| A naval officer visited a friend in the country. Several men were sitting round the smoking-room fire when he arrived, and a fox-terrier was with them. Presently the heavy, shambling footsteps of an old dog, and the metallic shaking sound of ... Read more of Peter's Ghost at Scary Stories.ca | Informational.caPrivacy |
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Wales PoetryMy Father-landLand of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str... Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa... Childe Harold "Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t... My Native Cot The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo... An Address To The Summer of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... Snowdon King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares... The Withered Leaf Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... To The Lark "Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the... Song To Arvon by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng... Twenty Third Psalm My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... The Cuckoo's Tale Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the... From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of... The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m... Tribanau Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin... Taliesin's Prophecy A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,... Old Morgan And His Wife Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... |
The Immovable CovenantCategory: The Sublime. the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist Church, and was possessed of extensive learning, and a highly critical taste. After officiating as Minister at a Church in Swansea and other places, he finally settled at Builth, where he died at an early age.] Ye cloud piercing mountains so mighty, Whose age is the age of the sky; No cold blasts of winter affright ye, Nor heats of the summer defy: You've witness'd the world's generations Succeeding like waves on the sea; The deluge you saw, when doom'd nations, In vain to your summits would flee. You challenge the pyramids lasting, That rolling milleniums survive; Fierce whirlwinds, and thunderbolts blasting, And oceans with tempests alive! But lo! there's a day fast approaching, Which shall your foundations reveal,-- The powers of heaven will be shaking, And earth like a drunkard shall reel! Proud Idris, and Snowdon so tow'ring, Ye now will be skipping like lambs; The Alps will, by force overpow'ring Propell'd be disporting like rams! The breath of Jehovah will hurl you-- Aloft in the air you shall leap: Your crash, like his thunder's who'll whirl you, Shall blend with the roars of the deep. All ties, and strong-holds, with their powers, Shall, water-like, melting be found; Earth's palaces, temples, and towers, Shall then be all dash'd to the ground: But were this great globe plunged for ever In seas of oblivion, or prove Untrue to its orbit, yet never, My God, will thy covenant move! The skies, as if kindling with ire and Resentment, will pour on this ball A deluge of sulphurous fire, and Consume its doom'd elements all! But though heaven and earth will be passing Away on time's Saturday eve; The covenant-bonds, notwithstanding, Are steadfast to all that believe! I see--but no longer deriding-- The sinner with gloom on his brow: He cries to the mountains to hide him, But nothing can shelter him now! He raves--all but demons reject him! But not so the Christian so pure; The covenant-arms will protect him, In these he'll be ever secure! Thus fixed, while his triumphs unfolding, Enrapture his bosom serene: In sackcloth the heavens he's beholding, And nature dissolving is seen; He mounts to the summits of glory, And joins with the harpers above, Whose theme is sweet Calvary's story-- The issue of covenant love. Methinks, after ages unnumber'd Have roll'd in eternity's flight, I see him, by myriads surrounded, Enrob'd in the garments of light; And shouting o'er this world's cold ashes-- "Thy covenant, my God, still remains: No tittle or jot away passes, And thus it my glory sustains." He asks, as around him he glances, "Ye sov'reigns and princes so gay, Where are your engagements and pledges? Where are they--where are they to-day? Where are all the covenants sacred That mortal with mortals e'er made?" A silent voice whispers,--"Departed-- 'Tis long since their records did fade!" I hear him again, while he's winging His flight through the realms of the sky, Th' immovable covenant singing With voice so melodious and high That all the bright mountains celestial Are dancing, as thrill'd with delight: Too lofty for visions terrestial-- He vanishes now from my sight. Blest Saviour, my rock, and my refuge, I fain to thy bosom would flee; Of sorrows an infinite deluge On Calv'ry thou barest for me: Thou fountain of love everlasting-- High home of the purpose to save: Myself on the covenant casting, I triumph o'er death and the grave. Next: An Ode To The Thunder Previous: The Day Of Judgment
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