and stain MISSIONS. SPIRIT OF MISSIONS! Spark of genuine flame! In God or man developed, still the same. The same, where'er Messiah's followers go,Lights of the world, -to scatter light below. The same, where rise the gorgeous temple's walls, And where on Heaven the forest suppliant calls. The same that bids the herald tempt the wave For burning India, her lost sons to save : Or prompts unnamed philanthropy to trace Through lanes and alleys, misery's dwelling place. The same, where'er benevolence is known,— Lingering in hovels, seated on the throne; Thee, Spirit! we discern, and hail thee now, Essence divine,- Religion's daughter, Thou! Ere in the void the firmament was hung, Creation's birth ere stars and seraphs sung, Thou hadst thy being. Thousand, thousand times Ten thousand harps had woke immortal chimes To thy sweet praises, and the song above To thee was rendered, known in heaven as Love. |