My dove! the Bridegroom speaks to whom?
Whom thinkest thou, meaneth He?
Say, O my soul, canst thou presume,
He thus addresseth thee?
Yes, 'tis the Bridegroom's voice of love,
Calling thee, O my soul! His doye.
The dove is gentle, mild, and meek;
Deserve I then the name?
I look within in vain to seek,
Aught which can give a claim,
Yet made so by redeeming love,
My soul thou art the Bridegroom's dove!
Methinks my soul, that thou may'st see,
In this endearing word,
Reasons why Jesus likens thee,
To this defenceless bird;
Reasons which shew the Bridegroom's love,
To his poor helpless timid dove.
The dove of all the feathered tribe,
Doth least of power possess;
My soul what better can describe,
Thine utter helplessness?
Yet courage take, the Bridegroom's love,
Will keep, defend, protect his dove.
The dove hath neither claw nor sting,
Nor weapon for the fight;
She owes her safety to her wing,
Her victory to flight;
A shelter hath the Bridegroom's love,
Provided for his helpless dove.
The hawk comes on with eager chase,
The dove will not resist,
In flying to her hiding place,
Her safety doth consist;
The Bridegroom opes his arms of love,
And in them folds his panting dove.
The dove can nothing now molest,
Safe from the fowler's snare;
The bridegroom's bosom is her nest,
Nothing can harm her there;
Encircled by the arms of love,
Almighty power protects the dove.
As the poor dove, before the hawk,
Quick to her refuge flies,
So need I, in my daily walk,
The wing which faith supplies,
To bear me where the Bridegroom's love,
Places beyond all harm his dove.
My soul of native power bereft,
To Calvary repairs;
Immanuel is the rocky cleft,
The secret of the stairs;
Since placed there by the Bridegroom's love,
What evil can befall his dove?
Though Sinai's thunder round her roar,
Though Ebal's lightnings flash,
Though heav'n a firey torrent pour,
And riven mountains crash;
Through all, the still small voice of love,
Whispers: Be not afraid, my dove.
What though the heavens away may pass, With fervent heat dissolve,
And round the Sun this earthly mass,
No longer shall revolve;
Behold a miracle of love:
The Lion quakes, but not the dove.
My soul, now hid within a rock,
(The rock of ages call'd,)
Amid the universal shock,
Is fearless, unappall'd;
A cleft therein prepared by love,
In safety hides the Bridegroom's dove.
O happy dove, thus weak, thus safe;
Do I resemble her?
Then to my soul, O Lord vouchsafe,
A dove-like character;
Pure, harmless, gentle, full of love,
Make me in spirit, Lord a dove.
O! thou who on the Bridegroom's head,
Did as a dove come down:
Within my soul thy graces shed,
Establish there thy throne;
There shed abroad a Saviour's love,
Thou holy, pure and heavenly dove.
ON READING THE SPEECH OF MR.
Be bold and courageous, and fear not the South,
Their speech cannot harm you though poured from their mouth;
It will fall to the ground, as powerless as ever,
Nor fear their proud threats-never-no! never!
Be bold and courageous, and fear not to die,
May your spirit ascend up to God in the sky,
And hear the blest sentence from the lips of the king:
Well done faithful servant-come enter within.
Be bold and courageous, as you 're wont to be,
You will soon come off conqueror as we shall see;
Though the conflict is sharp, and the struggle severe,
Still trust in God's grace, be calm and sincere.
Be bold and courageous, and never give o'er,
And should you lack wisdom, then ask God for more;
He ne'er will upbraid you, though often request,
Even if he should fail you "tis all for the best."
Be bold and courageous, what 'er may oppose,
I Am! will be with you, to conquer your foes;
Draw not back your hand; like your name-sake of old:
While his arm was outstretched his subjects were bold.
Be bold and courageous, contine to blow
The trumpet of Ram's-horns till the city's laid low;
The judgments of heaven, will punish for sin,
Because of God's image, sometimes called a thing.
Be bold and courageous, where ever you be,
Nor care not for those who say 'tis for fee;
But pour forth the truth in volleys of smoke,
Let the Democrats writhe when you expose Mr. Polk.
I hope they'll no longer be fighting at arms,
But lay aside party and sound the alarm,
Let the Wilmot proviso be our motto and guide,
And nought but pure principles we will abide.
Therefore be courageous and tug at the oar,
For if we gain that, what can we gain more?
May your hands be stayed up like Moses of old,
That in after ages your acts may be told.
While the bondman is waiting with expectations high,
To think his redemption is soon drawing nigh,
Then our hearts will rejoice, and be merry with glee,
At the thoughts of our Nation's grand jubilee.
May heaven protect you through all coming strife,
Though oft-times we feared you would fall by the knife;
We look to you therefore as our head and our leader,
And as oft as you speak may each be a reader.
Most Honorable Sir, let thy course still prevail,
Should all be united on our Senator Hale,
Then each lay aside his long valued notions,
(Yourself if you please) brought forth for promotion.
Now Sir, should you ask whose nonsense are these,
I answer directly its one that makes cheese;
Please pass over and pardon my many misgivings,
Adieu, live forever-Joshua R. Giddings.
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