By the red lightning rent and riven,
And stretched along the plain,
Can the tall oak extend to heaven
Its gay green boughs again?
Or when a star hath lost its track,
And faded from on high,
Can aught restore the lost one back
To glory and the sky?
No; the tall oak no more can spread
Its green leaves to the blast,
Nor can the meteor which hath fled,
Recal its splendours past.
Can man, deep sunk in guilty care
And pressed by human ill,
O! can he triumph o'er despair,
And find a solace still?
Yes! He who for our ransom bled,
Holds back th' avenging rod,
When meek Contrition bows her head
Repenting to her God.
Though dark the sin-though deep the heart
Be sunk in guilt and pain,
Yet Mercy can a balm impart,
And raise it up again!
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