THE ANGEL OF THE WATERS.
Full flow'd Bethesda's mantling pool
While forth from hall and bower,
Throng'd the wan victims of disease
To test its healing power,
Yet still, in calm repose it lay,
Though many a straining eye
For its first, infant ripple watch'd,
With pain's impatient sigh.
'Tis troubled!—Man of science say,
What moves its mystic tide?
Doth some strange planet from its throne
Attract yon heaving tide?
Thou answerest not. The christian sees
An Angel break its rest,
And bring the renovating flood,
O'er each sad sufferer's breast.
Oh! if the fever of the heart,
Or palsy of the brain,
Should smite us, Father! till we find
All earthly helpers vain,
Send forth thine Angel to the stream
That holy health can give;
And bid him stir its blessed wave,
That we may bathe, and live.
And for our brethren of the Sea,
Who oft neglected pine,
Incite our sympathizing care
And wake a zeal divine,
Till we, their penury enrich
With Heaven's eternal gem,
And what the Angel did for us,
Delighted, do for them.