FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Sect/on J EXPORT BOOKSELLERS || 32. GAY STREET. I V-BATH.^ I \ *™ McaaM^ , * tf /'/ £ ft y / 'S\^ft CHURCH POETRY. S/ ..> \V CHURCH POE' ^ OF PB/^ MAY 1 9 1933 S-2 CHRISTIAN THOUGHTS IN OLD AND MODERN VERSE. THIRD EDITION. LONDON: JOHN AND CHARLES MOZLEY, PATERNOSTER ROW ; AND JOSEPH MASTERS, NEW BOND STREET. 1818. v j It is the object of the present selec- tion of sacred Poetry, so far as a small volume can do it, to satisfy the taste and judgment of a class of readers be- coming, it is hoped, daily more nu- merous and important. The persons al- luded to are such, as, deeming it the great- est happiness to be social members of Christ's Holy Catholic Church, would not willingly have mixed up with their more sacred thoughts the writings or sentiments of those whom they cannot consistently think so. Now among the numerous col- lections of religious poetry which have A3 VI ADVERTISEMENT. hitherto appeared, persons of primitive Church feeling have continually had to regret a want of that harmony of belief on essential points with some of the writers, which is so necessary to render that kind of reading ultimately pleasant or profitable. Churchmen and Dissenters have been min- gled together, and most opposite views have been placed perhaps side by side, as if verse might be a veil for inconsistency, and as if poetry itself were intended only to excite the fancy and indulge the imagi- nation, without any care to convey posi- tive and consistent truth. It has been one chief aim of this work to avoid that sort of error ; and, as a first step towards securing uniformity of creed, none but the writings of Churchmen have been consulted. Great care and pains have been taken to search into the works of some earlier poets, little ADVERTISEMENT. Vll known at present, but who may yet be supposed to have written what well de- serves, both for sentiment and expression, to be read and studied in an after age. The thanks of the selector are here of- fered to such as have kindly assisted in this undertaking, and especially to those who have added so much value to the work by their original contributions. CONTENTS. Page Lessons from Nature 1 Providence and Probation . . . .32 Rules and Lessons for Life . . . .57 The Church and her Ordinances . . .85 Repentance 108 Resignation 118 Holy Living 139 Prayer and Praise 174 Thankfulness 205 Contemplation 215 Life and Time 236 Holy Dying 247 Future State .267 Characters and Descriptions .... 280 Memorials 301 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Rev. Henry Alford. Peace . . . .80 I sought for Novelty — in vain . . . .231 There is an ancient man 314 Anonymous. Passing through the New Forest ( The Programme) 22 I will lead them in paths {Lost Brooch) . . 40 Light in the Darkness {Lyra Apostolica) . 43 Faith ( The Programme) . 44 Chastisement {Lyra Apos- tolica) . . .45 Tyre {Lyra Apostolica) . 52 Deeds not Words {Lyra Apostolica) . . 65 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Anonymous. Old Self and New Self {Lyra Apostolica) . 70 Fastidiousness {Lyra Apostolica) . . 73 Psalm xlix. (Psalter) . 81 The Churchman to his Lamp (Lyra Apostolica) 87 The Magnificat (Cathe- dral) . . 89 Burial of the Dead (Lyra Apostolica) . .100 Dies lrae (Thoughts in past Years) . .114 The Winter Thrush (Lyra Apostolica) . .129 Employment . . 146 St. Matthew's Day ( Child's Christian Year) 157 Morning Hymn (Child's Christian Year) . . 189 The Invitation . .198 Evening . . .199 A Hermit's Meditation . 227 Childhood (Baptistery) . 236 V INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Anonymous. Emblems . . . 241 Man's Flitting Life . 244 Nothingness of Matter {Lyra Apostolica) . 245 The Death of Moses . 254 The Death of the Right- eous (Baptistery) . 259 Death (Lyra Apostolica) 261 Epitaph on an Old Lady 312 Others admire in thee a Poet's fire ( Thoughts in past Years) . . 319 Sir John Beaumont. In Desolation . . 132 (1622)* On my dear son Gervase 308 Joseph Beaumont. Home . . . .77 (1655) Nicholas Breton. I would I were an excel- (1600) lent Divine . . 75 Earl Bristol. Farewell . . . 132 Moses Brown. (1740) To the River Lea . . 25 Thos. Browne. (1682) Evening Hymn . . 203 * This and the following dates do not profess to give more than the probable time when the author wrote or published his Poems. INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page John Cleveland. Content 159 (1640) An Epitaph on a de- ceased Friend 309 S. T. Coleridge. True Freedom 67 Innocence 292 Abraham Cowley. From the Garden . 19 (1640) The Tenth Plague 53 The Shortness of Life . 62 COWPER. To the Nightingale 16 Crashaw. (1638) On a Prayer Book 178 Charitas Nimia 218 A Saint received in Heaven 269 Description of a Religious House 283 Daniel. (1600) Religion 86 Sir John Davies. Affliction 119 (1595) 0, ignorant poor man And though some impious 170 wits .... 273 Rev. John Davison Epitaph in Worcester Cathedral . 310 To the memory of a good poor Woman 321 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Henry Delaune. The Removal of the (1657.) Drummond. (1620) Righteous . New doth the Sun appear 52 12 Dedication of a Church . 93 Hymn upon the Sundays in Lent 108 Sonnet 213 Sonnet 269 Sonnet . . 277 Rev. F. Fabee. Thomas Flatman. College Chapel College Library Hymn for the Morning . 94 226 182 (1670.) Giles Fletcher. Hymn for the Evening . Presumption 183 287 (1610) Fulke Greville. (1600) True Religion Lord Brooke. (1628) 151 George Gascoigne. Good-morrow 206 (1560.) William Habington . Nox nocti indicat scien- (1634) tiam Tell me, O great all- 2 knowing God , 256 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Rev. R. S. Hawker Morwennae statis hodie Morwentor 104 George Herbert. The Pulley 42 (1635) Discipline 50 Constancy 59 Lent . 95 Vanity . 113 Submission 137 The Elixir . 160 The Temper 196 Life . 238 The Glance . 272 Dr. Peter Heylin. On a Bible richly gilt . 139 (1635) Hickes' Devotions. The Lark and the Dove . 15 (1690) Dependance . 36 The Choice 141 The Mistake corrected . 155 Hymn for Sunday Morn- ing ... 181 True Life 252 Hunis. (1558) Grey Hairs 74 Bishop Jebb. 0, thou whose all-enliven ing ray 123 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Pa^e Thomas Jordan. On the incomparable (1645) treasure of the Holy Scriptures . . 168 Bishop Ken. Conscience . . 142 Midnight Hymn . .193 The Rest of the Just . 249 The Saints with Jesus . 278 The Poet . . .289 Bishop King. (1643) The Life of Man . . 242 Lord John Manners. Easter . . . .97 Jasper Mayne.(1640) Time . . . .242 Bishop Middleton. Hymn for New Year's Day 112 R. M. Milnes, Esq. The Worth of Hours . 172 Henry More. (1654) Sensual and Spiritual Life 153 John Norris. (1690) The Resignation . .118 Hymn to Darkness . 215 Meditation . . .267 Francis Quaules. Delight in God only . 224 (1622) John Quarles. Divine Ejaculation . 221 (1654) SirWalterRaleigh. The Unquiet Rest . 122 (1618) a3 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page George SANDYs.(J6l5)Psalm cxlviii. . .201 Hymn written at the Holy Sepulchre . . 202 On a Review of God's Mercies . . .210 David's Lamentation over Saul and Jonathan . 315 Shirley. (1630) The Glories of our Blood and State . . 240 Sir Philip Sidney. Farewell to splendid Fol- (1580) lies ... 66 Psalm xciii. . . .200 Southey. Conscience . . .38 Gaiety of Heart . . 209 Not to the Grave . . 250 Afflictions . . .288 The Field of Battle . 293 Written in his Library . 318 Robert Southwell. From " St. Peter's Com- (1616) plaint" . . .111 Content and Rest . . 165 Spenser. (1590) The Order of Providence 48 The Knight at the House of Holiness . . 150 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Spenser. The only Source of good 154 The Seven Beadmen 280 Rev. R, C. Trench. Sonnet . 45 Sonnet . 62 Sonnet . . 72 Rejoice evermore . . 127 Some murmur . 205 The Day of Death . 264 Henry Vaughan, The Rainbow 1 (1651.) Early Rising and Prayer 57 The Retreat . 144 The Dawning . 247 Peace 271 Heaven in Prospect 275 An Epitaph upon the Lady Elizabeth . . 306 Waller. (1663) The Seas are quiet . 263 George Withers. Fore-knowledge . 67 (1628) Books . . 72 Private Judgment . . 85 Hymn on St. John Bap- tist's Day . . 109 The voice which I did more esteem 126 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page George Withers. For Parents who have lost their Children . 135 Evening Hymn . . 191 Constancy in Virtue . .286 Wordsworth. To a Skylark . .11 Address to the Solitary . 28 Support under Affliction 39 Duty ... 66 King's College Chapel . 103 Consolation . . . 136 How beautiful this dome of sky . . . . 1 74 I do not wish to wrong him ... 296 SirH.Wooton. (1620) A Happy Life . . 60 INDEX OF AUTHORS. ORIGINAL. Page c. April Morning . . 4 A Child's Answer . 18 Penzance . . .24 Railroad Sonnets . . 68 Ad Primum . . . 184 Ad Laudes . . . 185 Dominica ad Noctem . 188 Ici Gist . . .305 7- On a Monument in Lich- field Cathedral . . 301 8. Nature and Art . . 32 H. An Honest and Good Heart . . .147 M.H. Ministering Spirits . 232 S. R. The Seasons . . 12 Written in a very beauti- ful Spring . . .27 Temptation . . .125 Steadfastness . .150 Happiness . . . 159 Cheerfulness . .162 INDEX OF AUTHORS. S. R. Rev. D. S. Wayland. Rev. George Wheeler. Page An Old Man's Wish . 262 The Bee Ophrys . . 290 DrabaVerna . . 294 Boughton Malherbe . 297 Epitaph on a Stone Mason 312 Sir Henry Wooton . 322 Commune with your own Heart ... 7 Epitaph . , .310 Sonnet . . .311 LESSONS FROM NATURE. THE RAINBOW. Henry Vaughan. Still young and fine ! but what is still in view We slight as old and soiPd, though fresh and new ; How bright wert thou, when Shem's admiring eye, Thy burning flaming arch did first descry ; When Zerah, Nahor, Haram, Abram, Lot, The youthful world's grey fathers, in one knot, Did with intentive looks, watch every hour For thy new light, and trembled at each shower. When thou dost shine, darkness looks white and fair ; Forms turn to music, clouds to smiles and air ; Rain gently spends his honey-drops, and pours Balm on the cleft earth, milk on grass and flowers. 2 LESSONS FROM NATURE. Bright pledge of peace and sunshine ! the sure tie Of thy Lord's hand, the object of His eye ! When I behold thee, though my light be dim, Distant and low, I can in thine see Him, Who looks upon thee from His glorious throne* And minds the covenant betwixt all and One. NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM. Habington. When I survey the bright Celestial sphere : So rich with jewels hung, that night Doth like an Ethiop's bride appear : My soul her wings doth spread, And heaven-ward flies, The Almighty's mysteries to read In the large volumes of the skies. For the bright firmament Shoots forth no flame So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. LESSONS FROM NATURE. No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a character, Remov'd far from our human sight : But if we steadfast look We shall discern In it, as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the conqueror, That far stretched power, Which his proud dangers traffic for, Is but the triumph of an hour. That from the farthest North, Some nation may Yet undiscovered, issue forth, And o'er his new got conquest sway. Some nation yet shut in With hills of ice, May be let out to scourge his sin, Till they shall equal him in vice. LESSONS FROM NATURE. And then they likewise shall Their ruin have ; For as yourselves your empires fall, And every kingdom hath a grave. Thus those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires And all the pride of life confute. For they have watched since first The world had birth : And found sin in itself accurst, And nothing permanent on Earth. APRIL MORNING. Cloud ! or mist ! or exhalation ! Or however else thou hearest ! That in thy vapoury bosom bearest Heart brooding care, and funeral expectation, Hence in haste ! As best thou may'st, In this bright April morn all utterly misplaced ! LESSONS FROM NATURE. Brightly shows the Daffodil ; And she too who bards have said Is as a forsaken maid, Amid her gay compeers cries, " laugh who will !" Well did he know My spirits flow Who erst while bade me laugh and be the wiser so. And " laugh who will," repeats the Brook, That beneath the morning sun Cheerily by the road doth run ; And the gay Furze responds, with brightest look. Heed not his lay, Whoso doth say The "blossomed furze," is aye, " unprofitably gay." Nothing is unprofitable That bids thee hear sweet Nature's voice, That bids the heart of man rejoice ; The very harden'd road I tread is able, Purpled with hues From undried dews, Some of the cheerful soul of April to infuse. b3 O LESSONS FROM NATURE. Then arouse thee, drooping heart ! Shame upon thee ! if among All this burst of dance and song, Sullen and sad thou shunn'st to bear thy part ! See where has stirr'd The minstrel bird ! O do not let her hymn be first at Heaven's gate heard. Man is the kingly priest of Nature, And it is high Heaven's intent That he singly should present The sacrifice of praise for every creature. Why should the lark Thy loitering mark ? Gird thou thine ephod on, and sing before the ark. ■*** LESSONS FROM NATURE. " COMMUNE WITH YOUR OWN HEART, AND IN YOUR CHAMBER, AND BE STILL." Rev. D. S. Way land. And is it even thus ? Are these the words Of God's own Book ; and do they speak the mind Of Him, the High, the Wise, the Holy ? Then, What must we say of some, who, in their pride, Proclaim themselves His people, and look down With scornful pity upon humbler souls Who worship Him in secret ? — Foolish thought ! Raise high the platform, spread the benches wide, And deep, and high, and let the crowded heads, Tier above tier, with outstretch'd necks, and eyes Of eager expectation, bend their gaze, Steadfast, concentrated, on one whose tongue, In accents bland as Music's self can teach, Tells of the inward conflict, speaks aloud, To scoffers or to infidels, of thoughts Lodged in the heart's deep core, of thoughts which burn The soul that nurtures them, and have no voice But silence ! — Hie thee to the mart, where trade Musters its thousands, jostling here and there 8 LESSONS FROM NATURE. To worship gain, their idol ; thither turn, With sanctimonious gestures, eyes uprais'd, And voice attun'd to feign'd humility, While Jehu's spirit lurks perchance beneath ; Such as he bore aloft into the car With that good man, once summon'd to behold His zeal in God's own cause, while all within Was false and hollow ! — To the social board, Where men of every creed together meet With those who nought believe ; and breathe the high And solemn musings of the world to come, 'Mid festive intercourse, or festive song ; And while the wine cup foams, and the light jest Sportive though innocent, the circle round Pursues unchecked, " break in upon the mirth With most admir'd disorder," tell of sins Repented and forgiven, and let the Name, Before which knees should bend, and hearts should bow In lowliest guise, be like a household word Heard from all lips unblamed ! — And is it thus That the deep anguish of the contrite soul Pours forth its inmost treasures to the ear Of flippant hearers, whose unhallow'd scorn Confounds the Worshipped with the worshipper, Nor fears to tread with careless foot the place Where God's own glories are revealed, and Forms LESSONS FROM NATURE. 9 Of Angel brightness veil their downcast heads In presence of His Majesty ? — For this, Oh ! not for this, did He, who in the meek And contrite heart dwells ever, though unseen, Give to the high, the beautiful, the true, A bashful grace, which shuns the glare of day, Nor will unsought be found. The sun-flower, see, Its gaudy form to th' orb of day unfolds Without reserve, and o'er its scentless hues The "liberal" air sweeps boldly ; but the meek, And lowly violet, beneath the shade" Of clustering leaves, on some retired bank With dew be-sprinkled, gives its odours forth To the lone muser, who his lesson takes Early in Nature's book, and walks with God In the day's matin prime. And she the fair, Sweet dweller of the woods, whose cluster'd bells Of virgin white forth from their sheath of green, In Spring's bright hours, their breathing scents exhale In desart loneliness, she of the vale. The modest lily, does she speak of deeds Lost if not blazon'd, feelings vain if known To Him alone, who asks the conscious heart, And asks no more ? Believe it not. The Age Is ripe in outward seeming. It is fair, 10 LESSONS FROM NATURE. It "doth profess— too much." But is it true ? — Who, that feels deeply, to the general ear Will tell his tale of hidden sympathies, Unlock the springs of Nature's gushing tears, And bid them flow for all ? Is human love So different from Divine, that he who shrinks With Nature's inward loathing, strong as true, From giving to the coarse and vulgar crowd The depth of the heart's mysteries, must yet His fearful struggles tell to listless ears, And breathe to hearts untun'd the thrilling sense Of Love unspeakable, or be cast out As one of this world's children ? Deem not so ! He knows His own. Though haply in that world, Which calls itself " religious," no high praise, Dispensed by Critic or Poetic hand, May canonize his name, the humble soul, That walked with God in meek obscurity, Shall dwell with Him in light. Feelings long hid, Hid but to burn more brightly, will be then Reveal'd in God's own time ; and he who here Amidst glib talkers, bowed his head perchance In sad mistrust, will lift it calmly up, Calmly, not proudly, and his portion take With those who praise in lowliest thankfulness " Him who alone is wwthv." LESSONS FROM NATURE. 11 TO A SKYLARK. Wordsworth. Ethereal Minstrel ! Pilgrim of the sky ! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound ? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still ? To the last point of vision, and beyond, Mount, daring Warbler ! that love-prompted strain ('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond) Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain : Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege ! to sing All independent of the leafy spring. Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood ; A privacy of glorious light is thine ; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with rapture more divine ; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam, True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home. 12 LESSONS FROM NATURE. Drumtnond. New doth the Sun appear, The mountains' snows decay, Crown'd with frail flowers, forth comes the infant year ; My soul, time posts away, And thou, yet in that frost Which flower and fruit hath lost, As if all here immortal were, dost stay : For shame ! thy powers awake, Look to that Heaven which never night makes black, And there at that immortal Sun's bright rays Deck thee with flowers, which fear not rage of days. THE SEASONS. S. R. By laughing hours and broider'd meads, By Zephyr's odour-wafting wing, By all that youthful fancy feeds, We know the glad approach of spring. LESSONS FROM NATURE. 13 The summer spreads her leafy bowers, Of ampler shade and verdure deep, While day by day her silken flowers From each emboldened calix peep. With mellowed fruits and ripened fields, With tints of gold on earth and sky, With rich delights that autumn yields, She whispers wise tranquillity. E'en winter hoar has stores to show, Her home delights, her hours of rest, Her spangled work of frost and snow, The generous host, the thankful guest. Each teems with treasures all her own, A rich and ever-yielding mine ; Yet still they come and go alone, No two their transient wealth combine. But, man ! it is not so with thee ; Thou need'st not quit the flowers of youth ; Heaven wills that they should last, and be A garland to the fruits of truth, c 14 LESSONS FROM NATURE. Spring-time with thee need never fade, Tho' summer's deeper beauties rise, Autumn and winter both may aid To make Heaven's favourite good and wise. And, oh ! may I, as years roll on, The grace of every age hold fast ; Still adding each and losing none, Gay, sage, and happy to the last. LESSONS FROM NATURE. 15 THE LARK AND THE DOVE. Hickes' Devotions. Wake now, my soul, and humbly hear What thy mild Lord commands ; Each word of His will charm thine ear, Each word will guide thy hands. Hark ! how His sweet and tender care Complies with our weak minds ; Whate'er our state and tempers are, Still some fit work He finds. They that are merry, let them sing, And let the sad hearts pray ; Let those still ply their cheerful wing, And these their sober lay. So mounts the early warbling Lark Still upward to the skies ; So sits the Turtle in the dark Amidst her plaintive cries. 16 LESSONS FROM NATURE. And yet the Lark and yet the Dove, Both sing, tho' different parts ; And so should we, howe'er we move, With light or heavy hearts. Or, rather, we should each essay, And our cross notes unite ; Both grief and joy should sing and pray, Since both such hopes invite ; — Hopes that all present sorrow heal, All present joy transcend ; Hopes to possess and taste and feel Delights that never end. TO THE NIGHTINGALE, WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SIXG ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. Cowper. Whence is it, that amaz'd I hear From yonder wither'd spray This foremost morn of all the year The melody of May ? LESSONS FBOM NATURE. 17 And why, since thousands would be proud Of such a favour shown, Am I selected from the crowd To witness it alone ? Sing'st thou sweet Philomel, to me ? For that I also long Have practised in the groves like thee, Though not like thee in song. Or sing'st thou rather under force Of some Divine Command, Commission'd to presage a course Of happier days at hand. Thrice welcome then, for many a long And joyless year have I, As thou to-day, put forth my song Beneath a wintry sky. But thee no wintry skies can harm, Who only need'st to sing, To make e'en January charm, And every season Spring. c3 18 LESSONS FROM NATURE. A CHILD'S ANSWER. C. I met a fairy child, whose golden hair Around her sunny face in clusters hung ; And as she wove her king-cup chain, she sung Her household melodies— those strains that bear The hearer back to Eden. Surely ne'er A brighter vision blest my dreams. " Whose child Art thou," I said, " sweet girl ?" In accent mild She answered, "Mother's" When I questioned, «' Where Her dwelling was,"— again she answered, "Home." " Mother!" and " Home /" — O blessed ignorance ! Or rather blessed knowledge ! What advance Farther than this shall all the years to come, With all their lore effect ? There are but given Two names of higher note,—*' Father" and " Hea- ven" LESSONS FROM NATURE. 19 FROM "THE GARDEN." Cowley. But with no sense the garden does comply, None courts or flatters, as it does the eye. When the great Hebrew king did almost strain The wondrous treasures of his wealth and brain, His royal southern guest to entertain ; Tho* she on silver floors did tread, With bright Assyrian carpets on them spread, To hide the metal's poverty : Though she look'd up to roofs of gold, And nought around her could behold But silk and rich embroidery, And Babylonish tapestry, And wealthy Hiram's princely dye ; Though Ophir's starry stones met every where her eye ; Though she herself and her gay host were dress'd, With all the shining glories of the East ; When lavish art her costly work had done, The honour and the prize of bravery Was by the garden from the palace won ; 20 LESSONS FROM NATURE. And every rose and lily there did stand Better attired by Nature's hand. The case thus judg'd against the king we see, By One, who would not be so rich, though wiser far than he. Nor does this happy place only dispense Such various pleasures to the sense ; Here health itself does live, That salt of life which does to all a relish give, Its standing pleasure, and intrinsic wealth, The body's virtue and the soul's good fortune, health. The tree of life when it in Eden stood, Did its immortal head to Heaven rear ; It lasted a tall cedar till the flood ; Now a small thorny shrub it does appear ; Nor will it thrive too every where : It always here is freshest seen ; 'Tis only here an ever-green. If through the strong and beauteous fence Of temperance and innocence, And wholesome labours, and a quiet mind, Any diseases passage find, They must not think here to assail A land unarmed or without a guard ; LESSONS FROM NATURE. 21 They must fight for it, and dispute it hard, Before they can prevail : Scarce any plant is growing here, Which against death some weapon does not bear. Let cities boast, that they provide For life the ornaments of pride ; But 'tis the country and the field That furnish it with staff and shield. Where does the wisdom and the power divine, In a more bright and sweet reflection shine ? Where do we finer strokes and colors see Of the Creator's real poetry, Than when w r e with attention look Upon the third day's volume of the book ? If we could open and intend our eye, We all, like Moses, should espy Ev'n in a bush, the radiant Deity. But we despise these His inferior ways (Though no less full of miracle and praise) : Upon the flowers of Heaven we gaze ; The stars of earth no wonder in us raise, Though these perhaps do more than they The life of Mankind sway. 22 LESSONS FROM NATURE. PASSING THROUGH THE NEW FOREST. AUTUMN SUNSET. What do they say ? — those forest trees ; Their leaves are shed ; Thousands and thousands by the breeze Lie scattered — dead ; And yet there is a sunny hue, A rich bright glow, Their summer freshness never knew, That now they show. And the bright sun — he soon will sink, His glories set ; But see, while hovering on the brink, He's glowing yet ; And never in his noontide hour, In summer skies Beams forth such radiant glorious power, As when he dies. LESSONS FROM NATURE. 23 They tell me — those proud trees of earth, That sun of Heaven, This is not death ; another birth Will yet be given. 'Tis therefore they exulting glow, Exulting shine ; They tell me as I gaze, to know Such fate is mine. But, oh ! how nobler, higher far, Our hope in dying, To rise where light and glory are, And death defying. Then never, never look upon That earth and sky, To sigh o'er dreams — of pleasure gone, Or hopes that die ; But think of the eternal morrow That breaks upon the night of sorrow. 24 LESSONS FltOM NATURE. PENZANCE. C The path is narrow ; and it narrows still ; And yet it narrows ; for as I ascend, Or satiate or footsore, at each bend Some turn aside. To scale the higher hill ;^ To mark where in its cratch of stone the Rill, Ev'n as an infant that hath ta'en its fill From its young mother's bosom, slumbering lies ; And but for the bright droplet that supplies Th' unfailing source of life— its pulse's moving— You would not know it lived ;— The melodies Which o'er the thymy bed the wild bee moving Pours on th' attentive ear— All these to prize, Belongs to hearts that are to Nature true But upward footsteps still I mark, though few. LESSONS FROM NATURE. 25 TO THE RIVER LEA. Moses Browne. Sweet stream, where most my haunts delight, Whose scenes to solemn thought invite, May my calm life resemble thee, Such pleasure give, so useful be. As passing straws, and buoyant leaves, Thy yielding surface but receives, While pearls, that lure the searching eye, Deep-treasured in thy bosom lie ; May trifles such reception find, Float lightly transient o'er my mind, While weightier thoughts admission win, Sink its whole depths and rest within. As the large face the heavens expose, Thy pure reflecting mirror shows, Yet paints, in small terrestrial scenes, Some bordering flowers, or pendant greens ; 26 LESSONS FROM NATURE. So with resemblances divine My copying life direct to shine ; While Earth's faint forms, grown distant, less Their fewer images express. Teach me thy constancy ; to force O'er bars and straits a stubborn course ; Not idly in suspension held, Thy path not changed, though oft repelled. Thy patience teach my ruffled soul When like thy waves its motions roll, Though vexed to foam when passions fray ; In gentle smiles to pass away. Teach me thy rule of temperate bliss, Well pleased thy flowery banks to kiss, Yet by no sweets allured aside, Till ocean stops thy restless tide : To me a pattern wise dispense Meetly to taste the charms of sense ; Still pressing to my wished abode, Nor fix'd till at my centre — God. LESSONS FROM NATURE. 27 WRITTEN IN A VERY BEAUTIFUL SPRING. S. B. Say not, these flowers will quickly fade, This springtime soon have passed away, While they have been, for me they made Bright wreaths for many a distant day. Thank Heaven ! e'en transient things below, So lovely, never need depart ; The sweetest thoughts are those which grow, From memory on the faithful heart. The daisied spring, the home-like spot, The friend that used to please me well, May pass, but cannot be forgot ; — Love's image is indelible. 28 LESSONS FROM NATURE. ADDRESS TO THE SOLITARY. Wordsworth. As men from men Do, in the constitution of their souls, Differ, by mystery not to be explained ; And as we fall by various ways, and sink One deeper than another, self-condemned, Through manifold degrees of guilt and shame ; So manifold and various are the ways Of restoration, fashioned to the steps Of all infirmity, and tending all To the same point, — attainable by all ; Peace in ourselves, and union with our God. For you assuredly, a hopeful road Lies open : we have heard from you a voice At every moment softened in its course By tenderness of heart ; have seen your eye, Even like an Altar, lit by fire from Heaven, Kindle before us. — Your discourse this day, That like the fabled Lethe, wished to flow In creeping sadness, through oblivious shades Of death and night, has caught at every turn The colours of the Sun. Access for you LESSONS FROM NATURE. 29 Is yet preserved to principles of truth, Which the Imaginative Will upholds In seats of wisdom, not to be approached By the inferior Faculty that moulds, With her minute and speculative pains, Opinion, ever changing ! — I have seen A curious Child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped Shell ; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy ; for murmurings from within Were heard, — sonorous cadences ! whereby To his belief, the Monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native Sea. Even such a Shell the Universe itself Is to the ear of Faith ; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things ; Of ebb and flow, and ever- during power ; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation. Here you stand, Adore, and worship ; when you know it not ; Pious beyond the intention of your thought ; Devout above the meaning of your will. — Yes, you have felt, and may not cease to feel. d3 30 LESSONS FROM NATURE. The estate of Man would be indeed forlorn If false conclusions of the reasoning Power Made the eye blind, and closed the passages Through which the ear converses with the heart. Has not the Soul, the Being of your Life, Received a shock of awful consciousness, In some calm season, when these lofty Rocks At night's approach bring down the unclouded sky, To rest upon their circumambient walls ; A Temple framing of dimensions vast, And yet not too enormous for the sound Of human anthems, — choral song, or burst Sublime of instrumental harmony, To glorify the Eternal ! What if these Did never break the stillness that prevails Here, if the solemn Nightingale be mute, And the soft Woodlark here did never chant Her vespers, Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering Air Sends inspiration from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the caverned rocks ; The little Rills, and Waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes With the loud Streams ; and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale Stars, is heard Within the circuit of this Fabric huge, LESSONS FROM NATURE. 31 One Voice — the solitary Raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark-blue dome, Unseen ; perchance above all power of sight — An iron knell 1 with echoes from afar, Faint— and still fainter — as the cry with which The wanderer accompanies her flight Through the calm region, fades upon the ear, Diminishing by distance till it seemed To expire, yet from the abyss is caught again, And yet again recovered ! PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. NATURE AND ART. &. " Man goeth forth" with reckless trust Upon his wealth of mind. As if in self, a thing of dust Creative skill might find ; He schemes and toils ; stone, wood, and ore, Subject or weapon of his power. By arch and spire, by tower-girt heights, He would his boast fulfil ; By marble births, and mimic lights, — Yet lacks one secret still ; Where is the master-hand shall give To breathe, to move, to speak, to live ? PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 33 Oh, take away this shade of might, The puny toil of man, And let rich Nature in my sight Unfold her varied plan ; I cannot bear those sullen walls, Those eyeless towers, those tongueless halls. Art's laboured toys of highest name Are nerveless, cold, and dumb ; And man is fitted but to frame A coffin or a tomb ; Well suit, when sense is past away, Such lifeless works the lifeless clay. Here let me sit where wooded hills Skirt yon far-reaching plain ; While cattle bank its winding rills, And suns embrown its grain ; Such prospect is to me right dear, For freedom, health, and joy are here. There is a spirit ranging through The earth, the stream, the air ; Ten thousand shapes, garbs ever new, That restless One doth wear ; In colour, scent, and taste, and sound, The energy of life is found. 34 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. The leaves are rustling in the breeze, The bird chants forth her song ; From field to brook, o'er heath, o'er trees, The sunbeam glides along ; The insect, happy in its hour, Floats softly by, or sips the flower. Now dewy rain descends, and now Brisk showers the welkin shroud ; I care not, though with angry brow Frowns the red thunder-cloud ; Let hail-storm pelt, and lightning harm, "lis Nature's work and has its charm. Ah ! lovely Nature ! others dwell Full favoured in thy court ; I of thy smiles but hear them tell, And feed on their report ; Catching what glimpse an Ulcombe yields To strangers loitering in her fields. I go where form has ne'er unbent The sameness of its sway ; Where iron rule, stern precedent, Mistreat the graceful day ; To pine as prisoner in his cell, And yet be thought to love it well. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 35 Yet so His high dispose has set, Who binds on each his part ; Though absent, I may cherish yet An Ulcombe of the heart ; Calm verdant hope divinely given, And suns of peace and scenes of heaven ;- — A soul prepared His will to meet, Full fixed His work to do ; Not laboured into sudden heat, But inly born anew. — So living Nature, not dull Art, Shall plan my ways and rule my heart. 36 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. DEPENDENCE. Hickes' Devotions. Fain would my thoughts fly up to Thee, Thy peace, sweet Lord, to find, But when I offer, still the world Lays clogs upon my mind. Sometimes I climb a little way, And thence look down below ; How nothing there do all things seem, That here make such a show. Then round about I turn my eyes, To feast my hungry sight ; I meet with Heaven in every thing, In every thing, delight. I see Thy wisdom ruling all, And it with joy admire ; I see myself among such hopes, As set my heart on fire. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 37 When I have thus triumph'd awhile, And think to build my nest ; Some cross conceit comes fluttering by, And intercepts my rest. Then to the earth again I fall, And from the dust I cry, 'Twas not my wing, O Lord, but Thine, That mounted me so high. And now, my God, whether I rise, Or still lie down in dust ; Both I submit to Thy blest will, And both on Thee I trust. Guide, then, my way, who art Thyself My everlasting end ; That every step, or swift, or slow, Still to Thyself may tend. 38 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. CONSCIENCE. Southey. Free choice doth man possess of good or ill, — All were but mockery else. From Wisdom's way Too oft perverted by the tainted will To his rebellious nature drawn astray ; Therefore an inward monitor is given, A voice that answers to the law of Heaven. Frail as he is, and as an infant weak, The knowledge of his weakness is his strength ; For succour is vouchsafed to those who seek In humble faith sincere ; and when at length Death sets the disembodied spirit free, According to their deeds their lot shall be. Thus, should the chance of private fortune raise A transitory doubt, Death answers all. And in the scale of nations, if the ways Of Providence, mysterious we may call, Yet rightly viewed, all history doth impart Comfort, and hope, and strength, to the believing heart. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 39 SUPPORT UNDER AFFLICTION. Wordsworth. One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists, one only ; — an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence, and power ; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good. — The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the Will Supreme For Time and for Eternity ; by faith, Faith absolute in God, including hope, And the defence that lies in boundless love Of His perfections ; with habitual dread Of aught unworthily conceived ; endured Impatiently ; ill done or left undone, To the dishonour of His holy Name. Soul of our souls, and safeguard of the world ! Sustain, Thou only canst, the sick of heart ; Restore their languid spirits, and recall Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine 1 40 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. I WILL LEAD THEM IN PATHS THAT THEY HAVE NOT KNOWN. From "the Lost Brooch.' Man's best estate is poor and vain, A feeble transient show ; His worst, a weary lot of pain, And ever present woe. Say, must not want and misery Lead straight, my Saviour, up to Thee ! Not paths in tangled solitude, Through rolling waters deep, Through mighty fires, in tempest rude, Up sharp and craggy steep ; Not these a path secure may be, To lead, my Saviour, up to Thee ! Not sorrow's rod, nor sufferings dire, Not faith without a doubt, Not angel's tongue, nor prophet's fire, Not martyr's blood poured out ; Not these alone, sure path may be To lead, my Saviour, up to Thee ! PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 41 Ah, who can tell the hidden way, His feet so soon must tread ; How he shall follow and obey, Or where he shall be led ? Unknown, untried, the paths must be, That lead, my Saviour, up to Thee ! Through flowery meads, through verdant glades, By waters still and clear ; Or through dark vales and dismal shades, Mid landscapes bleak and drear : Such may the hidden pathway be, That leads, my Saviour, up to Thee ! What matter, — whether through delight, Or led through vale of tears, Or seen at once, or hid from sight, The glorious way appears ; If step by step the path we see, That leads, my Saviour, up to Thee ! e3 42 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. THE PULLEY. George Herbert. When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, " Let us," said He, " pour on him all we can ; Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span." So strength first made away ; Then Beauty flow'd, then Wisdom, Honour, Pleasure, When almost all was out, God made a stay ; Perceiving that alone of all His treasure Rest in the bottom lay. " For if I should," said He, " Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore My gifts instead of Me ; And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature : So both should losers be. " Yet let him keep the rest ; But keep them, in repining restlessness. Let him be rich, and weary ; that, at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast." PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 43 LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. Unto the godly there ariseth up light in the darkness. Lyra Apostolica. S. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on ! The night is dark, and I am far from home — Lead Thou me on ! Keep Thou my'feet ; I do not ask to see The distant scene, — one step enough for me. I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on. I loved to choose and see my path ; but now, Lead Thou me on ! I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will : remember not past years. So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still Will lead me on, O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till The night is gone ; And with the morn those Angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. 44 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. FAITH. " Yea, though I pass through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; for Thou art with me." Anon. The child alone, in trembling goes Into the darkened room, His timid eyes in terror close Against the silent gloom. But if his father go before, And hold him by the hand, And keep him close — he fears no more, But boldly takes his stand. And if he hear his father's voice And clasp his hand the while, His little heart can e'en rejoice, And he can look and smile. So let us follow to the tomb, The steps that Jesus trod ; He's gone before, and through the gloom He leads us to our God. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 45 SONNET. Rev. R. C. Trench. Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident, It is the very place God meant for thee ; And shouldst thou there small scope of action see, Do not for this give room to discontent ; Nor let the time thou owest to God be spent In idly dreaming how thou mightest be In what concerns thy spiritual life, more free From outward hinderance or impediment. For presently this hinderance thou shalt find That, without which all goodness were a task So slight, that Virtue never could grow strong : And wouldst thou do one duty to His mind, The Imposer's — over-burdened thou shalt ask, And own thy need of grace to help ere long. CHASTISEMENT. Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me. Lyra Apostolica. Lord, in this dust Thy sovereign voice First quickened love divine ; 46 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. I am all Thine, — Thy care and choice, My very praise is Thine. I praise Thee, while Thy providence In childhood frail I trace, For blessings given, ere dawning sense Could seek or scan Thy grace ; Blessings in boyhood's marvelling hour, Bright dreams, and fancyings strange ; Blessings, when reason's awful power Gave thought a bolder range ; Blessings of friends, which to my door Unasked, unhoped, have come ; And, choicer still, a countless store Of eager smiles at home. Yet, Lord, in memory's fondest place I shrine those seasons sad, When, looking up, I saw Thy face In kind austereness clad. I would not miss one sigh or tear, Heart-pang, or throbbing brow ; Sweet was the chastisement severe, And sweet its memory now. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 47 Yes ! let the fragrant scars abide, Love-tokens in Thy stead, Faint shadows of the spear-pierced side, And thorn-encompassed head. And such Thy loving force be still, Mid life's fierce shifting fray, Shaping to Truth self's froward will Along Thy narrow way. Deny me wealth ; far, far remove The lure of power or name ; Hope thrives in straits, in weakness Love, And faith in this world's shame. 48 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. THE ORDER OF PROVIDENCE. Spenser. u Of things unseen how canst thou deem aright ?** Then answered the righteous Artegall, " Sith thou misdeems't so much of things in sight ? What though the sea with waves continual Do eat the earth, it is no more at all ; Ne is the earth the less, or loseth aught ; For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto another brought ; For there is nothing lost that may be found if sought. Likewise the earth is not augmented more By all that dying into it do fade ; For of the earth they formed were of yore : However gay their blossom or their blade Do flourish now, they into dust shall vade. What wrong then is it if that when they die They turn to that whereof they first were made ? All in the power of their great Maker lie ; All creatures must obey the voice of the Most Hi gh. They live, they die like as He doth ordain, Ne ever any asketh reason why. The hills do not the lowly dales disdain ; The dales do not the lofty hills envy. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 49 He maketh kings to sit in sovereignty ; He maketh subjects to their power obey ; He pulleth down, He setteth up on high ; He gives to this, from that He takes away ; For all we have is His : what He list do He may. Whatever thing is done, by Him is done, Ne any may His mighty will withstand ; Ne, any may His sovereign power shun, Ne loose that He hath bound with steadfast band ; In vain therefore dost thou now take in hand To call to count, or weigh His works anew, Whose counsel's depth thou canst not understand, Sith of things subject to thy daily view Thou dost not know the causes nor their courses due. For take thy balance, if thou be so wise, And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow ; Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise ; Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow : But if the weight of these thou canst not show, Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall : For how canst thou those greater secrets know, That dost not know the least thing of them all ? Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small. F 50 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. DISCIPLINE. George Herbert. Throw away Thy rod : Throw away Thy wrath ! my God Take the gentle path ! For my heart's desire Unto Thine is bent ; 1 aspire To a full consent. Not a word or look I affect to own But by book, And Thy book alone. Though I fall, I weep ; Though I halt in pace, Yet I creep To the throne of grace. Then let wrath remove ; Love will do the deed ; For, with love Stony hearts will bleed. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 51 Love is swift of foot : Love's a man of war, And can shoot And can hit from far. Who can scape his bow ? That which wrought on Thee Brought Thee low, — Needs must work on me. Throw away Thy rod ! Though man frailties hath, Thou art God ! Throw away Thy wrath. 52 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. THE REMOVAL OF THE RIGHTEOUS, A WARNING TO THE WICKED. Henry Delaune. Ere God on Sodom stretch'd His flaming hand, He had a care to send just Lot away ; So mostly still, when He will scourge a land, Whom He best loves, He puts out of the way. Early set forth on your eternal race ; Th' ascent is steep and craggy ; you must climb ; God, at all times, has promised sinners grace, If they repent ; — but He ne'er promised Time. Cheat not yourselves, as most, who then prepare For Death, when life is almost turn'd to fume ; One thief was saved, that no man need despair, And but one thief, that no one might presume. TYRE. Lyra Apostolica. High on the stately wall The spear of Arvad hung ; Through corridor and hall Gemaddin's war-note rung. PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 53 Where are they now ? the note is o'er ; Yes ! for a thousand years and more Five fathom deep beneath the sea Those halls have lain all silently ; Nought listing save the mermaid's song, While rude sea-monsters roam the corridors along. Far from the wondering East Tubal and Javan came, And Araby the blest, And Kedar, mighty name Now on that shore, a lonely guest, Some dripping fisherman may rest, Watching on rock or naked stone His dark net spread before the sun, Unconscious of the dooming lay, That broods o'er that dull spot, and there shall brood for aye. THE TENTH PLAGUE. Cowley. It was the time when the still Moon Was mounted softly to her noon And dewy sleep, which from Night's secret springs arose, Gently as Nile the land o'erflows. f3 54 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. When, lo ! from the high countries of refined day, The golden heaven without allay — Michael, the warlike prince, does downward fly, Swift as the journeys of the sight, Swift as the race of light, And with his winged will cuts through the yielding sky. He passed through many a star, and, as he passed, Shone (like a star in them) more brightly there Than they did in their sphere. On a tall pyramid's pointed head he stopped at last And a mild look of sacred pity cast Down on the sinful land where he was sent, T' inflict a tardy punishment. " Ah ! yet," said he, M yet stubborn king ! repent, Whilst thus unarmed I stand, Ere the keen sword of God fill my commanded hand ; Suffer but yet thyself, and thine to live : Who would, alas ! believe, That it for man," said he, " So hard to be forgiven should be, And yet for God so easy to forgive !" He spoke, and downwards flew, And o'er his shining form a well- cut cloud he threw, Made of the blackest fleece of Night, And close-wrought to keep in the powerful light, Yet wrought so fine it hinder'd not his flight ; PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. 55 But through the key-holes and the chinks of doors, And through the narrowest walks of crooked pores, He passM more swift and free, Than in wide air the wanton swallows flee. He took a pointed pestilence in his hand ; The spirits of thousand mortal poisons made The strongly temper'd blade, The sharpest sword that e'er was laid Up in the magazines of God to scourge a wicked land. Through Egypt's wicked land his march he took, And as he march'd the sacred first-born strook Of every womb ; none did he spare, None from the meanest beast to Cenchre's purple heir. The swift approach of endless night Breaks ope the wounded sleepers' rolling eyes ; They awake the rest with dying cries, And darkness doubles the affright ; The mixed sounds of scattered deaths they hear, And lose their parted souls 'twixt grief and fear. Louder than all, the shrieking women's voice Pierces this chaos of confused noise ; As brighter lightning cuts a way Clear and distinguished through the day : With less complaints the Zoan temples sound, When the adored heifer's drown'd, And no true-mark'd successor to be found. 56 PROVIDENCE AND PROBATION. Whilst health, and strength, and gladness, does possess The festal Hebrew cottages ; The blest destroyer comes not there, To interrupt the sacred cheer That new begins their well-reformed year : Upon their doors he read and understood, God's protection, writ in blood ; Well was he skill'd in th' character Divine ; And, though he pass'd by it in haste, He bow'd and worshipp'd, as he past, The mighty mystery through its humble sign. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. EARLY RISING AND PRAYER. Henry Vaughan. When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave To do the like ; our bodies but forerun The spirit's duty : true hearts spread and heave Unto their God as flowers do to the sun ; Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep. Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer should Dawn with the day ; there are set, awful hours 'Twixt heaven and us ; the manna was not good After sun-rising ; far-day sullies flowers : Rise to prevent the sun ; sleep doth sins glut, And heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut. 58 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. Walk with thy fellow-creatures : note the hush And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning hymn ; each bush And oak doth know I AM. — Canst thou not sing ? O leave thy cares and follies ! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day. Serve God before the world : let Him not go Until thou hast a blessing ; then resign The whole unto Him, and remember who Prevail'd by wrestling ere the sun did shine : Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven. Mornings are mysteries : the first, World's youth, Man's resurrection, and the future's bud, Shroud in their births ; the crown of life, light, truth, Is styl'd their star ; the stone and hidden food : Three blessings wait upon them, one of which Should move — they make us holy, happy,j*ich. When the world's up, and every swarm abroad, Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay ; Despatch necessities ; life hath a load Which must be carried on and safely may : Yet keep those cares without thee ; let the heart Be God's alone, and choose the better part. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 59 CONSTANCY. George Herbert. Who is the honest man ? — He that doth still and strongly, good pursue ; To God, his neighbour, and himself most true. Whom neither force nor fawning, can Unpin, or wrench from giving all their due. Whose honesty is not So loose or easy, that a ruffling wind Can blow away, or glittering look it blind. Who rides his sure and even trot, While the world now rides by, now lags behind. W T ho when great trials come, Nor seeks nor shuns them : but does calmly stay, Till he the thing and the example weigh. All being brought into a sum, What place, or person, calls for, he doth pay. Whom none can work or woo To use in any thing a trick or sleight ; For above all things he abhors deceit. His words, and works, and fashions too, All of a piece ; and all are clear and straight. 60 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. Who never melts or thaws At close temptations. When the day is done, His goodness sets not, but in dark can run. The sun to others writeth laws ; And is their virtue. Virtue is his sun. Who when he is to treat With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway, Allows for that, and keeps his constant way. Whom others' faults do not defeat ; But, though men fail him, yet his part doth play. Whom nothing can procure, When the wide world runs bias, from his will To writhe his limbs ; and share, not mend, the ill.— This is the mark-man, safe and sure ; Who still is right, and prays to be so still. A HAPPY LIFE. Sir H. Wotton. How happy is he born or taught, That serveth not another's will ; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his highest skill. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 61 Whose passions not his masters are, Whose soul is still prepared for death ; Not tied unto the world with care Of prince's ear or vulgar breath. Who hath his life from rumours freed, Whose conscience is his strong retreat ; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make oppressors great. Who envies none whom chance doth raise, Or vice : who never understood How deepest wounds are given with praise, Nor rules of state, but rules of good. Who God doth late and early pray More of His grace than gifts to send ; And entertains the harmless day With a well chosen book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all. 62 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. SONNET. Rev. R. C. Trench. We live not in our moments or our years — The Present we fling from us as the rind Of some sweet Future, which we after find Bitter to taste, or bind that in with fears, And water it beforehand with our tears — Vain tears for that which never may arrive : Meanwhile the joy whereby we ought to live Neglected or unheeded disappears. Wiser it were to welcome and make ours Whate'er of good, though small the present brings — Kind greetings, sunshine, song of birds and flowers, With a child's pure delight in little things ; And of the griefs unborn to rest secure, Knowing that mercy ever will endure. THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE AND UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES. Cowley. Why dost thou heap up wealth which thou must quit, Or what is worse, be left by it ? Why dost thou load thyself when thou'rt to fly, Oh man, ordained to die ? RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 63 Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, Thou who art under ground to lie ? Thou sovv'st and plantest, but no fruit must see, For Death, alas ! is sowing thee. Suppose, thou Fortune couldst to tameness bring, And clip or pinion her wing ; Suppose, thou couldst on Fate so far prevail, As not to cut off thy entail ; Yet Death at all that subtilty will laugh ; Death will that foolish gardener mock, Who does a slight and annual plant engraff Upon a lasting stock. Thou dost thyself wise and industrious deem ; A mighty husband thou wouldst seem ; Fond man ! like a bought slave thou all the while, Dost but for others sweat and toil. Officious fool ! that needs must meddling be In business, that concerns not thee ! For when to future years thou extend'st thy cares, Thou deal'st in other men's affairs. 64 BULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. Ev'n aged men, as if they truly were Children again, for age prepare ; Provisions for long travel they design, In the last point of their short line. Wisely the ant against poor winter hoards The stock, which summer's wealth affords : In grasshoppers, that must at autumn die, How vain were such an industry ! Of power and honour the deceitful light Might half excuse our cheated sight, If it of life the whole short time would stay And be our sunshine all the day ; Like lightning, that, begot but in a cloud (Though shining bright, and speaking loud), vVhilst it begins, concludes its violent race, And where it gilds, it wounds the place. Oh, scene of fortune, which dost fair appear Only to men that stand not near ! Proud poverty, that tinsel bravery wears ! And, like a rainbow, painted tears ! RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 65 Be prudent, and the shore in prospect keep ; In a weak boat trust not the deep ; Placed beneath envy, above envying rise ; Pity great men, great things despise. The wise example of the heavenly lark, Thy fellow-poet, Cowley, mark ; Above the clouds let thy proud music sound, Thy humble nest build on the ground. DEEDS NOT WORDS. Lyra Apostolica. I Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng ; They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong. But he, who lets his feelings run In soft luxurious flow, Shrinks when hard service must be done, And faints at every woe. Faith's meanest deed more favour bears, Where hearts and wills are weighed, Than brighest transports, choicest prayers, Which bloom their hour and fade. g3 66 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. DUTY. Wordsworth. But know we not that he, who intermits The appointed task and duties of the day, Untunes full oft the pleasures of the day ; Checking the finer spirits that refuse To flow, when purposes are lightly changed ? FAREWELL TO SPLENDID FOLLIES. Sir Philip Sidney. Leave me, O Love ! which reachest but to dust ; And thou my mind, aspire to higher things, Grow rich in that which never taketh rust : Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be ; Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light, That doth both shine, and give us sight to see. Oh ! take fast hold, let that light be thy guide In this small course which birth draws out of death ; And think how evil becomes him to slide, Who seeketh Heaven and comes of Heavenly birth. Then farewell, world, thy uttermost I see, Eternal love, maintain thy life in me. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 67 TRUE FREEDOM. S. T. Coleridge. -Scenes so awful With flashing light, force wisdom on us all ? E'en women at the distaff hence may see, That bad men may rebel, but ne'er be free ; May whisper, when the waves of faction foam, None love their country but who love their home ; For freedom can with those alone abide, Who wear the golden chain with honest pride, Of love and duty, at their own fire-side : While mad ambition ever doth caress Its own sure fate, in its own restlessness ! FORE-KNOWLEDGE. George Withers. I do not care to be inquisitive, How many weeks or months I have to live, For how is't like, that I should better grow, When I my time shall twelve month longer know, If I dare act a villany, and yet Know I may die whilst I am doing it. 68 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. RAILROAD SONNETS. The Master saith, " Wise in their generation, Yea, wiser than the glorious sons of light Are this world's children." Ever true and right Are all His sayings ! — and this declaration Most right and true ! He that from the gate Of morning issues, bringing illumination On th' works of God, cannot anticipate Their zeal ; all day they toil, and deepest night Beholds them at their several labours wait. Nor only thus they teach ; in all they do, Zealous they are, but they are ordered too ! When we are also ordered, — not till then, Will the world own her Sovereign Lord, and men Believe the message which we bear is true. ANTICIPATION. True child of thy dear Mother, do not waste One sigh of sorrow nor across thy brow Let shade of anger pass, if, while as thou Through this fair realm of England with such haste Art speeding as thy fathers did not know, Thou seest on either hand, in shapely row, RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 69 For Earth's mean purposes, such structures rise, That, as the east has sung, high agencies Minister unto the bidding, it would seem, Of the magician Man. In Nature's scheme We learn by experiment in meaner thing To attain to mastery. Thus Israel's King On ceiled house his earlier care bestowed ; And then from curtains called the ark of God. REFLECTION. Well thou hast sped ! Not faster ever clove The finny denizen his crystal deep. Nor faster, hurrying from his airy steep, Hath rush'd adown th' imperial bird of Jove. 'Tis likest what we feel when dreamy sleep Bears us to some high cliff — then from above Down, down we sink to Earth's profoundest pit. For this, hath man elicited its treasure From the deep mine, made fire a servant fit To work his purposes of ease or pleasure, And the wave aeriform. Be thankful, but be wise ! By these material masters* do not measure Man's true advancement ; nor do thou despise Life's earlier calm, and old time's charities. * " Weak masters though ye be."— Tempest. 70 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. OLD SELF AND NEW SELF. Lyra Apostolica. New Self. Why sittest thou on that sea-girt rock With downward look and sadly dreaming eye ? Playest thou beneath with Proteus' flock, Or with the far-bound sea-bird wouldest thou fly ? Old Self. I sit upon this sea-girt rock With downward look and dreaming eye, But neither do I sport with Proteus' flock, Nor with the far-bound sea-bird would I fly. I list the splash so clear and chill Of yon old fisher's solitary oar : I watch the waves that rippling still Chase one another o'er the marble shore. New Self. Yet from the splash of yonder oar No dreamy sound of sadness comes to me : And yon fresh waves that beat the shore, How merrily they splash, how merrily ! RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 71 Old Self. I mourn for the delicious days, When those calm sounds fell on my childish ear, A stranger yet to the wild ways Of triumph and remorse, of hope and fear. New Self. Mournest thou, poor soul, and wouldest thou yet Call back the things which shall not, cannot be ? Heaven must be won, not dreamed ; thy task is set, Peace was not made for earth, nor rest for thee. 72 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. SONNET. Rev. R. C. Trench. To leave unseen so many a glorious sight, To leave so many lands unvisited, To leave so many worthiest books unread, Unrealized so many visions bright ; Oh ! wretched, yet inevitable spite Of our short span, and we must yield our breath, And wrap us in the lazy coil of death, So much remaining of unproved delight. But hush, my soul, and vain regrets, be stilled, Find rest in Him who is the complement Of whatsoe'er transcends your mortal doom, Of broken hope and frustrated intent ; In the clear vision and aspect of whom All wishes and all longings are fulfilled. BOOKS. George Withers. For many books I care not, and my store Might now suffice me, though I had no more Than God's two Testaments, and therewithal That mighty volume which the world we call. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 73 For these well look'd on, well in mind preserv'd, The present Age's passages observed ; My private actions seriously o'erviewed, My thoughts recalled, and what of them ensued, Are books, which better far instruct me can, Than all the other paper works of man ; And some of these I may be reading too, Where'er I come or whatsoe'er I do. FASTIDIOUSNESS. Lyra Apostolica. I Time was, I shrank from what was right, From fear of what was wrong ; I would not brave the sacred fight, Because the foe was strong. But now I cast that finer sense And sorer shame aside ; Such dread of sin was indolence, Such aim at heaven was pride. So, when my Saviour calls, I rise And calmly do my best ; Leaving to Him, with silent eyes Of hope and fear, the rest. H 74 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. I step, I mount where He has led ; Men count my haltings o'er ; — I know them ; yet, though self I dread, I love His precept more. GREY HAIRS. William Hunts. These hairs of age are messengers That bid me fast, repent, and pray ; They be of death the harbingers, That both prepare and dress the way. Wherefore I joy that you may see, Upon my head such hairs to be. They be the lines that lead the length, How far my race is for to run : They say my youth is fled with strength, And how old age is weak begun. The which I feel, and you may see, Upon my head such lines to be. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 75 They be the strings of sober sound, Whose music is harmonical : Their tones declare a time from ground I came, and how thereto I shall. Wherefore I joy that you may see, Upon my head such strings to be. God grant to those that white hairs have, No worse them take than I have meant : That after they be laid in grave, Their souls may joy their lives well spent. God grant likewise that you may see, Upon your head such hairs to be. Supposed to be by Nicholas Breton. I would I were an excellent divine, That had the Bible at my fingers* ends, That men might hear out of this mouth of mine How God doth make His enemies His friends ; Rather than with a thundering long prayer Be led into presumption, or despair. 76 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. This would I be, and would none other be But a religions servant of my God : And know there is none other God but He, And willingly to suffer Mercy's rod, Joy in His grace and live but in His love, And seek my bliss but in the world above. Then would 1 frame a kind of faithful prayer For all estates within the state of grace ; That careful love might never know despair, Nor servile fear might fearful love deface ; And this would I both day and night devise To make my humble spirit's exercise. And I would read the rules of sacred life, Persuade the troubled soul to patience, The husband care, and comfort to the wife, To child and servant due obedience, Faith to the friend and to the neighbour peace, That love might live and quarrels cease. Pray for the health of all that are diseased, Confession unto all that are convicted, And patience unto all that are displeased, And comfort unto all that are afflicted, And mercy unto all that have offended, And grace to all that all may be amended. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 77 HOME. Joseph Beaumont. What is house and what is home, Where with freedom thou hast room, And may'st to all tyrants say, This you cannot take away ? 'Tis no thing with doors and walls, Which at every earthquake falls, No fair towers, whose princely fashion Is but plunder's invitation ; No stout marble structure, where Walls, eternity do dare ; No brass gates, no bars of steel, Tho' Time's teeth they scorn to feel : Brass is not so bold as pride, If on Power's wings it ride ; Marble's not so hard as spite Arm'd with lawless strength and might. Right and just possession, be Potent names, when laws stand free : But if once that rampart fall, Stoutest thieves inherit all : To be rich and weak's a sure And sufnc l ent forfeiture. h 3 78 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. Seek no more abroad, say I, House and home, but turn thine eye Inward, and observe thy breast ; There alone dwells solid rest : That's a close immured tower Which can mock all hostile power. To thyself a tenant be, And inhabit safe and free. Say not that this house is small, Girt up in a narrow wall : In a cleanly, sober mind, Heaven itself full room doth find. Th' infinite Creator can Dwell in it, and may not man ? Here, content, make thy abode With thyself and with thy God. Here in this sweet privacy, May'st thou with thyself agree, And keep house in peace, though all The universe's fabric fall. No disaster can distress thee : Nor no fury dispossess thee, Let all war and plunder come, Still may'st thou dwell safe at home. Home is every where to thee, Who canst thine own dwelling be ; RULES and lessons foh life. 79 Yea, though ruthless death assail thee, Still thy soul's thine own ; and she To an house remov'd shall be, An eternal house above, Wall'd and roof d and pav'd with love. There shall these mud walls of thine, Gallantly repair'd, outshine Mortal stars ;— no stars shall be In that heaven but such as thee. 80 KULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. PEACE. Rev. H. Alford. I have found Peace in the bright earth And in the sunny sky : By the low voice of summer seas, And where streams murmur by. I find it in the quiet tone Of voices that I love : By the flickering of a twilight fire, And in a leafless grove ; I find it in the solemn flow Of solitary thought : In calm half-meditated dreams, And reasonings self-taught ; But seldom have I found such peace As in the soul's deep joy Of passing onward free from harm Through every day's employ. RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 81 If gems we seek, we only tire, And lift our hopes too high ; The constant flowers that line our way Alone can satisfy. PSALM XLIX. From the Psalter. This lesson, all ye nations, hear, All dwellers of the world, give ear, Children of high and low ; Ye nameless band, and ye of race Renown'd — the wealthy and the base — Together mark and know. My mouth would words of wisdom choose, My heart true counsel deeply muse, I stoop, mine ear to fill With a dark strain ; my harp would try A dim mysterious melody. — " Why should I fear in ill?" 82 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. M Why should dark days my spirit daunt, When sins of traitors round me haunt ? They who on gold rely, AVho triumph o'er their swelling heaps, None of them all his brother keeps, None may redeem or buy ; None with his God his ransom clear — Their soul's redemption is too dear, Still paid, and still to pay ; Not one achieves a deathless doom, An eye that ne'er may see the tomb, Victorious o'er decay. None tries a ransom ; for he sees The wise man die, stern Ruin seize The brutish souls and blind, Their store, their might, to aliens cast. — Yet domes for evermore to last They build them in their mind. Their tabernacles for all time They rear ; so dream they : town and clime By their own names they call ; — Yet mortal man in glorious state, — Where is he ? will his greatness wait Till dew of morning fall ? RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. 83 Is he not like each grazing beast ? All are cut off; their name hath ceas'd, Behold the way they walk. O, senseless ! and in years to come, Men shall accept their fearful doom With awe and wondering talk. Even as a flock array 'd are they For the dark grave ; Death guides their way, Death is their shepherd now : The just shall rule them in the morn, The grave will waste their frame forlorn, Nor rest nor home allow. My soul from touch of deadly doom The Lord redeems ; He takes me home. Then wherefore in dismay, Though here and there one wealthy grow, Or if his house all-glorious show ? He carries nought away. In death he leaves it all : his crown Of glory goes not with him down. What though alive he cheer His soul, and call him great and blest ? (And if thou make thine own the best, The world will praise thee here :) 84 RULES AND LESSONS FOR LIFE. Yet to the portion of his sires That soul must go, th' ethereal fires Never again to mark. Man thoughtless in his high estate, With grazing herds may find a mate : They perish in the dark." THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. PRIVATE JUDGMENT. George Withers. In my religion, I dare entertain No fancies hatched in mine own weak brain, Nor private spirits ; but am ruled by The Scriptures, and that Church Authority, Which with the ancient Faith doth best agree ; But new opinions will not down with me. When I would learn, I never greatly care, So truth they teach me, who my Teachers were ; In points of faith I look not on the Man ; Nor Eeza, Calvin, neither Luther can More things, without just proof, persuade me to Than any honest parish Clerk can do. 3 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. The ancient Fathers (where consent I find) Do make me, without doubting, of their mind ; But where in his opinion any one Of those great Pillars, I shall find alone, (Except in questions which indifferent are, And such as till his time unmoved were) I shun his doctrine ; for this swayeth me, " No man alone in points of faith can be." RELIGION. From Daniels Musophilus. Sacred Religion ; mother of form and fear ! How gorgeously sometimes dost thou sit deck'd ! What pompous vestures do we make thee wear, What stately piles we prodigal erect ! How sweet perfum'd thou art ! how shining clear ! How solemnly observed ! with what respect ! Another time all plain, all quite threadbare ; Thou must have all within, and nought without, Sit poorly without light, disrob'd : no care Of outward grace, t' amuse the poor devout ; Powerless unfollowM : scarcely men can spare The necessary rites to set thee out. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 87 THE CHURCHMAN TO HIS LAMP. Lyra Apostolica. 7- Come, twinkle in my lonely room, Companion true in hours of gloom ; Come, light me on a little space, The heavenly vision to retrace, By Saints and Angels loved so well, — My Mother's glories ere she fell. There was a time, my friendly Lamp, When, far and wide, in Jesus' camp, Oft as the foe dark inroads made, They watched and fasted, wept and pray'd, But now they feast and slumber on, And say, " Why pine o'er evil done ?" Then hours of Prayer, in welcome round, Far-setered hearts together bound : Seven times a day, on bended knee, They to their Saviour cried ; and we — One hour we find in seven long days, Before our God to sit and gaze ! 88 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. Then, lowly Lamp, a ray like thine Waked half the world to hymns divine, Now it is much if here and there One dreamer, by thy genial glare, Trace the dim Past, and slowly climb The steep of Faith's triumphant prime. Yet, by His grace, whose breathing gives Life to the faintest spark that lives, I trim thee, precious Lamp, once more, Our fathers' armoury to explore, And sort and number wistfully A few bright weapons, bath'd on high. And may thy guidance ever tend Where gentle thoughts with courage blend ; Thy pure and steady gleaming rest On pages with the Cross imprest ; Till, touch'd with lightning of calm zeal, Our fathers' very heart we feel. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 89 SONNET. Rev. George Wheeler. God of our Fathers ! who in this our land, When her sworn foes, with fury drunk and blind, To work the ruin of Thy Church designed, Didst blast their counsels, and Thy outstretched hand, Where her high towers in beauteous order stand, Was as a shield of flame ; again combin'd Men of all creeds, with men whose ulcerous mind Frets at all creeds alike, a recreant band, Again they rage ; and those who should be ours With more than wishes, more than loud applause, Abet their purpose ; still, though Danger lowers, Strong in Thy strength we will not shrink or pause, But on to meet it ! Nerve, oh ! nerve our powers, God of our Fathers ! we maintain Thy cause. THE MAGNIFICAT. From the Cathedral. Methought I saw 'tween walls of deep decay, Where thro' a mouldering portal look'd the moon, A solitary Vestal kneel and pray, Within that aged temple all alone, i 3 90 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. With adoration still and pensive grown ; Thus in a tottering world to ruin borne, The Church doth trim her lamp, and wait the morn. Tho' worn with watching, and with sadness clad, Yet, oft as break the joyous stars on high, She with that Virgin-mother's song is glad, " Tho' poor am I, Thee will I magnify; Tho' no sublunar joy, nor hope have I, Nor pillow of repose, nor worldly choice. Yet I in God my Saviour will rejoice." She has no voice ; but in that Virgin's song Divinely meditates her holier praise, Till her aisled courts bear the deep notes along To latest time ; each evening stirs the blaze, Filling her temple with the kindling rays, And wakes the odorous store, till, far and nigh, The house is fragrant with her piety. Holiest of women ! whom the Heavenly King Chose for Himself, in earthly shrine inurn'd ; Happiest of women ! for in thee the spring Of all our woes back to its fount was turn'd, Most honour'd — cloud wherein light's centre burn'd ' But then dishonour'd most, when thou art seen An idol, God and man to stand between. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 91 Alas ! man's heart, in sinful consciousness, Some fond and frai illusion still wil Iframe, Which to the house of health may find access, Without repentance or a sinner's shame : There is One only all-prevailing Name, But unto Him none but the pure can look, None but the penitent His presence brook. Blessed was she on whose retirement broke That Angel form, the star-portending morn ; And blessed she, upon whose bosom woke, And slept, the Eternal Child, the Virgin-born, Who like a robe the Heaven of Heavens had worn ; But oh, more blessed, Lord, by Thy dear name, Is he who hears Thy word, and keeps the same. For not in thee, thou maiden-mother mild, As superstition deem'd, 'tis not in thee That we rejoice, meek mother undefined, But in our God alone both thou and we : For thou wast compass'd with humanity, And Christ alone thy light, thy strength, thy tower, Thine innocence, thy victory, thy dower. Nor at thy feet adore we, tho' so bright Upon thy head the gleams of ages pour ; But with the Church rejoice, whose orient light 92 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. Shadowed thee forth in women famed of yore, With Hannah sung, and Miriam on the shore, " The Lord Himself hath triumph'd gloriously, And thrown the horse and rider in the sea." For how can we in our own selves rejoice ; Our better hope it hath no certain stay, Our will no steadfastness, and when our choice Seems firmest set, pride shakes the tower of clay, Too high for lowly building charity ; Thou on Thy Church hast shower'd down Thy love, And we are rich in her and Thee above. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 93 DEDICATION OF A CHURCH. Brumynond. Jerusalem, that place divine, The vision of sweet peace is nam'd, In Heaven her glorious turrets shine, Her walls of living stones are fram'd ; While angels guard her on each side, Fit company for such a bride. She deck'd in new attire from Heaven Her wedding chamber, now descends, Prepar'd in marriage to be given To Christ, on whom her joy depends. Her walls, wherewith she is enclos'd, And streets, are of pure gold composM. The gates, adorn'd with pearls most bright, The way to hidden glory show ; And thither by the blessed might Of faith in Jesus' merits, go All those who are on Earth distress'd, Because they have Christ's name profess'd. 94 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. These stones the workmen dress and beat, Before they thoroughly polished are ; Then each is in his proper seat Established by the builder's care, In this fair frame to stand for ever, So join'd that them no force can sever. To God, who sits on highest seat, Glory and power given be ; To Father, Son, and Paraclete, Who reign in equal dignity ; Whose boundless power we still adore, And sing Their praise for evermore. COLLEGE CHAPEL. Rev. F. W. Faber. A shady seat by some cool mossy spring, Where solemn trees close round, and make a gloom, And faint and earthy smells, as from a tomb, Unworldly thoughts and quiet wishes bring : Such hast thou been to me each morn and eve ; Best loved when most thy call did interfere With schemes of toil or pleasure, that deceive And cheat young hearts; for then thou mad'st me feel THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 95 The holy Church more nigh, a thing to fear : Sometimes, all day with books, thoughts proud and wild Have risen, till I saw the sunbeams steal Through painted glass at evensong, and weave Their threefold tints upon the marble near, Faith, prayer, and love, the spirit of a child ! LENT. George Herbert. Welcome, dear feast of Lent : who loves not thee, He loves not Temperance, or Authority, But is composed of passion. The Scriptures bid us fast : the Church says, now : Give to thy Mother what thou wouldst allow To every Corporation. The humble soul composed of love and fear, Begins at home and lays the burden there When doctrines disagree : He says in things which use hath justly got, I am a scandal to the Church, and not The Church is so to me. 96 THE CHUHCH AND HER ORDINANCES. True christians should be glad of an occasion To use their temperance, seeking no evasion When good and seasonable ; Unless Authority, which should increase The obligation in us, make it less And Power itself disable. Besides, the cleanness of sweet Abstinence, Quick thoughts and motions, at a small expense, A face not fearing light : Whereas in fulness there are skittish fumes, Sour exhalations and dishonest rheums, Revenging the delight. Then those same pendant profits, w r hich the Spring And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing And goodness of the deed. Neither ought other men's abuse of Lent Spoil the good use ; lest by the argument We forfeit all our Creed. 'Tis true we cannot reach Christ's fortieth day ; Yet to go part of that religious way Is better than to rest : We cannot reach our Saviour's purity ; Yet we are bid, " Be holy e'en as He." In both let's do our best. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 97 Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone, Is much more sure to meet with Him, than one That travelleth by-ways. Perhaps my God, though He be far before, May turn, and take me by the hand, and more, May strengthen my decays. Yet, Lord, instruct us to improve our fast By starving sin, and taking such repast As may our faults control : That every man may revel at his door, Not in his parlour ; banqueting the poor, And among those his soul. EASTER. Lord John Manners. The tiny flowers that cowered beneath The Winter's angry wind, Called by young Spring's refreshing breath, To life their entrance find. 98 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. The tender blades spring up again, To bless the hungry earth ; While modest suns, and genial rain, Watch fondly o'er their birth. All gentle things that move above The freshly budded ground, The pledges sure of parent's love, At Easter-tide are found. As bursts the flower from wintry bands To sweetness and to bloom, So the Redeemer of all lands Bursts from his riven tomb. Thus does all Nature speak a voice r I hat all who run may hear, And bids the Christian's heart rejoice Beside his Saviour's bier. And thus the Church doth raise each year Her high triumphant song, W T hose notes her faithful sons may cheer All the bright summer long. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 99 The trees that spread abroad their leaves Beneath the suns of June, The red ripe corn that stands in sheaves Beneath the harvest-moon. The warblings of the feathered race, The glowing garden's pride, — Are but fulfilments of the grace Shed fresh at Easter-tide. So grant us, Lord, Thy freshening dew, Our drooping hearts to raise, And still Thine Easter-grace renew Throughout our length of days. So may our Spring's fresh promise speak Our Summer's brightening bloom, Until in Autumn's fall we seek An Easter-conquered tomb ! % 100 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. BURIAL OF THE DEAD. Lyra Apostolica. 7- I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd Death's interposing veil, and thou so pure, Thy place in Paradise Beyond where I could soar ; Friend of this worthless heart ! but happier thoughts Spring like unbidden violets from the sod, Where patiently thou tak'st Thy sweet and sure repose. The shadows fall more soothing : the soft air Is full of cheering whispers like thine own ; While Memory, by thy grave, Lives o'er thy funeral day ; The deep knell dying down, the mourners' pause Waiting their Saviour's welcome at the gate Sure with the words of Heaven Thy spirit met us there, THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 101 And sought with us along th' accustomed way The hallowed porch, and entering in, beheld The pageant of sad joy, So dear to Faith and Hope. O ! hadst thou brought a strain from Paradise To cheer us, happy soul, thou hadst not touched The sacred springs of grief More tenderly and true, Than those deep-warbled anthems, high and low, Low as the grave, high as th' Eternal Throne, Guiding through light and glo,om Our mourning fancies wild, Till gently, like soft golden clouds at eve, Around the western twilight, all subside Into a placid Faith, That even with beaming eye Counts thy sad honours, coffin, bier and pall ; So many relics of a frail love lost, So many tokens dear Of endless love begun. k3 102 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. Listen ! it is no dream : th' Apostles' trump Gives earnest of th' Archangel's ;— calmly now Our hearts yet beating high To that victorious lay, Most like a warrior's to the martial dirge Of a true comrade, in the grave we trust Our treasure for a while : And if a tear steal down, If human anguish o'er the shaded brow Pass shuddering, when the handful of pure earth Touches the coffin lid ; If at our brother's name, Once and again the thought, " for ever gone," Come o'er us like a cloud; yet, gentle spright, Thou turnest not away, Thou knowest us calm at heart. One look, and we have seen our last of thee, Till we too sleep and our long sleep be o'er ; O cleanse us, ere we view, That countenance pure again, THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 103 Thou, who canst change the heart, and raise the dead ; As Thou art by to soothe our parting hour, Be ready when we meet, With Thy dear pardoning words. ON KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE. Wordsworth. Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned, Albeit labouring for a scanty band Of white-robed Scholars only, this immense And glorious Work of fine Intelligence ! Give all thou canst ; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely calculated less or more ; So deemed the Man who fashioned for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells, Where light and shade repose, where music dwells Lingering — and wandering on as loath to die ; Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality. 104 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. MORVVENNJE STATIC), HODIE, MORWENSTOW. Rev. R. S. Hawker. My Saxon shrine ! the only ground, Wherein the weary heart hath rest, What years the birds of God have found Along thy walls their sacred nest ! The storm — the blast — the tempest-shock Have beat upon those walls in vain ; She stands — a daughter of the rock — The changeless God's eternal fane ! Firm was their faith, the ancient bands, The wise of heart in wood and stone, Who rear'd with stern and trusting hands, Those dark grey towers of days unknown ! They filled these aisles with many a thought, They bade each nook some truth recall, The pillar'd arch its legend brought, A doctrine came with roof and wall. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 105 Huge, mighty, massive, hard and strong, Were the choice stones they lifted then ; The vision of their hope was long, They knew their God those faithful men. They pitched no tent for change or death, No home to man's last shadowy day, There ! there ! the everlasting breath Would breathe, whole centuries away ! See now along that pillar'd aisle, The graven arches, firm and fair, — They bend their shoulders to the toil, And lift the hollow roof in air ! A sign ! Beneath the Ship we stand, — The inverted vessel's arching side ; Forsaken — when the fisher-band Went forth to sweep a mightier tide ! Pace we the ground ! our footsteps tread A Cross — the Builder's holiest form — That awful couch where once was shed The blood with man's forgiveness warm ! And here just where His mighty breast Throbb'd the last agony away, They bade the voice of worship rest, And white-rob'd Levites pause and pray. 106 THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. Mark, the rich rose of Sharon's bowers Curves, in the Paten's mystic mould, — The lily, lady of the flowers, Her shape must yonder Chalice hold : — Types of the Mother and the Son, The twain in this dim Chancel stand ; The badge* of Norman banners one And one a crest of English land ! — How all things glow with life and thought, Where'er our faithful fathers trod ! The very ground with speech is fraught, The air is eloquent of God. In vain would doubt or mockery hide The buried echoes of the past ; A voice of strength — a voice of pride — Here dwells amid the storm and blast ! Still points the tower, and pleads the bell, The solemn arches breathe in stone, Window and wall have lips to tell The mighty faith of days unknown ; — * The rose and the fleur-de-lis were used as ecclesiastical em- blems some centuries before they were assumed into the shield of Normandy and England. THE CHURCH AND HER ORDINANCES. 107 Yea ! flood, and breeze, and battle-shock, Shall beat upon this Church in vain, She stands a daughter of the rock — The changeless God's eternal fane ! REPENTANCE. HYMN UPON THE SUNDAYS IN LENT. Drummond. O merciful Creator, hear Our prayers to Thee devoutly bent, Which we pour forth with many a tear In this most holy fast of Lent. Thou mildest searcher of each heart, Who know'st the weakness of our strength, To us forgiving grace impart, Since we return to Thee at length. Much have we sinned, to our shame, But spare us, who our sins confess ; And for the glory of Thy name, To our sick souls afford redress. 109 REPENTANCE. Grant that the flesh may be so pin'd By means of outward abstinence, As that the sober watchful mind May fast from spots of all offence. Grant this, O blessed Trinity ! Pure Unity, to this incline — That the effects of fasts may be A grateful recompense for Thine. HYMN ON ST. JOHN BAPTIST'S DAY. George Wither. Because the world might not pretend It knew not of Thy coming day, Thou didst, oh Christ, before Thee send A crier to prepare Thy way : Thy kingdom was the bliss he brought, Repentance was the way he taught. And that his voice might not alone Inform us what we should believe, His life declared what must be done, If Thee we purpose to receive : His life our pattern therefore make, That we the course he took may take. 110 REPENTANCE. Let us not gad to pleasure's court, With fruitless toys to feed the mind ; Nor to that wilderness resort, Where reeds are shaken with the wind : But tread the path he trod before, That both a prophet was and more. Clad in repentant cloth of hair, Let us, oh Christ, (to seek out Thee) To those forsaken walls repair, Which of so few frequented be ; And true repentance so intend, That we our courses may amend. Let us hereafter feed upon The honey of the word divine ; Let us the world's enticement shun, Her drugs and her delicious wine ; And on our loins (so loose that are) The leathern-belt of temperance wear. Thus from the crier let us learn, For Thee, sweet Jesus, to prepare, And others of their sins to warn, However for the same we fare : So Thou to us, and we to Thee, Shall when Thou comest welcome be. REPENTANCE. HI FROM "ST. PETER'S COMPLAINT." Robert Southwell. Christ, health of fevered soul, heaven of the mind, Force of the feeble, nurse of infant loves, Guide to the wandering foot, light to the blind, Whom weeping wins, repentant sorrow moves, Father in care, mother in tender heart, Receive and save me, slain with sinful dart. If King Manasses, sunk in depth of sin, With plaints and tears recovered grace and crown ; A worthless worm some mild regard may win, And lowly creep, where flying threw him down. A poor desire I have to mend my ill, I should, I would, I dare not say I will. I dare not say I will, but wish I may ; My pride is check'd, high words the speaker spilt. My good, O Lord, Thy gift ; Thy strength my stay, Give what Thou bid'st and then bid what Thou wilt ; Work with me what Thou of me dost request, Then will I dare the most, and vow the best. 112 REPENTANCE. HYMN FOR NEW YEAR'S DAY. Bishop Middleton. As o'er the past my memory strays, Why heaves the secret sigh ? 'Tis that I mourn departed days Still unprepared to die. The world and worldly things beloved, My anxious thoughts employed ; And time unhallowed, unimproved, Presents a fearful void. Yet, holy Father ! wild despair Chase from my labouring breast ; Thy grace it is which prompts the prayer, That grace can do the rest. My life's brief remnant all be Thine ! And when Thy sure decree Bids me this fleeting breath resign, Oh, speed my soul to Thee ! REPENTANCE. 113 VANITY. George Herbert. Poor silly soul, whose hope and head lies low, Whose flat delights on earth do creep and grow ; To whom the stars shine not so fair as eyes, Nor solid work, as false embroideries ; Hark and beware, lest what you now do measure, And write for sweet, prove a most sour displeasure. Oh, hear betimes, lest thy relenting May come too late ! To purchase heaven for repenting Is no hard rate. If souls be made of earthly mould, Let them love gold ; If born on high, Let them unto their kindred fly ; For they can never be at rest, Till they regain their ancient nest. Then, silly soul, take heed ; for earthly joy Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy. 114 REPENTANCE. TRANSLATION OF THE ANCIENT HYMN "DIES IR.E." Rev. I. Williams Day of wrath ! — that awful day Shall the banner'd cross display, Earth in ashes melt away ! The trembling, the agony, When His coming shall be nigh, Who shall all things judge and try ! When the trumpet's thrilling tone Through the tombs of ages gone, Summons all before the throne. Death and Time shall stand aghast, And Creation at the blast, Rise to answer for the past. Then the volume shall be spread, And the writing shall be read Which shall judge the quick and dead ! REPENTANCE. 115 Then the Judge shall sit ! — Oh then, All that's hid shall be made plain, Unrequited nought remain. What shall wretched I then plead ? Who for me shall intercede, When the righteous scarce is freed ? King of dreadful Majesty, Saving souls in mercy free, Fount of Pity, save Thou me ! Bear me, Lord, in heart I pray, Object of Thy saving way, Lest Thou lose me on that day. Weary, seeking me wast Thou, And for me in death didst bow — Be Thy toils availing now 1 Judge of justice, Thee, I pray, Grant me pardon while I may, Ere that awful reckoning day. 116 REPENTANCE. O'er my crimes I guilty groan, Blush to think what I have done, Spare Thy suppliant, Holy One. Thou didst set th' adultress free,- Heard'st the thief upon the tree,- Hope vouchsafing e'en to me. Nought of Thee my prayers can claim, Save in Thy free mercy's name, Save me from the deathless flame ! With Thy sheep my place assign, Separate from th' accursed line, Set me on Thy right with Thine. When the lost, to silence driven, To devouring flames are given, Call me with the blest to Heaven ! Suppliant, fallen, low I bend, My bruised heart to ashes rend, Care Thou, Lord, for my last end ! REPENTANCE. 117 Full of tears the day shall prove, When, from ashes rising, move To the judgment guilty men, — Spare, Thou God of mercy, then ! Lord all-pitying, Jesu blest ! Grant them Thine eternal rest. Amen. RESIGNATION. THE RESIGNATION. John Surris. Long have I vievv'd, long have I thought, And held with trembling hand this bitter draught : 'Twas now just to my lips applied ; Nature shrank in, and all my courage died. But now resolved and firm I'll be, Since, Lord, 'tis mingled, and reached out by Thee. Since 'tis Thy sentence I should part With the most precious treasure of my heart, I freely that and more resign ; My heart itself, as its delight, is Thine ; My little all I give to Thee — Thou gav'st a greater gift, Thy Son, to me. RESIGNATION. 119 He left true bliss and joys above, Himself He emptied of all good, but love ; For me He freely did forsake More good than He from me can ever take. A mortal life for a divine He took, and did at last even that resign. Take all, great God, I will not grieve, But still will wish that I had still to give. I hear Thy voice ; Thou bid'st me quit My paradise, I bless and do submit. I will not murmur at Thy word, Nor beg Thy Angel to sheath up his sword. AFFLICTION. Sir John Davics. And while the face of outward things we find, Pleasing and fair, agreeable and sweet. These things transport, and carry out the mind, That with herself, the mind can never meet. Yet if Affliction once her wars begin, And threat the feebler sense with sword and fire, The mind contracts herself, and shrinketh in, And to herself she gladly doth retire : 120 RESIGNATION. As spiders touched, seek their web's inmost part ; As bees in storms, back to their hives return ; As blood in danger gathers to the heart ; As men seek towns when foes the country burn. If aught can teach us aught, Affliction's looks, (Making us pry into ourselves so near), Teach us to know ourselves beyond all books, Or all the learned schools that ever were. This mistress lately plucked me by the ear, And many a golden lesson hath me taught ; Hath made my senses quick and reason clear ; Reform'd my will, and rectified my thought. So do the winds and thunders cleanse the air : So working seas settle and purge the wine : So lopp'd and pruned trees do flourish fair : So doth the fire the drossy gold refine. Neither Minerva, nor the learned Muse, Nor rules of art, nor precepts of the wise, Could in my brain those beams of skill infuse, As but the glance of this dame's angry eyes. RESIGNATION. 121 She within lists, my raging mind hath brought, That now beyond myself, I will not go ; Myself am centre of my circling thought, Only myself I study, learn and know. I know my body's of so frail a kind, As force without, fevers within can kill : I know the heavenly nature of my mind, But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will. I know my soul hath power to know all things, Yet is she blind and ignorant in all : I know I'm one of Nature's little kings, Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall. I know my life's a pain, and but a span, I know my sense is mock'd in every thing, And to conclude, I know myself a man, Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing. 122 RESIGNATION. SIR WALTER RALEIGH IN THE UNQUIET REST OF HIS LAST SICKNESS. Eternal Mover, whose diffused glory To show our grovelling reason what Thou art, Infolds itself in clouds of restless story Where man (the proudest creature) acts his part; Whom yet, alas ! I know not why, we call The world's contracted sum, the little all. For what are we but lumps of walking clay ? What are our wants ? whence should our spirits rise ? Are not brute beasts as strong ? birds as gay rise ? Trees longer lived, and creeping things as wise ? Only our souls receive more inward light, To feel our weakness and confess Thy might. Let these pure notes ascend unto Thy throne, Where Majesty doth sit with Mercy crown'd ; Where my Redeemer lives, in whom alone The errors of my wandering life are drown'd ; Where all the choir of Heaven resound the same, That none but Thine, Thine is the saving Name. RESIGNATION. 123 Therefore, my soul, joy in the midst of pain, That Christ that conquered Hell, shall from above With greater triumphs yet return again, And conquer His own justice with His love. Commanding Earth and Seas to render those Unto His bliss for whom He paid His woes. Now have I done, now are my woes at peace, And now my joys are stronger than my grief; I feel those comforts that will never cease, Future in hopes, but present in relief; Thy words are true, the promises are just, And Thou wilt know Thy marked flock in dust. O THOU, WHOSE ALL ENLIVENING RAY. Bishop Jebb. O Thou, whose all enlivening ray Can turn my darkness into day, Disperse, great God, my mental gloom, And with Thyself my soul illume. Tho' gathering sorrows swell my breast, Speak but the word, and peace and rest Shall set my troubled spirit free, In sweet communion, Lord, with Thee. 124 RESIGNATION. What tho' in this heart-searching hour, Thou dimnVst my intellectual power ; The gracious discipline I own, And wisdom seek at Thy blest throne ; A wisdom not of earthly mould, Not such as learned volumes hold, Not selfish, arrogant, and vain, That chills the heart and fires the brain : But Father of eternal light, In fixt and changeless glory bright, I seek the wisdom from above, Pure, peaceful, gentle, fervent love. Let love divine my bosom sway, And then my darkness will be day ; No doubts, no fears shall heave my breast, For God Himself will be my rest ! RESIGNATION. 125 TEMPTATION. S. R. Ye powers of darkness, 'tis your hour, Gloomy fancies round me lower ; Dark suspicions cloud my mind, Faith is weak and reason blind : And all comfort seemeth gone Which my heart would lean upon ! Where is now the quiet breast That should hush these storms to rest ? Where the still-composed frame, That said it would be aye the same ? That seemed to stand serene and high, On clear and strict philosophy. 'Tis like the bird that flits away, And tarried but a summer's day ; 'Tis like the ray that gilds the stream, Quench'd if the sun withholds his beam. Human virtue, human strength, True and sterling, yield at length, Weak and transient when alone ; Trust them ; — and thou art undone. Only God's sufficient aid Can make them sound and keep them staid ; m 3 126 RESIGNATION. Only that, when storms assail, Is trustworthy and cannot fail ; Only that, through Jesus' merit, Can stay the heart and soothe the spirit, Filling the soul in its distress With everlasting cheerfulness. My peace temptation shall not blot, Tho' I am weak, One changeth not : Such troubles oft my thoughts may move, But may not touch my steadfast love ; For let it lower, or let it shine, That, Lord, unalterably is Thine ; — So be thy vision dark or clear, Love on, my soul ! thou need'st not fear. THE VOICE WHICH I DID MORE ESTEEM. George Wither. The voice which I did more esteem Than music in her sweetest key ; Those eyes which unto me did seem More comfortable than the day ; Those now by me, as they have been, Shall never more be heard or seen, But what I once enjoyed in them, Shall seem hereafter as a dream. RESIGNATION. 127 All earthly comforts vanish thus ; So little hold of them have we, That we from them, or they from us, May in a moment ravished be. Yet we are neither just nor wise If present mercies w r e despise ; Or mind not how there may be made, A thankful use of what we had. "REJOICE EVERMORE." Rev. R. C. Trench. But how should we be glad ? We that are journeying through a vale of tears, Encompassed with a thousand woes and fears, How should we not be sad ? Angels that ever stand "Within the presence-chamber, and there raise The never-interrupted hymn of praise, May welcome this command. Or they whose strife is o'er, Who all their weary length of life have trod, As pillars now within the temple of God, That shall go out no more. ]28 RESIGNATION. But we who wander here, We that are exiled in this gloomy place, Still doom'd to water earth's unthankful face With manv a bitter tear — Bid us lament and mourn, Bid us that we go mourning all the day, And we will find it easy to obey, Of our best things forlorn ; But not that we be glad ; If it be true the mourners are the blest, Oh, leave us in a world of sin, unrest, And trouble, to be sad. I spake, and thought to weep, For sin and sorrow, suffering and crime, That fill the world, all mine appointed time A settled grief to keep. When, lo ! as day from night, As day from out the womb of night forlorn, So from that sorrow was that gladness born, Even in mine own despite. RESIGNATION. 129 Yet was not that by this Excluded, at the coming of that joy Fled not that grief, nor did that grief destroy The newly risen bliss : But side by side they flow, Two fountains flowing from one smitten heart, And ofttimes scarcely to be known apart — That gladness and that woe ; Two fountains from one source, Or which from two such neighbouring sources run, That aye for him who shall unseal the one, The other flows perforce. And both are sweet and calm, Fair flowers upon the banks of either blow, Both fertilize the soil, and where they flow Shed round them holy balm. THE WINTER THRUSH. Lyra Apostolica. 7- Sweet bird ! up earliest in the morn, Up earliest in the year, Far in the quiet mist are borne, Thy matins soft and clear. 130 KESIGNATION. As linnet soft, and clear as lark, Well hast thou ta"en thy part, Where many an ear thy notes may reach, And here and there a heart. The first snow wreaths are scarcely gone (They staid but half a day) The berries bright hang lingering on ; Yet thou hast learned thy lay. One gleam, one gale of western air Has hardly brush'd thy wing ; Yet thou hast given thy welcome fair, Good-morrow to the spring ! Perhaps within thy carol's sound Some wakeful mourner lies, Dim roaming, days and years around, That ne'er again may rise. He thanks thee with a tearful eye, For thou hast wing'd his spright Back to some hour when hopes were nigh And dearest friends in sight : RESIGNATION. 131 That simple, fearless note of thine Has pierced the cloud of care, And lit awhile the gleam divine That blessed his infant prayer ; Ere he had known, his faith to blight, The scorner's withering smile ; While hearts, he deem'd, beat true and right, Here in our Christian Isle. That sunny, morning glimpse is gone, That morning note is still ; The dun dark day comes lowering on, The spoilers roam at will ; Yet calmly rise, and boldly strive ; The sweet bird's early song, Ere evening fall shall oft revive, And cheer thee ail day long. Are we not sworn to serve our King ? He sworn with us to be ? The birds that chant before the spring, Are truer far than we. 132 RESIGNATION. EARL BRISTOL'S FAREWELL. Grieve not, dear love, although we often part, But know that nature gently doth us sever, Thereby to train us up with tender art, To brook the day when here we part for ever. For nature doubting we should be surprised By that sad day whose dread doth chiefly fear us, Still keeps us daily school'd and exercised, Lest that the fright thereof should overbear us. IN DESOLATION. Sir John Beaumont. Thou who sweetly bend'st my stubborn will, Who send'st Thy stripes to teach, and not to kill ; Thy cheerful face from me no longer hide, Withdraw these clouds, the scourges of my pride : 1 sink to hell, if I be lower thrown ; I see what man is, being left alone. My substance, which from nothing did begin, Is worse than nothing by the weight of sin : RESIGNATION. 133 I see myself in such a wretched state, As neither thoughts conceive, or words relate. How great a distance parts us ! for in Thee Is endless good, and boundless ill in me. All creatures prove me abject, but how low, Thou only know'st, and teachest me to know. To paint this baseness, nature is too base ; This darkness yields not but to beams of grace. Where shall I then this piercing splendour find ? Or, found, how shall it guide me, being blind ? Grace is a taste of bliss, a glorious gift, Which can the soul to heavenly comforts lift : It will not shine to me whose mind is drown'd In sorrows, and with worldly troubles bound. It will not deign within that house to dwell, Where dryness reigns, and proud distractions swell. Perhaps it sought me in those lightsome days Of my first fervour, when few winds did raise The waves, and ere they could full strength obtain, Some whispering gale straight charm'd them down again ; When all seem'd calm, and yet the Virgin's Child On my devotions in his manger smiled ; While then I simply walk'd, nor heed could take Of complacence, that sly deceitful snake ; When yet I had not dangerously refused So many calls to virtue, nor abus'd 134 RESIGNATION. The spring of life, which I so oft enjoy'd, Nor made so many good intentions void, Deserving thus that grace should quite depart, And dreadful hardness should possess my heart : Yet in that state this only good I found, That fever spots did then my conscience wound ; Though who can censure, whether in those times, The want of feeling, seemed the want of crimes ? If solid virtue dwell not but in pain, I will not wish that golden age again, Because it flow'd with sensible delights Of heavenly things : God hath created nights As well as days, to deck the varied globe ; Grace comes as oft clad in the dusky robe Of desolations, as in white attire, Which better fits the bright celestial quire. Some in foul seasons perish through despair ; But more through boldness when the days are fair. This, then, must be the med'cine for my woes, To yield to what my Saviour shall dispose ; To glory in my baseness ; to rejoice In mine afflictions ; to obey his voice, As well when threatenings my defects reprove, As when I cherish'd am, with words of love ; To say to Him in every time and place — Withdraw Thy comforts, so Thou leave Thy Grace. RESIGNATION. 135 FOR PARENTS WHO HAVE LOST THEIR CHILDREN, George Wither. Quite lost are now mine airy joys, Once promis'd by a fruitful womb : For my dear issue Death destroys ; And full of grief I am become. Those eyes, whereon I lov'd to look, The voices, which made glad mine ear, Are out of sight and hearing took, And shall no more delight me here. I am a plant whose leaves are cropp'd, Whose pleasant fruit is pluck'd away ; Whose hopeful branches down are lopp'd, And left without a living spray. To call me Father, none is left ; My songs to mournful tunes are made, And all the pleasures are bereft, Which in a child I might have had. 13(j RESIGNATION'. Yet all rejoicing is not gone, For, in my sorrows, comforts be ; Because the soul which I bemoan, Is found of God, though lost to me. CONSOLATION. Wordsworth. My Friend ! enough to sorrow you have given, The purposes of wisdom ask no more ; Be wise and cheerful ; and no longer read The forms of things with an unworthy eye. She sleeps in the calm grave and peace is here. I well remember that those very plumes, Those weeds, and the high spear-grass on that wall, By mist and silent rain -drops silver'd o'er, As once I pass'd did to my heart convey So still an image of tranquillity, So calm and still, and look'd so beautiful Amid the uneasy thoughts which fill'd my mind, That what we feel of sorrow and despair From ruin and from change, and all the grief RESIGNATION. 137 The passing shows of Being leave behind, Appear'd an idle dream, that could not live Where meditation was. I turn'd away, And walk'd along my road in happiness. SUBMISSION. George Herbert. But that Thou art my wisdom, Lord, And both mine eyes are Thine, My mind would be extremely stirr'd For missing my design. Were it not better, to bestow Some place and power on me ? Then should Thy praises with me grow, And share in my degree. But, when I thus dispute and grieve, I do resume my sight ; And, pilfering what I once did give, Disseise Thee of Thy right. n3 138 RESIGNATION. How know I, if Thou shouldst me raise, That I should then raise Thee ? — Perhaps great places and Thy praise Do not so well agree. Wherefore unto my gift I stand ; I will no more advise. Only do Thou lend me a hand, Since Thou hast both mine eyes. HOLY LIVING. LINES WRITTEN BY DR. PETER HEYLYN, WITH A BIBLE RICHLY GILDED, WHICH HE PRESENTED TO A LADY. Could this outside beholden be To cost and cunning equally, Or were it such as might suffice The luxury of curious eyes ; Yet would I have my dearest, look Not on the cover, but the book. If thou art merry, here are airs, If melancholy, here are prayers ; If studious, here are those things writ Which may deserve thy ablest wit ; If hungry, here is food divine, If thirsty, nectar, heavenly wine. 140 HOLY LIVING. Read then, but first thyself prepare To read with zeal, and mark with care ; And when thou read'st what here is writ, Let thy best practice second it. So twice each precept read shall be, First in the book and next in thee. Much reading may thy spirits wrong, Refresh them therefore with a song ; And that thy music praise may merit, Sing David's Psalms, with David's spirit ; That as thy voice doth pierce men's ears, So shall thy prayer and vows the spheres. Thus read, thus sing, and then to thee, The very earth a heaven shall be ; If thus thou readest thou shalt find A private heaven within thy mind ; And singing thus before thou die, Thou sing'st thy part to those on high. HOLY LIVING. 141 THE CHOICE. H/ckes' Devotions. Lord, who shall dwell above with Thee, There on Thy holy hill ? Who shall those glorious prospects see, That Heaven with gladness fill? Those happy souls, who prize that life Above the bravest here ; Whose greatest hopes, whose cag'rest strife Is once to settle there. They use this world, but value that, That they supremely love ; They travel through this present state, But place their home above. Lord ! who are they that thus choose Thee, But those Thou first didst choose ? To whom Thou gav'st Thy grace most free, Thy grace not to refuse. 142 HOLY LIVING. We of ourselves can nothing do, But all on Thee depend ; Thine is the work and wages too, Thine both the way and end. O make us still our work attend, And we'll not doubt our pay ; We will not fear a blessed end, If Thou but guide the way. CONSCIENCE. Bishop Ken. Thy glorious throne, is, Lord, on high, Beyond the reach of mortal eye ; But Thy vicegerent, we all know, Is here below. To Conscience Thou in every mind Thy deputation hast assign'd ; And Conscience who are all sincere Next Thee revere. Lord, on the ark form'd to enshrine, Two tables of Thy law divine, Thou 'twixt the cherubs didst display Thy gracious ray. HOLY LIVING. 143 Thou human soul for ark hast chose In which Thy sacred laws repose, There Conscience spreads with splendour bright Vicarious light. I grieve, my God, when I reflect, On treating Conscience with neglect ; Neglect to Thy sub-regent's throne Affronts Thy own. Great God, Thou art my Judge, my Guide, My witness when I fall or slide, My register, each beam, each mote, Each hour to note. My just remembrancer to keep The memory of sins which sleep, My monitor to point at snare And rouse my care. My Conscience is all this to me, Lord, following that I follow Thee ; It guides my way, it wakes my fear, When danger's near. 144 HOLY LIVING. In Conscience I recorded read, Each sinful thought and word and deed, When search'd minutely it recalls Forgotten falls. It is my Judge, and when I die Dooms me to sink or mount on high ; God will the sentence fix at last Which Conscience passM. THE RETREAT, Henry Vaughan. Happy those early days, when I Shin'd in my angel-infancy ! Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race ; Or taught my soul to fancy ought But a white celestial thought ; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love : And looking back, at that short space, Could see a glimpse of his bright face ; When on some gilded cloud or flower My gazing soul would dwell an hour, HOLY LIVING. 145 And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity ; Before I taught my tongue to wound My conscience with a sinful sound ; Or had the black art to dispense A several sin to every sense ; But felt through all this fleshly dress Bright shoots of everlastingness. O how I long to travel back And tread again that ancient track ! That I might once more reach that plain, Where first I left my glorious train ; From whence th' enlightened spirit sees That shady city of Palm-trees ; But, ah ! my soul with too much stay Is drunk, and staggers in the way. Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move ; And when this dust falls to the urn, In that state I came, return. 146 HOLY LIVING. Anonymous. EMPLOYMENT. Man is a busy thing, and he Will deal in all sorts of affairs. Weighty and trivial ; each may be, The subject of his greatest cares ; But this shall my employment be, Still to be busied, Lord, with Thee. Some are all spirit, and will fly At nothing lower than a throne ; The proudest spires of dignity They, in their hopes, have made their own : But this shall my employment be, To seek my honour all from Thee. Some that are sprung from coarser clay Adore a paint-disguised face, And daily their devotion pay To spotted beasts, or else as base : But this shall my employment be, Daily to serve and wait on Thee. HOLY LIVING. 147 Some so enhance the price of gold, They judge their souls to be but dross ; And are so saving that they hold The air, the breath, a mighty loss : But this shall my employment be, I will love nothing like to Thee. Some are so loyal to the book Till they can criticise, and tell How many steps old Time has took Since our great father Adam fell : But this shall my employment be, Better to know myself and Thee. "AN HONEST AND GOOD HEART." In health and joy God's word we hear, And though not all in vain, It touches but the outward ear, A sweet familiar strain. Let sickness chafe, or sorrow frown, Or care the spirit fray, Or let our souFs bright sun go down, And turn to night our day. H. 148 HOLY LIVING. Let God to show our need and sin But raise this fair earth's pall, One little drop of wrath, within Our cup of life let fall. How deep, each well conn'd line, fresh found, Will pierce the inmost heart ; We hang upon the precious sound Our life-breath to impart. Words full long known, unheeded long, Now flash in dazzling light ; They speak with more than angel's tongue To comfort or affright. Yet Christ a master key has given, High boon His saints may share, To ope the golden doors of heaven And lay its treasures bare. There might we range in pastures bright, And in and out might go ; There ever find undying light To dim this world's false glow. HOLY LIVING. 149 Alas ! few hands that key can turn Till taught by touch of pain ; Earth's slaves toil out that secret stern, The guileless find so plain. Oh, for that heart, instinctive — good — In pure obedience glad ; Happy as spirit unsubdued, Thoughtful as spirit sad ! o3 150 HOLY LIVING. THE KNIGHT AT THE HOUSE OF HOLINESS. Spenser. Strange thing it is an errant knight to see Here in this place, or any other wight That hither turns his steps ; so few there be That choose the narrow path, or seek the right ? All keep the broad high way, and take delight With many rather for to go astray, And be partakers of their evil plight, Than with a few to walk the rightest way. O foolish Men ! why haste ye to your own decay ? STEADFASTNESS. S. R. Many are the ways I see, But one only good for me, That which Thou, great God, hast shown In the Gospel of Thy Son. Pleasure palls, and business tires, Honour oft in shame expires ; Knowledge is a doubtful ray, Friends, alas ! are things of clay. HOLY LIVING. ' 151 But the sense of Thee, oh God, Better things to man hath show'd, And makes life the further on More and more a blessed one. Listen, listen to the call ; Seek God's kingdom first of all ; Do to Him whate'er you do ; — All shall then be well with you. Earth may reel and men may fear, Still to thee thy God is near ; Keep the choice thy soul hath made, " Fear not then, nor be afraid !" TRUE RELIGION. Fulke Grevile, Lord Brooke. Then man, pray and obtain ; believe and have : Omnipotence and goodness ready be To raise us, with our Saviour, from the grave, Whence Enoch and Elias lived free ; He made all good, yet suffered sin and death To reign, and be exiled again by faith. 152 • HOLY LIVING. Then, till thou find this heavenly change in thee ; Of pride to meekness ; atheism to zeal ; Lust to continence ; anger to charity ; Thou feePst of thy election no true seal ; But knowledge only, that poor infancy Of this new creature, which must thence appeal Unto the Father for obedience ; Judging his hopes or condemnation thence. For what else is religion in mankind, But raising of God's image there decay 'd ? No habit, but a hallow'd state of mind Working in us that He may be obey'd : As God, by it, with us communicates, So we, by duties, must with all estates ; With our Creator, by sincere devotion ; With creatures, by observance and affection ; Superiors, by respect of their promotion ; Inferiors, with the nature of protection ; W r ith all, by using all things of our own For others' good, not to ourselves alone. And ev'n this sacred band, this heavenly breath, In man his understanding, knowledge is ; Obedience, in his will ; in conscience, faith ; Affections, love ; in death itself, a bliss ; In body, temperance; life, humility; Pledge to the mortal of eternity. HOLY LIVING. 153 SENSUAL AND SPIRITUAL LIFE. Henry More. Fear, anger, hope, fierce vengeance, rabid hate, Tumultuous joy, envy and discontent, Self-love, vain glory, strife and fell debate, Unsatiate covetize, desire impotent, Low-sinking grief, pleasure, lust violent, Fond emulation, — all these dim the mind, That, with foul filth the inward eye yblent, The light that is so near it cannot find ; So shines the Sun unseen on a tree's rugged rind. But the clear soul, by virtue purified, Collecting her own strength, from the foul steam Of earthly life, is often dignified With that pure pleasure that from God doth stream ; Often's enlightened by the radiant beam, That issues forth from his Divinity ; Then feelingly immortal she doth deem Herself, conjoin'd by so near unity With God, and nothing doubts of her eternity. Nor death, nor sleep, nor any dismal shade Of low contracting life, she then doth fear ; 154 HOLY LIVING. No troubled thoughts her settled mind invade, The immortal root of life she seeth clear, Wisheth she ever were engrafted here ; No cloud, no darkness, no deficiency In this high heavenly life doth e'er appear ; Redundant fulness, and free liberty, Sweet-flowing knowledge, never-wearying energy : — Broad, open sight, eternal wakefulness, Withouten labour, or consuming pain : — The Soul all these, in God, must needs possess When there deep-rooted life she doth obtain. THE ONLY SOURCE OF GOOD. Spen s er. What man is he that boasts of fleshly might, And vain assurance of mortality, Which all so soon as it doth come to fight Against spiritual foes, yields by and by, Or from the field most cowardly doth fly ? Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill, That thorough grace hath gained victory : If any strength we have, it is to ill, But all the good is God's, the power and eke the will. HOLY LIVING. 155 THE MISTAKE CORRECTED. Hickes' Devotions. Why do we seek felicity, Where 'tis not to be found ; And not, dear Lord, look up to Thee, Where all delights abound ? Why do we seek for treasure here, On this false barren sand ; Where nought but empty shells appear, And marks of shipwreck stand ? O world, how little do thy joys, Concern a soul that knows Itself not made for such low toys, As thy poor hand bestows ! How cross art thou to that design For which we had our birth ! Us, who are made in Heaven to shine, Thou bowest down to earth : l5 Q HOLY LIVING. Nay to thy Hell ; for thither sink All that to thee submit : Thou strew'st some flowers on the brink, . To drown us in the pit. World, take away thy tinsel wares, That dazzle here our eyes ; Let us go up above the stars, Where all our treasure lies. The Way we know ; our dearest Lord Himself is gone before, And has engaged His faithful Word, To open us the door. But, O my God, reach down Thine hand, And take us up to Thee ; That we about Thy throne may stand, And all Thy glories see. All glory to the sacred Three, One ever-living Lord : As at the first, still may He be Belov'd, obey'd, ador'd. HOLY LIVING. 157 ST. MATTHEW'S DAY. From the Child's Christian Year. O Lord, Thy presence is reveal'd By mountain and by flood, By woodland and by quiet field, And homes where dwell the good. But at the sinner's thoughtless board Who hopes for trace of Thine ? Yet there in mercy, gracious Lord, Thou settest still Thy sign. Thy holy presence shines there yet ; Since by Thy blessed Son. While sinners round at meat were set His Father's work was done. 'Tis bliss for those whose path must be Through busy scenes, to feel How with the evil mingled He In meekness, love, and zeal. p 158 HOLY LIVING. Blest thought, for every faithful heart That pure would still remain, Yet do its firm but gentle part Amid the bad and vain. Good Lord ! thro' this world's troubled way Thy children's path secure ; And lead them onward, day by day, Kindly, like Thee, and pure. Be theirs to do Thy work of love, All erring souls to win ; Amid a sinful world to move, Yet give no smile to sin. HOLY LIVING. 159 HAPPINESS. 'WHOSO LOOKETH INTO THE PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY AND CONTINUETH THEREIN, HE BEING NOT A FORGETFUL HEARER BUT A DOER OF THE WORK, THIS MAN SHALL BE BLESSED IN HIS DEED." S. R. Stoop down until you thoroughly see Into Christ's Law, that rules the free ; Take care you see and catch the whole, Then cling to it with heart and soul, — No hearer only, that forgets, But one who straight to working sets ; Be such, and be (such work pursuing) Blest in the deed and in the doing. CONTENT. John Cleveland. Soar then (my soul) above the arched round Of these poor spangled blisses : here's no ground To fix the sacred foot of pure content, Her mansion's in a purer element. Hast thou perceivM the sweetness of a groan ? Or tried the wings of contemplation ? 160 HOLY LIVING. Or hast thou found the balm of tears that press Like amber in the dregs of bitterness ? Or hast thou felt that secret joy that flows Against the tide of common overthrows ? Or hast thou known the dawnings of a Gov Upon thee when His love is shed abroad ? Or hast thou heard the sacred harmony Of a calm conscience echoing in thee A requiem from above ? a sealed peace Beyond the power of hell, sin, or disease ? Or hast thou tasted that communion Between a reconciled God and man ? That holy intercourse ? those precious smiles Dissolv'd in holy whisperings between whiles ? Here, here's the steps lead to the bless'd abode ; Her chair of state is on the throne of God. THE ELIXIR. George Herbert. Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see ; And, what I do in any thing, To do it as for Thee : HOLY LIVING. 161 Not rudely as a beast, To run into an action ; But still to make Thee prepossess'd, And give it his perfection. A man that looks on glass, On it may stay his eye ; Or if he pleaseth through it pass, And then the heaven espy. All may of Thee partake ; Nothing can be so mean, Which with his tincture, for thy sake, Will not grow bright and clean. A servant, with this clause, Makes drudgery divine : Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that, and th' action, fine. This is the famous stone, That turneth all to gold ; For that which God doth touch and own, Cannot for less be told. p3 162 HOLY LIVING. CHEERFULNESS. ' HER WAYS ARE WAYS OF PLEASANTNESS, AND ALL HER PATHS ARE PEACE." What makes the calm and healthful mind Cheerful alike through every kind Of trial or distress ; That still on every scene doth throw A light more soft than vernal glow, By its own evenness ? Is it the flower of early youth, The flow of innocence and truth, That shows so sweetly fair ? Ah, no ! the lightest heart I've seen In the breast of an aged sire hath been, When life was quenching there ! Is it the spring that health doth give To cheeks where blooming roses live With mirth and spirit high ? Then why should yonder suffering maid Long time on her restless pallet laid, Bear up so cheerfully ? s. R. HOLY LIVING. 163 It is not youth, it is not health, Nor flow of life, nor ease of wealth, Can yield such steadfast joy : A mind self ruled by Christian laws, Alone hath that, from whence it draws, What nothing can alloy. Retire within thyself, be bold, With God exalted converse hold In penitence and prayer : Lea.rn as thou view'st the soft blue sky, To rise in holy ecstacy, And claim a Father there. Affect not thou the claim of worth, It fits but ill, frail son of earth, To measure works with Heaven ; Confess thy sins, be inly just, Be pure of heart, and simply trust Through Christ thou'lt be forgiven. As life's brief pastimes come and go, Be temperate still, and taste them so, As wearied nature's feast ; Whatever of pleasures vain men boast, Be sure they still enjoy them most Who cling to them the least. 164 HOLY LIVING. Contemplate oft this passing scene, How soon 'twill be, as it had not been, And thence high comfort borrow : So shall thy mind by wisdom taught, Feel strongly, here our time is short, Yet feeling know no sorrow. The sun doth set, the stars do fade, Beauty's a blossom, life a shade, Earth's joys wax less and less ; This fair world's place shall be forgot, The heavens shall pass : yet changeth not The good man's cheerfulness. HOLY LIVING. 165 CONTENT AND REST. Robert Southwell. I dwell in Grace's court Enrich'd with Virtue's rights ; Faith guides my wit. Love leads my will, Hope all my mind delights. In lowly vales I mount To pleasure's highest pitch, My silly garb true honour brings, My poor estate is rich. My conscience is my crown, Contented thoughts my rest, My heart is happy in itself, My bliss is in my breast. Enough, I reckon wealth That mean, the surest lot That lies too high for poor contempt, Too low for envy's shot. 166 HOLY LIVING. My wishes are but few, All easy to fulfil ; I make the limits of my power The bounds unto my will. I have no hopes but one, Which is of heavenly reign, Effects attained or not descried, All lesser hopes refrain. I feel no care for gold, Well doing is my wealth ; My mind to me an empire is, While grace affordeth health. I clip high-climbing thoughts, The wings of swelling pride ; Their fall is worst that from the height Of greatest honours slide. Since sails of largest size* The storm doth soonest tear, I bear so low and small a sail As freeth me from fear. HOLY LIVING. 167 I wrestle not with rage While fury's flame doth burn ; It is in vain to stop the stream Until the tide doth turn. But when the flame is out, And ebbing wrath doth end, I turn a late enraged foe Into a quiet friend. And taught with often proof, A temper calm I find To be most solace for myself, Best cure for angry mind. Spare diet is my fare, My clothes more fit than fine, I know I feed and clothe a foe, That pampered would repine. I envy not their hap Whom fortune doth advance ; I take no pleasure in their pain That have less happy chance. 168 HOLY LIVING. To rise by others' fall I deem a losing game ; All states with others' ruin built To ruin run amain. No change of Fortune's calm Can cast my comforts down ; When Fortune smiles, I smile to think How quickly she will frown. And when in froward mood She proved an angry foe, Small gain I found to let her come, Small loss to let her go. ON THE INCOMPARABLE TREASURE OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURE. Thomas Jordan. Here is the spring where waters flow, To quench our heat of sin ; Here is the tree where truth doth grow, To lead our lives therein. HOLY LIVING. 169 Here is the Judge that stints the strife, Where men's devices fail ; Here is the Bread that feeds the life, That death cannot assail. The tidings of salvation dear Come to our ears from hence ; The fortress of our faith is here, And shield of our defence. Then be not like the swine, that hath A pearl at his desire, And takes more pleasure at the trough, And wallowing in the mire. Read not this book in any case But with a single eye ; Read not, but first desire God's grace To understand thereby. Pray still in faith, with this respect, To fructify therein ; That knowledge may have this effect, To mortify thy sin. Q 170 HOLY LIVING. Then happy thou in all thy life, What so to thee befalls ; Yea, double happy shalt thou be, When God bv death thee calls. FROM " THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL." Sir John Davies. O ignorant poor man ! what dost thou bear Lock'd up within the casket of thy breast ? What jewels and what riches hast thou there ? W 7 hat heavenly treasure in so weak a chest ? Look in thy soul, and thou shalt beauties find, Like those which drown'd Narcissus in the flood : Honour and pleasure both are in thy mind, And all that in the world is counted good. Think of her worth, and think that God did mean, This worthy mind should worthy things embrace : Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts unclean, Nor her dishonour with thy passion base. HOLY LIVING. 171 Kill not her quickening power with surfeitings : Mar not her sense with sensuality : Cast not her wit away, on idle things : Make not her free will, slave to vanity. And when thou think'st of her eternity, Think not that death against her nature is ; Think it a birth : and when thou go'st to die, Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to bliss. And thou, my soul, which turn'st with curious eye, To view the beams of thine own form divine, Know that thou can'st know nothing perfectly, While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine. Take heed of over-weening, and compare Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's train : Study the best and highest things that are, But of thyself an humble thought retain. Cast down thyself, and only strive to raise The glory of thy Maker's sacred name : Use all thy powers, that blessed Power to praise, Which gives thee power to be, and use the same. 172 HOLY LIVING. THE WORTH OF HOURS. /?. M, Milnes, Esq. Believe not that your inner eye Can ever in just measure try The worth of hours as they go by ; For every man's weak self, alas ! Makes him to see them as they pass As through a dim or tinted glass : But if in earnest care, you would Mete out to each its part of good, Trust rather to your after-mood. Those surely are not fairly spent, That leave your spirit bowed and bent In sad unrest and ill-content : And more, though free from seeming harm, You rest from toil of mind or arm, Or slow retire from Pleasure's charm, — HOLY LIVING. 173 If then a painful sense comes on Of something wholly lost and gone, Vainly enjoyed, or vainly done, — Of something from your being's chain Broke off, nor to be linked again By all mere Memory can retain, — Upon your heart this truth may rise, — Nothing that altogether dies Suffices man's just destinies : So should we live, that every Hour May die as dies the natural flower, — A self-reviving thing of power ; That every Thought and every Deed May hold within itself the seed Of future good and future meed ; Esteeming Sorrow, whose employ Is to develope, not destroy, Far better than a barren Joy. q3 PR A YE E AND PRAISE. Wordsicorth. " How beautiful this dome of sky, And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed At thy command, how awful ! Shall the soul Human and rational report of Thee Even less than these ? Be mute who will, who can, Yet I will praise Thee with impassioned voice : My lips, that may forget Thee in the crowd, Cannot forget Thee here ; where Thou hast built, For Thy own glory in the wilderness ! Me didst Thou constitute a Priest of Thine, In such a Temple as we now behold Reared for Thy presence : therefore, am I bound PRAYER AND PRAISE. 175 To worship, here, and everywhere — as one Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the way of poverty ; From unreflecting ignorance preserved, And from debatement rescued — By Thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched ; And 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From Paradise transplanted ; wintry age Impends ; the frost will gather round my heart ; And, if they wither I am worse than dead ! — Come, Labour, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual Sabbath ; come, Disease and Want ; And sad exclusion through decay of sense ; But leave me unabated trust in Thee — And let Thy favour, to the end of life, Inspire me with ability to seek Repose and hope among eternal things — Father of heaven and earth ! and T am rich, And will possess my portion in content." " And what are things eternal ? Powers depart," The grey-haired Wanderer steadfastly replied, Answering the question which himself had asked, " Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And passions hold a fluctuating scat : 17(3 Pit AVER AND PRAISE. But by the storm of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists ; — immutably survive, For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract Intelligence supplies ; Whose kingdom is where Time and Space are not. Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart, Do with united urgency, require, What more that may not perish ? Thou dread Source, Prime ; self-existing Cause and End of all, That, in the scale of Being fill their place, Above our human region, or below, Set and sustained ; — Thou — who didst wrap the cloud Of Infancy around us, that Thyself, Therein, with our simplicity awhile Mightest hold, on earth, communion undisturbed — Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its deathlike void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restorest us, daily, to the powers of sense, And reason's steadfast rule — Thou, Thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the Sea her waves : For adoration Thou endur'st ; endure For consciousness the motions of Thy will ; For apprehension those transcendant truths Of the pure Intellect, that stand as laws, PKAYEft AND 1'ltAlSE. 177 (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty ! This Universe shall pass away— a work Glorious ! because the shadow of thy might, A step or link, for intercourse with Thee. Ah ! if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where Meditation leads, By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these the unimprisoned Mind May yet have scope to range among her own, Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, Still it may be allowed me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul In youth were mine ; when, stationed on the top Of some huge hill — expectant, I beheld The Sun rise up, from distant climes returned, Darkness to chase, and sleep ; and bring the day His bounteous gift ! or saw him toward the Deep Sink — with a retinue of flaming Clouds Attended ; then my spirit was entranced With joy exalted to beatitude ; The measure of my soul was filled with bliss, And holiest love ; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence ! |78 PIIAYER AND PRAISE. ON A PRAYER-BOOK SENT TO MISTRESS M. R. Crashaiv. Lo ! here a little volume, but great book, (Fear it not sweet, It is no hypocrite) Much larger in itself, than in its look. It is in one rich handful, Heaven, and all Heaven's royal host, encamped thus small ; To prove that true, schools used to tell, A thousand angels in one point could dwell. It is love's great artillery, Which here contracts itself, and comes to lie Close couch'd in your white bosom, and from thence As from a snowy fortress of defence Against the ghostly foe to take your part : And fortify the hold of your chaste heart. It is the armoury of light ; Let constant use but keep it bright, You'll find it yields PKAYER AND PRAISE. 179 To holy hands and humble hearts, More swords and shields Than sin hath snares, or hell hath darts. Only be sure, The hands be pure, That hold these weapons, and the eyes Those of turtles, chaste and true, Wakeful and wise. Here is a friend will fight for you. Hold but this book before your heart, Let prayer alone, to play his part. But, () ! the heart That studies this high art, Must be a sure house-keeper And yet no sleeper. Dear soul, be strong, Mercy will come ere long, And bring her bosom full of blessings, Flowers of never-fading graces ; To make immortal dressings For worthy souls, whose wise embraces Store up themselves for Him, who is alone The Spouse of virgins and the Virgin's Son. 180 PRAYER AND PRAISE. But if the noble Bridegroom when He comes Shall find the wandering heart from home, Leaving her chaste abode, To gad abroad : Amongst the gay mates of the god of flies To take her pleasures, and to play And keep the Devil's holiday ; To dance in the sunshine, of some smiling But beguiling Spear of sweet and sugared lies ; Some slippery pair Of false perhaps as fair, Flattering, but forswearing eyes. Doubtless some other heart Will get the start, And stepping in before, Will take possession of the sacred store Of hidden sweets, and holy joys, Words which are not heard with ears, (These tumultuous shops of noise) Effectual whispers, whose still voice The soul itself more feels than hears. PRAYER AND PRAISE. 181 HYMN FOR SUNDAY MORNING. Hickes' Devotions. Behold, we come, dear Lord, to Thee, And bow before Thy throne : We come to offer on our knee, Our vow to Thee alone. Whate'er we have, whatever we are, Thy bounty freely gave, Thou dost us here in mercy spare, And wilt hereafter save. But, O ! can all our store aTord, No better gift for Thee ! Thus we confess Thy riches, Lord, And thus our poverty. 'Tis not our tongue, or knee can pay The mighty debt we owe ; Far more we should, than we can say, Far lower should we bow. 182 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Come, then, my soul, bring all thy powers, And grieve thou hast no more ; Bring every day thy choicest hours, And thy great God adore. But above all prepare thy heart, On this His own blest day ; In its sweet task to bear thy part, And sing, and love, and pray. HYMN FOR THE MORNING. Thomas Flatman. Awake, my soul ! awake, mine eyes ! Awake, my drowsy faculties ! Awake, and see the new-born light Spring from the darksome womb of night ! Look up and see th' unwearied sun, Already has his race begun : The pretty lark is mounting high, And sings her matins in the sky. Arise, my soul ! and thou, my voice, In songs of praise early rejoice ! PRAYER AND PRAISE. 183 O, great Creator, Heavenly King ! Thy praises let me ever sing ! Thy power has made, thy goodness kept This fenceless body while I slept ; Yet one day more hast given me From all the powers of darkness free ; O, keep my heart from sin secure, My life unblameable and pure, That when the last of all my days shall come, Cheerful and fearless I may wait my doom. HYMN FOR THE EVENING. Thomas Flatman. Sleep ! downy Sleep ! come, close mine eyes, Tir'd. with beholding vanities ! Sweet slumbers, come, and chase away The toils and follies of the day ; On your soft bosom will I lie, Forget the world, and learn to die. O, Israel's watchful Shepherd ! spread Tents of angels round my bed ; Let not the spirits of the air, While I slumber me ensnare ; But save Thy suppliant free from harms, Clasp'd in Thine everlasting arms. 184 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Clouds and thick darkness are Thy throne, Thy wonderful pavilion : Oh, dart from thence a shining ray, And then my midnight shall be day ! Thus, when the morn in crimson dress'd Breaks through the windows of the east, My hymns of thankful praise shall rise, Like incense, or the morning sacrifice ! AD PRIMUM. c The Star of Light has risen now ! And suppliant before God we bow That He would guide our steps aright, Himself the uncreated Light ! Far from our hearts, our hand, our tongue, Be banish'd thought or word of wrong ; Let simple truth our lips restrain, And love within our bosoms reign. As onward from its fountain well The day-stream flows, our Sentinel 1 Each sense's portal be Thy care, From foes that keep their station there ! PRAYER AND PRAISE. 185 O, Lord ! whate'er this day we do, Let it to Thy renown accrue ! Our labours bless with Thy regard, Their Author and their high Reward ! Lest erring nature should control Our mind, and riot in the soul, Let self-denial from its height Cast down usurping appetite ! To Him enthron'd supremest Lord, And to His well-beloved Word, With the blest Spirit, glory be, Now, and throughout Eternity. AD LAUDES. Again the morning's brightness calls To worship in the hallowed halls ; And warns us for the joyous gift On high our grateful voices lift. r3 186 PRAYER AND PRAISE. But bright as the morn's lustre glows, Brighter the victor Saviour rose ; And since in Him we conquer too, Joyous we pay the homage due, That, coming from its swathing band, He called at once the sea and land Resplendent all with purest light —This was the triumph of His might I But more that willingly He gave His life our sinful race to save (That life resumed in realms above) — This was the triumph of His love ! When the Eternal eye surveyed The world, which His own Word had made, (All in the hues of Heaven imbued) He blessed it and pronounced it good. But the bright shows of Earth and Sky Were fairer in the Maker's eye, When in the Lamb's resplendent blood All purified and white they stood. PRAYER AND PRAISE. 187 The morning's brightness shows unfurPd The glories of the new-born world, And he that watches by them sees Glimpses of Heaven's high palaces. In Christ our bosom's living fire, The splendour of th' Eternal Sire, Within the veil of flesh we see Such as He is the Deity 1 Grant ever blest and triune Lord, Led by the light Thy laws afford, That what Thou hatest we may shun, And do whate'er Thou wouldst have done. 188 PRAYER AND PRAISE. DOMINICA AD NOCTEM. On this day of highest worth, Light from darkness bursting forth, Christ from His sepulchral prison, The true Light of the world has risen. And Death and horrid Chaos heard The voice of the commanding Word. — Then, O shame ! more dull than they, Shall we linger to obey ? No, while yet in deathlike guise Entranced Nature buried lies, Rouse we up the sons of light, And exercise with songs the night. The Law, the Prophets, and the lyre Of David, warm with living fire, (Silent th' unhallow'd world around) Shall through these sacred vaults resound. PRAYER AND PRAISE. 189 Yes, let the trumpet voice of song Dispel the slumber cherish'd long; And let new energies display Life new returning with the day ! For these are ours, Font of Love ! If Thou but guide us from above ; Thy Spirit by His mystic art, Convey the letter to the heart. Father and Son ! to You we raise, And to the blessed Spirit, praise, Who kindles by His breath divine The rays that warm as well as shine. MORNING HYMN. Child's Christian Year. Again, O Lord, I ope my eyes, Thy glorious light to see, And share the gifts so largely lent To thankless man, by Thee. 190 PRAYER AND PRAISE. And why has God o'er me this night The watch so kindly kept ? And why have I so safely waked, And why so sweetly slept ? And wherefore do I live and breathe ? And wherefore have I still The mind to know, the sense to choose, The strength to do Thy will ? Is it to waste another day In folly, sin, and shame ? To give to these my heart and hand, And spurn my Maker's claim ? Is it for honour, wealth, or power, My heaven-born soul to sell ? Is it to grasp at pleasure's flowers Upon the brink of hell ? Is it to grow unto the world As glides the world from me : Be one day nearer to the grave, And farther, Lord, from Thee ? PRAYER AND PRAISE. 191 No ! thus too many days I've spent, To Thee, then, this be given ; Teach what I owe to man below, And to Thyself in Heaven. O, bring me to my Saviour's Cross, For mercy for the past : And make me live the coming day As if it were my last ! EVENING HYMN. George Wither. Lord, shall we oft forget to sing A thankful evening-song of praise, This duty, they to mind might bring, Who chirp among the bushy sprays. For to their perches they retire, When first the twilight waxeth dim ; And, every night, that sweet-voiced quire Shuts up the daylight with a hymn. 192 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Ten thousand fold more cause have we, To close each day with praiseful voice ; To offer thankful hearts to Thee, And in Thy mercies to rejoice. For, from Thy wardrobe cloth'd we are ; Our health we do by Thee retain ; Our daily bread Thou dost prepare ; And givest ease when we have pain. Therefore for all Thy mercies past ; For those this evening doth afford ; And which for times to come Thou hast ; We give Thee hearty thanks, O Lord ! Continued lot Thy bounties be, And from our Ghostly Foe's despite, (Though we deserve it not from Thee) Defend us this ensuing night. When we shut up in darkness lie, Let not the guilt of any sin, Appear our souls to terrify With frights which bring despairings in. PRAYER AND PRAISE. 193 But free from harms and slavish fear, Let us a peaceful rest obtain ; That when the morning shall appear, We may renew Thy praise again. MIDNIGHT HYMN. Bishop Ken. My God, now I from sleep awake, The sole possession of me take ; From midnight terrors me secure, And guard my heart from thoughts impure. Blest angels, while we silent lie, You hallelujahs sing on high ; You joyful hymn the Ever-blest Before the throne, and never rest. I with your choir celestial join, Tn offering up a hymn divine : With you in heaven I hope to dwell, And bid the night and world farewell. 194 PRAYER AND PRAISE. My soul, when I shake off this dust, Lord, in Thy arms I will intrust : Oh ! make me Thy peculiar care, Some mansion for my soul prepare. Give me a place at Thy saints' feet, Or some fallen angel's vacant seat : I'll strive to sing as loud as they, Who sit above in brighter day. O, may I always ready stand, With my lamp burning in my hand ; May I in sight of heaven rejoice, Whene'er I hear the Bridegroom's voice. All praise to Thee in light array'd, Who light Thy dwelling-place hast made ; A boundless ocean of bright beams From Thy all-glorious Godhead streams. The Sun in its meridian height Is very darkness in Thy sight : My soul, O lighten and inflame With thought and love of Thy great name ! PRAYER AND PRAISE. 195 Blest Jesu ! Thou on heaven intent, Whole nights hast in devotion spent ; But I, frail creature, soon am tired, And all my zeal is soon expired. My soul, how canst thou weary grow Of antedating bliss below, In sacred hymns and heavenly love, Which will eternal be above ? Shine on me, Lord ; new life impart ; Fresh ardours kindle in my heart : One ray of Thy all-quickening light Dispels the sloth and clouds of night ! Lord, lest the tempter we surprise, Watch over Thine own sacrifice ; All loose, all idle thoughts cast out, And make my very dreams devout. Praise God from whom all blessings flow : Praise him, all creatures here below ; Praise him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 196 PRAYER AND PRAISE. THE TEMPER. George Herbert. How should I praise Thee, Lord ! how should my rhymes Gladly engrave Thy love in steel, If, what my soul doth feel sometimes, My soul might ever feel ! Although there were some forty heavens, or more, Sometimes I peer above them all ; Sometimes I hardly reach a score ; Sometimes to hell I fall. Oh, rack me not, to such a vast extent ! Those distances belong to Thee. The world's too little for Thy tent, A grave too big for me. Wilt Thou meet arms with man, that Thou dost stretch A crumb of dust, from heaven to hell ? Will great God measure with a wretch ? Shall He thy stature spell ? PRAYER AND PRAISE. 197 Oh, let me, when Thy roof my soul hath hid, Oh, let me roost and nestle there : Then of a sinner Thou art rid, And I, of hope and fear. Yet take Thy way ; for sure that way is best ; Stretch, or contract, me Thy poor debtor ; This is but tuning of my breast, To make the music better. Whether I fly with angels, fall with dust, Thy hands made both, and I am there. Thy power and love, my love and trust, Make one place everywhere. s3 198 PRAYER AND PRAISE. THE INVITATION. Anonymous. Lord, what unvalued pleasures crown'd The days of old ; When Thou vvert so familiar found, Those days were gold ; — When Abram wish'd Thou couldst afford With him to feast; When Lot but said, " Turn in, my Lord," Thou wert his guest. But, ah ! this heart of mine doth pant, And beat for Thee ; Yet Thou art strange, and wilt not grant Thyself to me. What, shall Thy people be so dear To Thee no more? Or is not Heaven to earth as near As heretofore ? PRAYER AND PRAISE. 199 The famish'd raven's hoarser cry Finds out Thine ear ; My soul is famish'd, and I die, Unless Thou hear. Oh ! Thou'great Alpha ! King of kings ! Or bow to me, Or lend my soul seraphic wings To get to Thee. EVENING. Anonymous. The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended, Recorded every thought and deed ; May He, who to Thy throne ascended, Now for our pardon intercede ! The day is past, with joy or sorrow Charging life's uncertain length : May Thy Spirit for the morrow Teach us hope, and give us strength ! Not to vague, though powerful feeling, Not to false, though visioned, trance, Not to words, the substance stealing From the purpose they advance : 200 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Be that coming strength devoted. But to works of daily good, Our brethren or ourselves promoted Homeward, on the narrow road. PSALM XCIIL— DOMINUS REGNAVIT. Sir Philip Sidney. Cloth'd with state and girt with might, Monarch-like Jehovah reigns, He who earth's foundation pight, Pight at first, and yet sustains. He whose stable throne disdains Motion's shock, and age's flight : He who endless, One remains, One, the same in changeless plight. Rivers, yea, though rivers roar, Roaring though sea billows rise, Vex the deep and break the shore, Stronger art Thou, Lord of skies. Firm and true Thy promise lies, Now and still as heretofore, Holy worship never dies In Thy house where we adore. PRAYER AND PRAISE. 201 PSALM CXLVIII. George Sandys. You who dwell above the skies, Free from human miseries ; You whom highest heaven embowers, Praise the Lord with all your powers. Angels, your clear voices raise, Him your heavenly armies praise ; Sun and moon with borrowed light, All you sparkling eyes of night ; Waters hanging in the air, Heaven of Heavens His praise declare. His deserved praise record, His, who made you by His Word, Made you evermore to last, Set you bounds not to be past. Let the earth His praise resound, Monstrous whales, and seas profound, Vapours, lightnings, hail, and snow, Storms which when He bids them, blow ; Flowery hills and mountains high. Cedars, neighbours to the sky ; Trees that fruit in season yield, All the cattle of the field, 202 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Savage beasts, all creeping things, All that cut the air with wings : You who awful sceptres sway, You inured to obey : Princes, judges of the earth, All of high and humble birth, Youths and virgins flourishing In the beauty of your spring ; You who bow with age's weight, You who were but born of late ; Praise His name with one consent. O, how great ! how excellent ! Than the earth profounder far, Higher than the highest star, He will us to honour raise, You His saints resound His praise ; You who are of Jacob's race, And united to His grace. HYMN WRITTEN AT THE HOLY SEPULCHRE, IN JERUSALEM. George Sandys. Saviour of mankind, Man, Emmanuel ! Who sinless died for sin : who vanquish'd hell ; PRAYER AND PRAISE. 203 The first fruits of the grave : whose life did give Light to our darkness ; in whose death we live : — Oh ! strengthen Thou my faith, convert my will, That mine may Thine obey ; protect me still, So that the latter death may not devour My soul seal'd with Thy seal So, in that hour, When Thou (whose body sanctified this tomb, Unjustly judged), a glorious Judge shall come To judge the world with justice ; by that sign I may be known, and entertain'd for Thine. EVENING HYMN. Thomas Browne. The night is come ; like to the day Depart not Thou, great God, away. Let not my sins, black as the night, Eclipse the lustre of Thy light. Keep still in my horizon ; for to me The Sun makes not the day, but Thee. Thou whose nature cannot sleep, On my temples sentry keep ; Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes, Whose eyes are open while mine close. 204 PRAYER AND PRAISE. Let no dreams my head infest, But such as Jacob's temples blest. While I do rest, my soul advance, Make my sleep a holy trance, That I may, my res>t being wrought, Awake into some holy thought ; And with as active vigour run My course, as doth the nimble Sun, Sleep is a death ; O make me try, By sleeping, what it is to die : And as gently lay my head On my grave, as now my bed. Howe'er I rest, great God, let me Awake again at least with Thee. And thus assured, behold I lie Securely, or to wake or die. These are my drowsy days ; in vain I do now wake to sleep again : O come that hour, when I shall never Sleep again, but wake for ever. THANKFULNESS. Rev. R. C. Trench. Some murmur, when their sky is clear And wholly bright to view, If one small speck of dark appear In their great heaven of blue. And some with thankful love are fill'd, If but one streak of light, One ray of God's good mercy gild The darkness of their night. In palaces are hearts that ask, In discontent and pride, Why life is such a dreary task, And all good things denied. 206 THANKFULNESS. And hearts in poorest huts admire How Love has in their aid (Love that not ever seems to tire) Such rich provision made. GOOD MORROW. George Gascoigne. You that have spent the silent night In sleep and quiet rest, And joy to see the cheerful light That riseth in the East ; Now clear your voice, now cheer your heart, Come, help me now to sing : Each willing wight, come, bear a part, To praise the heavenly King. And you whom care in prison keeps, Or sickness doth suppress, Or secret sorrow breaks your sleeps, Or dolours do distress ; Yet bear a part in doleful wise, Yea, think it good accord, And acceptable sacrifice, Each sprite to serve the Lord. THANKFULNESS. 207 The dreadful night with darksomeness Had overspread the light, And sluggish sleep with drowsiness Had overprest our might : A glass wherein you may behold Each storm that stops our breath, — Our bed the grave, our clothes like mould, And sleep like dreadful death. Yet as this deadly night did last But for a little space, And heavenly day, now night is past, Doth show his pleasant face ; So must we hope to see God's face, At last, in heaven on high, When we have changed this mortal place For immortality. And of such haps and heavenly joys, As then we hope to hold, All earthly sights and worldly toys Are tokens to behold. The day is like the day of doom, — The sun, the Son of man, — The skies, the heavens, — the earth, the tomb Wherein we rest till then. 208 THANKFULNESS. The rainbow bending in the sky, Bedecked with sundry hues, Is like the seat of God on high, And seems to tell these news : — That as thereby He promised To drown the world no more, So by the blood which Christ has shed, He will our health restore. The misty clouds that fall sometime, And overcast the skies, Are like to troubles of our time, Which do but dim our eyes ; But as such dews are dried up quite When Phoebus shows his face. So are such fancies put to flight, When God doth guide to grace. The little birds which sing so sweet, Are like the angels' voice, Which render God his praises meet, And teach us to rejoice : And as they more esteem that mirth Than dread that night's annoy, So must we deem our days on earth But hell, to heavenly joy. THANKFULNESS. 209 Unto which joys for to attain God grant us all His grace, And send us, after worldly pain, In heaven to have a place ; Where we may still enjoy that light Which never shall decay : Lord, for Thy mercy, lend us might To see that joyful day. GAIETY OF HEART. Southey. Scoff ye who will ! but let me, gracious Heaven, Preserve this boyish heart till life's last day .' For so that inward light by Nature given Shall still direct and cheer me on my way, And brightening as the shades of age descend, Shine forth with heavenly radiance at the end. t3 210 THANKFULNESS. ON A REVIEW OF GOD'S MERCIES TO HIM IN HIS TRAVELS. George Sandys. DEO OPT. MAX. O Thou, who all things hast of nothing made, Whose hand the radiant firmament display M, With such an undiscerned swiftness hurl'd About the steadfast centre of the world ; Against whose rapid course the restless sun, And wandering flames in varied motions run, Which heat, light, life infuse ; time, night, and day Distinguish ; in our human bodies sway : That hung'st the solid earth in fleeting air, Vein'd with clear springs, which ambient seas repair : In clouds the mountains wrap their hoary heads ; Luxuriant valleys cloth'd with flowery meads : Her trees yield fruit and shade ; with liberal breasts, All creatures she (their common mother) feasts. Then man Thy image mad'st ; in dignity, In knowledge and in beauty like to Thee ; Placed in a heaven on earth : without his toil The ever flourishing and fruitful soil Unpurchased food produced : all creatures were His subjects serving more for love than fear, THANKFULNESS. 211 He knew no Lord but Thee ; but when he fell From his obedience, all at once rebel. And in his ruin exercise their might : Concurring elements against him fight : Troops of unknown diseases — sorrow, age, And death assail him with successive rage. Hell let forth all her furies : none so great, As man to man, ambition, pride, deceit : Wrong arm'd with power, lust, rapine, slaughter reign'd, And flatterM vice, the name of virtue gain'd. Then hills beneath the swelling waters stood, And all the globe of earth was but one flood, Yet could not cleanse their guilt : the following race Worse than their fathers, and their sons more base : Their God-like beauty lost — sin's wretched thrall ; No spark of their divine original Left unextinguish'd ; all enveloped With darkness ; in their bold transgressions dead ; When thou didst from the East a light display, Which rendered to the world a clearer day ; W f hose precepts from hell's jaws our steps withdraw, And whose example was a living law : Who purg'd us with His blood ; the way prepared To heaven, and those long-chain'd-up doors unbarred. How infinite Thy mercy ! which exceeds The world Thou mad'st as well as our misdeeds ! 212 THANKFULNESS. Which greater reverence than Thy justice wins, And still augments Thy honour by our sins. O, who hath tasted of Thy clemency In greater measure, or more oft than I ! My grateful verse Thy goodness shall display, O Thou, who went'st along in all my way : To where the morning with perfumed wings From the high mountains of Panchcea springs, To that new-found. out world, where sober night Takes from the antipodes her silent flight ; To those dark seas, where horrid winter reigns, And binds the stubborn floods in icy chains : To Lybian wastes, whose thirst no showers assuage, And where swollen Nilus cools the lion's rage. Thy wonders in the deep have I beheld ; Yet all by those on Judah's hills excell'd : There where the Virgin's Son His doctrine taught, His miracles, and our redemption wrought : Where I, by Thee inspir'd, His praises sung ; And on His sepulchre my offering hung. Which way soe'er I turn my face or feet t I see Thy glory, and Thy mercy meet ; Met on the Thracian shores, when in the strife Of frantic Simoans Thou preserv'dst my life. So when Arabian thieves belaid us round, And when by all abandon'd Thee I found, THANKFULNESS. 213 That false Sidonian wolf, whose craft put on A sheep's soft fleece, and me Bellerophon To ruin by his cruel letter sent ; Thou didst by Thy protecting hand prevent. Thou sav'dst me from the bloody massacres, Of faithless Indians ; from their treacherous wars ; From raging fevers ; from the sultry breath Of tainted air, which cloy'd the jaws of death ; Preserv'd from swallowing seas, when towering waves Mixed with the clouds, and opened their deep graves ; From barbarous pirates ransom'd ; by those taught Successfully with Salian Moors we fought. Then brought 'st me home in safety ; that this earth Might bury me, which fed me from my birth : Blest with a healthful age ; a quiet mind, Content with little ; to this work designed, Which I at length have finished by Thy aid, And now my vows have at Thy Altar paid. SONNET. Drummond. Sweet bird that sing'st away the early hours, Of winters past, or coming, void of care, Well pleased with delights that present are, Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers : 214 THANKFULNESS. To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare, And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare ; A stain to human sense, in sin that lowers. What soul can be so sick, which by thy songs (Attired in sweetness) sweetly is not driven Quite to forget Earth's turmoils, spites, and wrongs And lift a reverend eye and thought, to Heaven ? Sweet artless songster, thou my mind dost raise To airs of spheres, yes, and to angels' lays. V^X- CONTEMPLATION. HYMN TO DARKNESS. John Norris. Hail, thou most sacred, venerable thing ! What muse is worthy thee to sing ? Thee from whose pregnant, universal womb, All things, even light, thy rival, first did come. What dares he not attempt, that sings of thee, Thou first and greatest mystery? Who can the secrets of thy essence tell ? Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible. Before great Love this monument did raise, This ample theatre of praise ; 216 CONTEMPLATION. Before the folding circles of the sky Were tuned by Him, who is all harmony ; Before the morning stars their hymn began, Before the council held for man, Before the birth of either time or place, Thou reignMst unquestioned monarch in the empty space. Thy native lot thou didst to light resign, But still half of the globe is thine. Here with a quiet, but yet awful hand, Like the best emperors thou dost command. To thee the stars above, their brightness owe, And mortals their repose below ; To thy protection fear and sorrow flee, And those that weary are of light, find rest in thee. Though light and glory be the Almighty's throne, Darkness is His pavilion ; From that, His radiant beauty, but from thee He has His terror and His majesty : Thus when He first proclaimed His sacred law, And would His rebel subjects awe, Like princes on some great solemnity, He appeared in robes of state, and clad Himself with thee. CONTEMPLATION. 217 The bless'd above do thy sweet umbrage prize, When, cloyed with light, they veil their eyes ; The vision of the Deity is made More sweet and beatific by thy shade ; But we, poor tenants of this orb below, Don't here thy excellencies know Till death our understandings does improve, And then our wiser ghosts thy silent night-walks love. But thee I now admire, thee would I choose For my religion, or my muse. 'Tis hard to tell whether thy reverend shade Has more good votaries, or poets made : From thy dark caves were inspirations given, And from thick groves went vows to Heaven. Hail, then, thou muse's and devotion's spring, 'Tis just we should adore, 'tis just we should thee sing. 218 CONTEMPLATION. CHARITAS NIMIA, OR THE DEAR BARGAIN. Crashaw. Lord, what is man ? why should he cost Thee So dear ? what had his ruin lost Thee ? Lord, what is man ? that thou hast over-bought So much a thing of nought. Love is too kind, I see, and can Make but a simple merchant-man. 'Twas for such sorry merchandise Bold painters have put out his eyes. Alas, sweet Lord, what wert to Thee If there were no such worms as we ? Heaven ne'er the less still Heaven would be. Should mankind dwell In the deep Hell, What have his woes to do with Thee ? Let him go weep O'er his own wounds ; Seraphims will not sleep, Nor spheres let fall their faithful rounds. CONTEMPLATION. 219 Still would the youthful spirits sing, And still Thy spacious palace ring. Still would those beauteous ministers of light Burn all as bright And bow their flaming heads before Thee, Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee, Still would those ever wakeful sons of fire Keep warm Thy praise, Both nights and days, And teach Thy lov'd Name to their noble lyre. Let froward dust then do its kind ; And give itself for sport to the proud wind. Why should a piece of feeble clay plead shares In the eternity of Thy old cares ? Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awful breast to see What mine own madnesses have done with me ? Should not the king still keep his throne Because some desperate fool's undone ? Or will the world's illustrious eyes Weep for every worm that dies ? W T ill the gallant sun E'er the less glorious run ? Will he hang down his golden head, Or e'er the sooner seek his western bed, Because some foolish fly Grows wanton and will die ? 220 CONTEMPLATION. If I were lost in misery, What was it to Thy heaven and Thee ? What was it to Thy precious blood, If my foul heart call'd for a flood ? What if my faithless soul and I Would needs fall in With guilt and sin, What did the Lamb that He should die ? What did the Lamb that He should need, When the wolf sins, Himself to bleed ? If my base lust Bargain'd with death, and well beseeming dust, Why should the white Lamb's bosom write The purple name Of my sin's shame ? Why should His unstain'd breast make good My blushes with His own heart-blood ? O my Saviour, make me see How dearly Thou hast paid for me, That lost again, my life may prove, As then in death, so now in love. CONTEMPLATION. DIVINE EJACULATION. John Quern Great God, whose sceptre rules the earth, Distil Thy fear into my heart, That being wrapt with holy mirth, I may proclaim how good Thou art : Open my lips, that I may sing, Full praises to my God, my King. Great God, Thy garden is defaced, The weeds thrive there, the flowers decay ; O call to mind Thy promise past, Restore Thou them, cut these away. Till then let not the weeds have power To starve or stint the poorest flower. In all extremes, Lord, Thou art still The mount whereto my hopes do flee ; O make my soul detest all ill, Because so much abhorr'd by Thee : Lord, let Thy gracious trials show That I am just, or make me so. u3 222 CONTEMPLATION. Shall mountain, desert, beast, and tree, Yield to that heavenly voice of Thine, And shall that voice not startle me, Nor stir this stone — this heart of mine ? No, Lord, till Thou new-bore mine ear, Thy voice is lost, I cannot hear. Fountain of light and living breath, Whose mercies never fail nor fade, Fill me with life that hath no death, Fill me with light that hath no shade ; Appoint the remnant of my days To see Thy power, and sing Thy praise. Lord God of gods, before whose throne Stand storms and fire, O what shall we Return to Heaven, that is our own, When all the world belongs to Thee ? We have no offering to impart, But praises and a wounded heart. Thou, that sitt'st in Heaven and see'st My deeds without, my thoughts within, Be Thou my prince, be Thou my priest, Command my soul, and cure my sin : How bitter my afflictions be 1 care not, so I rise to Thee. CONTEMPLATION. 223 What I possess, or what I crave, Brings no content, great God, to me, If what I would, or what I have, Be not possess'd, and bless'd in Thee : What I enjoy, oh, make it mine, In making me — that have it — Thine. When winter-fortunes cloud the brows Of summer-friends, — when eyes grow strange, — When plighted faith forgets its vows, When earth and all things in it change, — O Lord, Thy mercies fail me never — Where once Thou lov'st Thou lov'st for ever. Great God, whose kingdom hath no end, Into whose secrets none can dive, Whose mercy none can apprehend, Whose justice none can feel and live, What my dull heart cannot aspire To know, Lord, teach me to admire. 224 CONTEMPLATION. DELIGHT IN GOD ONLY. Francis Quarles. I love (and have some cause to love) the earth : She is my Maker's creature ; therefore good : She is my mother, for she gave me birth ; She is my tender nurse ; she gives me food ; But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee ? Or what's my mother or my nurse to me ? I love the air : her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me ; Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustains me with their flesh, And with their polyphonian notes delight me : But what's the air or all the sweets that she Can bless my soul withal, compared w r ith Thee ? I love the sea : she is my fellow-creature, My careful purveyor ; she provides me store : She walls me round ; she makes my diet greater; She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore ; But, Lord of oceans, when compared with Thee, What is the ocean or her wealth to me ? CONTEMPLATION. 225 To heaven's high city I direct my journey, Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye ; Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney, Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky : But what is heaven, great God, compared to Thee ? Without Thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me. Without Thy presence earth gives no refection ; Without Thy presence sea affords no treasure ; Without Thy presence air's a rank infection ; Without Thy presence heaven itself no pleasure : If not possess'd, if not enjoy'd in Thee, What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me ? The highest honours that the world can boast, Are subjects far too low for my desire ; The brightest beams of glory are (at most) But dying sparkles of Thy living fire : The loudest flames that earth can kindle, be But nightly glow-worms if compared to Thee. Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares ; Wisdom, but folly ; joy, disquiet — sadness : Friendship is treason, and delights are snares ; Pleasures but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness ; Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be, Nor have they being, when compared with Thee. 226 CONTEMPLATION. In having all things, and not Thee, what have I ? Not having Thee, what have my labours got ? Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ? And having Thee alone, what have I not ? I wish nor sea, nor land ; nor would I be Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of Thee. COLLEGE LIBRARY. Rev. F. W. Faber. A churchyard with a cloister running round And quaint old effigies in act of prayer, And painted banners mouldering strangely there, AVhere mitred prelates and grave doctors sleep ; Memorials of a consecrated ground ! Such is this antique room, a haunted place Where dead men's spirits come, and angels keep Long hours of watch with wings in silence furled. Early and late have I kept vigil here : And I have seen the moonlight shadows trace Dim glories on the missal's blue and gold, The work of my monastic sires that told Of quiet ages, men call dark and drear, For Faith's soft light is darkness to the world. CONTEMPLATION. 227 A HERMIT'S MEDITATION. Anonymous. In lonesome cave, Of noise and interruption void, His thoughtful solitude A Hermit thus enjoyed : His choicest book The remnant of a human head, The volume was — whence he This solemn lecture read. Whoe'er thou art, Partner of my retirement now, My nearest intimate, My best companion thou ! On thee to muse The busy world I left, Of converse all but thine — And silent that — bereft. 228 CONTEMPLATION. Wert thou the rich, The idol of a gazing crowd ; Wert thou the great, To whom obsequious thousands bow'd ? Was learning's store E'er treasured up within this shell ? Did wisdom e'er within This empty hollow dwell ? Did youthful charms E'er redden on this ghastful face ? Did beauty's bloom these cheeks, This forehead, ever grace ? If on this brow, E'er sat the scornful haughty frown ; Deceitful Pride I where now Is that disdain ? — 'tis gone ! If cheerful mirth A gayness o'er this baldness cast ; Delusive, fleeting joy ! Where is it now ? — 'tis past ! CONTEMPLATION. 229 To deck this scalp, If tedious long lived hours it cost ; Vain fruitless toil ! where's now That labour seeir^? — 'tis lost ! But painful sweat, The dear earned price of daily bread, Was all perhaps that thee With hungry sorrows fed. Perhaps but tears, Surest relief of heart-sick woe, Thine only drink, from down These sockets used to flow. Oppressed perhaps With misery, and with aged cares, Down to the grave thou brought'st A few and hoary hairs. 'Tis well perhaps No marks, no tokens can I trace, What on this stage of life, Thy rank or station was. 230 CONTEMPLATION. Nameless, unknown, Of all distinctions stripped and bare, In nakedness concealed, Oh, who shall thee declare ? Nameless, unknown, Yet fit companion thou for me, Who hear no human voice, No human visage see. From me, from thee, The glories of the world are gone ; Nor yet have either lost What we could call our own. What we are now, The great, the wise, the fair, the brave, Shall all hereafter be, All hermits in the grave. CONTEMPLATION. 231 Rev. Henry A If or d. I sought for Novelty — in vain I searched the stores of Nature through : But now the object wished I gain — Thy mercies, Lord, are ever new. I sought for Beauty — set of sun, And rainbow, and the rising light, — These all were fair, and quickly gone ; Thy face, my God, is always bright. I sought Fidelity — some friends Have fallen away, and some endure : And Death the firmest love-knot rends ; — Thy Love, O Lord, alone is sure. I sought for Truth — the more I sought A living lie around me grew ; False was all joy, all speech, all thought — Thy promise, Lord, alone is true. 232 CONTEMPLATION. MINISTERING SPIRITS. My Mother, in God's Holy Word You read the Prophet of the Lord Did to his trembling servant's sight Reveal the glorious Angels bright, And bade him cease his foes to fear, Since God had placed those Guardians near ; And, oh ! I often long to know If Angels still are sent below, If I may ever hope to see An Angel watching over me. My darling Child, the eye of sense Is closed by God's omnipotence, But to the eye of faith is given Glimpse of the Messengers of Heaven, And the pure heart allowed by grace The spirit-ministry to trace Through Nature's works, till all around The mysteries of God are found, The starry sky, the flower-gemmed dell, Peopled by Powers invisible. CONTEMPLATION. 233 Mother, I feel the starry sky Looks nightly down with beaming eye, And you have bid me deem each star A sun to light great world afar, And taught that God sustains the whole, Ruling by ministered control, Till I have thought those glorious things Glowed 'neath the fan of Angel-wings ; But, oh ! so far above they seem, The thought flits by me as a dream, And still I often long to know Angels are ministering below, Then tell me how in flower-gemmed dell To trace them, though invisible. My Child, my Child, you lately read How Philip by the Spirit led, The Ethiopian lord o'ertook, Who dimly scanned God's Holy book, Who read, yet failed to understand, Till he, ordained by God's command, The text explained — So round us lie The records of the Deity, Strewn o'er each verdant mead, they swell The debt of Love ineffable, Glow in the sunset clouds, or pour Their grateful balm in dewy shower, x3 234 CONTEMPLATION. Yet speak not but to those " whose mind Is set to hallow all they find." To such, who tread the Church's ways In sacred round of prayer and praise, Each varying season brings its store Of more than scientific lore — They know that ministry of Heaven To bless the Christian's path is given, And they can see each flower caressed By Angel-hands, with influence blessed E'en to their souls, whose finer sense can feel More subtle beauty than those forms reveal. Mother, dear Mother, when the king-cups gay, And the sweet cowslips call me out to play, When I shall seek the flower you love the best, The hidden violet, to perfume your breast, When the bright starwort lifts its dazzling eye As gazing on its kindred of the sky, And the pale primrose peeping through its leaves, From early dew its cordial receives, Mother, dear Mother, may I think they show Where Angel-footsteps guard our paths below, Or cluster there in rich embroidery bright, To deck an Angel's robe of purest white ? — Such thought were sweet — yet, Mother, I would see With faithful eye an Angel watching me. CONTEMPLATION. 235 My Child, it was when outward foe drew nigh, That guardian Angels cheered the Prophet's eye ; Such foe in peaceful times may not be thine, Yet thou shalt need a guardianship divine. Pray, then, that Angel-ministry may stand To gird thy loins, to arm thy feeble hand, To prompt to holy thoughts, to urge the way Of lowly duty, when thy thoughts would stray, To guide thy feet in paths thy Saviour trod, And lead through blest obedience to thy God. LIFE AND TIME CHILDHOOD. From the Baptistery. Ere sin hath brush'd away the morning bloom, How great the care to holy Childhood due, When streaks of purple morn the cheek illume, And light the drops of the Baptismal dew ! It is a precious sight, which angels view In trembling joy and hope ; immortal Love Hangs o'er it, watching every opening hue, For such alone on this bad earth may prove Meet for his golden house in highest Heaven above. Childhood in God's own temple ever found, As when the lamps of Eve their shadow flung, And Samuel heard the awful voice profound ; Or when the Temple with hosannahs rung, And Christ was welcomed by the infant tongue ! LIFE AND TIME. 237 Yea, Christ himself is seen a holy Child, Sitting His heavenly Father's courts among : Then what, O Lord, 'mong men by sin beguiled, Is for Thy Temple meet, but Childhood undefiTd? Sweet Childhood, shadow of celestial Love, Train'd to look up and hold a parent's hand, And ever lift the eye to one above ; Which knows not yet, while it obeys command, Hopes all, and all believes ; Elysian land, Where that which is most lovely, seems most true ! Sweet unsuspecting Childhood, whose sweet wand Bids fair enchanting scenes arise to view, Faint emblem of that Love that maketh all things new ! Thou dost o'er all thine own dear charms diffuse, And through our weary life we turn to thee As to a fountain fresh, where heavenly dews Are on each scene, and after all we flee To what we loved in holier infancy : Meek Childhood, in my soul again arise, Drinking the air of immortality, Thou shed'st o'er life a gleam of Paradise, Lifting the earth to Heaven or bringing down the skies ! 238 LIFE AND TIME. Blest is the shield, when Childhood's Innocence Watches around like some unearthly spell, Ere it has flown before the manlier sense : Instinctive spirits, which in virtue dwell, Keep ward within, and from their citadel Fly to the cheek at every thought of blame, Conscious of weakness e'en in doing well, Anticipate in fear the glowing shame, The fear of ill more pure than virtue's boasted name. Great be the heed, nor word nor deed unclean Should soil that mirror which reflects the skies, For evil angels watch around unseen To spoil that bloom, so dear in heavenly eyes, Which nothing can recall : O, learn to prize That ignorance, let manhood wait awhile : Manhood must learn of Childhood to be wise In wisdom prized of God, and free from guile ; — Her very light deceives, her wisdom doth defile. LIFE. George Herbert. I made a posy, while the day ran by : " Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band." LIFE AND TIME. 239 But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, By noon, most cunningly did steal away And withered in rny hand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart : I took without more thinking, in good part Time's gentle admonition ; Who did so sweetly death's sad taste convey, Making my mind to smell my fatal day, Yet sugaring the suspicion. Farewell, dear flowers ! sweetly your time ye spent ; Fit, while ye lived, for smell or ornament ; And, after death, for cures. 1 follow straight, without complaints or grief; Since, if my scent be good, I care not if It be as short as yours. 240 LIFE AND TIME » Shirley. The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things : There is no armour against fate : Death lays his icy hands on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield, They tame but one another still. Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death, The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds : LIFE AND TIME. 241 Upon death's purple altar now, See where the victor-victim bleeds ! Your heads must come To the cold tomb. Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in the dust. EMBLEMS. From " England's Helicon" As withereth the primrose by the river, As fadeth summer's sun from gliding fountains, As vanisheth the light blown bubble ever, As melteth snow upon the mossy mountains : So melts, so vanishes, so fades, so withers The rose, the shine, the bubble, and the snow Of praise, pomp, glory, joy (which short life gathers), Fair praise, vain pomp, sweet glory, brittle joy ! The withered primrose by the mourning river, The faded summer's sun, from weeping fountains, The light blown bubble, vanished for ever, The molten snow upon the naked mountains, Are emblems that the treasures we uplay, Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. Y 242 LIFE AND TIME. THE LIFE OF MAN. Dr. King, Bishop of Chichester. Like to the falling of a star, Or as the flights of eagles are, Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue, Or silver drops of morning dew ; Or like a wind that chafes the flood, Or bubble which on water stood, E'en such is man, whose borrowed light Is straight called in and paid to-night. The wind blows out, the bubble dies, The spring entombed in autumn lies ; The stream dries up, the star is shot, The flight is past and man forgot. TIME. Jasper Mayne. Time is the feather'd thing, And whilst I praise The sparklings of thy locks, and call them rays, Takes wing — LIFE AND TIME. Leaving behind him, as he flies, An unperceived dimness in thine eyes. His minutes, whilst they're told, Do make us old ; And every sand of his fleet glass, Increasing age as it doth pass, Insensibly sows wrinkles there, Where flowers and roses do appear. AVhilst we do speak, our fire Doth into ice expire ; Flames turn to frost ; and ere we can Know how our cheek turns pale and wan, Or how a silver snow Springs there where jet did grow, Our fading spring is in dull winter lost. 243 244 LIFE AND TIME. " man's flitting life finds surest stay, where sacred virtue beareth sway." Anonymous. The sturdy rock for all his strength, By raging seas is rent in twain ; The marble stone is pierced at length With little drops of drizzling rain. The ox doth yield unto the yoke, The steel obey'th the hammer stroke. Yea, man himself, unto whose will All things are bounden to obey, For all his wit and worthy skill Doth fade at length, and fall away. There is no thing, but time doth waste : The heavens, the earth consume at last. But virtue sits triumphing still Upon the throne of glorious Fame ; Though spiteful death man's body kill, Yet hurts he not his virtuous name. By life or death, whatso betides, The state of virtue never slides. LIFE AND TIME. 245 NOTHINGNESS OF MATTER. Lyra Apostolica. 5. In Childhood, when with eager eyes, The season-measured year I viewed, All garbed in fairy guise, Pledged constancy of good. Spring sang of heaven ; the summer-flowers Let me gaze on, and did not fade ; Even suns o'er autumn's bowers Heard my strong wish and stayed. They came and went, the short-lived four, Yet as their varying dance they wove, To my young heart each bore Its own sure claim of love. Far different now ; — the whirling year Vainly my dizzy eyes pursue ; And its fair tints appear All blent in one dusk hue. y 3 246 LIFE AND TIME. Why dwell on rich autumnal lights, Spring-time, or winter's social ring ? Long days are fire-side nights, Brown autumn is fresh spring. Then what this world to thee, my heart ? Its gifts nor feed thee nor can bless ; Thou hast no owner's part In all its fleetingness. The flame, the storm, the quaking ground, Earth's joy, earth's terror, nought is thine : Thou must but hear the sound Of the still voice divine. O princely lot ! O blissful art ! E'en while by sense of change opprest, Thus to forecast in heart Heaven's Age of fearless rest. HOLY DYING. THE DAWNING. Henry Vaughan. Ah ! what time wilt Thou come ? when shall that cry, " The Bridegroom cometh !" fill the sky ? Shall it in the evening run, When our words and works are done ? Or will Thy all-surprising light Break at midnight ; When either sleep, or some dark pleasure, Possesseth mad man without measure ? Or shall these early fragrant hours Unlock thy bowers ; And with their blush of light descry Thy locks crown'd with eternity ? Indeed it is the only time That with Thy glory doth best chime ; 248 HOLY DYING. All now are stirring, every field Full hymns doth yield : The whole creation shakes off night, And for Thy shadow looks the light : Stars now vanish without number ; Sleepy planets set and slumber ; The pursy clouds disband and scatter ; All expect some sudden matter, Not one beam triumphs, but from far That morning star. O, at what time soever Thou (Unknown to us) the heavens wilt bow : And, with Thy angels in the van, Descend to judge poor careless man ; Grant, I may not all stagnant lie In a corrupt security ; Where, if a traveller water crave, He finds it dead, and in a grave ; But as this restless vocal spring All day and night doth run, and sing ; And though here born, yet is acquainted Elswhere, and flowing keeps untainted ; So let me all my busy age In Thy free services engage ; And though (while here) of force I must Have commerce sometimes with poor dust ; HOLY DYING. 249 And in my flesh, though vile and low, As this doth in her channel flow ; Yet let my course, my aim, my love, And chief acquaintance be above. So when that day and hour shall come In which Thyself will be the sun, Thou'lt find me dressed and on my way, Watching the break of Thy great day. THE REST OF THE JUST. Bishop Ken. The Saints of old are rather said, To sleep with fathers than lie dead, And e'er since evangelic day Diffused its bright Heaven-opening Ray, The Saints are said, when life they close, In Dormitories to repose. Death, then, my soul, in memory keep, And rest assured it is a sleep : Sleep when with long fatigue distressed, Gives to the weary grateful rest ; Sleep, after man's laborious cares, By soft refreshment strength repairs. 250 HOLY DYING. NOT TO THE GRAVE. Southey. Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul, Descend to contemplate The form that once was dear ; Feed not on thoughts so loathly horrible 1 The spirit is not there, That kindled that dead eye, That throbb'd in that cold heart, That in that lifeless hand Has met thy friendly grasp. The spirit is not there ! It is but lifeless perishable flesh, That moulders in the grave : Earth, air, and waters, mingling particles, Now to their elements Resolved, their uses done. Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul, Follow thy friend beloved ; The spirit is not there 1 Often together have we talked of death : How sweet it were to see All doubtful things made clear : HOLY DYING. 251 How sweet it were with eyes Such as the Cherubim, To view the depths of heaven, O, thou hast first Begun the travel of eternity ; I gaze amid the stars And think that thou art there, Unfettered as the thought that follows thee. And we have often said, how sweet it were, With unseen ministry of angel power, To watch the friend beloved, — — We did not err ! Sure I have felt thy presence ! thou hast given A birth to holy thoughts ! Hast kept me from the world, unstained and pure, — We did not err ! Our best affections, here, They are not like the toys of infancy ; The soul outgrows them not ; We do not cast them off ; 1 if it could be so, It were a dreadful thing indeed to die ! Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul, Follow thy friend beloved ; 252 HOLY DYING. But in the lonely hour — But in the evening walk — Think that he companies thy solitude ; Think that he holds with thee Mysterious intercourse ; And if remembrance wake a tear There will be " joy in grief." TRUE LIFE. Hickes' Devotions. Lord Jesus, when, when shall it be, That I no more shall break with Thee ! When will this war of passions cease ! And let my soul enjoy Thy peace ! Here I repent and sin again ; Now I revive, and now am slain : Slain with the same unhappy dart, Which, O, too often wounds my heart. When, dearest Lord, when shall I be A garden seal'd to all but Thee ? No more exposed, no more undone ; But live, and grow to Thee alone ? HOLY DYING. 253 'Tis not, alas ! on this low earth, That such pure flowers can find a birth ; Only they spring above the skies, Where none can live, till here he dies. Then, let me die, that I may go, And dwell where those bright lilies grow ; Where those blest plants of glory rise, And make a safer paradise. No dangerous fruit, no tempting Eve, No crafty serpent to deceive ; But we like gods indeed shall be ; O, let me die, that life to see. Thus says my song : but does my heart Join with the words, and sing its part ? Am I so thorough wise to chuse The other world, and this refuse ? Why should I not ? What do I find That fully here contents my mind ? What is this meat, and drink, and sleep, That such poor things from Heaven should keep ? z 254 HOLY DYING. What is this honour, or great place, Or bag of money, or fair face ? What's all the world, that thus we should Still long to dwell with flesh and blood ? Fear not, my soul, stand to thy word, Which thou hast sung to thy dear Lord ; Let but thy love be firm and true, And with more heat thy wish renew. O, may this dying life make haste, To die into true life at last ; No hope have I to live before, But then to live, and die no more. THE DEATH OF MOSES. Anonymous. His eye toward the promised land, Submiss and gentle, see him stand, Bent o'er his gifted rod : HOLY DYING. 255 Meek amid such magnificence Of certain power, his heart intense With faith, and love, and reverence, He worshipped the true God. That God had known him face to face, Had showered upon his spirit, grace, Upon his features, light : By him, the Lord of hosts had wrought His signs and wonders, while He brought His people home ; by Moses, taught His covenant, His might. Hard by flowed Jordan ; Moses heard In meekness, and obeyed God's word ; His thrilling chant rung high : And forth the camp, calm and content, His eye not dim, his strength not spent, From Moab's plain the prophet went Up Nebo's steep, to die. No mortal ear drank his last breath ; No mortal eye beheld his death ; He died on Abarim : HOLY DYING. His grave, no mortal mourners tend : His God was with him, as his friend, Was comforting his latter end, Now, ever blesses him. PAUCITATEM DIERUM MEORUM NUNCIA MIHI. William Habington. Tell me, O great all-knowing God ! What period Hast Thou unto my days assigned ? Like some old leafless tree, shall I Wither away, or violently Fall by the axe, by lightning, or the wind ? Here where I first drew vital breath, Shall I meet death ? And find in the same vault a room Where my forefathers' ashes sleep ? Or shall I die where none shall weep My timeless fate, and my cold earth intomb ? HOLY DYING. 257 Shall I 'gainst the swift Parthians fight, And in their flight Receive my death ? Or shall I see That envied peace, in which we are Triumphant yet, disturbed by war, And perish by the invading enemy ? Astrologers, who calculate Uncertain fate, Affirm my scheme doth not presage Any abridgement of my days : And the physician gravely says, I may enjoy a reverend length of age. But they are jugglers, and by sleight Of art, the sight Of faith delude : and in their school They only practise how to make A mystery of each mistake, And teach strange words, credulity to fool. For Thou who first didst motion give, Whereby things live And time hath being ! to conceal Future events didst think it fit, To check the ambition of our wit, And keep in awe the curious search of zeal. z3 258 HOLY DYING. Therefore, so I prepar'd still be, My God, for Thee : O' the sudden on my spirits may Some killing apoplexy seize, Or let me by a dull disease, Or weaken'd by a feeble age, decay. And so I in Thy favour die, No memory For me a well-wrought tomb prepare, For if my soul be 'mong the blest, Though my poor ashes want a chest, I shall forgive the trespass of my heirs. HOI.Y DYING. 259 THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. From " the Baptistery.' There is a spot beside a hill, Where sleep the dead in holy ground, Nor know I aught so sweet and still As is the peace which there is found. There, where beneath the churchyard wall Adown the glen the waters fall, Beneath a tapering ash-tree's shade Three graves are by each other laid. * # * * Beneath an ash-tree's light green shade, There side by side the three are laid ; Laid by that churchyard gate at last, Whereby they oft together pass'd. That ash puts on, and drops its leaves, When the dishevelPd Autumn grieves ; But no rude change again shall come, To reach them in their peaceful home. When Death first ope'd the silent door, The youth arose and went before ; And so from places of the blest, 260 HOLY DYING. Grief came to be his parents' guest, To fit them for his happier rest. The Priest was such as Chaucer drew In very lineament and hue ; Save when his love o'er children bent, It something to the surface sent, — A child-like soul, which takes delight In lowly deeds, and shows aright, The true and guileless Israelite. Often he seem'd by toil oppress'd, Oftener in very toil at rest ; Nor ever deem'd his labour done Till he that last repose had won, Where now the chequer'd shadows wave, And breathe that peace above his grave. Since he hath been in yonder tomb, Full many a house hath caught the gloom, Full many a widow's heart is cold, And many, used his hand to hold, Have miss'd the shepherd from the fold. Her form I see, though gone from sight, Yet ne'er of her can speak aright ; But if the Peace which dwells above E'er took the form of earthly Love, 'Twas like that spirit meek, whose price Is more than costliest sacrifice. HOLY DYING. 261 Lord, if my many sins below Forbid me here that peace to know, Grant when from these my chains set free, I put on immortality, I may be with them at the close, And find at last their true repose. DEATH. Lyra Apostolica. I Whene'er goes forth Thy dread command, And my last hour is nigh, Lord, grant me in a Christian land, As I was born, to die. I pray not, Lord, that friends may be Or kindred standing by ; Choice blessing ! which I leave to Thee, To give me, or deny. But let my failing limbs beneath My Mother's smile recline ; My name in sickness and in death Heard in her sacred shrine. 262 HOLY DYING. And may the Cross beside my bed In its meet emblems rest ; And may the absolving words be said To ease a laden breast. Thou, Lord ! where'er we lie, canst aid ; But He, who taught His own To live as one, will not upbraid The dread to die alone. AN OLD MAN'S WISH.* In three days' time, when I am dead, Then lay me in my churchyard bed ; Let my remembrance often creep Across thy soul ; — but do not weep, Yea, smile and say upon my bier There is no cause for weeping here : Then go ; so live, thy death may be Such as no friend need weep for thee. * See Bishop Sanderson's last will. S. R. HOLY DYING. 263 Waller. The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er, So calm are we when passions are no more ! For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries : The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, As they draw near to their eternal home ; Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new. 264 HOLY DYING. THE DAY OF DEATH. Rev. R. C. Trench. Thou inevitable day, When a voice to me shall say — " Thou must rise and come away ; All thine other journeys past, Gird thee and make ready fast For thy longest and thy last." — Day deep-hidden from our sight In impenetrable night, Who may guess of thee aright ? Art thou distant, art thou near ? Wilt thou seem more dark or clear ? Day with more of hope or fear ? Wilt thou come, not seen before Thou art standing at the door, Saying, light and life are o'er ? HOLY DYING. 265 Or with such a gradual pace, As shall leave me largest space To regard thee face to face ? Shall I lay my drooping head On some loved lap, round my bed Prayer be made and tears be shed ? Or at distance from mine own, Name and kin alike unknown, Make my solitary moan ? Will there yet be things to leave, Hearts to which this heart must cleave, From which parting it must grieve ? Or shall life's best ties be o'er, And all loved things gone before To that other happier shore ? Shall I gently fall on sleep, Death, like slumber, o'er me creep, Like a slumber sweet and deep ? HOLY DYING. Or the soul long strive in vain To get free, with toil and pain, From its half divided chain ? Little skills it when or how, If thou comest then or now, With a smooth or angry brow ; Come thou must, and we must die- Jesus, Saviour, stand Thou by, When that last sleep seals our eye. FUTURE STATE. THE MEDITATION. John Norris. It must be done, my soul, but 'tis a strange A dismal and mysterious change, When thou shalt leave this tenement of clay, And to an unknown somewhere wing away ; When time shall be eternity, and thou Shall be thou know'st not what, and live thou know'st not how. Amazing state ! no wonder that we dread To think of death, or view the dead. Thou'rt all wrapp'd up in clouds, as if to thee Our very knowledge had antipathy. Death could not a more sad retinue find — Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind. 268 FUTURE STATE. Some courteous ghost, tell this great secresy, What 'tis you are and we must be. You warn us of approaching death, and why May we not know from you what 'tis to die ? But you, having shot the gulf, delight to see Succeeding souls plunge in, with like uncertainty. When life's close knot, by writ from destiny, Disease shall cut, or age untie ; When after some delays, some dying strife, The soul stands shivering on the ridge of life ; With what a dreadful curiosity Doth she launch out into the sea, of vast eternity ! So when the spacious globe was deluged o'er, And lower holds could save no more, On the utmost bough the astonish'd sinner stood, And view'd the advances of th' encroaching flood ; O'ertopp'd at length by the element's increase, With horror they resign'd to the untried abyss. FUTURE STATE. 269 SONNET. Drummond. Why, worldlings, do ye trust frail honour's dreams, And lean to gilded glories which decay ? Why do ye toil to registrate your names On icy pillars, which soon melt away ? True honour is not here, that place it claims Where black-brow'd night doth not exile the day, Nor no far-shining lamp dives in the sea, But an eternal sun spreads lasting beams ; There it attendeth you, where spotless bands Of spirits stand gazing on their sovereign bliss, Where years not hold it in their cankering hands, But who, once noble, ever noble is. Look home, lest he your weaken'd wit make thrall, Who Eden's foolish gardener once made fall. A SAINT RECEIVED IN HEAVEN. Crashaw. Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee, Glad at their own home now to meet thee. All thy good works which went before, And waited for thee at the door, Shall own thee there : and all in one Weave a constellation Aa3 270 FUTURE STATE. Of crowns with which the King thy Spouse, Shall build up thy triumphant brows. All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, And thy pains sit bright upon thee ; All thy sorrows there shall shine, And thy sufferings be divine : Tears shall take comfort and turn gems, And wrongs repent to diadems : E'en thy deaths shall live, and new Dress the soul, that erst they slew. Those rare works where thou shalt leave writ Love's noble history, with wit Taught thee by none but Him ; while here They feed our souls, shall clothe thine there. Each heavenly word, by whose hid flame Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same Shall flourish on thy brows and be Both fire to us, and flame to thee ; Whose light shall live bright, in thy face By glory, in our hearts by grace. Thou shalt look round about, and see Thousands of crown'd souls throng to be Themselves thy crown ; sons of thy vows The virgin births, with which thy Sovereign Spouse Made fruitful thy fair soul. Go now And with them all about thee bow To Him. * * • * FUTURE STATE. 271 PEACE. Henry Vaughan. My soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars : There above noise and danger, Sweet peace sits crown'd with smiles ; And One born in a manger, Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend, And, oh ! my soul, awake ! Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither, There grows the flower of peace, The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease. Leave, then, thy foolish ranges ; For none can thee secure But One who never changes, Thy God, thy life, thy cure. 272 FUTURE STATE. THE GLANCE. George Herbert. When first Thy sweet and gracious eye Vouchsafe!, even in the midst of youth and night, To look upon me, who, before, did lie Weltering in sin : I felt a sugar'd strange delight, Passing all cordials made by any art, Bedew, embalm, and overrun my heart, And take it in. Since that time many a bitter storm My soul hath felt ; ev'n able to destroy, Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm His swing and sway. But still, Thy sweet original joy, Sprung from Thine eye, did work within my soul, And surging griefs, when they grew bold, control ; And got the day. If Thy first glance so powerful be, — A mirth but openM and seal'd up again ; What wonders shall we feel, when we shall see Thy full-eyed love ! FUTURE STATE. 273 When Thou shalt look us out of pain ; And one aspect of Thine spend in delight, More than a thousand suns disburse in light, In heaven above 1 FROM "THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL." Sir John Davies. And though some impious wits do questions move, And doubt if souls immortal be, or no ; That doubt their immortality doth prove, Because they seem immortal things to know. For he who reasons on both parts doth bring, Doth some things mortal, some immortal call ; Now, if himself were but a mortal thing, He could not judge immortal things at all. For when we judge, our minds we mirrors make ; And as those glasses which material be, Forms of material things do only take ; For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see ; 2/4 FUTURE STATE. So when we God and angels do conceive, And think of truth, which is eternal too ; Then do our minds immortal forms receive, Which, if they mortal were, they could not do. And as if beasts conceiv'd what reason were, And that conception should distinctly show, They should the name of reasonable bear ; For, without reason, none could reason know : So when the soul mounts with so high a wing, As of eternal things, she doubts can move ! She proofs of her eternity doth bring, E'en when she strives the contrary to prove. For e'en the thought of immortality, Being an act done, without the body's aid, Shows that herself alone could move and be, Although the body in the grave w'ere laid. FUTURE STATE. 275 HEAVEN IN PROSPECT. Henry Vaughan. They are all gone into a world of light, And I alone sit lingering here ; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove ; Or those faint beams in which yon hill is drest After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days ; My days which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmerings and decays. O, holy hope, and high humility, High as the heavens above ! These are your walks, and you have show'd them me To kindle my cold love. 276 FUTURE STATE. Dear beauteous Death, the jewel of the just, Shining no where but in the dark, What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust ; Could man outlook that mark! He that hath found some fledg'd bird's nest, may know At first sight if the bird be flown ; But what fair field or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet as angels, in some brighter dreams, Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep. If a bright star were prison'd in a tomb, Her captive flame must needs burn there ; But when the hand that locked her up gives room, She'll shine through all the sphere. O, Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee 1 Resume Thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty. FUTURE STATE. 277 Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My dire perspective, as they pass ; Or else remove me hence unto that hill, Where I shall need no glass. SONNET. Drummond. If with such passing beauty, choice delights, The Architect of this great round did frame This palace visible, short lists of fame, And silly mansion of but dying wights ; How many wonders, what amazing lights, Must that triumphing seat of glory claim, That doth transcend all this All's vasty heights, Of whose bright sun, ours here is but a beam ! O, blest abode ! O, happy dwelling-place ! Where visibly th' Invisible doth reign ; Blest people, which do see true Beauty's face, With whose far shadows, scarce He Earth doth deign : All joy is but annoy, all concord strife, Match'd with your endless bliss, and happy life. Bb 278 FUTURE STATE. THE SAINTS WITH JESUS. Bishop Ken. Soul, when your flesh dissolves to dust, To God's safe hands yourself entrust ; Be not too curious to enquire Where to aspire ; Whether to Paradise you fly, Or in bless'd Abram's bosom lie, Or to that orb your flight you raise Where Enoch stays. Or to the third celestial sphere, Where wonders Paul was wrapt to hear, Or Hades blest, where souls elect Full bliss expect. Secure your love while here below, And dying you'll to Jesus go : Paul longM loved Jesus' face to view, For that long you. FUTURE STATE. 279 BlessM Jesus' boundless bliss divine, In you a miniature will shine, Glory for glory, beam for beam Will on you stream. A crown, a throne on God's right hand, Where saints their robes of ray expand, Where saints are kings, and on their state High angels wait. Such blessings on the saints attend, When Jesus-like they heaven ascend, The Lamb of joys, the boundless Spring, They'll ever sing. Death our forerunner is, and guides To Sion where the Lamb abides ; There saints enjoy ecstatic rest In mansions blest. CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. THE SEVEN BEADMEN. Spenser. Eftsoon unto an holy hospital, That was foreby the way, she did him bring, In which seven beadmen, that had vowed all Their life to service of high heaven's King, Did spend their days in doing godly thing : Their gates to all were open evermore That by the weary way were travelling, And one sat waiting ever them before, To call in comers-by, that needy were and poor. The first of them that eldest was and best, Of all the house had charge and government, As guardian and steward of the rest : His office was to give entertainment CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 281 And lodging unto all that came and went ; Not unto such as could him feast again, And double quite for that he on them spent, But such as want of harbour did constrain ; Those for God's sake his duty was to entertain. The second was as alm'ner of the place : His office was the hungry for to feed, And thirsty give to drink, a work of grace : He feared not once himself to be in need, Ne cared to hoard for those whom he did breed : The grace of God he laid up still in store, Which as a stock he left unto his seed : He had enough, what need him care for more ? And had he less, yet some he would give to the poor. The third had of their wardrobe custody, In which were not rich tires nor garments gay, (The plumes of Pride and wings of Vanity) But clothes meet to keep keen cold away, And naked nature seemly to array, With which bare wretched wights he daily clad, The images of God in earthly clay ; And if that no spare clothes to give he had, His own coat he would cut, and it distribute glad. Bb3 282 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. The fourth appointed by his office was Poor prisoners to relieve with gracious aid, And captives to redeem with price of brass From Turks and Saracens, which them had staid ; And though they faulty were, yet well he weighed, That God to us forgiveth every hour Much more than that, why they in bands were laid ; And He that harrowed hell with heavy stowre, The faulty soul from thence brought to His heavenly bower. The fifth had charge sick persons to attend, And comfort those in point of death which lay ; For them most needeth comfort in the end, When sin and hell, and death, do most dismay The feeble soul departing hence away. All is but lost that living we bestow, If not well ended at our dying day. O, man ! have mind of that last bitter throe, For as the tree does fall, so lies it ever low. The sixth had charge of them now being dead, In seemly sort their corses to engrave, And deck with dainty flowers their bridal bed, That to their heavenly Spouse both sweet and brave They might appear, when He their souls shall save. CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 283 The wondrous workmanship of God's own mould, Whose face He made all beasts to fear, and gave All in his hand, even dead we honour should, Ah 1 dearest God ! me grant I dead be not defoul'd ! The seventh, now after death and burial done, Had charge the tender orphans of the dead And widows aid, lest they should be undone : In face of judgment he their right would plead, Ne aught the power of mighty men did dread In their defence, nor would for gold or fee Be won their rightful causes down to tread, And when they stood in most necessity, He did supply their want, and gave them ever free. DESCRIPTION OF A RELIGIOUS HOUSE AND CONDITION OF LIFE. Crashaw. No roof of gold, o'er riotous tables shining, Whole days and suns devour'd with endless dining ; No sails of Tyrian silk proud pavements sweeping, Nor ivory couches costlier slumbers keeping ; 284 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. False lights of flaring gems ; tumultuous joys ; Halls full of flattering men and frisking boys ; Whate'er false shows of short and slippery good Mix the mad sons of men in mutual blood. But walks and unshorn woods ; and souls, just so Unforced and genuine, but not shady tho' : Our lodgings hard and homely, as our fare, That, chaste and cheap, as the few clothes we wear ; Those coarse and negligent, as the natural locks Of those loose groves, rough as the unpolish'd rocks. A hasty portion of prescribed sleep ; Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep, And sing and sigh, and work, and sleep again ; Still rolling a round sphere, of still returning pain. Hands full of hearty labours ; pains that pay And prize themselves : do much, that more they may, And work for work, not wages ; let to-morrow's New drops wash off the sweat of this day's sorrows. A long and daily-dying life, which breathes A respiration of reviving deaths. But neither are there those ignoble stings That nip the bosom of the world's best things And lash earth-labouring souls ; No cruel guard of diligent cares, that keep Crown'd woes awake ; as things too wise for sleep ; CHAHACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 285 But reverend discipline, and religious fear, And soft obedience, find sweet biding here ; Silence, and sacred rest ; peace, and pure joys ; Kind loves keep house, lie close, and make no noise, And room enough for monarchs, while none swells Beyond the kingdoms of contentful cells. The self-remembering soul sweetly recovers Her kindred with the stars ; not basely hovers Below ; but meditates her immortal way Home to the original source of light, and intellectual day. 286 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. CONSTANCY IN VIRTUE. George Wither. Nor hath this my rare hope stood So much in her being good, (With her love to sacred things) As in her aeknowledgings, From a higher power to have them, And her love to Him who gave them. For although to have a mind Naturally to good inclined, (And to love it) would assure Reason that it might endure ; Yet (since man was first unjust) There's no warrant for such trust. Virtues that most wonder win, Would converted be to sin, If their flourishings began, From no better root than man. Our best virtues when they are, Of themselves we may compare, To the beauty of a flower, That is blasted in an hour, And, which, growing to be fuller, Turns into some loathed colour. But those being freely given, And confirmed in us by heaven, CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 287 Have a promise on them past And for evermore shall last, Diamond-like their lustre clearing More and more by use and wearing. PRESUMPTION. Giles Fletcher. Her tent with sunny clouds was ceil'd aloft, And so exceeding shone with a false light, That heaven itself to her it seemed oft, Heaven without clouds to her deluded sight, But clouds withouten heaven it was aright ; And as her house was built, so did her brain Build castles in the air, with idle pain ; But heart she never had in all her body vain. Like as a ship, in which no balance is, Without a pilot, on the sleeping waves, Fairly along with wind and water flies, And painted masts with silken sails embraves, That Neptune self the bragging vessel saves, To laugh awhile at her so proud array ; Her waving streamers loosely she lets play, And flagging colours shine as bright as smiling day : 288 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. But all so soon as heaven his brows doth bend, She vails her banners and pulls in her beams, The empty bark the raging billows send Up to th' Olympic waves, and Argus seems Again to ride upon our lower streams ; Right so, ' Presumption,' did herself behave, Tossed about with every stormy wave : And in white lawn she went, most like an angel brave. AFFLICTIONS. Southey. -If ye would know How visitations of calamity Affect the pious soul, His shown ye there ! Look yonder at yon cloud, which through the sky Sailing alone, doth cross in her career The rolling moon ! I watched it as it came And deem'd the deep opaque would blot her beams ; But melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs In folds of wavy splendour round, and clothes The orb with richer beauties than her own, Then passing leaves her in her light serene. CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 289 THE POET. Bishop Ken. Prophets and Poets were, of old, Made of the same celestial mould. True Poets are a saint-like race, And, with the gift, receive the grace, Of their own songs the virtue feel, Warmed with an heaven-enkindled zeal. A Poet should have heat and light ; Of all things a capacious sight ; Serenity with rapture joined ; Aims noble ; eloquence refined, Strong, modest ; sweetness to endear ; Expressions lively, lofty, clear. High thoughts ; an admirable theme ; For decency a chaste esteem ; Of harmony a perfect skill ; Just characters of good and ill ; And all concentered — souls to please, Instruct, inflame, melt, calm, and ease, c c 290 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. Such graces can no where be found Except on consecrated ground ; Where Poets fix on God their thought, By sacred inspiration taught ; Where each poetic votary sings, In heavenly strains of heavenly things ! THE BEE OPHRYS. S. R. They see not well who blindly deem No goodness cheers this garish world ; That all are such as many seem, In pleasure's wild dance reckless hurPd ; A glittering sight, but worthless race, Still sick at heart, though blithe of face. I would not to proud city go Of choice, nor to the glittering court, For beauteous characters, that grow Most plentiful where few resort : Yet here and there true hearts are traced, In these, like springs in sandy waste. CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 291 Such dreams were passing in my mind, As o'er the chalky slope I strayed, Where my long-practised eye would find Some flowery treasure oft, conveyed By viewless hands, and nourished there One knows not by what unseen care. There amid many weeds I see, Strange offspring of such hopeless soil, That curious plant, the Ophrys Bee ; — In truth, "they neither spin nor toil, Yet prince, in robe or diadem, Was ne'er array'd like one of them." That mimic form and pencill'd dress Bespake in ready phrase its name ; But phrase of man could ne'er express The wondrous light that with it came : O skill and goodness, passing thought, — A weed thus exquisitely wrought 1 'Tis even so, I said, — the Hand Which paints so choicely nature's child, Oft wills that brightest flowers expand And smile upon this base world's wild ; And happiest spirits doubtless hide, Where all is barrenness beside. 292 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. INNOCENCE. -She was innocent ! S. T. Coleridge. And to be innocent is nature's wisdom ! The fledge-dove knows the prowlers of the air, Feared soon as seen, and flutters back to shelter. And the young steed recoils upon his haunches, The never-yet-seen adder's hiss first heard. O, surer than suspicion's hundred eyes Is that fine sense, which to the pure in heart, By mere oppugnancy of their own goodness, Reveals the approach of evil. CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 293 THE FIELD OF BATTLE (WATERLOO.) Southey. Look, how upon the ocean's treacherous face The breeze and summer sunshine softly play, And the green-heaving billows bear no trace Of all the wrath and wreck of yesterday ; So from the field which here we looked upon, The vestiges of dreadful war were gone. Earth had received into her silent womb Her slaughtered creatures ; horse and man they lay, And friend and foe, within the general tomb. Equal had been their lot ; one fatal day For all, — one labour, — and one place of rest They found, within their common parent's breast. The passing seasons had not yet effaced The stamp of numerous hoofs impressed by force Of cavalry, whose path might still be traced, Yet nature every where resumed her course ; Low Pansies to the sun their purple gave, And the soft Poppy blossomed on the grave. • • * • « c c 3 294 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. No cloud the azure vault of heaven distained, That day when we the field of war surveyed ; The leaves were falling, but the groves retained Foliage enough for beauty and for shade ; Soft airs prevailed, and through the sunny hours The Bees were busy on the year's last flowers. Well was the season with the scene combined, The autumnal sunshine suited well the mood Which here possessed the meditative mind ; — A human sense upon the field of blood, A Christian thankfulness, a British pride Tempered by solemn thoughts, yet still to joy allied. DRABA VERNA, THE EARLIEST BRITISH FLOWER. S. R. Thou simplest among flowers that live, Thriving where nought but thou could thrive, Dressing the most neglected spot ; — How cheering, Draba, is thy lot, To live in meekest beauty bright, In gloomiest time a joyous sight ! CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 295 Full many a year I've noted thee, In that cold bed of Poverty, Upon the ancient church -wall grey, Catching in winter some mild day To spread, ere frost and snow were gone, Thy small bold flow'ret to the sun, Waking to sight life's earliest show, While all thy sisters slept below. E'en now so keen the east-wind blows, It chills the hardiest first Primrose ; Yon Violet bud, last autumn bred, Peep'd but a little, and is dead ; The Crocus spath hath burst the soil, Yet cautiously she waits awhile ; And frozen hangs the Snowdrop cup, Her green-streaked lawn close mantled up ; But this small flower is out and gay, Though winter turn'd but yesterday ; And she, the lowliest of Spring's train, Is first to bid her come again. There is a ready cheerfulness That simplest hearts doth ever bless ; They reck the least of darksome day, And bear it still the best they may. They pride them not, to dare the blast, But hold by their own dwelling fast 296 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. In humblest wise ; there unsubdued, They calmly wait vicissitude, In patience and in faith complete. But soon as such dark seasons fleet, The first are these to tell glad news, And round about their joy diffuse In such true sort, the wise must guess Where ever dwells most Happiness. Wordsworth. I do not wish to wrong him ; — though the course Of private life, licentiously displayed Unhallow'd actions — planted like a crown Upon the insolent aspiring brow Of spurious notions — worn as open signs Of prejudice subdued — he still retain'd, 'Mid such abasement, what he had received From nature, — an intense and glowing mind. Wherefore when humbled Liberty grew weak, And mortal sickness on her face appear'd, CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 297 He colour'd objects to his own desire As with a Lover's passion. Yet his moods Of pain were keen as those of better men, Nay, keener — as his fortitude was less. And he continued, when worse days were come, To deal about his sparkling eloquence, Struggling against the strange reverse with zeal That show'd like happiness ; but in despite Of all this outside bravery, within, He neither felt encouragement nor hope. For moral dignity and strength of mind, Were wanting ; and simplicity of life ; And reverence for himself ; and, last and best, Confiding thoughts, through love and fear of Him Before whose sight the troubles of this world Are vain as billows in a tossing sea. BOUGHTON MALHERBE. S.B. Embosomed in her depths of wood, Here in old splendour Bocton stood : 298 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. With other beauties than of yore, Now thou art known, lone spot, no more ! A herdsman's hovel stands to tell Where thy baronial turrets fell ; Thy trim court-yard, neglected now, Is furrowed by the rusting plough ; And trembling rooms of antique state Frown o'er the rustic and his mate. Few doddered stumps and pollard trees Mark the slant lawn ; and still one sees A tangled thicket, park no more, That feeds of sheep some lazy score, Which bleating browse, or dreaming lie, Where antlered herds once bounded by. Old knightly style is all forgot Since Wooton's famous house was not ; A crumbling stone, seen here and there, Just tells indeed that once they were, But, like the ruins of the pile, Will tell that tale but little while. 'Tis even so the pomp of men Doth pass, and cometh not again ! The good, the gallant, pass away, And name and splendour, where are they ? The work of taste, the seat of power, Live like their lords one little hour, — CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. 299 The very spot, where they were seen, Then knows no more that they have been ! E'en sweetest flower of chivalry Like other flowers must bloom and die ; But hero scarce is in his tomb, And dull cold spirits fill his room. Yet 'mid this wreck, where ruin reigns, One beauteous relic still remains ; The quiet, simple, ancient church, With cherished graves and dialled porch, Where erst the village sires would bow, Receives their sons to worship now. And still where sleep those fathers dead, We see that ample prospect spread, Which long as ages come and go, In bright magnificence below, Weekly before the house of prayer, Holds crowds of rustics wondering there. Stablest of passing things below, Such fair scenes stay as loath to go ; The vale, the hills, the sweeping view, We see what men of old once knew ; And while art's proudest works are gone, Nature to them and us is one. And, — witness that grey reverend Tower, — Religion hath a mightier power, 300 CHARACTERS AND DESCRIPTIONS. Itself eternal, sure it can Eternalize the works of man ; And bids them tell how staid shall be, Souls simply built on Piety. MEMORIALS. ON A MONUMENT IN LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL. 7- This cannot be the sleep of death, Or sure it must be sweet to die, So soft, this holy roof beneath, On such a quiet couch to lie ; Each gently pressing, gently prest, To slumber in each other's arms, This shrinking to her sister's breast, For shelter from all earth's alarms ; Dd 302 MEMORIALS. With such entire and perfect trust, That e'en in sleep she seems to say, " I shall rest safe, I know I must, My Ellen holds me night and day." The other, with maturer grace, In dawn of thoughtful womanhood, Half upward turns her fair meek face, As if an angel o'er her stood. As calm her brow, as sure her faith, But more than infants use, she knew (If right I guess) of life and death, Of death, and resurrection too. Already now her ear began The depth of solemn sound to trace, The thrilling joys that round her ran, When music filled this holy place. Yon dark arch'd galleries, high aloof, The glory and the mystery Of " long-drawn aisle" and vaulted roof, Already caught her wondering eye. MEMORIALS. 303 And she would gaze, when morning's glow Through yonder glorious panes was streaming, As if in every niche below Saints in their glory robes were gleaming. To thee, dear maid, each kindly wile Was known that elder sisters know : To check th' unseasonable smile With warning hand and serious brow : From dream to dream with her to rove, Like faery nurse with hermit child, Teach her to think, to pray, to love, Make grief less bitter, joy less wild : These were thy tasks ; and who can say What visions high, what solemn talk, What flashes of unearthly day, Might bless those infants' evening walk, Oft as with arms and hearts entwined, They mused aloud, this twilight hour, What awful truths high God hath shrined In every star and cloud and flower ! 304 MEMORIALS. But one day, when the glorious theme Seemed but to mock their feeble sight, As they looked up from earth's dark dream To worlds where all is pure and bright, Strong in the strength of infancy, In little children's wisdom wise, They heard a voice say " Come to Me ; Yours is the kingdom of the skies." They speed them home, one prayer they breathe, Then down in peace together lie This cannot be the sleep of death, Or sure it must be sweet to die. MEMORIALS. 305 ICI GIST. Pale was thy cheek, though it was fair As spring flowers are ! — But in mine ear A hollow voice is murmuring near, " Thy shroud is yet more pale !" He that looked on thee loved to trace Thine eye's dark grace. — But o'er the cell, That holds thy mouldering relics well, Death spreads a darker veil 1 So be it, if the age to come Dispel the gloom ! Beloved ! if thou Crown'd with the flowers earth cannot show, The eternal day spring hail ! Dd3 306 MEMORIALS. AN EPITAPH UPON THE LADY ELIZABETH, SECOND DAUGHTER OF HIS LATE MAJESTY (KING CHARLES I.) Heiiry Vaughan. Youth, Beauty, Virtue, Innocence, Heaven's royal and select expense, With virgin-tears, and sighs divine, Sit here the Genii of this shrine, Where now (thy fair soul wing'd away,) They guard the Casket where she lay. Thou hadst, ere thou the light couldst see, Sorrows laid up and stor'd for thee, Thou suck'dst in woes, and the breasts lent Their milk to thee, but to lament ; Thy portion here was grief, thy years Distill'd no other rain but tears, Tears without noise, but (understood) As loud and shrill as any blood ; Thou seem'dst a Rosebud born in Snow, A flower of purpose sprung to bow To headless tempests, and the rage Of an incensed, stormy age : Others, ere their afflictions grow, Are timed and seasoned for the blow, MEMORIALS. 307 But thine, as rhumes the tenderest part, Fell on a young and harmless heart. And yet as balm trees gently spend Their tears for those that do them rend, So mild and pious thou wert seen, Though full of sufferings, free from spleen, Thou didst not murmur, nor revile, But drank'st thy wormwood with a smile. As envious eyes blast and infect, And cause misfortunes by aspect, So thy sad stars dispensed to thee No influence but calamity, They view'd thee with eclipsed rays, And but the backside of bright days. These were the comforts she had here, As by an unseen hand 'tis clear, Which now she reads, and smiling wears A crown with Him who wipes off tears. 308 MEMORIALS. OF MY DEAR SON GERVASE BEAUMONT. Sir J. Beaumont. Can I, who have for others oft compil'd The songs of death, forget my sweetest child, Which, like a flower crush'd with a blast, is dead, And ere full time, hangs down his smiling head, Expecting with clear hope to live anew, Among the angels fed with heavenly dew ? We have this sign of joy, that many days, While on the earth his struggling spirit stays, The name of Jesus in his mouth contains His only food, his sleep, his ease from pains. O, may that sound be rooted in my mind, Of which in him such strong effect I find. Dear Lord, receive my son, whose winning love To me was like a friendship, far above The course of nature, or his tender age, Whose looks could all my bitter griefs assuage ; Let his pure soul, ordain'd seven years to be In that frail body, which was part of me, Remain my pledge in Heaven, as sent to show, How to this port at every step I go. MEMORIALS. 309 AN EPITAPH ON A DECEASED FRIEND. John Cleveland. Here lies the ruin'd cabinet Of a rich soul more highly set. The dross and refuse of a mind Too glorious to be here confin'd. Earth for awhile bespoke his stay, Only to bait, and so away : So that what here he doted on Was merely accommodation ; Not that his active soul could be At home, but in eternity. Yet while he blest us with the rays Of his short-continued days, Each minute had its weight of worth, Each pregnant hour some star brought forth. So whiles he travelled here beneath, He liv'd, when others only breathe. For not a sand of time slipp'd by Without its action sweet as high. So good, so peaceable, so blest, Angels alone can speak the rest. 310 MEMORIALS. EPITAPH IN WORCESTER CATHEDRAL. Rev, John Davison. If heavenly flowers might bloom unharm'd on earth, And gales of Eden still their balm bestow, Thy gentle virtues rich in purest worth Might yet have lingered in our vale below ; Lov'd daughter, sister, friend : — we saw awhile Thy meek ey'd modesty which lov'd the shade, Thy faithfulness which knew nor change, nor guile, Thy heart, like incense, on God's Altar laid. But He whose Spirit breathes the air Divine, That gives to souls their loveliness and grace, Soonest, embowers pure faithful hearts like thine In His own Paradise, their blissful place. EPITAPH. Rev. G. Wheeler. For thee, loved youth, no stranger's tears we crave, We ask no stranger to approach thy grave, Thou hast enough to mourn thee — those who knew, And fondly watched thy virtues as they grew : MEMORIALS. 311 They to the spot where now those virtues sleep Will turn unbidden and unbidden weep : Will turn and muse, till all that is, shall seem The transient wonder of some airy dream ; Till on the past the future shall arise, And faith restore thee to their longing eyes. SONNET. Rev. G. Wheeler. Have I forgot thee ? fresh as on that day When to thy lips the mystic cup I bore, And we beheld thy breathing form no more, Thy Image, subject there to no decay, Still lives within this bosom, and for aye Shall live till Memory die with all her lore. I have suffer'd much, my Mother ! but 'tis o'er, Why should we droop, Omnipotence our stay ? Oh, how delightful in a world like ours To think of those at rest, to hope ere long That we may join them ! Haste, ye lagging hours, And take me from this rude and selfish throng, Take me where bloom Love's own undying flowers, Where swells around the Throne Love's own trium- phant song ! 312 MEMORIALS. EPITAPH ON A STONE MASON. S. R. The stones men hew and build with, must In few short years, go back to dust ; But their own dust which here we lay, Shall rise ere long, and stand for aye : Be wise, ye builders, then ; build well That house you raise for heaven or hell. EPITAPH ON AN OLD LADY, BURIED IN HENDEN CHURCHYARD, MIDDLESEX. Anonymous. Reader, she wandered all this desert through, In search of happiness, nor found repose 'Till she had reach'd the borders of the waste. Full many a flower that blossom'd in her path She stopt to gather ; and the fruit she plucked That hung from many a tempting bough, all but The rose of Sharon, and the tree of Life. This flung its fragrance to the gale, and spread MEMORIALS. 313 Its blushing beauties ; that its healing leaves Displayed, and fruit immortal — all in vain. She neither tasted nor admired, and found All that she chose and tasted, fair — but false ; The flowers no sooner gathered, than they faded ; The fruits enchanting — dust and bitterness ; And all the world a wilderness of care. Wearied, dispirited, and at the close Of this eventful course, she sought the plant, Which long her heedless haste o'erlook'd, and proved Its sovereign virtues ; underneath its shade Outstretched, drew from her wounded feet the thorn, Breathed the last sigh, shed the last tear, and here The aged pilgrim rests in trembling hope. 314 MEMORIALS. Rev. H. Alford. There is an ancient man who dwells Within our parish bounds, Beyond the poplar avenue, Across two meadow-grounds : And whensoe'er our two small bells To church call merrily, Leaning upon our churchyard gate This old man you may see. He is a man of many thoughts, That long have found their rest, Each in its proper dwelling-place, Settled within his breast : A form erect, a stately brow, A set and measured mien, The satisfied unroving look Of one who much hath seen. And once, when young in care of souls, I watch'd a sick man's bed, And willing half, and half asham'd, Lingered and nothing said : MEMORIALS. 315 That ancient man, in accents mild, Removed my shame away ; — " Listen," he said, "the Minister Prepares to kneel and pray." These lines of humble thankfulness Will never meet his eye : Unknown that old man means to live, And unremembered die. The forms of life have severed us — But when that life shall end, Fain would I hail that reverend man A Father and a Friend. DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN. George Sandys. Thy beauty, Israel, is fled ; Sunk to the dead. How are the valiant fall'n ! the slain Thy mountains stain. O let it not in Gath be known ; Nor in the streets of Askalon ! 316 MEMORIALS. Lest that sad story should excite Their dire delight : Lest in the torrent of our woe Their pleasure flow : Lest their triumphant daughters ring Their cymbals, and curs'd Poeans sing. You hills of Gilboa, never may You offerings pay ; No morning dew, nor fruitful showers Clothe you with flowers : Saul and his arms, there made a spoil ; As if untouched with sacred oil. The bow of noble Jonathan Great battles won : His arrows on the mighty fed, With slaughter red. Saul never raised his arm in vain ; His sword still glutted with the slain. How lovely ! O, how pleasant ! when They lived with men ! Than eagles swifter ; stronger far Than lions are : Whom love in life so strongly tied, The stroke of death could not divide. MEMORIALS. 317 Sad Israel's daughters, weep for Saul ; Lament his fall : Who fed you with the earth's increase, And crown'd with peace : With robes of Tyrian purple deck'd, And gems which sparkling light reflect. How are thy worthies by the sword Of war devour'd ! O, Jonathan, the better part Of my torn heart ! The savage rocks have drunk thy blood : My brother ! O, how kind ! how good ! Thy love was great : O never more To man, man bore ! No woman, when most passionate, Loved at that rate. How are the mighty fall'n in fight ! They and their glory set in night ! e e 3 318 MEMORIALS. WRITTEN IN HIS LIBRARY. Southey. My days among the dead are past ; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old : My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. With them I take delight in weal, And seek relief in woe ; And while I understand and feel How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedewed With tears of thoughtful gratitude. My thoughts are with the dead ; with them 1 live in long past years ; Their virtues love, their faults condemn, Partake their hopes and fears ; And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with a humble mind. MEMORIALS. 319 My hopes are with the dead ; anon My place with them will be, And with them I shall travel on Through all futurity ; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust. Thoughts in Past Years. Others admire in thee a poet's fire, So sweetly temper'd to a classic lyre ; Others, how deepest thought and wise design Put on harmonious beauty in each line ; Others, how thy sweet urn of sacred glee Lights earthly things with heavenly clarity ; Others, how every turn and winding scene Leads to a temple, in the blue serene. One would to thy meek willow's lesson turn, One melodies of mountain streamlet learn, One loves thy red November's calm decay, One the bright lengthening of thine April day. 320 MEMOHIALS. One with thee enters in the home divine, To worship there, but not to praise thy shrine. 'Tis sweet to note in varying character How each his bosom'd thoughts finds pictured there. And some condemn thee as too deep a mine, "Where haply diamonds hid and rubies shine, But they upon the surface love to flit, — 'Twere diving into Pindar's golden wit ! But these things other thoughts to me endear, Thy book I love because thyself is there. And all I know of glad philosophy, And all I know of life's home poesy — And all I know of calm and healthful thought, And all of better wisdom heaven hath taught — And all that I have seen of azure sky, Brought forth from out a deep captivity — And all which through the clouds of sin and grief Have shed o'er life a light of sweet relief — And all that I have known of cheering glow, That glares not, but lights up our hearth below — And all I have of friends more dear than life, Calming with gentler wisdom this world's strife, (So it hath pleased Heaven who gave the same,) These all to me are linked with thy dear name. MEMORIALS. 321 Through thee, whate'er through broken clouds hath gleam'd, Through thee from heaven these beams on me have streanTd. Therefore when others talk yet am I still, For deeper thoughts than theirs my bosom fill. TO THE MEMORY OF A GOOD POOR WOMAN. Rev. John Davison. Patient devoted servant of her God, The heavenward path this humble woman trod ; Beheld a jarring world, and shunn'd its strife, Reproving only by her peaceful life. The book of Truth she ponder'd line by line, In memory stor'd its oracles divine : The Holy Table by her Saviour spread Daily she sought, to taste of Angels' bread. Rich in content with piety her gain, And still devout when tried by torturing pain. To Him who gave resigning her calm breath, In meek tranquillity she sunk to death ; And now life's trial done, her sleeping dust Awaits the glorious rising of the just. 322 MEMORIALS. SIR HENRY WOOTON. 'Twas once on this neglected spot, Where still we tread on flowers run wild ; His tasks in fancy's dreams forgot, Sir Henry played — a blissful child : And here as thoughtful years came on, To scenes of early peace he fled ; To soothe in wanderings sweet and lone, A harassed mind and fevered head. Here too full oft in drooping years, When nature told her solemn close, Sweetly he calmed his dying fears, And joyed in piety's repose : Then much he spake of cheerful days, How many 'twas his lot to have ; But most, how blest religion's ways Cheered all his journey to the grave. And his had been a favoured course — A path with many a garland strowed ; For well he braved this rough world's force, And when it smiled, still thought on God : MEMORIALS. 323 Like some light skiff upon the wave, All beauty, in a tranquil sea ; Yet when the billows work and rave, Mounts o'er the breakers gallantly. So each good man, whose heart is light When early suns life's morn illume, Frets least when day doth set in night, Nor darkens much with nature's gloom ; For heaven first put that light within Which shone from out his honest breast ; His conscience parleys not with sin, And therefore 'tis he is so blest. INDEX. A churchyard with a cloister running round . A shady seat by some cool mossy spring . Again, O Lord, I ope mine eyes Again the morning's brightness calls Ah ! what time wilt Thou come ? when shall that cry Page 226 94 189 185 247 7 And is it even thus ? Are these the words And though some impious wits do questions move 273 119 269 28 112 241 182 And while the face of outward things we find Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee As men from men .... As o'er the past my memory strays . As withereth the primrose by the river Awake, my soul ! awake, mine eyes ! Because the world might not pretend Behold, we come, dear Lord, to Thee Believe not that your inner eye But how should we be glad ? But know we not that he, who intermits But that Thou art my wisdom, Lord But with no sense the garden does comply By laughing hours and broidered meads, Ff . 109 . 181 . 172 . 127 . 66 . 137 . 19 . 12 INDEX. Page Can I, who have for others oft compil'd . . 308 Christ, health of fevered soul, heaven of the mind 111 Cloth'd with state, and girt with might . . 200 Cloud ! or mist ! or exhalation ! ... 4 Come, twinkle in my lonely room . . .87 Could this outside beholden be ... 139 Day of wrath ! that awful day . . .114 Eftsoon unto an holy hospital . . . 280 Embosomed in her depths of wood . . . 297 Ere God on Sodom stretch 'd His flaming hand . 52 Ere sin hath brush'd away the morning bloom . 236 Eternal Mover, whose diffused glory . .122 Ethereal minstrel ! Pilgrim of the sky . .11 Fain would my thoughts fly up to Thee . . 36 Fear, anger, hope, fierce vengeance, rabid hate 153 For many books I care not, and my store . 72 For thee, loved youth, no stranger's tears we crave . 310 Free choice doth man possess of good or ill . 38 God of our fathers ! who in this our land . . 89 Great God, whose sceptre rules the earth . 221 Grieve not, dear love, although we often part . 132 Hail, thou most sacred venerable thing . . 215 Happy those early days when I . . .144 Page Have I forgot thee ? fresh as on that day . 311 Her tent with sunny clouds was ceil'd aloft . 287 Here is the spring where waters flow . . 168 Here lies the ruin'd cabinet .... 309 High on the stately wall 52 His eye toward the promised land . . . 254 How beautiful this dome of sky . . . 174 How happy is he born or taught . . .60 How should I praise Thee, Lord ! how should my rhymes 196 I do not care to be inquisitive . . . .67 I do not wish to wrong him through the course 296 I dwell in Grace's court 165 I have found Peace in the bright earth . . 80 I love (and have some cause to love) the earth . 224 I made a posy, while the day ran by . . 238 I met a fairy child, whose golden hair . .18 I sought for novelty in vain . . . .231 I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd . 100 I would I were an excellent Divine . . .75 If heavenly flowers might bloom unharmed on earth 310 If with such passing beauty, choice delights . 277 If ye would know 288 In childhood when with eager eyes . . 245 In health and joy God's word we hear . . 147 In lonesome cave 227 INDEX. t r» Page In my Religion, I dare entertain . .85 In three days' time, when I am dead . . 262 It must be done, my soul, but 'tis a strange . 267 It was the time when the still moon . . 53 Jerusalem, that place divine . . . .93 Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom . 43 Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust . 66 Like to the falling of a star .... 242 Lo, here ! a little volume, but great book . 178 Long have I view'd, long have I thought .118 Look, how upon the ocean's treacherous face . 293 Lord Jesus, when, when shall it be . . . 252 Lord, in this dust Thy sovereign voice . . 45 Lord, should we oft forget to sing . .191 Lord, what is man, why should he cost Thee . 218 Lord, what unvalued pleasures crown'd . .198 Lord, who shall dwell above with Thee . .141 " Man goeth forth" with reckless trust . . 32 Man is a busy thing, and he . ... 146 Man's best estate is poor and vain . . .40 Many are the ways I see . . . .150 Methought I saw, 'tween walls of deep decay . 89 My days among the dead are past . . .318 My friend ! enough to sorrow you have given . 136 My God, now I from sleep awake . . .193 Page My mother, in God's Holy Word . . . 232 My Saxon shrine ! the only ground . . . 104 My soul, there is a country . . . .271 New doth the sun appear . . . .12 No roof of gold, o'er riotous tables shining . 283 Nor hath this my rare hope stood . . . 286 Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul . 250 O, ignorant poor man ! what dost thou bear . 170 O Lordj Thy presence is revealed . . . 157 O, merciful Creator, hear .... 108 O, Thou who all things hast of nothing made . 210 O, Thou who sweetly bend'st my stubborn will . 132 O, Thou whose all-enlivening ray . . . 123 Of things unseen how canst thou deem aright . 48 On this day of highest worth .... 188 One adequate support . . . . .39 Others admire in thee a poet's fire . . .319 Pale was thy cheek, though it was fair . . 305 Patient devoted servant of her God . . . 321 Poor silly soul, whose hope and head lies low . 113 Prophets and Poets were of old . . . 289 Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control . 65 Quite lost are now mine airy joys . . . 135 Reader, she wandered all this desert through . 312 f f 3 Page Sacred Religion ! Mother of form and fear ! . 86 Saviour of mankind, man, Emmanuel . . 202 Say not these flowers will quickly fade . . 27 Scenes so awful 67 Scoff ye who will ! but let me, gracious Heaven 209 She was innocent 292 Sleep ! downy sleep! come, close mine eyes . 183 Soar then (my soul) above the arched round . 159 Some murmur when their sky is clear . . 205 Soul, when your flesh dissolves to dust . . 278 Still young and fine ! but what is still in view . 1 Stoop down until you thoroughly see . . 159 Strange thing it is an errant knight to see . 150 Sweet bird ! up earliest in the morn . . 129 Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours . 213 Sweet stream, where most my haunts delight . 25 Tax not the royal saint with vain expense . 103 Teach me, my God and King . . .160 Tell me, O great all -knowing God ! . . 256 The child alone in trembling goes . . 44 The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended . .199 The glories of our blood and state . . . 240 The Master saith, " Wise in their generation . 68 The night is come ; like to the day . . . 203 The path is narrow and it narrows still . . 24 The Saints of old are rather said . . . 249 The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er . 263 The star of Light has risen now The stones men hew and build with must The sturdy rock for all his strength The tiny flowers that cowered beneath The voice which I did more esteem Then, man, pray and obtain ; believe and There is a spot beside a hill There is an ancient man who dwells These hairs of age are messengers They are all gone into a world of light This cannot be the sleep of death This lesson, all ye nations, hear Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident Thou inevitable day Throw away Thy rod Thy beauty, Israel, is fled Thy glorious throne is, Lord, on high Time is the feathered thing Time was, I shrank from what was right, To leave unseen so many a glorious sight ' i was once on this neglected spot have Page 184 312 244 97 126 151 259 314 . 74 275 301 81 45 , 264 , 50 315 142 , 242 73 , 72 , 322 Wake now, my soul, and humbly hear . .15 We live not in our moments or our years . 62 Welcome, dear feast of Lent : who loves not thee 95 What do they say ? those forest trees . . 22 What is house and what is home . . .77 What makes the calm and healthful mind . 162 Page What man is he that boasts of fleshly might . 154 Whene'er goes forth Thy dread command . 261 When first Thy sweet and gracious eye . . 272 When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave . 57 When God at first made man . . . .42 When I survey the bright .... 2 Whence is it that amaz'd I hear . . .16 Who is the honest man ? .... 59 Why dost thou heap up wealth which thou must quit 62 W T hy do we seek felicity . . . .155 Why sittest thou on that sea-girt rock . . 70 W T hy, worldlings, do ye trust frail honour's dreams 269 Ye powers of darkness, 'tis your hour . . 125 You that have spent the silent night . . 206 You who dwell above the skies . . . 201 Youth, beauty, virtue, innocence . . . 306 Henry Mozley and Sons, Printers, Derby.