FOR THE ENQUIRER. A HYMN ON REDEMPTION.
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 BY ISAAC JONES, JR. Thou wond'rous Being, good and best, All wise, all mighty, ever blest,

 Who formed earth, air, and skies; Bright angel forms pollution wear, Bright angel forms all frail appear In thy thrice holy eyes. & Then how can man, mortal vain, Thy spirit-piefcing look sustain, In that tremendous day; When frighted nature hears aghast Tn archangel's trump, funereal blasts, - And souls resume their clay! But not in vain, thy Son divine Stoop'd to assume human shrine, And from the dead arose: He burst the tomb, ah, glorious plan, To rescue sad rebellious man From just deserved woes. Ye angels bright ye cherub choirs Strike ardent strike your golden Tyres, And hymn his natal morn: To God, in highest heavens above, Be glory, peace on earth. and love Towards men, Messiah born! Then rise my soul, triumphant rise, Saisat1sA sing, and Saviour prize, Who calls thee to glorious doom; For when thy life ere long shall close, With him who from the dead arose, That soul immortal in the skies shall bloom

 New Haven, 1909.