AN APPEAL FOR MELROSE.
WHERE wild flowers grow and forest trees are waving
Their perfumed boughs so sweet and ever green,
Where gurgling brooks their mossy banks are laving,
And song-birds build 'neath every leafy screen,
Fain would we rear—O listen to our story,
All ye who feel immortal longings now,
All ye who hope to reign with Him in glory,
And wear the crown of light upon your brow—
Their perfumed boughs so sweet and ever green,
Where gurgling brooks their mossy banks are laving,
And song-birds build 'neath every leafy screen,
Fain would we rear—O listen to our story,
All ye who feel immortal longings now,
All ye who hope to reign with Him in glory,
And wear the crown of light upon your brow—
Fain would we rear a temple for the weary,
Who've travelled far, borne down by grief and care,
Who've dragged their chains through wildernesses dreary,
That they may find new life, new light in prayer;
That they may tread where thorns no more are growing,
To rend their bosoms and disturb their rest,
And drink instruction from those founts o'erflowing,
At last in robes of righteousness be dressed.
Who've travelled far, borne down by grief and care,
Who've dragged their chains through wildernesses dreary,
That they may find new life, new light in prayer;
That they may tread where thorns no more are growing,
To rend their bosoms and disturb their rest,
And drink instruction from those founts o'erflowing,
At last in robes of righteousness be dressed.
In vales of beauty still our flocks are feeding,
And herds are grazing round our lofty hills,
And sylvan scenes continually are pleading,
Exalting thought above life's coming ills.
Come, gaze with us on pleasant landscapes sloping
To lakes reflecting all the heavenly dyes,
Pluck from their bosoms the sweet lily drooping,
The fairest flower that blooms beneath the skies.
And herds are grazing round our lofty hills,
And sylvan scenes continually are pleading,
Exalting thought above life's coming ills.
Come, gaze with us on pleasant landscapes sloping
To lakes reflecting all the heavenly dyes,
Pluck from their bosoms the sweet lily drooping,
The fairest flower that blooms beneath the skies.
But then we cannot always dream and ponder
On rural joys, or dwell in earthly bowers;
Alas, through shades of doubt and sin we wander,
Treading the mazes of desponding hours.
'*Tis then we pause to glance on something higher,
Something beyond this narrow vale of tears;
We feel the spirit cheer each pure desire
As the dread view of the last day appears.
On rural joys, or dwell in earthly bowers;
Alas, through shades of doubt and sin we wander,
Treading the mazes of desponding hours.
'*Tis then we pause to glance on something higher,
Something beyond this narrow vale of tears;
We feel the spirit cheer each pure desire
As the dread view of the last day appears.
The sun's bright rays how many spires are gilding,
Shedding its beams on all the belfry towers;
Will you respond, who palace homes are building,
That soon its glorious light may fall on ours?
Fain would we ask of you, whom God has given
Treasure on earth—we beg you to bestow;
If earnestly you seek the throne in heaven
Let not this meek appeal unheeded go.
Shedding its beams on all the belfry towers;
Will you respond, who palace homes are building,
That soon its glorious light may fall on ours?
Fain would we ask of you, whom God has given
Treasure on earth—we beg you to bestow;
If earnestly you seek the throne in heaven
Let not this meek appeal unheeded go.