Heav'n to thy charge resigns the awful hour!
Oh! then, thy kingdom comes? Immortal Power!
What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly
The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye!
Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey

The morning dream of life's eternal day

Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin!

And all the Phoenix spirit burns within!

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Oh! deep-enchanting prelude to repose,

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The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes!

Yet half I hear the parting spirit sigh,

It is a dread and awful thing to die!

Mysterious worlds, untravell'd by the sun!

Where Time's far-wand'ring tide has never run,

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From your unfathom'd shades, and viewless spheres,

A warning comes, unheard by other ears.

'Tis Heav'n's commanding trumpet, long and loud,

Like Sinai's thunder, pealing from the cloud!
While Nature hears, with terror-mingled trust,

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The shock that hurls her fabric to the dust;

And, like the trembling Hebrew, when he trod

The roaring waves, and call'd upon his God,
With mortal terrors clouds immortal bliss,
And shrieks, and hovers o'er the dark abyss!

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!

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Fly, like the moon-ey'd herald of dismay,

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Chas'd on his night-steed by the star of day!
The strife is o'er-the pangs of Nature close,

And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes.
Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze,
The noon of Heav'n undazzled by the blaze,
On Heav'nly winds that waft her to the sky,
Float the sweet tones of star-born melody;

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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

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Watch'd on the holy tow'rs of Zion hill!

Soul of the just! companion of the dead!

Where is thy home, and whither art thou fled?

Back to its heav'nly source thy being goes,
Swift as the comet wheels to whence he rose;
Doom'd on his airy path a while to burn,

And doom'd, like thee, to travel, and return.

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Hark! from the world's exploding centre driv'n,

With sounds that shook the firmament of Heav'n,

Careers the fiery giant, fast and far,

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On bick'ring wheels, and adamantine car;

From planet whirl'd to planet more remote,

He visits realms beyond the reach of thought;
But, wheeling homeward, when his course is run,
Curbs the red yoke, and mingles with the sun!

So hath the traveller of earth unfurl'd

Her trembling wings, emerging from the world;

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And o'er the path by mortal never trod,

Sprung to her source, the bosom of her God!

Oh! lives there, Heav'n! beneath thy dread expanse,

One hopeless, dark Idolater of Chance,

Content to feed, with pleasures unrefin'd,

The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind;

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Who, mould'ring earthward, 'reft of every trust,

In joyless union wedded to the dust,

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Could all his parting energy dismiss,

And call this barren world sufficient bliss?

There live, alas! of Heav'n-directed mien,

Of cultur'd soul, and sapient eye serene,
Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of a day,

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Spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay!