Lights and Shades [pp. 273]

LIGHTS AND SHADES.
Behold, the risen sun on Sodom gleams;
Still undisturbed the course of nature seems;
The sky is clear, the morning air serene;
In naught around is threatening danger seen.
Refreshed by sleep, the sons of Sodom riseCreation, smiling, cheers their roving eyes.
Thankless and prayerless they the day begin,
Prepared to run their wonted course in sin.
Each walk resounds with noise of trampling feet;
The busy hum is heard in every street;
No fears of death the careless mind employ;
All, all is bustle, pleasure, reckless joy.
Sudden a gathering cloud shuts out the sun,
And through the air deep, hollow murmurs run;
Darkness and gloom involve the face of day,
And in the sky red angry lightnings play;
Near and more near the sullen thunders roll,
And startling horrors shake the guilty soul;
The billowy, flashing clouds o'erspread the plain;
Scarce do the worldly from their toil refrain,
Scarce round the mother do her children press,
And in their looks their little fears express;
Scarce do the sportive raise the astonished eye;
Scarce do the timid for the covert fly;
Scarce do the bold suspect approaching harm,
When the loud thunder roars the last alarm!
Sulphureous flames in whelming torrents fall,
And one broad sheet of death enwraps them all;
A general shriek is heard, a general groan;
Earth heaves, and the whole plain is overthrown;
Its numerous cities form one funeral pyre,
And sunk in flames the writhing crowds expire!
Destruction's work is done; the storm is o'er;
Retiring thunders cease their hollow roar.
Abram afar his anxious eye extends,
And lo! a smoke from all the land ascends;
The shroud of ruin spreads the smoldering plain,
And none, save Zoar, of all its towns remain.
But are the thousands gone-for ever gone,
Who hailed with sprightly joy the rising dawn?
For ever is probation's season o'er,
And must they hail the light of life no more?
Has holy Justice sealed their final doom,
Where night eternal spreads its awful gloomWhere hell's dark fires surroundthe guilty soul,
And baleful passions rage without control?
Then O how poor the triumph vice can gain!
How short, alas! how fatal is its reign!
But that blest few, who reach the heavenly Zoar,
Shall hear aloof the storm of ruin roarShall see on flames creation's funeral pile,
And, undismayed, o'er falling nature smile.
-"*eeAeF44
PEACE may be the lot of the mind
That seeks it in meekness and love.
VOL. V.-35
Original.
LIGHTS AND SHADES.
THERE is an hour when gladness swells
Upon the buoyant soul;
When merriment rings out in peals
That care may not control;
When hearts beat high, elate with joy,
And throbbing wildly free,
Feel not the blast of cank'ring grief,
Or sting of misery.
There is an hour when joy doth come,
To cheer us on our way,
While wand'ring through this world of gloom,
Mid fiery passion's play;
When feelings, bright and joyous, thrill
The deep recess of mind,
And not a shade of anxious care
Or woe is left behind.
Ah! then it is that darkness comes
Athwart the glowing sky,
While gloom and sadness, gath'ring fast,
Compel our joys to fly.
Thus is the calm succeeded oft
By the tempest's angry breath,
Beneath whose sway all living things
Are swept away in death.
THE CONTRAST.
There is an hour when sadness comes
Upon the wearied heart;
When gloominess weighs down the soul,
And tears unbidden start;
When hearts that once, elate with joy,
Were throbbing wildly free,
Are swept by grief's tornado blast,
And plunged in misery.
There is an hour when peace is gone,
And joy hath passed away;
When hope itself is sunken low,
And scarcely lends its ray;
When feeling is with anguish fraught,
And naught is left behind
To fill the dreary waste of life The aching void of mind.
0, then it is that joyance comes,
And sorrow's cloud must fly,
Leaving the soul as clear and free
As yon bright azure sky.
'Tis thus the darkest, drearest hour,
Precedes the coming day;
And oft the calm is ushered in
By the lightning's fiery play.
E.
WHAT is life? a flower that blows,
Nipped by the frost, and quickly dead.
What is life? the full-blown rose,
That's scorched at noon and withered.
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