Page:Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands.djvu/39

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Uplifted with the inspiring scene, the priestly heart grew bold To speak with eloquence of Him, who the Great Deep controlled; And loftier seem d his youthful brow, and more sublime his voice, To warn the sinner to repent, and bid the saint rejoice.

A secret spell was on the heart that bowed the proudest head; Above us, the eternal skies, beneath, the mouldering dead; The dead, who know no burial rite, save storm or battle-cry, Close sepulchered in coral cells where dull sea-monsters lie.

A blessed privilege it is, in God's own courts to stand, And hear the pealing organ swell and join the prayerful band; Yet deeper doth the wanderer feel that One alone can save, Whose fleeting life hath floated forth like sea-weed o'er the wave.

A blessed privilege it is to heed the Sabbath chime, And forth neath summer-foliage walk to keep the holy time;