My Home's on the mountain,
'Mid fragrance and shade,
Where gushes the fountain,
In wild flowers arrayed;
Where nature is sweetest,
Unfashion'd by art,
And winds wing their fleetest -
A home of the heart.
The bright summer's morning
Breaks…
"Blessed are the dead who die in the LORD." REV. xiv. 3."These are they which came out of great tribulation." REC. vii. 14.FINISHED is thy strife, thy conflict's o'er,The eyes that wept are now to weep no more:GOD shall wipe away all tears in…
When Adam, with his blooming rib,By the behest of Heaven,From Paradise, his native home,All sorrowing was driven -The curse primeval, though so hard,A blessing was, I trow,That she should nurse her little babes,While he should guide the PLOUGH!So our…
Admit her to the Union? - Yes!
If our democracy can bow
To kings, and is prepared to kiss
The loathsome hem of tyrants now;
From principles that years have tried,
If thus we fall, no longer men,
And to our fathers' deeds of pride
Are recreant…
When liberty first sought a home on the earth,
No altar the goddess could find
Till art's greatest triumph to printing gave birth,
And temper she reared in the mind,
The phantoms of ignorance shrunk from the sight,
And tyranny's visage grew…
JESUS, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despis'd, forsaken,
Thou, from hence, my all shalt be.
Perish every fond ambition,
All I've hoped, or sought, or known -
Yet how rich is my condition,
God and heaven are…
THE broad - the bright - the glorious westIs spread before me now!Where the gray mists of morning restBeneath you mountain's brow:The bound is past - the gaol is won-The region of the setting sunIs open to my view;Land of the valiant and the…
The words went to thy heart! why were they new? -Long, long since was the title richly earn'd;Here is oppression's home - nor is her powerFelt only the injured, suffering slave;Among the free, the wealthy, whose who seemTo lead a happy life, are many…
GEN. xiv. 3. The sons of Jacob, sinful men,
Stood before Egypt's lord;
And guilt and fear were working here,
Keen as a two edged sword,
Within their bosoms whilst they thought Of what their bloody hands had wrought. They thought of Joseph.…
And they have spurned thy word,
Thou of the old THIRTEEN?
Whose soil, where Freedom's blood first poured,
Hath yet a darker green?
Tread the weak Southron's pride and lust, Thy name and counsels in the dust! And have they closed thy mouth,
And…
