Another verse
of the hymn arose, a slow and mournful strain,
such as the pious love, but joined to words
which expressed all that our nature can conceive
of sin, and darkly hinted at far more. Unfathomable
to mere mortals is the lore of fiends. Verse
after verse was sung, and still the chorus
of the desert swelled between like the deepest
tone of a mighty organ; and with the final
peal of that dreadful anthem there came a
sound, as if the roaring wind, the rushing
streams, the howling beasts, and every other
voice of the unconcerted wilderness were
mingling and according with the voice of
guilty man in homage to the prince of all.
The four blazing pines threw up a loftier
flame, and obscurely discovered shapes and
visages of horror on the smoke wreaths above
the impious assembly. At the same moment
the fire on the rock shot redly forth and
formed a glowing arch above its base, where
now appeared a figure. With reverence be
it spoken, the figure bore no slight similitude,
both in garb and manner, to some grave divine
of the New England churches.
"Bring forth the converts!" cried
a voice that echoed through the field and
rolled into the forest.
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