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When on one side the grape-juice is dancing,

And on t'other a blue eye beams, boy, beams, "T is enough, t'wixt the wine and the glancing,

To disturb even a saint from his dreams. Though this life like a river is flowing,

I care not how fast it goes on, boy, on, While the grape on its bank still is growing,

And such eyes light the waves as they run.

NE'ER TALK OF WISDOM'S GLOOM)

SCHOOLS.

Mahratta Air.
Ne'er talk of Wisdom's gloomy schools ;

Give me the sage who 's able
To draw his moral thoughts and rules

From the sunshine of the table ;-
Who learns how lightly, fleetly pass

This world and all that's in it, From the bumper that but crowns his glass,

And is gone again next minute. The diamond sleeps within the mine,

The pearl beneath the water,-
While Truth, more precious, dwells in wine,

The grape's own rosy daughter!
And none can prize her charms like him,

Oh! none like him obtain her,
Who thus can, like Leander, swim

Through sparkling floods to gain her!

WHERE SHALL WE BURY OUR

SHAME?

Neapolitan Air. WHERE shall we bury our shame?

Where, in what desolate place, Hide the last wreck of a name

Broken and stain'd by disgrace? Death may dissever the chain,

Oppression will cease when we're gone : But the dishonour, the stain,

Die as we may, will live on

Was it for this we sent out

Liberty's cry from our shore ? Was it for this that her shout

Thrill'd to the world's very core ? Thus to live cowards and slaves,

Oh! ye free hearts that lie dead! Do you not, e'en in your graves,

Sbudder, as o'er you we tread?

HERE SLEEPS THE BARD!

Highland Air. HERE sleeps the Bard who knew so well All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell, Whether its music roll'd like torrents near, Or died, like distant streamlets, on the ear! Sleep, mute Bard! unheeded now, The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow; That storm,

whose rush is like thy martial lay; That breeze which, like thy love

song, dics away

SACRED SONGS.

TO THE REV. THOMAS PARKINSON, D. D.

ARCHDEACON OF LEICESTER, CHANCELLOR OF CHESTER, AND RECTOR OF KEGWORTH

This Number of “ Sacred Songs" is Xnscribed,

BY HIS OBLIGED AND FAITHFUL FRIEND,

Sloperlon Cottage, Devizes, May 22, 1824.

THOMAS MOORE

No. I.

The smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-

There's nothing true but heaven!
THOU ART, OH GOD!

And false the light on Glory's plume,
Air-UNKNOWN.'

As fading hues of Even;

And Love, and Hope, and Beauty's bloom "The day is thine; the night also is thine: thou hast

pro- Are blossoms gather'd for the tomb,— pared the light and the sun. “ Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast

There's nothing bright but heaven! made summer and winter."- Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17.

Poor wanderers of a stormy day,

From wave to wave we're driven,
Thou art, oh God! the life and light

And fancy's flash, and Reason's ray,
Of all this wondrous world we see ;

Serve but to light the troubled way-
Its glow by day, its smile by night,

There 's nothing calm but heaven!
Are but reflections caught from thee.
Where'er we turn thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine!

FALLEN IS THY THRONE.
When Day, with farewell beam, delays

Air-MARTINI.
Among the opening clouds of Even,

FALLEN is thy throne, oh Israel !
And we can almost think we gaze

Silence is o'er thy plains;
Through golden vistas into heaven-

Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Those hues, that make the sun's decline

Thy children weep in chains. So soft, so radiant, Lord! are Thine.

Where are the dews that fed thee
When Night, with wings of starry gloom,

On Etham's barren shore ?
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,

That fire from heaven which led thee,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume

Now lights thy path no more.
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes

Lord ! thou didst love Jerusalem-
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,

Once she was all thy own; So grand, so countless, Lord ! are Thine.

Her love thy fairest heritage,'
When youthful Spring around us breathes,

Her power thy glory's throne :'
Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh;

Till evil came, and blighted
And every flower the Summer wreathes

Thy long-loved olive-tree;'
Is born beneath that kindling eye.

And Salem's shrines were lighted
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,

For other Gods than Thee ! And all things fair and bright are Thine !

Then sunk the star of Solyma

Then pass'd her glory's day,

Like heath that, in the wilderness, THIS WORLD IS ALL A FLEETING SHOW. The wild wind whirls away.

Air-STEVENSON. 1

1 "I have left mine heritage; I have given the dearly-beThis world is all a fleeting show,

loved of my soul into the hands of her enemies."-Jeremiah For man's illusion given ;

xii. 7.
2 "Do not disgrace the throne of thy glory."-Jer. xiv. 21.

3 « The Lord called thy name a green olive-tree; fair 1 I have heard that this air is by the late Mrs. Sheridan. and of goodly fruit," etc.- Jer. xi. 16. It is sung to the beautiful old words, “I do confess thou'rt 4 “For he shall be like the heath in the desert." -Jer mooth and fair."

xvii. 6.

Silent and waste her bowers,

Where once the mighty trod, And sunk those guilty towers,

While Baal reign'd as God! “Go,"—said the Lord—“Ye conquerors !

Steep in her blood your swords, And rase to earth her battlements,'

For they are not the Lord's ! Till Zion's mournful daughter

O’er kindred bones shall tread, And Hinnom's vale of slaughter?

Shall hide but half her dead!"

Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies

Where idle warblers roam.
But high she shoots through air and light,

Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,

Nor shadow dims her way.
So grant me, God! from every care

And stain of passion free,
Aloft, through Virtue's purer air,

To hold my course to Thee !
No sin to cloudno lure to stay

My Soul, as home she springs ;-
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,

Thy freedom in her wings !

OH! THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURN.

ER'S TEAR!
Air-HAYDN.

“He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up theit wounds."-Psalm cxlvii. 3.

WHO IS THE MAID?
ST. JEROME'S LOVE.3

Air-BEETHOVEN.
Who is the maid my spirit seeks,

Through cold reproof and slander's blight ? Has she Love's roses on her cheeks?

Is her's an eye of this world's light? No,-wan and sunk with midnight prayer

Are the pale looks of her I love; Or if, at times, a light be there,

Its beam is kindled from above. I chore not her, my soul's elect,

From those who seek their Maker's shrine In gems and garlands proudly deck'd,

As if themselves were things divine ! No-Heaven but faintly warms the breast

That beats beneath a broider'd veil; And she who comes in glittering vest

To mourn her frailty, still is frail. Not so the faded form I prize

And love, because its bloom is gone ;
The glory in those sainted eyes

Is all the grace her brow puts on.
And ne'er was Beauty's dawn so bright,

So touching as that form's decay,
Which, like the altar's trembling light,

In holy lustre wastes away!

OH! Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear,

How dark this world would be,
If, when deceived and wounded here,

We could not fly to Thee.
The friends who in our sunshine live,

When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,

Must weep those tears alone.
But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,

Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,

Breathes sweetness out of woe.
When joy no longer soothes or cheers,

And even the hope that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,

Is dimm'd and vanish'd too!
Oh! who would bear life's stormy doom,

Did not thy wing of love
Come, brightly wafting through the gloom

Our peace-branch from above ?
Then sorrow, touch'd by Thee, grows bright

With more than rapture's ray;
As darkness shows us worlds of light

We never saw by day!

THE BIRD, LET LOOSE.

Air-BEETHOVEN. The bird, let loose in eastern skies,

When hastening fondly home,

1 "Take away her battlements; for they are not the

WEEP NOT FOR THOSE. Lord's." - Jer. v. 10. 2 " Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that

Air-Avison. it shall no more be cailed Tophet, nor the Valley of the Son Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, of Hinnom, but the Valley of Slaughter; for they shall bury in Tophet till there be no place."-- Jer. vii. 32.

In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes, 3 These lines were suggested by a passage in St. Jerome's Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom, reply to some calumnious remarks that had been circulated

Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies upon his intimacy with the matron Paula :--"Numquid me vestes sericæ, nitentes gemmp, picta facies, aut auri rapuit Death chill'd the fair fountain ere sorrow had stain'dit, ambitio ? Nulla fuit alia Romæ matronarum, quæ meam 'T was frozen in all the pure light of its course, possit edomare mentem, nisi lugens atque jejunans, fletu And but sleeps till the sunshine of heaven has uspene cæcata."-- Epist. Si tibi putem.'

4 Ου γαρ χρυσοφορειντην δακρυουσαν δει.-Chrysost. chain'd it, Homil. 8. in Epist. ad Tim.

To water that Eden where first was its source ! 5 The carrier-pigeon, it is well known, flies at an elevated pitch, in order to surmount every obstacle between her and Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, the place to which she is destined.

In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes,

Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.

SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.

MIRIAM'S SONG.
Mourn not for her, the young Bride of the Vale,'
Our gayest and loveliest, lost to us now,

Air-Avison.'
Ere life's early lustre had time to grow pale,

And the garland of love was yet fresh on her brow! “And Miriam, the Prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a Oh! then was her moment, dear spirit, for flying timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her From this gloomy world, while its gloom was un- with timbrels and with dances."— Exod. xv. 20.

knownAnd the wild hymns she warbled so sweetly, in dying, Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!

Were echoed in heaven by lips like her own! Jehovah has triumph'd-his people are free. Weep not for her,-in her spring-time she flew Sing—for the pride of the tyrant is broken, To that land where the wings of the soul are un- His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and bravefurl'd,

How vain was their boasting !—The Lord hath but And now, like a star beyond evening's cold dew,

spoken, Looks radiantly down on the tears of this world. And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave.

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!

Jehovah has triumph’d,-his people are free. THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord ! SHRINE.

His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword !-

Who shall return to tell Egypt the story
Air-STEVENSON.

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride ? The turf shall be my fragrant shrine;

For the Lord hath look'd out from his pillar of glory, a My temple, Lord! that Arch of thine ;

And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide My censer's breath the mountain airs,

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea !
And silent thoughts my only prayers.? Jehovah has triumph'd,—his people are free.
My choir shall be the moonlight waves,
When murmuring homeward to their caves,
Or when the stillness of the sea,
Even more than music, breathes of Thee!

GO, LET ME WEEP!

Air-STEVENSON. I'll seek, by day, some glade unknown,

Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, All light and silence, like thy throne !

When he who sheds them inly feels And the pale stars shall be, at night,

Some lingering stain of early years The only eyes that watch my rite.

Effaced by every drop that steals. Thy heaven, on which 't is bliss to look,

The fruitless showers of worldly woe Shall be my pure and shining book,

Fall dark to earth, and never rise; Where I shall read, in words of flame,

While tears that from repentance flow, The glories of thy wondrous name.

In bright exhalement reach the skies.

Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears, I'll read thy anger in the rack

When he who sheds them inly feels That clouds awhile the day-beam's track;

Some lingering stain of early years
Thy mercy in the azure hue

Effaced by every drop that steals.
Of sunny brightness breaking through!
There's nothing bright, above, below,

Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew

More idly than the summer's wind, From flowers that bloom to stars that glow,

And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw, But in its light my soul can see

But left no trace of sweets behind. Some feature of the Deity!

The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves There's nothing dark, below, above,

Is cold, is faint to those that swell But in its gloom I trace thy love,

The heart where pure repentance grieves And meekly wait that moment when

O'er hours of pleasure loved too well! Thy touch shall turn all bright again!

Leave me to sigh o'er days that flew

More idly than the summer's wind,

And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw, 1 This second verse, which I wrote long after the first,

But left no trace of sweets behind. alludes to the fate of a very lovely and amiable girl, the daughter of the late Colonel Bainbrigge, who was married 10 Ashbourne church, October 31, 1815, and died of a fever in a few weeks after: the sound of her marriage-bells seem- 1 I have so altered the character of this air, which is ed scarcely out of our ears when we heard of her death. from the beginning of one of Avison's old-fashioned conDuring her last delirium she sung several hymns, in a voice certos, that, without this acknowledgment, it could hardly even clearer and sweeter than usual, and among them were I think, be recognised. some from the present collection (particularly, “There's 2“ And it came to pass, that, in the morning-walch, the nothing bright but Heaven,") which this very interesting Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians, through the girl had often heard during the summer.

pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of tho 2 Pii orunt tacite.

Egyptians."- Exod. xiv. 24.

As still to the star of its worship, though clouded, COME NOT, OH LORD!

The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea, Air-Haydn.

So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded, Come not, oh Lord! in the dread robe of splendour

The hope of my spirit turns trembling to thee, Thou worest on the Mount, in the day of thine ire;

My God! trembling to theeCome veil'd in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender,

True, fond, trembling, to thee : Which Mercy flings over thy features of fire !

So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded.

The hope of my spirit turns trembling to thee! Lord! thou rememberest the night, when thy nation'

Stood fronting her foe by the red-rolling stream; On Egypt” thy pillar frown'd dark desolation,

BUT WHO SHALL SEE.
While Israel bask'd all the night in its beam.

Air-STEVENSON.
So, when the dread clouds of anger enfold thee, But who shall see the glorious day;
From us, in thy mercy,
the dark side remove;

When, throned on Zion's brow,
While shrouded in terrors the guilty behold thee,

The Lord shall rend that veil away
Oh! turn upon us the mild light of thy Love!

Which bides the nations now!!
When earth no more beneath the fear

Of his rebuke shall lie ;?
WERE NOT THE SINFUL MARY'S TEARS.

When pain shall cease, and every tear

Be wiped from every eye !3
Air-STEVENSON.
WERE not the sinful Mary's tears

Then, Judah! thou no more shalt mourn
An offering worthy heaven,

Beneath the heathen's chain;
When o'er the faults of former years

Thy days of splendour shall return,
She wept—and was forgiven ?-

And all be new again.*

The Fount of Life shall then be quaff"d
When, bringing every balmy sweet

In peace, by all who come!
Her day of luxury stored,

And every wind that blows shall waft
She o'er her Saviour's hallow'd feet

Some long-lost exile home!
The precious perfumes pour'd ;-
And wiped them with that golden hair,
Where once the diamond shone,

ALMIGHTY GOD!
Though now those gems of grief were there

CHORUS OF PRIESTS.
Which shine for God alone!

Air-Mozart.
Were not those sweets so humbly shed,

ALMIGHTY God! when round thy shrine
That hair-those weeping eyes,-

The palm-tree's heavenly branch we twine, And the sunk heart, that inly bled,

(Emblem of Life's eternal ray, Heayen's noblest sacrifice ?

And Love that "fadeth not away,")

We bless the flowers, expanded all,'
Thou that hast slept in error's sleep,

We bless the leaves that never fall,
Oh wouldst thou wake in heaven,

And trembling say, “ In Eden thus
Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep,

The Tree of Life may flower lo, us!" “Love much"3—and be forgiven !

When round thy cherubs, smiling calm

Without their flames,' we wreath the palm, AS DOWN IN THE SUNLESS RETREATS.

1 “And he will destroy in this mountain the face of the Air-HAYDN.

covering cast over all people, and the veil that is spread

over all nations," - Isaiah xxv. 7. As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean,

2 " The rebuke of his people shall he take away from off

all the earth.”—Isaiah xxv. 8. Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, 3 " And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes , So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion, neither shall there be any more pain."-Rev. xxi. 4. Unheard by the world, rises silent to thee,

4." And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make

all things new."- Rev. xxi. 5. My God! silent to thee

5 “And whosoever will, let him take the water of life Pure, warm, silent, to thee :

freely."-- Rev. xxii. 17. So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,

6 "The Scriptures having declared that the Temple of

Jerusalem was a type of the Messiah, it is natural to conUnheard by the world, rises silent to thee! clude that the Palms, which made so conspicuous a higure

in that structure, represented that Life and Immortality 1 "And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and which were brought to light by the Gospel."-Observations the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to on the Palm, as a sacred Emblem, by W. Tigbe. them, but it gave light by night to these."- Exod. xiv. 20. 7 " And he carved all the walls of the house round about My application of this passage is borrowed from some late with carved figures of cherubims, and palm-trees, and open prose writer, whose name I am ungrateful enough to forget. florers."-1 Kings vi. 29.

2 Instead of“ On Egypt” here, it will suit the music bel- 8 “When the passover of the tabernacles was revealed to ter to sing "On these;" and in the third line of the next the great law-giver in the mount, then the cherubic images verse, "While shrouded” may, with the samo view, be al which appeared in that structure were no longer surrounded tered to " While wrapp'd."

by flames; for the tabernacle was a type of the dispensation 3" Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved of mercy, by which Jehovah confirmed his gracious corn much."-St. Luke vii. 47.

nant to redeem mankind."--Observations on the Palm

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