LYRICS

—ON—

FREEDOM, LOVE AND DEATH


By

GEORGE FREDERICK CAMERON



 

Sacred.



What care I for faith of fathers or of brothers?
     All this written faith is nothing: there is faith,
Yea, as high as God is high above all others
     Over every precept—over each Thus Saith.


                  *          *          *          *          *


Oh, there are various arts and many

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     Held holy by the throng,
But unto me the round world holds not any
     More so than that of song.


                  *          *          *          *          *


Let us praise the great God with our hearts not our lips,
     With deeds that shall speak, not with simper or sigh;

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Devotion of soul needs no saddening eclipse,—
     Let us please and be pleased for to-morrow we die!
[Page 275]

 


 

LORD GOD ALMIGHTY.


Lord God Almighty! Thou who art
      The sire of all the orbs that roll,—
The head of each, the hand, the heart,
     The centre and the soul!

My Refuge, Rock and dear Desire,

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     While ills on ills about me throng,
Shall I not come to Thee, the Fire
     And Fount of all my song?

And as thou did’st from wrath of Saul
     Deliver David, forced to flee,

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So, when in pain to thee I call,
     I know thou’lt succor me. [Page 276]

For thou art not a God afar,
    But ever present, ever nigh,
And ready still in every star

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     To hear thy children’s cry.

Oh, I have sinned and I have strayed
     From Thee, the Shepherd of the flock,
Have scorned Thy guidance, and have made
     Thy law divine a mock:

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Again and yet again have done
     The wrong, and wandered from the right;
Have followed folly with the sun
     From early morn till night.

But, like the prodigal, my heart—

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     Too long undone and desolate—
Seeks Thine, believing that Thou art
     As good as Thou art great!

1883.
[Page 277]

 


 

HE IS RISEN!


“He is risen! He is risen!” Hear the universal chorus;
     Note the number of the nations—hear them now, they all                        rejoice;
Lifting to the stars above us, to the sweet stars swimming o’er us
     One united thankful voice
                    That He is risen!

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He is risen—the Redeemer! Earth nor Death nor Hell could bind              Him,
     For His strength was all immortal like His own immortal love:
Vainly to the place of burial go the maidens out to find Him:
     Ah! the angels far above
                    Know He is risen! [Page 278]

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He is risen! In his rising ends the world’s divinest story,—
     One that still find an echo while earth eddies round the sun;
One of sadness wov’n with gladness, one of gloom and one of                   glory,
     One that tells us, All is done! Earth is won!
                    And—He is risen!

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He is risen! He is risen! Lo, the gentle Gallilean
     Whom they crucified and buried leaves the tomb and takes the              throne:
Leaves the cross, and, while the peoples fling the palm and raise              the pæan,
     Reascends and takes His own,—
                    For He is risen!

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Easter Morn, 1885.  [Page 279]