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And the glad earth and glowing skies

Are rife with thousand melodies.

II.

E'en thus, methinks, will rapture borrow

A brightness from the hour of sorrow;

E'en thus our God at times will shroud

His smiles behind the darkest cloud ;

Awhile, all trembling and aghast,
We gaze ;-but, lo, the storm is past !
Away the murky vapours roll;
Sunshine breaks in upon the soul !
Faith bids each lingering doubt be gone,
Hope lays her liveliest colours on,
And Joy, upon her eagle-wings,
Mounts through the golden sky, and sings.

III.

Seek we Philippi's towers once more :
The weary strife of day is o'er ;

And on the landscape and the town

The summer night sinks softly down ;
But still the tread of hurried feet

Resounds along the echoing street;

And here and there with anxious face,

In vacant porch or market-place, Dark groups are met to interchange Conjecture vague and rumour strange. “I saw,” cried one, “that stranger Jew! His figure to its height he drew, And turning on the sacred maid, * Cease, lying spirit, cease!' he said, 'I charge thee, in the name of One • Thou know’st and must obey, begone ! What name, in sooth, I cannot tell :

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Howbeit, with shrill unearthly yell,
It fled before the o'ermastering spell :
And ne'er, methinks, again will bless
Apollo's virgin prophetess.”

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And Phæbus' priests rushed wildly in;
The stranger and his friend they caught,
And to the hall of council brought :
There, amid insult, 35 blows and blood,
Shorn of their power the captives stood,
Yet bravely stood; I see e'en now
Their lofty, calm, undaunted brow :-
I felt resistless pity rise,

To mark that host of enemies

Bearing the friendless men along
With whoop, and shout, and barbarous song,

To nerve them for to-morrow's doom

In yonder dungeon's inmost gloom.”
Then question rose, if Hell or Heaven
Such deep mysterious spell had given,-
A spell the very gods obeyed,
Yet powerless in its owner's aid.

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V.

So deemed they.-Be it ours the while
To seek in that sepulchral pile

The heroes of our lay!
Alas, their hapless plight expressed
How well their guardian's 56 savage breast
Responded to the stern behest,

Which gave them to his sway. Chained to the damp and slimy floor, That reeked and reddened with their gore,

In solitude and pain they wore

The dreary night away. Aye, there the helpless body lies, A bound and bleeding sacrifice ! But baffled malice vainly flings Its fetter on the spirit's wings :

High music floats along 37 Those sullen regions of despair,

And their poor tenants start to hear,

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Mellowed in cadence sweet and clear,

The unusual burst of

song

SONG.

STROPHE I.

What change of time, 38 or place, or state

The spirit's love shall separate

From Christ her Lord ?

Shall tribulation, or distress,

Violence, want, or nakedness,

Peril, or sword ?

STROPHE II.

Nay! through Him 59 our soul adores,

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We are more than conquerors!
Nay!--not all the powers that dwell
Or in Heaven, or Earth, or Hell,
Not height above, nor depth beneath,
Things present, future, life or death

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