THE
MILLENNIUM,
AND OTHER
POEMS:

  A glorious theme the sacred muse inspires,
  Cheers up the soul, and tunes the sounding lyre:
  Lights the dark vale of sorrow, pain and wo,
  And gives to man a paradise below.
  The joyful time, by prophets long foretold,
  At length comes rolling on the astonished world:
  When God, the second time, should set his hand,
  To gather Israel to their promised land.
  An ensign to the nations now is reared,
  The standard waving, and the way prepared;
  Let kings and empires tremble at his word,
  The gentle nations all their aid afford.
  What though Assyria's captives long and lone,[A]
  Have wandered outcasts to the world unknown,
  In some far region to the frozen north,
  Where pale Borealis sends his meteors forth!!
  Where fields of ice unbounded block the road,
  To keep intruders from their drear abode;
  Where no sweet flowers the dreary landscape cheer,
  Nor plenteous harvests crown the passing year?
  What though the land where milk and honey flowed,
  And peace and plenty crowned their blest abode,
  Has by the Gentiles long been trodden down,
  And desolation reigned o'er all the ground?
  Yet soon the icy mountains down shall flow,
  The parched ground in springs of water flow,
  The barren desert yield delicious fruit,
  Their souls to cheer, their spirits to recruit;
  Mountains before them levelled to a plain,
  The valleys rise, the ocean cleave in twain,
  The crooked straightened, and the rough made plain,
  The way prepared, lo, Israel comes again!
  The seven streams of Egypt's rolling flood
  Shall feel the power and might of Israel's God,
  Their waves on heaps, like towering mountains rise,
  They cross dry shod, with wonder and surprise.
  And thus with joy Assyria's captives come,
  In grand procession to their ancient home;
  A scene of joy and wonder more sublime
  Than all that passed in hardened Pharaoh's time.
  When captive Israel raised to heaven their cry,
  And Moses came, commissioned from on high,
  Poured the ten plagues on Egypt with his rod,
  The monarch trembling, owned the power of God,
  And filled with envy, rage, and wild dismay,
  Thrust Israel forth, and bade them haste away;
  Then moved with wild despair that all was lost,
  He straight pursued them with his numerous host;
  Before them stretched the vast expanded sea,
  And mountains, on each side, hedged up the way,
  The roar of chariots armed, pressed on their rear
  In dread array, and filled their souls with fear:
  Till Moses o'er the sea stretched forth his rod,
  And cleared a passage through the mighty flood,
  And soon, with safety, led his armies through,
  But Pharaoh, close behind, did still pursue;
  The floods returning with majestic roar,
  His armies sunk, o'erwhelmed, to rise no more;
  While Israel still pursued their joyous way,
  Their God, in fire by night, in cloud by day
  Before them moved, majestic to behold!
  Until on Sinai's mount the thunder rolled,
  And lightnings flaming in one general glare,
  While clouds of smoke hung on the darkened air.
  Jehovah spake! the trumpet, long and loud,
  Earth's whole foundation to the centre bowed.
  Israel and Moses quaking stood around,
  A sudden trembling seized the solid ground.
  Moses, at length, drew near; the law was given,
  Of justice, equal weights, and measure even:
  And angels' food became their constant bread,
  A month on quails their numerous hosts were fed,
  The rock was smitten, and a fountain burst,—
  Poured forth its cooling stream to quench their thirst.
  His angel led them all their journey through;
  The nations trembling, fainted at the view;
  Their mighty walls fell tumbling to the ground,
  Destruction swept the nations, all around.
  But lo! a scene more glorious strikes my view
  Than Israel ever saw or Egypt knew:
  Ten thousand times ten thousand I behold,
  Returning home, as prophets long foretold:
  Sing, O ye heavens! let earth rejoice again,
  And all prepare for king Messiah's reign.

  Lo! Judea's remnants—long dispersed abroad,
  Without a prophet, king, or priest of God—
  Have wandered exiles from their native home,
  To darkness doomed, till their deliverance comes.
  Their city, once so glorious to behold,
  Their temple, decked with precious stones and gold,
  The seat of wisdom, and the light of kings,
  Where mighty nations did their tribute bring,
  Have long remained in one wide ruin round,
  And desolation reigned o'er all the ground.
  But comfort ye my people, saith your God;
  Proclaim the joyful tidings far abroad:
  Thy sins are pardoned, and thy warfare o'er,
  Thy sons and daughters now shall grieve no more;
  But kings thy nursing fathers shall become;
  Their ships, and beasts, and chariots bring thee home.
  The Gentiles, in their arms, thy sons return;
  Thy daughters on their shoulders shall be borne.
  Trees crowned with fruit their fainting souls shall cheer,
  Their desert land like Eden shall appear;
  Their fields, where desolation long has reigned,
  Shall now, be fenced, and tilled, and sowed again;
  And flocks and herds, in plenty shall be seen,
  O'er all the plains they feed in pastures green.
  Thy ruined cities shall in splendor rise,
  Thy lofty towers point upwards to the skies;
  Thy temple reared, most glorious to behold,
  Its courts adorned with precious stones and gold:
  All things restored, as prophets long declared,
  Thus king Messiah's way shall be prepared.

  Rise, heavenly muse, and leave those scenes of joy,
  Awhile let other climes, thy pen employ,
  Extend thy vision, cross the mighty deep,
  And o'er Columbia's scenes in anguish weep.
  See Joseph's remnants, long in darkness dwell,
  Since by their hands a mighty nation fell.[A]
  The light which once illumed their happy land,
  Where towns and cities did in order stand,
  Had slumbered long beneath their mouldering towers.
  Their flowery landscape, and their shady bowers.
  Had long been scenes of cruelty, and blood,
  The scourge and wrath of an avenging God:
  When lo! a scene of wonder, struck their view;
  O'er the vast deep, an object strange and new,
  Came gliding swiftly onward to the shore,
  Part fish, part fowl, or something to adore;
  They gazed, with admiration and delight,
  As plainer still the object hove in sight:
  Nor little dreamed, the Gentiles were at hand,
  To smite and drive them, from their blessed land.
  With warmest friendship, they their guests sustain,
  Until too late, they find their struggles vain:
  Whole fleets and armies, lined their lengthened shore;
  With din of armour bright, and cannon's roar;
  Their cities burned, and drenched with human gore,
  They sunk in ruin, and were known no more.
  See Gentile cities on a sudden rise,
  Their lofty spires point upward to the skies,
  Where late the shades, spread o'er the red man's grave,
  A sacred bower in memory of the brave.
  See boundless forests still around them spread,
  From north to south, an immeasurable shade;
  Where mighty chieftains oft the signal gave,
  And struggled long, their country for to save.
  Tribes rose to vengeance while their councils rung,
  And liberty still thundered from their tongues;
  Onward they rushed with rage and wild despair,
  The midnight war-whoop rent the darkened air;
  While terror seized their unsuspecting prey,
  And blood of infants marked their dreadful way!
  Towns wrapped in flames and women captive led,
  Where cruel torture filled their souls with dread.
  Once more the Gentile stung with keen revenge;
  Pursues the red skin o'er the woodland range,
  Till darkened swamps become their wild retreat;
  And there prepared, the advancing foe they meet.
  With desperation they their cause maintain;
  Till many a chieftain fell,—their struggle vain,
  Till by superior force o'erpowered they yield,
  And leave the pale-face master of the field.
  From the St. Lawrence's snow invested wilds,
  To Florida, where constant verdure smiles,
  Their towns and cities sprinkle all the shore;
  The midnight war-whoop there is heard no more.
  But as their rapid settlements advance,
  To the dark wilds, round Erie's vast expanse,
  Or o'er the Alleghanies bend their course,
  Where broad Ohio's waters have their source;
  The natives roused once more in dread array,
  Assert their rights, spread terror and dismay;
  Till over-powered again, they take to flight,
  And with reluctance yield their lawful right.
  But tribes remoter still, with dread surprize,
  Alarmed at their approach, vindictive rise,
  Renew the conflict with redoubled force,
  With dreadful slaughter mark their vengeful course,
  Till checked by force superior to their own,
  Again they fly discouraged and undone,
  Reduced in numbers, give the struggle o'er,
  Tamely submit, and seek their rights no more.

  Meantime the Gentiles break their foreign yoke,
  While tyrants tremble at the dreadful stroke,
  Assert their freedom, gain their liberty,
  And to the world proclaim Columbia free.
  O'er ocean's wave triumphant in the breeze,
  Her banner floats o'er all the distant seas,
  Where dire oppression, long with tyrant sway,
  Had ruled mankind, and led them far astray.
  With admiration seized, the nations all,
  Filled with delight Columbia's deeds extol;
  And gazing still, they catch the sacred fire,
  And love of liberty their souls inspire.
  While nations oft in their extended plan;
  From slumber wake to claim the rights of man,
  Empires o'erturned, and tyrants headlong hurled,
  The voice of freedom echoes round the world.
  First, France arose, in triumph led the way,
  Till love of conquest led them far astray;
  And dire ambition seized the helm of state,
  Through seas of blood, where millions met their fate:
  Till they reluctant give the struggle o'er,
  And rest content with rights enjoyed before.
  And next the Greeks their ancient spirit caught,
  From long oppression roused they bravely fought,
  They burst the Moslem chains emerging free,
  Through seas of blood obtained their liberty.
  Poland in turn received the sacred fire,
  Her noble sons for freedom did aspire;
  And struggling long at length they bravely fell.
  But cease, my muse; the tale forbear to tell,
  And turn again unto the favored shore,
  Where freedom's genius kindly hovers o'er,
  See states and nations joyfully extend,
  Their wide domain almost from end to end;
  From the far eastern shores of rugged Maine,
  To wild Missouri's rich and flowery plains,
  The harvest fields with rural plenty crowned;
  And flowery gardens flourish all around;
  The humble cottage and the lofty dome,
  Each crowned with plenty form an equal home
  See on her lakes, and on her thousand streams,
  Her vessels float impelled by sail or steam.
  While busy commerce floats along her seas,
  With sails expanded wide before the breeze;
  Far o'er the wave her rich produce they bear,
  And in return bring every kind of ware,
  To clothe her sons, her daughters to array,
  In linen fine and silk and purple gay;
  Thus peace and plenty crown Columbia's soil,
  A rich reward of industry and toil.
  Lo! the poor Indian, if he chance to roam
  O'er the wide fields he once could call his own;
  Where oft in youth he sported in the chace,
  Mourning the change, he scarcely knows the place;
  With bursting heart his streaming eyes survey
  The sacred mound where lies his father's clay.
  O'erwhelmed with grief to heaven he lifts his eyes
  Before the throne his prayers like incense rise:
  Great Spirit of our fathers lend an ear,
  Pity the red man—to his cries give ear,
  Long hast thou scourged him with thy chastening sore,
  When will thy vengeance cease, thy wrath be o'er;
  When will the white man's dire ambition cease,
  And let our scattered remnants dwell in peace?
  Or shall we, (driven to the western shore)
  Become extinct and fall to rise no more?
  Forbid, great Spirit; make thy mercy known,
  Reveal thy truth, thy wandering captives own,
  Make bare thine arm of power for our release,
  And o'er the earth extend the reign of peace.

  Ye gloomy scenes far hence, intrude no more;
  Sublimer themes invite the muse, to soar
  In loftier strains, while scenes both strange and new,
  Burst on the sight and open to the view.
  Lo! from the opening heavens in bright array,
  An angel comes, to earth he bends his way,
  Reveals to man in power, as at the first,
  The fulness of the Gospel long since lost.
  See earth obedient from its bosom yield!
  The sacred truth it faithfully conceal'd,
  The wise confounded startle at the sight,
  The proud and haughty tremble with affright;
  The hireling priests against the truth engage,
  While hell beneath stands trembling filled with rage.
  False are their hopes and all their struggles vain,
  Their craft must fall and with it all their gain;
  The deaf must hear, the meek their joy increase,
  The poor be glad and their oppression cease.
  See Congress stand in all the power of state,
  Destined, like Cyrus, now to change the fate
  Of Joseph's scattered remnants! long oppressed,
  And bring them home unto a land of rest;
  Beyond the Mississippi's rolling flood,
  A land before ordained by Israel's God!
  Where Zion's city shall in grandeur rise,
  And fill the wondering nations with surprise.
  From north, and south, and east behold them come
  By tens of thousands to their destined home!
  From heaven's king commissioned to proclaim
  Repentance, and baptism in his name,
  His servants to the Gentiles lift their voice,
  While tens of thousands in the sound rejoice,
  And they to Zion bend their joyful way,
  With songs of joy and gladness hail the day.
  The priests and people filled with dread surprise,
  Alarm'd at their approach vindictive rise,
  And lest the power of truth should still prevail,
  They think to cause the prophecy to fail.
  And if by fire and sword the saints they drive,
  While other sects and parties grow and thrive,
  As bloody persecution lifts her thong,
  All parties cry at once, the saints are wrong;
  For if they were the chosen of the Lord,
  He would protect them and fulfil his word.
  O fools, and slow of heart to understand
  The prophecies concerning Zion's land.
  Have ye not read the words of them of old?
  When wrapt in vision clear they have foretold
  The wicked deeds that you of late fulfil'd,
  The scenes that have transpired on Zion's hill?
  He that is truly wise will search and see,
  He that's already blind more blind shall be;
  One truth is clear, the ransom'd shall return,
  Another is, the wicked shall be burned.
  How vain the thoughts that stripes would change the mind,
  Convince the judgment and convert mankind,
  Or cruel scourge of mobs with all their rage,
  Make man believe that this enlightened age
  Needs no repentance, faith, nor nothing more
  Than the religion they enjoyed before.
  If persecution were good argument,
  Why not the Jews make ancient saints repent?
  Paul of all men the hardest to reclaim,
  Stoned, whipt, imprisoned, still remained the same;
  Ten thousand heretics rejoiced in fire,
  While priests for their conversion did aspire.
  'Tis true the Romans many converts made,
  When they the inquisition call'd to aid,
  Perhaps these modern times have made a few,
  Who turn'd from saints to join the drunken crew;
  But persecution spreads the truth abroad,
  Make servants bolder in the cause of God.
  Adds to their numbers, twice ten thousand more,
  And makes them stronger than they were before.
      See men commission'd in Messiah's name,
  Wide o'er the earth the joyful news proclaim;
  While from on high the spirit's power descends
  On all the saints that bow to his commands,
  The deaf shall hear, the blind their sight receive,
  The dumb shall sing with joy, the dying live,
  The lame shall leap, and all mankind behold
  Jehovah's arm made bare, like days of old.
  While his elect to Zion gather home,
  From every tribe and nation see them come.
  See o'er the land where desolation reign'd,
  The saints in peace, enjoy their rights again.
      Rise, crown'd with light, imperial Zion rise,
  Prepare to meet the city from the skies,
  Let Joseph's remnants at thy gates attend,
  Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend,
  While Gentile saints thy spacious courts shall throng,
  And join their voices in the general song;
  No more shall proud oppression drive the hence,
  Nor terror come, for God is your defence
  Come, gentle muse, suspend the joyful lay,
  And o'er the earth let's take a wide survey;
  Soft touch the lyre in slow and mournful strains,
  And sing of scenes where death and sorrow reign;
  See dire commotion seize the nations all,
  While blood and war the stoutest hearts appal,
  Kingdom on kingdom in confusion hurl'd,
  System on system wreck'd throughout the world,
  Sect against sect in bloody strife engage,
  Man against man in single combat rage,
  While widows mourn the loss of husbands slain,
  And virgins for their bridegrooms weep in vain,
  While pining famine wastes their strength by day,
  And pestilence oft seizes on its prey;
  Earthquakes in turn in bellowing fury roar,
  And ocean's waves roll frightful to the shore.
  See through the heavens the sun in sackcloth mourn,
  The moon to blood in frowning anger turns,
  The stars affrighted from their spheres are hurled,
  System on system wreck'd and world on world,
  Earth's whole foundation to the centre nods.
  And nature trembling feels the power of God.
  While Michael sounds the trumpet loud and long,
  See from their graves the saints unnumbered throng;
  See through the air the ocean and the earth,
  Their dust reviving bursting into birth,
  See bone to bone in perfect order fly,
  While sinews, flesh, and skin their place supply;
  And every hair all number'd in its place,
  Immortal beauty does their temples grace.
  Thus formed anew with joy they mount on high,
  And wing their passage to the upper sky;
  Meantime the heavens rend while wrapt in fire,
  The nations see the glory of Messiah!
  With all the saints to earth he bends his way;
  In flames descends, who can abide the day?
  The great, the rich, the mighty loudly call,
  Saying, ye rocks and mountains on us fall.
  But fire consumes the wicked, branch and root,
  And leaves their ashes trodden under foot.
  Behold the Mount of Olives rend in twain,
  While on its top he sets his feet again!
  The islands at his word obedient flee!
  While to the north he rolls the mighty sea!
  Restores the earth in one, as at the first,
  With all its blessings, and removes the curse.

  Lo! Satan bound in chains shall rage no more,
  Nor tempt mankind till thousand years are o'er;
  But perfect peace and harmony extend
  Their wide domain to earth's remotest ends,
  All flesh shall feel the spirit from on high,
  The wolf and lamb in peace together lie.
  The cow and bear shall feed in pastures green,
  While in the shade their young ones shall be seen,
  The lion cease to be a beast of prey,
  And like the harmless ox shall feed on hay;
  The little child secure from harm shall stray
  O'er poisonous serpent's dens shall fearless play;
  In all God's holy Mount shall naught destroy,
  But men for pruning hooks their spears employ;
  Their swords to ploughshares turned, shall till the ground,
  While plenteous harvests flourish all around,
  And earth o'erwhelm'd with knowledge of the Lord,
  Like as the waters fill the mighty flood;
  While king Messiah reigns the king of kings,
  And saints and angels join his praise to sing.
      Hail glorious day, by prophets long foretold;
  And sought by holy men from days of old;
  Who found it not, but readily confessed,
  As pilgrims here, they sought a promised rest.
  Hear Abel groan, as first he yields to death,
  And is succeeded by his brother Seth;
  He dies in faith to wait till Christ appears;
  To rise and reign with him a thousand years.
  Hear Enoch too, the wondrous scene foretell,
  While future glories did his bosom swell;
  The vail was rent, while wonders strange and new
  Before him rose, and opened to his view.
  Long, long he heard the earth in anguish mourn;
  Saw heaven weep, while oft his bowels yearn'd;
  While all eternity, with pain beheld
  The scenes of sorrow which his bosom swell'd:
  He saw the Lamb on Calvary expire,
  While rocks were rent, and cities wrapt in fire;
  He saw him burst the tomb, and mount on high
  Enthroned in glory 'mid the upper sky.
  Obtain'd the promise, he would come again
  To earth, in triumph with his saints to reign;
  His soul was glad with joy he tuned the lyre;
  And sung the glorious reign of king Messiah.
      Hosanna to the Lamb that shall be slain;
  All hail the day when Zion comes again;
  Out of the earth the truth in power he sends,
  While righteousness from heaven shall descend,
  And these shall sweep the earth as with a flood,
  To gather out the purchase of his blood;
  Unto the Zion which he shall prepare;
  And Enoch with his city meet them there,
  When all the ransom'd saints shall join the lay,
  And shout Hosanna in eternal day.
  Wide o'er the earth, the Saviour's name extend;
  And peace o'er all prevail from end to end.
      Thus Enoch sang, while all the heavenly choir;
  Join'd in Hosanna to the king Messiah.
  Noah too, by faith beheld the scene afar;
  And as a type, he did the ark prepare.
  Condemned the world, by water overthrown,
  While to his view the light triumphant shone,
  He gazed with joy on all the glorious scene,
  But mourn'd the darkness that should roll between.
  Abram with joy beheld the day of rest;
  When in his seed all nations should be bless'd,
  And gladly wandered as a pilgrim here;
  And fell asleep to wait till Christ appears—
  In sure and certain hope to rise and reign
  In Canaan's land, a right he had obtained.
  Isaac and Jacob had the glorious view,
  Rejoiced in death and so did Joseph too;
  While patient Job in pain look'd far away,
  Saw his Redeemer in the latter day,
  Stand on the earth, while he himself should rise
  And in the flesh behold him with his eyes.
  Moses and Joshua, Samuel and Isaiah,
  Did each in turn this solemn truth declare;
  While David tuned the lyre in joyful lays,
  Spake of Messiah's reign, and sung his praise.
  Ezekiel, Daniel, Joel, Zachariah,
  And Malachi, have spoken of Messiah;
  When he should set his feet on earth again,
  Burn up the proud, and o'er the nations reign.
  Jesus and Peter, John and James, and Paul,
  The time would fail me here to mention all;
  Who wrapt in vision clear in turn foretold,
  The day of wonders I would fain unfold.
  Lehi, Nephi, Alma and Mosiah,
  Abinedi, who once rejoiced in fire;
  Mormon, Moroni and Ether testified;
  For this they lived, and in this faith they died;
  And all the saints of God in all the earth,
  Down from old Adam to the latest birth;
  And all the vast creations which extend,
  Through boundless space till man can find no end,
  And all the heavenly host around the throne,
  Shall sound his praise in reverential tone.
  Millions unnumber'd at his feet shall fall,
  Hail him as king, and crown him Lord of all.

  When earth's foundation first was laid,
      The heavens in order stood;
  And all the works God's hand had made,
      His word pronounced good.

  But soon the happy scene was changed,
      For man to whom 'twas given,
  To choose the way of life or death,
      Trangressed the law of heaven.

  And thus the evil seed was sown,
      And death through all their race;
  In which creation long has groaned;
      In pain to be released.

  'T was then the scene of love began
      To be revealed on earth;
  By angels borne from heaven to man
      The gospel's heavenly birth.

  The God of heaven shall send his son,
      For man to bleed and die;
  And rise again that man may rise,
      And reign with him on high.

  Repentance and baptism then
      By angels were revealed,
  The holy ghost descending down,
      The heirs of glory seal'd.

  Thus men began to exercise
      Their faith in Jesus' word,
  With joy to embrace the gospel plan,
      And call upon the Lord.

  But many then would not believe,
      But soon forgot the Lord;
  Soon Enoch rose with mighty power,
      Being call'd to preach the word.

  He preach'd repentance and baptized,
      Through all the happy land,
  The people who in Zion dwelt,
      Were of one heart and mind.

  At length the city was not found,
      For God received it up;
  The residue were left to drown,
      And in the prison shut.

  But Noah the Eighth was saved by faith,
      When warn'd an ark to build,
  And seven of his family,
      From whom the earth was fill'd.

  Again the nations left the Lord
      To worship stocks and stones,
  Forgot the wonders of the flood,
      And sunk in darkness down;

  And then again was God reveal'd
      To Abram, his friend,
  Called him to leave his house and home,
      To view a chosen land.

  To thee and to thy seed, he said,
      I give this blessed land,
  Though like the stars for multitude,
      And numerous as the sand.

  But Abraham died a stranger in
      The land 'twas to him given,
  Nor owned a place to set his foot,
      On it beneath the heaven.

  His seed possessed it for a while,
      Became a sinful host;
  And then ten tribes were led away,
      And to our knowledge lost.

  From time to time were led away,
      Of Israel's chosen seed,
  Dispersed o'er islands of the sea,
      As all the prophets read.

  And thus the ages rolled away,
      The appointed time drew near,
  As all the prophets had declared
      That Christ must soon appear.

  John, like a bright and morning star
      Rose to prepare his way,
  Proclaimed repentance, and baptized
      Whoever would obey.

  The son of God at length appeared,
      And was baptized by John,
  The Father sent the spirit down
      And owned him for his son.

  He to his own the gospel preached,
      His own received him not,
  Despised all his mighty works,
      And counted him as naught.

  At length their Lord they crucified,
      While nature stood amazed,
  The solid rocks in sunder rent,
      While Jew and Gentile gazed.

  But soon the third bright morn appeared,
      When, rising from the dead,
  To his disciples he appeared
      And thus unto them said:

  Go ye, and preach in all the world,
      Baptizing in my name,
  He that believes and is baptized
      Salvation shall obtain.

  Then rising from Mount Olivet
      Unto his Father's throne,
  On high to reign until he claims
      The kingdoms for his own.

  His servants then, in mighty power,
      Soon made his gospel known,
  The Jews reject while Gentiles come,
      And glad their Saviour own.

  The Jews dispersed through all the earth,
      Jerusalem trodden down,
  In desolation long has lain,
      And cursed has been the ground.

  The Gentile churches for a while
      Produced the natural fruit,
  Being grafted in the natural vine,
      Partaking of the root.

  But soon the fruit became corrupt,
      By flatteries and lies,
  Teachers in pride were puffed up,
      The simple truth despised.

  Great Babylon at length arose,
      In mighty power to reign,
  Nations and kings became corrupt,
      And many saints were slain.

  The scriptures of their plainness robbed,
      And mystery thrown around,
  That men might sup her golden cup,
      And all true knowledge drown.

  Thus generations long have passed,
      And age on ages rolled,
  The latter day approaching fast,
      Its glories to unfold.

  Our fathers of the Gentile race
      Traversed the western main,
  And found a wide extended land,
      Of valley, hill, and plain.

  This land was peopled with a race,
      Which long had dwelt alone,
  No record nor tradition traced
      Their origin unknown.

  The Lord in mercy has disclosed
      The truth so long concealed,
  The record found beneath the ground
      Has glorious things revealed.

  This is the land which Moses blessed,
      To Joseph and his seed;
  These are the everlasting hills,
      'T was for his bounds decreed.

  Behold the man whose tender heart
      Expanded with a Saviour's love,
  Wide as eternity expands,
      His bowels with compassion move.

  He looks on Zion from afar,
      He hears the captive exiles groan,
  Then leaves his wife and children dear,
      His brethren and his peaceful home.

  And hastens at his Lord's command
      To call his brethren from afar,
  As volunteers for Zion's land,
      That in her sorrows they may share.

  He dare assert her injured cause,
      And sound the trump of freedom when
  They trample on his country's laws,
      And disregard both God and man.

  His distant brethren hear the sound,
      And rise to march to Zion's land;
  Behold the armies gathering round
      Against the powers of hell to stand.

  The little stone begins to roll,
      It shall prevail and never cease,
  But fill the earth from pole to pole
      With freedom, union, love and peace.

  When earth in bondage long had lain,
  And darkness o'er the nations reigned,
  And all man's precepts proved in vain,
  A perfect system to obtain:

  A voice commissioned from on high;
  Hark, hark, it is the angel's cry,
  Descending from the throne of light,
  His garments shining clear and white.

  He comes the gospel to reveal
  In fulness, to the sons of men;
  Lo! from Cumorah's lonely hill,
  There comes a record of God's will!

  Translated by the power of God,
  His voice bears record to his word;
  Again an angel did appear,
  As witnesses do record bear.

  Restored the priesthood, long since lost,
  In truth and power as at the first,
  Thus men commissioned from on high,
  Came forth and did repentance cry.

  Baptizing those who did believe,
  That they the spirit might receive,
  In fullness as in days of old,
  And have one shepherd and one fold.

  Ye Gentile nations, cease your strife,
  And listen to the words of life;
  Turn from your sins with one accord,
  Prepare to meet your coming Lord.

  Let Judah's remnants far and near
  The glorious proclamation hear,
  For Israel and the Gentiles too,
  The way to Zion shall pursue.

  Their voices and their tongues employ
  In songs of everlasting joy;
  The mountains and the hills rejoice,
  Let all creation hear his voice.

  From north to south, from east to west,
  In thee all nations shall be blessed,
  When Abram and his seed shall stand
  Unnumbered on the promised land.

  The solid rocks were rent in twain,
  When Christ the Lamb of God was slain;
  The sun in darkness veiled his face,
  The mountains moved and left their place.

  And all creation groaned in pain
  Till the Messiah rose again;
  When earth did cease her dreadful groans,
  The sun unveiled his face and shone;

  The righteous that were spared alive,
  With joy and wonder did believe,
  And soon together they convened
  Conversing on the things they'd seen:

  Which had been given for a sign,
  When lo, they heard a voice divine,
  And as the heavenly voice they heard
  The Lord of glory soon appeared.

  With joy and wonder all amazed,
  Upon their glorious Lord they gazed,
  And wist not what the vision meant
  But thought it was an angel sent

  While in their midst he smiling stood,
  Proclaimed himself the son of God,
  He said come forth and feel and see,
  That you may witness bear of me.

  And when they all had felt and seen
  Where once the nails and spear had been,
  Hosanna they aloud proclaimed,
  And blessed and praised his holy name,

  He then proceeded to make plain
  His gospel to the sons of men,
  The prophecies he did unfold,
  Yea, things that were in days of old.

  And every thing that should transpire
  Till element should melt with fire,
  Commanding them for to record
  The sayings of their risen Lord;

  That generation should be blessed,
  And with him in his kingdom rest;
  But, O! what scenes of sorrow rolled
  When he the future did unfold!

  Four generations should not pass
  Until they'd turn from righteousness,
  The Nephite nation be destroyed!
  The Lamanites reject his word,

  The gospel taken from their midst,
  The record of their fathers hid,
  They dwindle long in unbelief,
  And ages pass without relief,

  Until the Gentiles from afar,
  Should smite them in a dreadful war,
  And take possession of their land,
  And they should have no power to stand.

  But as their remnants wander far,
  In darkness, sorrow and despair,
  Lo! from the earth their record comes
  To gather Israel to their homes.

  First to the Gentiles 'tis revealed,
  The prophecy must be fulfilled;
  That they may know and understand
  His gospel, and no more contend.

  Hear! O ye Gentiles, and repent,
  To you is this salvation sent;
  God to the Gentiles lifts his hand,
  To gather Israel to their land.

  O who that has search'd in the records of old,
      And read the last scenes of distress;
  Four and twenty were left who with Mormon beheld,
      While their nation lay mouldering to dust.

  The Nephites destroyed, the Lamanites dwelt,
      For ages in sorrow unknown;
  Generations have pass'd, till the Gentiles at last,
      Have divided their lands as their own.

  O, who that has seen o'er the wide spreading plain
      The Lamanites wander forlorn,
  While the Gentiles in pride and oppression divide
      The land they could once call their own.

  And who that believes does not long for the hour
      When sin and oppression shall cease,
  And truth, like the rainbow, display through the shower,
      That bright written promise of peace.

  O, thou afflicted and sorrowful race,
      The days of thy sorrow shall end;
  The Lord has pronounced you a remnant of His,
      Descended from Abram his friend.

  Thy stones with fair colors most glorious shall stand,
      And sapphires all shining around;
  Thy windows of agates in this glorious land,
      And thy gates with carbuncles abound.

  With songs of rejoicing to Zion return,
      And sorrow and sighing shall flee;
  The powers of heaven among you come down.
      And Christ in the centre will be.

  And then all the watchmen shall see eye to eye,
      When the Lord shall bring Zion again;
  The wolf and the kid down together shall lie,
      And the lion shall dwell with the lamb.

  The earth shall be filled with knowledge of God,
      And nothing shall hurt or destroy,
  And these are the tidings we have to proclaim,—
      Glad tidings abounding with joy.

  Hark! listen to the gentle breeze,
      O'er hill or valley, plain or grove,
  It whispers in the ears of man,
      The voice of freedom, peace and love.

  The flowers that bloom o'er all the land,
  In harmony and order stand,
  Nor hatred, pride or envy know,
  In freedom, peace and love they grow.

  The birds their numerous notes resound,
  In songs of praise the earth around,
  Their voices and their tongues employ,
  In songs of freedom, love and joy.

  And then behold the crystal stream,
  With multitudes of fishes teem;
  In silent joy they live and move,
  In freedom, union, peace and love.

  The mountains high, the rivers clear,
  Where heaven sheds her dews and tears,
  In silence, or with gentle roar,
  The God of love and peace adore.

  The earth, and air, and sea, and sky,
  The holy spirit from on high,
  And angels who above do reign,
  Cry peace on earth, good will to men.

  But most of all a Saviour's love,
  Was manifested from above,
  He died and rose to life again,
  Our freedom, love and peace to gain.

  But man,—vile man, alone seems lost,
  With hatred, pride and envy tossed,
  His hardened soul does seldom move,
  In freedom, union, peace or love.

  For him, let all creation mourn;
  O'er him did Enoch's bosom yearn,
  Till he was promised from above,
  A day of freedom, peace and love.

  This earth shall be a blessed place,
      To saints celestial given;
  Where Christ again shall show his face,
  With the redeemed of Adam's race,
      In clouds descend from heaven.

  Yes, when he comes on earth again,
      The wicked burn as stubble;
  Thus all his enemies are slain,
  And o'er the nations he shall reign,
      And end the scenes of trouble.

  The trump of war is heard no more,
      But all their strife is ended;
  While Jesus shall all things restore
  To order, as they were before,
      And peace o'er all extended.

  Sing, O ye heavens! let earth rejoice,
      While saints shall flow to Zion,
  And rear the temple of his choice,
  And in its courts unite their voice,
      In praise to Judah's Lion.

  Hosanna to the reign of peace!
      The day so long expected;
  When earth shall find a full release,
  The groanings of creation cease,
      The righteous well protected.

  Come, sound his praise in joyful strains.
      Who dwell beneath his banner;
  He'll bind old Satan fast in chains,
  And wide o'er earth's extended plains,
      The nations shout Hosanna.

  Lo, far in the realms of Missouri,
  When peace crowns the meek and the lowly,
  The loud storms of envy and folly
      May roll all their billows in vain.

  The wicked, with evil intention,
  May rouse all their powers of invention,
  With lying, intrigue and contention,
      Their end will be sorrow and pain.

  The saints, crowned with songs of rejoicing,
  To Zion shall flow from all nations,
  Escaping the great conflagration,
      They find out the regions of peace.

  Though scattered and driven asunder.
  As exiles and pilgrims to wander,
  A scene on which angels do ponder,
      Yet Jesus will bring their release.

  When empires of Babel shall tumble,
  Their fabrics in ashes shall crumble,
  The Lord will provide for the humble
      A city of refuge and peace.

  There, there the Lord will deliver
  The soul of each faithful believer,
  And save them forever and ever,
      And sorrow and sighing shall cease.

  The saints for those blessings aspire,
  And wait with exceeding desire,
  Till earth shall be cleansed by fire,
      And they their inheritance gain.

  Hosanna, such blessings inspire
  A song from the heavenly choir,
  They sing of the coming Messiah,
      From heaven in glory to reign.

  Another day has fled and gone,
      The sun declines in western skies,
  The birds retired, have ceased their song,
      Let ours in pure devotion rise.

  The moon her splendid course resumes,
      She sheds her light o'er land and sea,
  The gentle dews in soft perfumes
      Fall sweetly o'er each herb and tree.

  While here in meditation sweet,
      Those happy hours I call to mind,
  When with the saints I oft have met,
      Our hearts in pure devotion joined.

  Those friends afar I call to mind,
      When shall we meet again below;
  Their hearts affectionate and kind,
      How did they soothe my grief and woe.

  As flow'rets in their brightest bloom,
      Are withered by the chilling blast,
  So man's fond hopes are like a dream,
      His days how fleet, how swift they pass.

  But cease this melancholy moan,
      Nor sigh for those who will not come,
  For Israel surely will return
      To Zion and Jerusalem.

  There is a source of pure delight
      For ever shall support my heart:
  For Zion's land's revealed to sight,
      Where saints will meet no more to part.

  How fleet the precious moments roll,
      How soon the harvest will be o'er:
  The watchmen seek their final rest,
      And lift a warning voice no more.

  Another year has roll'd away
      And took its thousands to the tomb;
  Its sorrows and its joys are fled,
      To hasten on the general doom.

  And eighteen hundred thirty five.
      Is rolling swiftly on the wing,
  And soon the leaves and tendrils thrive;
      A token of returning spring.

  The fulness of the gospel shines
      With glorious and resplendent rays;
  The earth and heav'ns show forth their signs.
      As tokens of the latter days.

  Ye chosen twelve, to you are given,
      The keys of this last ministry—
  To every nation under heaven,
      From land to land, from sea to sea.

  First to the Gentiles sound the news
      Throughout Columbia's happy land,
  And then before it reach the Jews,
      Prepare on Europe's shores to stand.

  Let Europe's towns and cities hear
      The gospel tidings angels bring;
  The Gentile nations far and near,
      Prepare their hearts His praise to sing.

  India's and Afric's sultry plains
      Must hear the tidings as they roll—
  Where darkness, death and sorrow reign,
      And tyranny has long controlled.

  Listen, ye islands of the sea—
      For every isle shall hear the sound:
  Nations and tongues before unknown,
      Though long since lost, shall soon be found.

  And then again shall Asia hear,
      Where angels first the news proclaimed:
  Eternity shall record bear,
      And earth repeat the loud, Amen.

  The nations catch the pleasing sound,
      And Jew and Gentile swell the strain,
  Hosanna o'er the earth resound,
      Messiah then will come to reign.

  Farewell, my kind and faithful friend—
      The partner of my early youth,
  While from my home my steps I bend,
      To warn mankind and teach the truth.

  How oft in silent evening mild,
      I to some lonely place retire—
  Thy love and kindness call to mind,
      Then lift a voice in humble prayer.

  O Lord, extend thine arms of love,
      Around the partner of my heart,
  For thou hast spoken from above,
      And called me with my all to part.

  Preserve her soul in perfect peace,
      From sickness, sorrow and distress,
  Until our pilgrimage shall cease.
      And we on Zion's hill shall rest.

  How gladly would my soul retire
      With thee, to spend a peaceful life,
  In some sequestered humble vale,
      Far from the scenes of noise and strife.

  Where men should grieve our souls no more,
      Nor rage of sin disturb our peace;
  Our troubles, toils and sufferings o'er,
      Their lies and persecutions cease.

  But lo! the harvest wide extends—
      The fields are white o'er all the plain—
  The tares in bundles must be bound,
      While we with care secure the grain.

  Shall we repine when Jesus calls,
      Or count the sacrifice too great,
  To spend our lives as pilgrims here,
      Or loose them for the gospel's sake?

  When Jesus Christ has done the same,
      Without a place to lay his head,
  A pilgrim on the earth he came,
      Until for us his blood was shed.

  Shall we behold the nations doomed
      To sword and famine, blood and fire,
  Yet not the least exertion make,
      But from the scene in peace retire?

  No; while his love for me extends,
      The pattern makes my duty plain—
  I'll sound to earth's remotest ends,
      His gospel to the sons of men!

  Farewell, my kind and faithful friend,
      Until we meet on earth again—
  For soon our pilgrimage shall end,
      And the Messiah come to reign.

  O freedom, must thy spirit now withdraw
  From earth, returning to its native heaven,
  There to dwell, till armed with sevenfold vengeance
  It comes again to earth with king Messiah,
  And all his marshalled hosts in glory bright,
  To tread the winepress of Almighty God,
  And none escape?—ye powers of heaven forbid;—
  Let freedom linger still on shores of time,
  And in the breasts of thine afflicted saints,
  Let freedom find a peaceful retirement,—
  A place of rest;—till o'er the troubled earth—
  Mercy, justice, and eternal truth,
  While journeying hand in hand to exalt the humble
  And debase the proud, shall find some nation
  Poor, oppressed, afflicted and despised,
  Cast out and trodden under foot of tyrants
  Proud, the hiss, the bye-word, and the scorn of knaves:—
  And there let freedom's spirit wide prevail.
  And grow, and flourish—'mid the humble poor,
  Exhalted and enriched by virtue,
  Knowledge, temperance, and love—till o'er the earth
  Messiah comes to reign;—the proud consumed.
  No more oppress the poor.—
  Let Freedom's eagle then, (forthcoming, like
  The Dove from Noah's Ark) on lofty pinions soar,
  And spread its wide domain from end to end,
  O'er all the vast expanse of this wide earth,—
  While freedom's Temple rears its lofty spires
  Amid the skies, and on its bosom rests!
  A cloud by day and flaming fire by night!!
      But stay, my spirit, though thou feign would'st soar
  On high; mid scenes of glory, peace and joy;
  From bondage free, and bid thy jail farewell:—
  Stop,—wait awhile,—let patience have her perfect work,
  Return again to suffering scenes through which
  The way to glory lies; and speak of things
  Around thee,—thou art in prison still.
      But spring has now returned, the wintry blasts
  Have ceased to howl through my prison crevices.
      The soft and gentle breezes of the south
  Are whistling gayly past; and incense sweet
  On zephyr's wing, with fragrance fills the air,
  Wafted from blooming flowrets of the spring;
  While round my lonely dungeon oft is heard
  Melodious strains as if the birds of spring
  In anthems sweet conspired to pity and
  Console the drooping spirits there confined.
      All things around me show that days, and weeks,
  And months have fled, although to me not mark'd
  By sabbaths—and but faintly mark'd by dim
  And sombre rays of light alternate mid
  The gloom of overhanging night which still
  Pervades my drear and solitary cell.
  Where now those helpless ones I left to mourn?
  Have they perished? no.—what then!—has some
  Elijah call'd and found them in the last
  Extreme, and multiplied their meal and oil?
  Yes, verily,—the Lord has fill'd the hearts
  Of his poor saints with everlasting love,
  Which, in proportion to their poverty,
  Increased with each increasing want, till all
  Reduced unto the widow's mite and then
  Like her, their living they put in, and thus
  O'erflowed the treasury of the Lord with more
  Abundant stores than all the wealth of kings.
  And thus supported, fed, and clothed; and moved
  From scenes of sorrow to a land of peace—
  They live!—and living still they do rejoice
  In tribulation deep:
  Well knowing their redemption draweth nigh!

  Boast not, O proud Niagara! although
  Thou mayest withstand the ravages of time,
  While countless millions swept away with all
  Their mighty works, are lost in following years:
  Yet there is a voice to speak, long and loud!
  'Tis Michael's trump, whose mighty blast shall rend
  Thy rocks, and bow thy lofty mountains in the dust.
  Before whose awful presence thy waters
  Blush in retiring modesty; and in
  Respectful silence thou shalt stand, and listening,
  Wonder and admire, while thunders roll
  Majestic round the sky;—the lightnings play,—
  The mountains sink,—the valleys rise,—till earth,
  Restored to its original—receives
  Its final rest, and groans and sighs no more.
  Till then weep on, and let thy voice ascend,
  In solemn music to the skies;—it is
  A funeral dirge,—thou weepest o'er the miseries
  Of a fallen world—in anguish deep.

  See nature bursting into life and bloom:
  Joyous, it rises from its wintry tomb,
  Decked in pure robes of purple, white, or green:
  Perfumed with incense sweet—O lovely scene!
  Melodious sounds, with music soft and sweet,
  Thrill through the air—thy joyous presence greet.
  Behold, O Mary! and remember too,
  There is a spring to bloom for me and you;—
  We, like the spring, shall burst the sullen gloom.
  All clothed in white—eternally to bloom.
  We too, will join the choir his praise to sing,
  And hail the welcome of Eternal Spring.

  Lift up your heads, ye scattered saints,
      Redemption draweth nigh;
  Our Saviour hears the orphans' plaints';
      The widow's mournful cry.

  The blood of those who have been slain
      For vengeance cries aloud:
  Nor shall its cries ascend in vain,
      For vengeance on the proud.

  The signs in heaven and earth appear;
      And blood, and smoke, and fire;
  Men's hearts are failing them for fear;
      Redemption's drawing nigher.

  Earthquakes are bellowing 'neath the ground,
      And tempests through the air;—
  The trumpet's blast with fearful sound,
      Proclaims the alarm of war.

  The saints are scattered to and fro,
      Through all the earth abroad;
  The gospel trump again to blow,
      And then behold their God.

  Rejoice, ye servants of our God,
      Who to the end endure;
  Rejoice, for great is your reward,
      And your defence is sure.

  Although this body should be slain
      By cruel, wicked hands;
  I'll praise my God in higher strains,
      And on Mount Zion stand.

  Glory to God, ye saints rejoice,
      And sigh and groan no more;
  But listen to the spirit's voice;
      Redemption's at the door.

  This is the day that gave me birth
      In eighteen hundred seven;
  From worlds unseen I came to earth,
      Far from my native heaven.

  Thirty and two long years have pass'd,
      To grief and sorrow given;
  And now to crown my woes at last
      I am confined in prison.

  'Tis not for crimes that I have done
      That to my foes I'm given,
  But to the world I am unknown,
      And my reward's in heaven.

  What troubled scenes may yet ensue
      To strew my path with sorrow,
  Is not for me to know, 'tis true,
      I boast not of to-morrow.

  One thing is sure, this life at best
      Is like a troubled ocean;
  I often wish myself at rest
      From all its dire commotion.

  But let its troubled bosom heave,
      Its surges beat around me;
  To truth, eternal truth, I cleave,
      Its floods can never drown me.

  Torn from our friends and captive led,
      'Mid armed legions bound in chains,
  That peace for which our fathers bled
      Is gone, and dire confusion reigns.

  Zion, our peaceful happy home,
      Where oft we joined in praise and prayer,
  A desolation has become,
      And grief and sorrow linger there.

  Her virgins sigh, her widows mourn,
      Her children for their parents weep;
  In chains her priests and prophets groan,
      While some in deaths cold arms do sleep.

  Exultingly her savage foes
      Now ravage, steal and plunder, where
  A virgin's, tears, a widow's woes,
      Became their song of triumph there.

  How long, O Lord, wilt thou forsake
      The saints who tremble at thy word?
  Awake, O arm of God, awake—
      And teach the nations thou art God.

  Descend with all thy holy throng,
      The year of thy redeem'd bring near;
  Haste—haste the day of vengeance on—
      Bid Zion's children dry their tears.

  Deliver, Lord, thy captive saints,
      And comfort those who long have mourn'd;
  Bid Zion cease her dire complaints,
      And all creation cease to groan.

  Here nature too, her grandest works display;
  Sublimest themes inspire the Poet's lays,
  As if creative power in skill progressed,
  As onward still it moved towards the west.

  Till here it finished with a master hand
  Its mightiest works—to excel all other lands.
  In awful majesty our mountains rise,
  O'erlook the clouds, and tower amid the skies,
  Their lofty summits bid defiance bold,
  They fear no rival heights in older worlds.

  'Tis true Himmaleh, (Asia's highest peak,)
  Has dared with Chimborazo to compete;
  But then our rocky summits—scarce explored
  Some nameless rival heights may yet afford;
  Whose towering pride shall seize the starry crown,
  And cast Himmaleh, humbled, to the ground.

  Our proud volcanoes, belching forth their flames,
  With smoke and lava, overwhelm the plains;
  Their lightnings play—their awful thunders roar,
  Convulse the earth and sea from shore to shore.
  Among them Cotopaxi's awful voice
  Would silence Etna,—drown Vesuvius' noise;
  While Europe wondering listens to admire
  The power superior of Columbia's fires.

  Our lakes, like inland seas expanding wide,
  Have not a parallel on earth beside.
  Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan,
  And vast Superior form the mighty plan,
  Their waves like oceans wash the verdant shore,
  In western wilds too boundless to explore.

  Can Europe, Africa, or Asia boast
  A lake compared with these in all their coasts?
  Our rivers too, pursue their lengthened way,
  From far off mountains to the distant sea,
  Through fertile vales,—the flowery meads along,
  And chiming still their gently murmuring song;
  Receiving grateful tribute as they run.
  From thousand streams all mingling into one.

  Lo! wild Missouri's waters have their source
  In unknown regions to the west and north,
  From limpid lakes or from the mountain snows,
  From thousand springing streams its current flows;
  Mid vast prairies, winds its lengthened way,
  Two thousand miles where savage hunters stray,
  Then quits its wildly wanderings to receive
  The busy hum of commerce on its wave.

  Two thousand more its rapid current flows,
  Receiving still large rivers as it goes,
  Young Empires flourish all along its tide,
  And joyous cities rise on every side.
  What is the boasted Nile compared with this?
  Its magnitude is lost in nothingness,

  Asia and Europe's longest, proudest streams
  'Longside Missouri's tide how short they seem!
  Our cataracts too, in grandeur far outvie,
  The noblest waterfalls beyond the sea.
  See grand Niagara's stream majestic glide,
  The venturous steamer floating on its tide:
  Its limpid waters draining half a world,
  Into the yawning gulf are headlong hurled,
  And for a moment lose the light of day,—
  Dash on the rocks—then rise in misty spray.

  The playful sunbeams trembling kiss its tears,
  And from this loved embrace the bow appears;
  Commingling colors of the liveliest hue
  From purple red, to yellow, pink, and blue.
  These mingling join the sportive, airy dance,
  Their beauty half concealed from vulgar glance;
  Now veil'd in clouds—now bursting to the view
  In blushing modesty, the dance renew;
  While music rolls in awful, solemn sound,
  Heard in the distance, many leagues around.

  Or turn to Tequendama's awful steep,
  See wild Bogota's waters boldy leap,
  Down from the lofty Andes' heights of snow,
  To flowery plains, where spring's soft breezes blow:
  'Mid scenes of majesty unrival'd stand,
  And view the wonders of Columbia's land.
  Our climate stretching far through every zone,
  Presents variety elsewhere unknown.
  Lo! in the North eternal winter reigns,
  And binds the ocean in his icy chains;
  Locked in the stupor of his cold embrace
  All nature seems to sleep:—yet here we trace
  Some signs of life,—of joy, and happiness,
  Some icy cottage of domestic bliss,
  Where love sits smiling, (from the blast secure)
  In native modesty,—with soul as pure,
  And chaste, and lovely, as their virgin snows,
  While to the chase her lord, or lover goes;
  And if per chance he takes a Bear, or Seal,
  Amid the dangers of the icy field,
  Returns in triumph to his humble cot
  Where lost in love his troubles are forgot.
  Our northern states present a clime severe,
  Where wintry blasts are howling half the year;
  But spring arising from its wintry tomb,
  Renew'd in freshness sheds a sweet perfume;
  Decked in pure robes of purple, white or green,
  Adorned with flowrets bright:—O, lovely scene!
  Melodious sounds of music, soft and sweet
  Thrill through the air,—it's joyous welcome greet.
  There autumn's richest blessings crown the year,
  And there the rose on beauty's cheek appears.

  Our southern climes for mildness may compare,
  With Italy, and France, whose gentle air
  Became the subject of the Poet's dream,
  Or breathed in music soft, the lover's theme.
  There rapturous passions kindle in the soul
  Their warmest fires,—impatient of control:
  There love's soft graces beam in woman's eye
  And beauty's cheek is tinged with paler dye.
  There balmy sweets perfume the breath of morn,
  And shady groves the noonday walks adorn;
  While gentle zephyrs kiss the blushing flowers,
  And healthful breezes cool the evening hours.
  Our soil, with Eden's garden would compare,
  Nay more,—forbidden fruit was growing there;
  But here the trees of life and knowledge stand reveal'd,
  And free to all,—no poison is conceal'd
  In wisdom's fruit,—Our Eves may satisfy
  Their souls with knowledge here; nor fear to die.

  Missouri, a country how sad and how low,
      How fallen from glory, from freedom, from pride,
  O, would that oblivion its mantle would throw
      O'er thee, and the depth of thy wickedness hide.

  Thou should'st never rejoice—think not of the day
      When Columbia for freedom first struggled so bold,
  When thousands assembled in battle array,
      The star-spangled banner of freedom unfurled;

  Think not of the patriots that bled in her cause,
      Who met all undaunted the foemen's dark brow,
  They gave to their country beneficent laws
      Of right and protection but where are they now?

  Disturb not the rest of the free and the brave,
      Enshrined deep in honor they sweetly repose,
  They swore that the banner of freedom should wave
      O'er their dear native land regardless of foes,

  But thou, O Missouri, hast trampled on all
      That free men would fight for or patriots feel
  O thou queen of the west how great is thy fall—
      Thy wounds deep and deadly no balsam can heal.

  Let us fly, let us fly to the land where the light
      Of Liberty's stars still illumine each spot,
  Where the cottager's smile for ever is bright,
      And the chains of a tyrant encircle us not.

  In the fair Illinois the eagle's bold wing
      Is stretched o'er a people determined and free,
  And the shouts of her sons in melody ring
      O'er her bower covered groves and fine prairie.

  This morning in silence I ponder and mourn,
  O'er the scenes that have passed no more to return,
  How vast are the labors, the troubles and fears,
  Of eight hundred millions who've toiled through the year.

  How many ten thousands were slain by their foes,
  While widows and orphans have mourn'd o'er their woes,
  While pestilence, famine and earthquakes appear,
  And signs in the heavens throughout the past year.

  How many been murder'd and plunder'd and robb'd,
  How many oppressed and driven by mobs,
  How oft have the heaven's bedewed with their tears
  The earth o'er the scenes they beheld the past year.

  But the day-star has dawn'd o'er the land of the bless'd,
  The first beams of morning, the morning or rest;
  When cleans'd from pollution the earth shall appear
  As the garden of Eden, and peace crown the year.

  Then welcome the new year, I hail with delight,
  The season approaching with time's rapid flight;
  While each fleeting moment brings near and more near,
  The day, long expected, the great thousand years.

  I praise and adore the eternal I Am;
  Hosanna, hosanna to God and the Lamb,
  Who order the seasons that glide o'er the spheres,
  And crown with such blessings, each happy new year.

  Adieu to the city, where long I have wandered,
      To tell them of judgments and warn them to flee;
  How often in sorrow, their woes I have pondered:
      Perhaps in affliction, they'll think upon me.

  With a tear of compassion, in silence retiring,
      The last ray of hope for your safety expiring;
  A feeling of pity this bosom inspiring—
      Sing this lamentation and think upon me.

  How often at evening your halls have resounded
      With th' pure testimony of Jesus, so free;
  While the meek were rejoicing, the proud were confounded,
      The poor had the gospel;—they'll think upon me.

  When Empires shall tremble at Israel returning,
      And earth shall be cleans'd by the Spirit of burning;
  When proud men shall perish, and Priests with their learning,—
      Sing this lamentation, and think upon me.

  When the Union is severed, and liberty's blessings
      Withheld from the sons of Columbia, once free;
  When bloodshed and war, and famine d'stress them,
      Remember the warning! and think upon me.

  When this mighty city shall crumble to ruin,
      And sink as a millstone, the merchants undoing;
  The ransom'd, the highway of Zion pursuing,—
      Sing this lamentation, and think upon me.

  The joys of home I once have tasted,
      All its pleasures called my own;
  Friendship's purest pleasures graced it,
      But they're gone,—I'm left alone,

  Now no more that smile of gladness
      Welcomes me at my return;
  But a lonely, solemn sadness:
      Oh she's gone,—I'm left alone!

  Oft when clouds of care and trouble,
      Like a tempest o'er me roll'd,
  A look, a word, an act of kindness,
      Served to calm my troubled soul.

  When by pain and sickness wasted,
      Oft she lingered near my bed;
  Fed me, nursed me as an angel,
      Washed my feet or bathed my head.

  When to western wilds I wandered,
      Rear'd in solitude my cot;
  Clear'd away the gloomy forest,—
      She with flowers adorned the spot.

  When by ruthless mobs was driven,
      Wounded, bleeding, from my home,
  Wandering in a land of strangers,
      Pilgrim like she with me roamed.

  When in distant climes I wander'd,
      To bear glad tidings to mankind;
  She shared my toils and travels gladly,
      Or would consent to stay behind.

  Returning from a distant journey,
      She always met me with a smile;
  Wash'd my feet and changed my raiment,
      And bade me rest from all my toil.

  But now alone I'm left to wander,
      From land to land, from sea to sea;
  And none except my only offspring
      Will scarce inquire what comes of me.

  And e'n to him I'll seem a stranger,
      While he is reared by other hands;
  He'll hardly feel I am his father,
      When I return from distant lands.

  What is it then for which I linger,
      Still in this dark and dreary waste?
  Where nothing centers my affection,
      Where others' joys I cannot taste.

  If I must still consent to tarry,
      'Twill be to bear another's grief:
  To save mankind from sin and sorrow,
      And bring the broken heart relief.

  To comfort those who mourn in Zion,
      And bid ten thousand others come;
  Where the widow, orphan, virgin,
      And the poor may find a home.

  Creation speaks with awful voice—
      Hark! 'tis a universal groan
  Re-echoes through the vast extent
      Of worlds unnumbered called to mourn.

  For sickness, sorrow, pain and death,
      With awful tyranny have reigned;
  While all eternity has shed
      Her tears of sorrow o'er the slain.

  But hark, again; a voice is heard,
      Resounding through the sullen gloom;
  A mighty conquerer has appear'd,
      And rose triumphant from the tomb.

  No longer let creation mourn;
      Ye sons of sorrow, dry your tears;
  Life—life—eternal life is ours,
      Dismiss your doubts, dispel your fears.

  The King shall soon in clouds descend,
      With all the heav'nly hosts above;
  The dead shall rise and hail their friends,
      And always dwell with those they love.

  No tears, no sorrow, death or pain,
      Shall e'er be known to enter there;
  But perfect peace, immortal bloom,
      Shall reign triumphant ev'ry where!

  Keep these few lines till time shall end,
  In memory of your absent friend;
  Who wanders o'er life's boisterous wave,
  The meek, the humble poor to save.

  While I endure I'll spend my breath
  In prayer for those who love the truth.
  In distant lands I'll call to mind,
  My true and faithful friends so kind.

  Let these few lines adorn the place
  Where you retire to seek his grace;
  Then lift your voice in humble prayer,
  For him whose lines are hanging there.

  On the shores of Ontario I'm now doom'd to wander.
  A pilgrim in exile, a stranger I roam,
  While the prince and the beggar, the wise and the simple,
  In palace or cottage can each find a home.
  The foxes have holes and the birds they have nests,
  And all but a preacher has somewhere to rest.

  Farewell, ye servants of the Lord,
  To whom we oft have preach'd the word;
  May you improve the wisdom given,
  And lead ten thousand souls to heaven.

  Farewell, ye saints of latter days,
  With whom we've met in prayer and praise,
  In whose kind hearts the truth has shone,
  By which we're gathered all in one.

  Farewell kind friends, whose hearts are true
  We can no longer stay with you;
  Arise—the voice of truth obey,
  O come and wash your sins away.

  Farewell to all whose stubborn wills
  Bind them in chains of darkness still:
  Our voice no longer you shall hear,
  Till Jesus shall in clouds appear:

  Then you shall see, and hear, and know,
  What you rejected here below.
  Though you may sink in endless pain,
  Yet truth eternal will remain.

  An angel of glory from heaven descended,
  While his power and glory enlightened the earth;
  With a voice strong and mighty, his cry was extended,
  Babylon is fallen and hushed in her mirth;

  The dwelling of devils and every foul spirit,
  The cage of uncleanness and of hateful birds.
  All nations had tasted her wine and were drunken,
  But now she is fallen the angel brings word;

  Her merchants were great men, and through her abundance,
  They long had wax'd rich in her traffic though vain,
  But now she is fallen,—is fallen,—is fallen,
  Her riches and glory have ended in pain;

  Her plagues in one day—death, mourning and famine,
  And flame shall devour her and burn her withal;
  The kings of the earth at the smoke of her burning,
  Shall stand afar off and lament her sad fall.

  Her merchants shall weep for their traffic is ended,
  Their gold and their silver, their stones and their pearls,
  Their linen and purple, their silk and their scarlet,
  And all things that wealth could procure in the world.

  Their vessels of ivory and brass, iron and marble,
  And cinnamon and odours, frankincense and wine.
  And oil and fine flour, wheat, beasts, sheep and horses,
  And chariots and slaves, and the souls of mankind.

  Rejoice, O thou Heaven! ye holy apostles,
  And prophets for God hath avenged you withal,
  For like a great millstone doth sink in the ocean,
  E'en so on a sudden shall Babylon fall;

  The voice of musicians, the harp and the pipers,
  And trumpets and organs no longer shall sound,
  No craftsmen, mechanic or workman whatever,
  Within thy dominion shall ever be found;

  No more shall the sound of a millstone be heard,
  The light of a candle no more in thee shine,
  The voice of the bridegroom and bride ever silent,
  Darkness and sorrow, and death shall be thine.

  As down in a lone dungeon with darkness o'er-spread,
  In silence and sorrow I made my lone bed,
      While far from my prison my friends had retired,
      And joy from this bosom had almost expired.

  From all that was lovely constrained for to part,
  From wife and from children so dear to my heart;
      While foes were exulting, and friends far away,
      In half broken slumbers all pensive I lay.

  I thought upon Zion—her sorrowful doom:—
  I thought on her anguish—her trouble and gloom.
      How for years she had wandered, a captive forlorn,
      Cast out and afflicted, and treated with scorn.

  I thought on the time when some five years ago,
  Twelve hundred from Jackson were driven by foes,
      While two hundred houses to ashes were burned;—
      Our flourishing fields to a desert were turned.

  I remembered these crimes still unpunished remained,
  And the like oft repeated—again, and again,
      From counties adjoining, compelled to remove,
      We purchased in Caldwell, Prairie and Grove.

  And there 'mid the wild flowers that bloomed o'e the plain,
  Our rights and our freedom we thought to maintain:
      Nor dreamed that oppression would drive us from thence,
      The laws of our country we claimed for defence

  But soon as kind autumn rewarded our toil,
  And plenty around us began for to smile,
      Our foes were assembled—being tempted with gain;
      To ravage and plunder, and drive us again.

  When many were driven, and plundered, and robb'd.
  And some had been murdered by this dreadful mob,—
      When cries for redress and protection were vain,
      We arose in our strength our own rights to maintain.

  The mob soon dispersed, to the Rulers appealed,
  Saying, lend us your aid, and the Mormons will yield,
      For surely they never were known to resist
      A mob when commissioned by Rulers and Priests.

  This soon was considered by far the best plan;
  And orders were issued for ten thousand men,
      Including the Wilsons, and Gillums, of course,
      And all the mob forces, for better, for worse.

  These soon were forthcoming, in dreadful array!
  Some painted like Indians, all armed for the fray!
      The Mormons soon yielded without the first fire,
      And the mobers accomplished their utmost desire.

  Some females were ravished—and cattle and grain
  Became a free booty—and one pris'ner slain.
      Some twenty or thirty were murdered outright,
      And ten thousand others were BANISHED THE STATE!

  By what LAW of the Statute to me is unknown;
  But it must be by law all these great things were done;
      For the next Legislature the expense to defray,
      Voted two hundred thousand the soldiers to pay.

  To resist THIS oppression—THESE excellent laws,
  Was murder! and treason!! (in technical clause,)
      So while women and children were driven away
      Their husbands and fathers in prison must stay.

  So now to the jury and judge I submit;
  I'm not learned in such laws,—they may hang or acquit—
      But though they should hang me, or keep me in jail,
      The spirit of Freedom and Truth will prevail.

  The chains are rent, the dungeon's gloom
      No more these active limbs confine.
  I rise as from the dreary tomb,
      Where long in prison I repined.

  I mount—I fly—I haste away,
      Buoyed, as it were, on angel's wings;
  O home! O friends! O liberty!—
      O God of strength, thy praise I'll sing.

  Hosanna now in highest strains,
      Glory to God and to the Lamb,
  Hosanna to the king who reigns
      In heaven and earth—the great I Am.

  While clouds hung lowering on their bosoms,
  And their tall summits high above
  The misty vapors stood in awful pride,
  And still serenely smiled amid clear skies,
  And all the splendor of the morning sun.

  Earth with a tremendous groan,
  Did for a dying Jesus mourn.

  Farms, and fields and meadows gay,
  While in the distance far away,
  The flocks in sportive groups assembled,
  Limpid lakes in sunbeams trembled,
  Huts with rural scenes surrounded,
  Mansions fair and bright abounded;
  While zephyrs sweet perfumed the air,
  From roses, pinks, and lilies fair;
  While far o'er eastern hills we view
  The briny ocean's distant blue,
  And mark its waves in distance dwindle,
  Till with the heavens they seem to mingle.
  When all at once the scenes around us
  Are veiled from view, and clouds surround us,
  And far beneath, and high above,
  Swift through the air the vapors move.

  Animate and inanimate shall cease to be;
  And no more place be found for Heaven, Earth, or Sea.—

  On the plains of Judea me thinks I hear
  The melting strains of the lonely shepherd's
  Midnight song, as it echoes among the hills
  And vales, and dies away in the distance.
  Its heavenly melody betokens
  A theme of joy such as the sons of earth
  Have seldom heard,—some heavenly theme as if
  The choirs of angels—mingling their music
  With the sons of earth, conspired to celebrate
  Some new event—some jubilee of rest—
  Some grand release from servitude and woe.
  But see—ah see! the opening heavens around
  Them shine; a glorious train of angels bright,
  Ascending, fill the air:—it is indeed
  A more than mortal theme. But hark again—
  Me thinks I understand the words,—they
  Celebrate the birth of king Messiah,
  The mighty prince who soon shall conquer death
  With all his legions, and reign triumphant
  Over all, as king of kings, and Lord of lords.
  Their chorus ends with peace on earth, good will
  To men. O monster death I now behold
  Thy conqueror! Jesus of Nazareth—
  The babe of Bethlehem—the son of God.