THE BRIGHTER AGE.

PART II.

How groans creation, racked with pains and fears!

And, Oh! how true, that earth 's a vale of tears!
None can elude its misery and care:

The poor, the rich, the great, the lowly share
Sorrows and griefs, anxieties and woe,

That o'er us all a sable mantle throw.

And is there nought the gloomy scene to gild; To soothe the heart, with poignant sorrow filled, To calm the anxious soul-to chase its fears; With rain-bow beauties span the vale of tears? Hark! from the cross, is heard the calm reply; Peace to the soul on Earth-rest in Eternity.

That cross I sing; that tree all stained with gore;

There at its foot I'll weep, and there adore:

Weep, for the sin that gave the Saviour pain;

Adore "the Lamb, that lives-but once was slain."

Others of martial deeds and arms may sing;

The hero praise, and many a poesy bring,

To deck the warrior's bier, or crown his head;

To swell his fame, if living, or if dead :

Be mine the task, an humble lay to breathe,

And round the hallowed cross the chaplet wreathe.

There, on my darkened mind first dawned the light;

There, when despair enrobed the soul in night,
Mercy's sweet ray my longing vision blessed;

Revealing hope, in seraph beauty dressed.

Whate'er I sing, whene'er I touch the lyre Oh let this sacred theme the heart inspire!

If not too mean, the numbers shall belong

To that dear name breathed in the angels' song.

From the blessed cross, inviting mercy sounds,

“Ho! here's a balm for all your bleeding wounds!" If conscience thunder, or if grief distress;

If fear disturb, or anxious doubts oppress;

Here round this hallowed tree, doth pardon dwell,
To calm the conscience-gloomy fear dispel;

To chase the darkness, pour upon the eye,

The hope that comes from th' Incarnate mystery.
Here doth the "Sun of Righteousness arise;"

Here, "the day dawns the day star" greets the eyes.

Around this cross the universe shall bend, And mingling praises from all lips ascend: Beneath its peaceful banner waving high, Tribes of all colours, of all countries fly;

Till Earth redeemed-till Heaven to man restored,

God shall be known to all, by all adored.

The cares and sorrows that afflict our race,

Back to their origin we may retrace;

May mark the limit, where sweet innocence

Flees from the earth, and guilty deeds commence.

Oh! fatal Fruit, clustering in beauty rare,

That lured the hand of sinless Eve, to dare

Touch thee, forbidden! Oh! the fatal hour,
When man was left to fall, by hellish power!

But why should one, who sings of brighter days, Pause in his path, to strike such mournful lays? Let him, exulting, hail that blissful morn,

When moral beauty shall the world adorn;

When hell no more shall reign, nor sin be known,

All tears be dried, all misery be flown.

Look o'er the earth and mark th' o'erwhelming crowd;

A living ocean, restless, murmuring, loud!

Millions on millions struggling in the chase,

Ambitious, envious, avaricious race!

See some exulting, some in deep despair,

Elate with hope, or bowed with anxious care;

Revelling in pleasure, racked with torturing pain;
Victorious crowned, or gasping on the plain;
Wearing the nuptial wreath, or winding sheet;
Tripping the dance, or chained by gouty feet;
Driving the traffic, poring o'er the page;
In youth all life, or tottering in old age;
Ploughing the ocean; thundering in debate;

Sharing domestic bliss, or cares of state;

Reckless in sin, or penitent in prayer;

Travelling to Heaven, or training for despair;

Oh! what a world of paradoxes rare!