Classic Poem

Joy for the everlasting chime,
Swept from creation's great majestic chords,
The echoes of eternity in time
That all things are the Lord's!
The breath of morn, the hush of noon,
The evening's amber light,
Until the unsuspected silvery moon
With all the stars that cluster round her soon
First tell us it is night;
The mirth and music of a thousand rills
Amid the slumber of the hills;
And borne upon the bosom of the breeze
The diapason of the far-off mighty seas!
Joy for the glancing of the insect's wing,
And every living thing
In water, air or earth,
The multitudinous voices heard
From beast and bird,
Rejoicing in their birth,
And emulous by gladness thanks to give
To Him who made it happiness to live!
And joy, a deeper holier joy
For the rich dower of human love
That stirs the heart of man and boy,
The maiden and the mother,
The sister, friend, and brother,
And bids the kindreds of the world rejoice
Responsive to the still small voice
Of the Celestial Dove,
And makes, where'er the pilgrim roams,
The earth a mirror in her countless homes
Of heaven above!

What mean then all those undertones
Of sighs and groans,
That day and night incessantly arise
From earth and ocean to the listening skies,
And reach the Throne of thrones?
From lands of drought and thirsty plains,
From floods and desolating rains,
From earthquakes and from hurricanes;
From mists that veil the face of heaven,
From clouds by angry lightnings riven;
From every leaflet's blighted form
That shrivels in the east wind's wrath,
Or, shatter'd by the untimely storm,
Lies in our daily path;
From rapine of the beasts of prey,
From malice of the serpent brood,
That lurk beside the traveller's way
Or haunt the dreary solitude;
From anguish not unfelt
By Him who notes the sparrows as they fall;
From needless reckless sufferings dealt
On creatures made by Him who made us all;
Ay: and from sorer bitterer woe
Than nature in her wounds can show,
Or aught insensible can know,
From many a ruin'd hearth,
Once gay with Eden's bloom;
From many a home, once echoing songs of mirth,
Now silent as the tomb;
From hearts that bleed, from scorching tears
That weep the joys of bygone years,
From sin and self's remorseless agony,
Arises to the common Father's ears
His children's cry.

And shall this tide of mingled joy and sorrow,
Of bliss and bale,
These gladsome carols broken by the wail
Of misery's sickening tale,
Dreams of to-day, still baffled by to-morrow,
Shall this alternate shade and sheen
For ever pass o'er ages yet unseen?
Is this the horoscope of things to be,
The forecast of eternity?
Nay, Harp of prophecy, forbid
The wrongful thought!
The counsels of Eternal Love are wrought
In secret, and the ways of God are hid
In clouds of mystery that veil His throne,
A dark impenetrable zone
Except to faith alone.
Faith listens with an ear unseal'd;
Faith grasps the things to others unreveal'd.
The Lord hath spoken: — how or when
Lies not within her ken: —
Enough for her
The future will be God's interpreter.
She listens; and what time the hearts of men
Are failing them for fear,
She deems the hour is near,
And sings to her own heart the strain
Again and yet again,
The Great Redeemer comes, He comes to reign.

Sing, O ye heavens! O earth, rejoice!
The Lord is on His way
With sound of trumpet and archangel voice
He comes to call the people of His choice
To mansions of eternal day.
The Bridegroom claims the Bride,
He claims her for His own,
Emancipated, glorified;
And bids her take her destined place beside
Himself upon the throne.
Things only in the school of suffering learn'd,
Compassions elsewhere undiscern'd,
The clinging clasp on truth,
The trustfulness, the pitying ruth,
The high endurance that can dare
The worst of hate for love to bear, —
These things forsooth,
The fruit of centuries of discipline,
Beneficent, benign,
Are written in the every glance
Of her transparent countenance.
But on her cloudless brow,
Her fearless freeborn mien,
Calm and serene
No record of past anguish now,
No dread of change is seen.
Her sufferings all are o'er,
Nor are remember'd more
In that pure smile of childlike innocence,
That heaven of perfect confidence:
She seeks no other rapture or reward,
She is for ever with the Lord.

And in that morning of the revelation
Of the sons of God
The infinite creation,
Wherever wing has soar'd or footstep trod,
In earth beneath or firmament above,
Things small and great,
Inanimate and animate,
Shall know the omnipotence of Love.
Joy for His ransom'd universe!
Behold the end of sin and sorrow's reign!
There shall be no more curse,
There shall be no more crying, no more pain,
Nor death shall cast its dreadful pall again,
For ever conquer'd in that final strife,
Over the home of everlasting life.
O glorious city of the King of kings!
O blessed people underneath His wings!
No fear of evil more shall shadow them;
No foes shall threaten more their bliss untold;
No film shall cloud the pure crystalline gold
Of heaven's Jerusalem.
For there the throne
Of God and of the Lamb,
Unchanging as His Name I AM,
Is glory and defence in one;
And here we trust we worship and adore
The God of our salvation; unto Whom
Now in this world of glow and gloom,
Hereafter in that world of light,
Unclouded, endless, infinite,
Be glory evermore.