COMPOSED ON MULL HILL ON A VERY CALM AND LOVELY SABBATH EVENING.
When the summer day's declining,
And the flowers wet with dew,
And the moonbeams brightly shining,
With the ocean in view,
When the wind has ceased its raging,
And the sea like glass appears,
And the evening calm assuaging
All life's sorrows and its cares
Then the mind is sweetly stealing
From a world of toil and pain,
To a source of peace unfailing,
Like a calm upon the main;
For the ills that here oppress us
Cannot reach that peaceful shore,
And the trials that distress us
Cannot enter through its door.
While the gentle breathing zephyrs
Waft the fragrance of the grove,
And the ever-closing shadows
Draw the mind to things above;
Oh, how sweet 'tis now to wander
Where the heather flowers bloom,
And reflect on scenes more tender
In the land beyond the tomb:
Where the wind is never blowing.
And the tempest's rage is o'er;
Where the stream of life is flowing
For the humble and the poor;
Whore the heaving sigh of sadness
Never heaves the troubled breast,
Whore the voice of joy and gladness
Soothe, the cares of life to rest;
Where no tear of woe is starting,
And no dread of death's cold stream,
And the heart that bleeds at parting
Never more shall bleed again;
Where the sadness of the bosom
Shall for ever more remove,
As we plunge into the ocean
Of the great Redeemer's love:—
