Hymn to Deseret · Improvement Era

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ESSENTIAL KNOWLEDGE. 933

perfect he will know no religious, scientific, social, nor philosophic truth, but will accept truth as a unity. Then miracles will cease, and the supernatural, which is now clothed in mystery, will put on plain garments.

Manoos, Col.

HYMN TO DESERET. [To the Editor of the ERA. — Dear Sir: Having lately had the pleasure of meeting again an old friend who has been on mission work in this country, and has returned again to Utah, (I refer to Elder Brown and his good wife of Brigham City) and having also accidentally made the acquaintance of the traveling elder, at present in this district, I have been much struck not only by their zeal and piety, but with the marvelous love they bear to Deseret, whether it be their country by birth, or by adoption. Their love and reverence for their land and faith is evidently as great as that of the pious Hebrew for Jerusalem. I have

tried to imagine myself in their case, and have in consequence written the enclosed lines which I have ventured to entitle, "A Hymn to Deseret. " * * * If they express, even feebly, the sentiments of your people to their beloved land, you are quite welcome to them. * * * My reverence for your faith is not lessened by the fact that three of my own relatives have been of your faith and have lived in Utah for many years. * * * I am yours very sincerely Joseph Langhorn.]

Oh rest to the pilgrim, oh land of the Lord, What joy to the breast doth thy vision afford; The heart of thy exile with rapture is filled And his soul with the rays of thy glory is thrilled.

Thy valleys are smiling — dear land of the West, Thy children are toiling in harmony blest. The sweet air of liberty, holy and calm, Is filled with the music of prayer and of psalm.

Thy sentinel mountains in majesty stand, A rampart of God to encompass the land; Their glorious peaks ever lifted to greet The heralds of gladness, with glittering feet.

How beauteous those heralds, with garments of snow, Foretelling rich streams to the valleys below: The type of the rivers of grace that are given To the souls of the Saints by our Father in Heaven.

Then let me but tread where my fathers have trod, Let me stand in the courts of the Temple of God. Let me bask in the beams of his gospel restored, And dwell with the Saints, in the land of the Lord. Jos Langhorn. Northampton, England.