thrilling calm on all around. And on His brow sits equity enthroned, And truth and love united with it there; So radiant is His presence that, unveiled, The eye is dazzled which upon it dwells. He calls before Him all the people, and Discerns between the evil and the good Of all the deeds which they have done, and weighs Together in a balance, one in one, The evil and the good of all their thoughts, And all their words and mingled purposes. Then they to whom the balance falls to ill Their judgment thus receive: “Depart, depart Unto the burning lake, for ever fed. Ye would not hearken to the warning words, p. 132And now it is too late. Depart! depart!” Then to the hell eternal they and all The tortures of the world, and fears, and pains, And lust and anger, malice and disdain, And pride, and pomp, and every evil thought, Shall roll together, in a burning mass, Down deeper, deeper to the yawning gulphs. Thus all the mountains and great hills shall fly; And seas, and lakes, and rivers of the earth Shall vanish as a cloud before the wind; And He who was the Judge shall now ascend, Together with His chosen people, high Unto the heavenly gates, and, entering in, Shall have abode through day that knows no end In an Elysium of unmeasured joy. p. 130 p. 131 p. 132 p. 135THE SABBATH DAY. p. 135 Sweetest and fairest of the days that dawn Upon Elysian hill, and over lawn, And field, and city spread a roseate light! The morning of the Sabbath day—in dight Of many a hallowed strain it comes. The bell Of every village o’er the plain doth tell, From its high seat, within the sacred tower Above the house of God, from hour to hour, A joyous song; and in cathedral town The gladsome peals break forth and warble down; While through the city every belfrey gives A glad reply, which seems to say, “He lives! He lives!” The song of praise is heard ascend, Raised to the heavenly throne, in one to blend With angels’ song, from many a cottage rung, Where on this day the father with his young Sits down in peace; while, in the pine grove down The rural glen, a myriad voices crown The clear-tuned solo of the warbling thrush, Or oft in chorus to a duet flush, Sung with the full-piped blackbird of the wood, p. 136Their notes are joined. The aspect and the mood Of everything is changed, as wont on day Of toil the crowded city moves to lay The bands of slumber for a time away, But brings not out the bustle and the din Which is her weekday aspect; and within Her walls a stilly peace prevails; the roar And noise of