Beginnings that have here in beauty stood, Prone, as from withering fire or wasting flood, A little season wrecked and ruined lie[29], Till they that build put pride and passion by, 2920 And, taught by pain, through suffering's fiercest fires, Part with all lustful, covetous desires. When faith shall wear the armor without flaw, And union such as sainted Enoch saw[30] Honors the fullness of celestial law, Then--sword of God and blade of Gideon, Dazzling, confounding, driving on and on, Till besomed as with fire the fated land, Where Zion, guileless, glorious, shall stand, A terror only to her trembling foes[31], 2930 Ensign of peace and Eden of repose, Where life's tree blossoms and light's fountain flows. Meanwhile her valiant ones, her tried and true Daughters and sons, shall they not dare and do? In vain, alas! in vain of such to sing, With trembling hand a tuneless harp I string. For who can count the cost, the painful price, Measure the sorrow and the sacrifice, Rare spirits of a more than Spartan race Compelled their souls of halting dread to face? 2940 Harp of the Hebrew seer! Be thine to break The muse's slumber, bid the world awake, And glow o'er deeds yet done for conscience' sake. What tongue than Zion's own can loose the spell? Whose voice than modern Leah's, Rachel's, tell The story of a burden borne so well? Bending, not breaking, 'neath thy load of care, Sowing to joy, thou shalt not reap despair! Planting the hope of human purity, That righteousness may crown futurity,-- 2950 Patience! endure! for pain shall bring thee power[32]. Time but a dream--eternity thy dower. Where perfect love casts forth the jealous fear, A diamond in thy diadem each tear; And every sigh that rent thy suffering breast, A wave of rapture on the shores of rest. My lot as thine, purest of pure-in-heart! Be mine the bitter as the better part. But sorrows else have shadowed all things there; The voice of mourning drowns the voice of prayer. 2960 Dampened e'en now with death's prophetic dew, Thy cold, pale brow, O fated, fair Nauvoo! Remains for thee no peace, for thine no rest, Till on the parching plain, the frozen crest; A desert land of unlocked mystery, Frowning on hope, and dumb to history. Yet ere the burning wilderness be won, Shines down on other deeds the shuddering sun. City of Joseph[33]! Look! from 'leaguered walls, Where Calvary's crimson light on Carthage falls! 2970 Ere murderous fate the martyr's bolt hath sped, While deepening darkness glooms a sky of lead, And thundrous threatenings tone their notes of dread, Looms to the fore an archangelic form, A sunlit summit shining o'er the storm; A towering rock above the rushing tide Of eager souls that surge on every side, Where living waters from the fountain play, And glowing words light up the darkened way.