There is a reprobated plan, Say how did it arise? By the predestinated clan Of horrid cruelties. The plan is this––they hold a few Who are ordained for heaven, They hold the rest a cursed crew That cannot be forgiven. * * * * * If all things were fore-ordained, Or finally decreed, I would like to know why mortal man Is responsible for his deeds? If Calvinism thus be true, And all things fore-decreed, The Lord has been very kind Unto the devil indeed. * * * * * But we do say God’s Holy Word Doth no such doctrine teach, For if it do, then why do you Attempt His word to preach? For if God has fore-ordained All things to be just so, Then we do say, all cease to pray, And to a-fishing go; But, my friends, all on you I call To mind this doctrine well, It has its birth, not on this earth, But in the pit of hell. A vision of the judgment day swept the poet’s high-strung sensibilities and the fires of Parnassus caused him to warble: I dreamed I was out to the east––cast mine eye–– The atmosphere calm, and serene was the sky, So calm, still and awful––tremendous the sight–– I thought the last judgment was drawing to light. The dead all arose immediately then, And covered the earth with both women and men All standing together––’tis hard to indite The aspect most shocking––surprising the sight. A pavement of blue from the cloud did go forth, Extensively reaching from South to the North, On which holy angels stood almost complete, And glorified spirits in harmony sweet. The next I heard Jesus say come you up here, When all the blessed nations up gently did steer, And quitting the globe with sweet pleasure did sing A song that had never before tuned a string. Then in the sweet transport my feet left the ground, Without any motion of body or sound; My joys were unspeakably full of delight, So loud was the music it wakened me quite. We were pleased in the perusal of these hymns to notice that the poet’s theology took in apparently all men in its broad sweep. We said here is a man who does not recognize the color line in his thought of God’s redeeming love. It takes poetry to expand the soul above prejudice and caste––when lo, we stumbled across the following: Roll forward, dear Saviour, roll forward the day When all shall submit and rejoice in thy sway, When _white_ men and Indians, united in praise, One vast hallelujah triumphant shall raise.