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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF 'CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c.
| No. 450. New Series. | SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 1852. | Price 1½d. |
INVOCATION.
Creator of the universal heart
In nature's bosom beating!
Life of all forms, which are but as a part
Of Thee, thy life repeating!
Soul of the earth, thy sanctity impart
Where human souls are meeting!
In nature's bosom beating!
Life of all forms, which are but as a part
Of Thee, thy life repeating!
Soul of the earth, thy sanctity impart
Where human souls are meeting!
Bright as the first faint beam in mercy shewn
Unto the barren-sighted,
Where, on the yet unbroken darkness thrown,
A sunny ray hath lighted,
The glory of thy presence streameth down
On us, the world-benighted.
Unto the barren-sighted,
Where, on the yet unbroken darkness thrown,
A sunny ray hath lighted,
The glory of thy presence streameth down
On us, the world-benighted.
To us the shadow of the earth is given,
And ours the lower cloud;
But though along its pathways tempest-driven,
Our hearts shall not be bowed,
While yet our eyes unto the stars of heaven
We lift, and pray aloud!
And ours the lower cloud;
But though along its pathways tempest-driven,
Our hearts shall not be bowed,
While yet our eyes unto the stars of heaven
We lift, and pray aloud!
Not with the prayers of long ago we pray,
With red raised hand beseeching—
Not with the war-voice of our elder clay,
With the mammoth's bones now bleaching—
Not for the mortal victories of a day,
But—for the Spirit's teaching!
With red raised hand beseeching—
Not with the war-voice of our elder clay,
With the mammoth's bones now bleaching—
Not for the mortal victories of a day,
But—for the Spirit's teaching!
Be Words of Light alone our javelins hurled,
While Truth wings every dart:
Oh, welcome, then, the legions of a world!—
But ours no warrior's part;
The ensigns we would bear are passions furled—
Love, and a child's young heart!
While Truth wings every dart:
Oh, welcome, then, the legions of a world!—
But ours no warrior's part;
The ensigns we would bear are passions furled—
Love, and a child's young heart!