Thomas Cogswell Upham Poems

The soul, that loves Thee, cannot fear;
Terror is conquer'd by desire;
For Thee it leaves each object here,
And seeks Thee with its wing of fire.
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When from the heart its ills are driven,
And God restor'd, resumes control,
The outward life becomes a heaven,
As bright as that within the soul.
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My Savior! Wilt thou leave me now,
When sharp temptations round me throng?
All other helps have failed -- and thou
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Oh, lady! Sing that song again,
I'll sadly linger by;
I've heard it, on my native plain,
It then was able to unchain
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If thou, oh God, wilt make my spirit free,
Then will that darkened soul be free indeed;
I cannot break my bonds, apart from thee,
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Oh, send one ray into my sightless ball,
Transmit one beam into my darkened heart!
On Thee, Almighty God, on Thee I call,
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Whate'er our griefs in life, whate'er in death,
If doomed perchance to feel the martyr's flame,
Still, with our last and agonizing breath,
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Why has my child, my darling child departed?
Why has my God in wrath that loved one taken?
Leaving me desolate and broken-hearted,
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What constitutes the true nobility?
Not wealth, nor name, nor outward pomp, nor power;
Fools have them all; and vicious men may be
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Upon God's Holy Mountain all is peace,
Of clanging arms and cries and wail, no sound
Goes up to mingle with the gentle breeze,
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