Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 37 1835.pdf/8



Let not those rays fade from me;—once enjoy'd,        Father of spirits! let them not depart! Leaving the chill'd earth, without form and void, Darken'd by mine own heart! Lift, aid, sustain me! Thou, by whom alone All lovely gifts and pure In the soul's grasp endure;— Thou, to the steps of whose eternal throne All knowledge flows—a sea for evermore Breaking its crested waves on that sole shore— O consecrate my life! that I may sing Of Thee with joy that hath a living spring In a full heart of music!—Let my lays Through the resounding mountains waft thy praise, And with that theme the wood's green cloisters fill, And make their quivering leafy dimness thrill To the rich breeze of song! O! let me wake The deep religion, which hath dwelt from yore, Silently brooding by lone cliff and lake, And wildest river shore! And let me summon all the voices dwelling Where eagles build, and cavern'd rills are welling, And where the cataract's organ-peal is swelling, In that one spirit gather'd to adore!

Forgive, O Father! if presumptuous thought Too daringly in aspiration rise! Let not thy child all vainly have been taught By weakness, and by wanderings, and by sighs Of sad confession!—lowly be my heart, And on its penitential altar spread The offerings worthless, till Thy grace impart The fire from heaven, whose touch alone can shed Life, radiance, virtue!—let that vital spark Pierce my whole being, wilder'd else and dark? Thine are all holy things—O make me Thine, So shall I too be pure—a living shrine Unto that spirit, which goes forth from Thee, Strong and divinely free, Bearing thy gifts of wisdom on its flight, And brooding o'er them with a dove-like wing, Till thought, word, song, to Thee in worship spring, Immortally endow'd for liberty and light.