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FOREST MELODIES. |
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Books which reviled the name of Christ And sneer'd at heavenly piety.
The thunders sound a distant knell,
The lightnings wreathe the rising cloud;
Lo! how the fearful billows swell! And hark! the tempest wild and loud!
See ! there is one who trembles now;
Mark well his look of deep despair! Frenzy is written on his brow,
And lo! he kneels,—he kneels in prayer !
Poor trembler! wherefore kneel'st thou there ?
Why lift thy frantic eyes to' heaven ? Why raise that wildly-fervent prayer ?
Why askest thou to be forgiven ?
"£ is strange, for lajte we heard thee say, There is no power in Jesus' blood ;
I have no sins to wash away ;
There is no Iteaven—no hell—no God !
" 0 God!" he cried; but hark ! a crash— A deadly pause—and yet one more;
A deeper surge—a lurid flash—
And nil with that poor wretch is o'er!
That awful scene is o'er—but still The wailing winds and boiling flood
Whisper—nay, thunder : " Man, be still, ^AnA/eel, and know there is a God!'
1845. |
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