Says the watchman, “And what of the night?
It often brings seasons of sorrow,
When dark and beclouded with sin;
But ah! it may sweeten to-morrow,
If a ray of God’s favor breaks in.
How dark and how gloomy was Chaos;
But God by his own matchless plan,
Call’d this beautiful world from its darkness,
And did safe on its axle-tree hang!
And Jesus, our Savior, was present,
For his was the word of command;
He spangled those orbs in their greatness,
For good and for glory to man.”
The angels in wonder stood gazing,
Till Sol darts his beams to their view;
“What is there in the East that is blazing—
That pearls all the drops of the dew?”
“’Tis the Sun,” Great Messiah then answered,
“’Tis the Sun,” say the angels, “’tis true;
From thee it beams glory and greatness,
And bears up thy own title too.”

Great Sol, arise! and spread thy lustre high—
Go warm the earth, and decorate the sky!
When thou retir’st, the silver moon will rise,
With pearly radiance, o’er those spangled skies!
Without a cloud to intercept thy way,
Go, clearly shine, and make the evening gay!
God saw his work was great, when it he view’d,
Approved the same, and then pronounced it good.
And why this garden, walled so rich and fair,
With glittering stone that is beyond compare—
With walks, and bowers, and interwoven scenes,
With silver rivulets that roll between,
Tossing their golden pebbles in the stream!
Here richest fruits, in clusters ripe and fair,
And variegated blooms perfume the air;
Here beast of every kind, playful yet mute,
And birds with plumage gay, and warbling throat,
Chanting to their Maker with melodious note!
And is the richness of these fruits conceal’d,
That grow spontaneous in this fertile field?
Is no one here these sweets to taste? And none the banquet share?
Within these walls is a majestic form,
Graceful and noble as the rising morn!
Adam! survey thy wond’rous form, and see
The image of thy God is stamped on thee!
Be grateful, then, and be obedient, too;
For this respect is to thy Sov’reign due.
And here are richest fruits in store for thee;
And all is thine, except that hallow’d tree:
And should’st thou touch it, thou shall surely die!
I have pronounced! Ask not the reason why.”
Then Adam bows assent, and walks the rounds,
To view the beauties of these fertile grounds—
He stops to listen to the bubbling stream,
That gently trickles down the sloping green;
And on his way he views the crystal pond
Where gold-fish play.
Delighted with the scene, he looks above,
Adores the greatness of the God of Love.
But day is done:
Beyond the western hills now sinks the sun.
Adam with wonder views the evening scene—
The first fair twilight he had ever seen.
But now with drowsy sleep his eyes are pressed,
For God has sanctioned all creation rest.
In Christian attitude kneels to the shrine,
And offers up his prayers in words divine;
Then to his mossy pillow Adam goes,
Nought to disturb or break his soft repose.
He sleeps secure till morning light appears,
And birds of Paradise salute his ears.
Then o’er some loaded bough his arm he’s flung,
Addressed his Maker with his morning song.
Then to the willow’d meads he did repair,
To view his flocks, and see them gambol there.
With scrutiny, he sees each has a friend;
In his own bosom he thus contends:
But why am I exempt, my mind is good,
And I’ve a speech well to be understood——
But here’s my Sov’reign.” “Adam, answer! why
That downcast look—that soft, expressive sigh?
Will not a Paradise for thee suffice?”
“Great Sov’reign! oft I stand in ecstacy,
Viewing the greatness of thy Deity!
I know thy works are infinite, supreme,
And canst answer every wished for scheme.”
“Adam! I see thy faith is strong;
Speak thy request, nor hesitate too long.”
“A friend, a partner give to sweeten life,
And then these rural scenes are Paradise,
Then, Adam, sleep! and to thee I’ll give
A form for whom thou’lt ever wish to live.
Then from his side the ivory bone he takes,
A beauteous woman of the same he makes.
But O! our hearts are bent on pleasure here—
The disappointment oft times is severe.
But Adam wanders forth we know not where,
And leaves alone the unprotected fair.
The fiend, on search, the separation knew—
“This is my time, and I’ll improve it, too:
Say, beauteous Eve, hast thou no greater mind,
Than to these simple flowers to be confined?
Take this delicious fruit, and then you’ll see
That greater glories are in store for thee.”
“That is forbidden fruit; O no! not I;
For if I eat, then I must surely die.”
“Misrepresented is the fruit I give;
I eat the same, and yet you see I live.”
Her innocence had never known a lie;
So to his treacherous art she did comply.
She took the apple! When she ate the same,
The poisonous juice had tainted every vein.
But Adam comes.
“Say, lovely Eve, where is thy beauty fled?
Where is the bloom that tinged thy cheek with red?
Who has been here?”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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