Oh for the spirit which inspired of old The seer's prophetic song-the voice that spake Through Israel's warrior king. The strains that burst In thrilling tones from Zion's heaven-strung harp, Float down the tide of ages, shedding light On pagan shores and nations far remote: Eternal as the God they celebrate, Their fame shall last when Time's long race is run, And you refulgent eye of this fair world, - Its light and centre, -into darkness shrinks, Eclipsed for ever by the glance of Him Whose rising sheds abroad eternal da
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