HOLY WEEK, APRIL, 1860. O FAIREST mansion of a Father's love, Harmonious! hospitable! with thine arms Outspread to all, thy fountains ever full, And, fair as heaven, thy misty, sky-like dome Hung like the firmament with circling sweep Above the constellated golden lamps That burn forever round the holy tomb. Most meet art thou to be the Father's house, The house of prayer for nations. Come the time When thou shalt be so! when a liberty, Wide as thine arms, high as thy lofty dome, Shall be proclaimed, by thy loud singing choirs, Like voice of many waters! Then the Lord The sons of Levi; then, as once of old, The blind shall see, the lame leap as an hart, And to the poor the Gospel shall be preached, And Easter's silver-sounding trumpets tell, "The Lord is risen indeed," to die no more. Hasten it in its time. Amen! Amen! |