Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1860-04-26

The TURTLE-DovE Psalm Macduff. in
his charming little work, 1.-The Hart and the
Water Brooks, y has the following in regard
to the composition OF the forty-second Psalm;
1t was spirit crushed and broken with
other but not less poignant sorrows which die
tated this Psalm of his exile May we not
imagine that in addition to the tension of feel
ing produced by his altered fortunes, there
was in the very scene of his banishment, where
the plaintvc chant was composed, much TO
inspire poetic Sentiment2 The alternate calm
and disCCrd of outer nature found their repose
in his own chequcrcd experiences. Natures
.E0lian harp-itS invisible strings composed of
ruStIing leaves and foaming brooks, or the
harSher tones of tempest and thunder, food
and waterfal!-awoke the latent harmonies of
his soal. They furnished him with key note
to discourse higher melodies, and embody
struggling thoughts in inspired numbers. In
reading this Psalm we at once feel that we are
with the Minstrel King, net in the Tabernacle
of Zion, but in some glorious house not made
with hands some cathedral whose aiSDes are
rocky cliffs and tangled branches, and its roof
the canopy Of heaven
Let Us picture him seated in one of these
deep glens listening to the murmur of the riv-
ulct and the will OF the forest. Suddenly the
sky is overcast. Dark clouds roll their masses
along the purple peaks. The lightning flashes;
and the old oaks and tcrebuth of Bashan bend
under the tumuIt Of the storm. The higher
rvuletS have swcllcd the channel of Jordan
-" deep calls to deep the waves chafe and
riot along the narrow gorges. Suddenly q
struggling ray of sunshine steals amid the
strife, and q stray note from some bird answers
joyously TO its CLEAN. 1t is, however, but q
CLEAN. The sky again threatens fresh bolts
awake the mountain echoes The river rolls
on in augmented volume, and the wind wreStles
feTcely rs ever with the deniZens of the forest
At last the contest is at an end The sky is
calm the air refreshed the woods are vocal
with solg ten thousand dripping boughs
sparkle in the sunlight ; the meadows wear a
lovclier emerald ; and rock, and branch, and
nowerct, arc reflected in the bosom of the
stream.
"As the royal spectator, with poet and
paintcr'S.eyc, is gazing Oh this shifting dorama,
and when Nature is laughing and joyous again
amid her own tear drops, another simple Incl
dient arrests his attention. A hart or deer,
hit by the archcrs, or pursued by some wild
beast on these mountains of the lcopards,"
with hot eyc.bailS and painting sides, comes
bounding down the forest glade to quench the
rage of thirst The sight suggests noblcr as
pirations. With trembling hand and fearful
eye the cxilcd spectator awakes his heart
strings, and bequcaths to US one of the most
pathetic musings in the whole psaltcr. The
twcnty-third has happily been called the
nightingale of the Psalms > this may appro-
priately be termed "the turtle dove" We
hear the lonely bird as if seated on solitary
branch warbling its reproachful music" or
rather struggling on the ground with broken
wing, uttcring doIcrul lament. These strains
form an cpitomc of the Christian lifc-a diary
of religious experience which, after three thou
sand years, find an echo in every heart. Who
can wonder that they have smoothed the death
pillow Of diving saints, and taken thorn from
the crown of tue noble army Of martyrs "