Friends, kindred, comfort, all they spurned,
Their fathers' hallowed graves,
And to a world of darkness turned,
Beyond a world of waves.
50. When Israel's race from bondage fled,
Signs from on high the wanderers led;
But here--Heaven hung no symbol here,
Their steps to guide, their souls to cheer;
They saw, through sorrow's lengthening night,
Naught but the fagot's guilty light;
The cloud they gazed at was the smoke.
Nor power above, nor power below,
Sustained them in their hour of woe;
A fearful path they trod,
And dared a fearful doom;
To build an altar to their God,
And find a quiet tomb.
51. Yet, strong in weakness, there they stand
On yonder ice--bound rock,
Stern and resolved, that faithful band,
To meet Fate's rudest shock.
Though anguish rends the father's breast,
For them, his dearest and his best,
With him the waste who trod--
Though tears that freeze the mother sheds
Upon her children's houseless heads--
The Christian turns to God.
52. In grateful adoration now
Upon the barren sands they bow.
What tongue of joy e'er woke such prayer
As bursts in desolation there?
What arm of strength e'er wrought such power
As waits to crown that feeble hour?
When into life an infant empire springs,
There falls the iron from the soul,
There Liberty's young accents roll
Up to the King of kings!
53.
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