Daughter of faith, awake, arise, illume The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb; Melt and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul! Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay, Chased on his night-steed by the star of day! The strife is o’er--the pangs of nature close, And life’s last rapture triumph’s o’er her woes. Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of heaven undazzled by the blaze, On heavenly winds, that waft her to the sky, Float the sweet tones of star-born melody; Wild as that hallow’d anthem sent to hail Bethlehem’s shepherds in the lonely vale, When Jordan hush’d his waves, and midnight still Watched on the holy towers of Zion hill! Soul of the just! companion of the dead! Where is thy home, and whither art thou fled? Back to its heavenly source thy being goes, Swift as the comet wheels to whence he rose; Doom’d on his airy path awhile to burn, And doom’d, like thee, to travel and return. _Campbell._ A Heaven as bright, as blue, as mild, as calm, As thine own eye; the sun hath passed away, But left his mantle of transparent light To deck the gorgeous west, amid whose bright And purple depths I see a floating speck Of purest white, and now ’tis fixed, and now Swells into clearest beauty--’tis a star, Whose trembling orb seems shrinking from the light, Like a rebuked seraph’s eye, when drooped ’Neath the chastising glance; a bright ray shoots Up from its centre; gradual the star Severs before that ray, it parts--it spreads-- And from its heart comes forth a gliding form, Surpassing all my mortal thought of beauty:-- * * * * * ’Tis _Hope_! the enduring angel he has deigned To send upon the earth, that she may be Your comforter, that when despair comes down Upon your spirit, ye may flee to her, And in her cradling arms of safest rest Lay down your wearied heads upon her heart, Till your own souls have caught the light of hers; ’Tis she, whose fervent voice, and star-like eye, Shall string you to your toil of wrestling with The care of being; blessed be the name Of Him, whose mercy hath thus given ye A beacon to your path! _Constantia Louisa Reddell._ All _hope_ on earth for ever fled, A higher _hope_ remaineth; For while His wrath is o’er me shed, I know my Saviour reigneth. The worm may waste the withering clay, When flesh and spirit sever; My soul shall see eternal day, And dwell with God for ever! _T. Dale._ She lights our gloom, she soothes our care, She bids our fears depart, Transmutes to gems each grief-fraught tear, And binds the broken heart!