A garden claims the lay:

Nor would the Muse forget Where dwelt our parents ere they tasted woe;

Where beauties still repay.

Man's fostering care; and yet, In times to come, where brighter scenes shall glow.


To make his glory known,

And on the world He made To stamp his image, ere its course began;

When earth, air, seas, be sown.

With seed of life, He bade, Sole lord of all, God last created man.


A garden then became.

The cradle of our race, When first the new-born pair beheld the light:

There naked, without shame,

They walked, and face to face Saw their Creator, and adored the sight.


Where roll'd the fourfold brook.

Its streams that Eden fed, Their way of worship first they learn'd and trod.

The garden was the book,

Reveal'd in which they read Their Father's care, the providence of God.


Their altar it, " to dress.

And keep it" was the praise They offer'd morn and eve for sacrifice.

While all was righteousness.

Toil wearied not; the days Flew swiftly, spent with God in Paradise.


In mythic fables this.

Is shadow'd still, and e'en Where He is known not, to whom Adam knelt:

Type of a future bliss,

By Pagan dimly seen, Faint gleam of light mid darkness to be felt,


Earth, all a garden, pour'd.

Forth its full wealth, and made Plenty the universal heritage.

Disease and strife abhorr'd.

Slew none, while Chronos sway'd His peaceful sceptre in the golden age.


Nor has this nought of sooth,

Like tale of fairy-land, To lull their babes to rest by nurses sung;

For at the torch of truth.

Tradition lit a brand: There was an age of gold when Time was young.


But nations there were none.

When with the Fount of Good The first man only, as a friend, conversed:

For Adam reign'd alone,

When all beneath him stood His loyal subjects ere the earth was cursed.


With full dominion crown'd.

O'er all the Lord had made. Their names He gave to all, their habits saw;

The birds and beasts around.

God called, and they obey'd With joy; for "peace on earth" was yet the law.


Not yet the golden chain.

Lay broken in the dust, Which Nature bound in mutual sympathies:

Not cruelty, in pain.

Rejoicing fierce; nor lust Of pow'r or gain had glared in Adam's eyes.


Willing they came; for he.

And they one purpose knew, And that was love, to God, and each to each.

His mind's supremacy,

His very passions too, But raised his service more than theirs could reach.


Earth peaceful then, and rife.

With herb and flower and fruit, From her full bosom all her children fed:

None prey'd on others' life,

Nor, culling herb or root, Found poison lurking in the treacherous mead.


How alter'd now! For sin,

" The wormwood and the gall," Scowls from the ruins of that happy state.

When there's a hell within,

Without 'tis certain all Is anarchy and strife, and love exchanged to hate.


Bound in the iron chain,

Creation weaves a scourge By war of elements to punish man.

Consumption, and the train.

Of wasting fevers, urge The step of Death, who then his race began.


Yet 'twas by Wisdom plann'd.

The curse of God should glance, And miss the ruin of a helpless world;

For, turn'd by Mercy's hand,

The bolt but struck askance And broke, against the Rock of Ages hurl'd.


See the pure Lamb of God,

Made sin though sinless, led To death, that God in place of man might die:

Under his Father's rod.

He meekly bow'd his head, And drank to its dregs the cup of misery.


Now throned in power on high,

The Lord of Righteousness, He guides the Gospel-car to speed his word,

Till in his majesty.

He comes his work to bless, And earth shall bloom the Garden of the Lord.