Page:Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands.djvu/39

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;