"They heard a voice from Heaven, saying, Come up hither." Ye have a land of mist and shade, Where spectres roam at will, Dense clouds your mountain cliffs pervade. And damps your valleys chill; But ne'er has midnight's wing of woe Eclipsed our changeless ray; "Come hither," if ye seek to know The bliss of perfect day. Doubt, like the bohan-upas, spreads A blight where'er ye tread, And Hope, a wailing mourner, sheds The tear o'er harvests dead; With us, no traitorous foe assails When love her home would make; In Heaven, the welcome never fails, "Come," and that warmth partake. Time revels 'mid your boasted joys, Death dims your brighest rose, And sin your bower of peace destroys -- Where will ye find repose? Ye're wearied in your pilgrim-race, Sharp thorns your path infest, "Come hither," -- rise to our embrace, And Christ shall give you rest. 'Twas thus, methought, at twilight hour The angel's lay came down; Like dews upon the drooping flower, When droughts of summer frown; How richly o'er the ambient air Swelled out that music free! Oh! -- when the pangs of death I bear, Sing ye that song to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 3. NAPLES by SARA TEASDALE ROBIN REDBREAST by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE SUNSET WINGS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ON THE STATUE OF AN ANGEL, BY BIENAIME by WASHINGTON ALLSTON TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY by JOHN BEAUMONT |