TRUTH's mighty structure, stamped with its Author's
Lineaments divine, for ever stands secure.
The storms of hate and scorn, that o'er its summit
Darkly lower, and lightnings fierce that wreath the
Tempest-clouds, hurl their bolts in vain its beauty
To deface; nor opposition's swelling waves
That foam and break in fury round its base,
Its sure foundations undermine. For the Great
Architect, who built the skies, and stretched the heaven's
Blue covering as a curtain round the wide
Ethereal space, and in their orbit set the
Countless worlds, that, sparkling o'er its vast expanse,
Move on in their eternal course, hath its
Temple framed; and guarded by his hand, it has
Withstood the force of elements combined to
Thrust it down, and, through the lapse of ages,
Bid defiance to the ravages of time.
Enshrined within its gorgeous halls, gems of
Surpassing brightness shine, whose lustre rolling
Years can never rob, or rust of error canker.
Emitting heavenly rays that light the way
Still deeper in its priceless treasures.
Each age has had its basis broad, on which its
Champions have stood, and bold in its defense,
Oft stained its hallowed precincts with their blood.
And now the crowning truths of revelation,
Gleaming in living characters, foretell the
Consummation of the great prophetic scheme.
And from its watch-tower, forth is heralded the
True alarm for those who anxious would inquire,
"What of the night?"—"The Morning cometh—also, the
Night." And now the Enemy, with all his raging
Hosts, at its vitals aim their pois'nous darts, and
With the remnant, 'neath the Royal Standard, raised,
Make war. And happy they, who, faithful to their
Charge, endure until the Great Deliverer
Comes; for they alone, who, with its armor
Girt, lay not their weapons down until the
Final conquest won, will reap the rich reward.
And worthy they, alone, to join the victor's
Song, or wear the conqueror's crown.
And when that storm of wrath, whose fearful shades
Already tinge with gloom the distant skies,
And sounds, portentous of its dread approach, fall
On the ear of universal mind, as bright
Precursors of a better day, shall, like an
Angry deluge, overwhelm the earth,—the heavens,
As a scroll together rolled, involved in one
Terrific blaze, reveal the Righteous Judge, in
Robes of vengeance clad, whose light, ineffable,
Sun and stars enshroud, as in the pall of night,
Whose voice this solid globe shall shake, and with the
Awful shock convulsed, all nature, shuddering, dies,—
Then all the fabric's frail, that human art or
Sophistry have reared, founded on the sand, shall
Fall, and visionary plans dissolve as mist
Before the opening day. While TRUTH, triumphant
Rising o'er their tomb, sublime, amid the general
Wreck, its everlasting pillars firm remain.
And when the renovated earth, beneath the
Smiles of an approving God, again shall bloom,
Whose glory, as a flood, poured from the fount of
Light, irradiates from pole to pole,—hosanna's
Raptured strains, unceasing, roll to swell the
Wonders of redeeming love, and all Creation's
Voice, anew, the choral songs of praise awake,
As on its morning dawn,—then shall his chosen
Israel behold the grand design of Wisdom
Infinite, complete—THE RESTITUTION of a world.