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VERSES 
 
 ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 
 
 IpJULJrrnasrt/j jMi^ m^u 
 
 " cui pauca relicti 
 Jugera ruris erat; nee fertilis ilia juvencis 
 Nee pecori oppc-rtuna seges, nee commoda Baccho. 
 Hie rarum tarnen in dumis olus, albaque circum 
 Lilia, verbenasque premens, vescumque papaver, 
 Regum sequabat opes animis.**;' 
 
 IContron : 
 BURNS, OATES, & CO., 
 
 17 & 18, PORTMAN STREET, AND 63, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 MDCCCLXVI1I. 
 
 ^Ji^^kthef^ Vfo&fy 
 
? 
 
 
 LONDON.' 
 
 gilbert and rivington, printers, 
 st. John's square. 
 
 96 
 
 JAN 2 :345 
 
 Serial Record Division 
 
 The Library of Congress 
 
 Copy. 
 
 • ■ • 
 
>1 
 
 
 
 ■ , ' - 
 
 TO EDWAKD BADELEY, ESQ. 
 
 V 
 
 My dear Badeley, 
 
 I have not been without apprehension 
 lest, in dedicating to you a number of poetical 
 compositions, I should hardly be making a suitable 
 offering to a member of a grave profession, which 
 is especially employed in rubbing off the gloss with 
 which imagination and sentiment invest matters 
 of every-day life, and in reducing statements of 
 fact to their legitimate dimensions. And, besides 
 this, misgivings have not unnaturally come over 
 me on the previous question ; viz., whether, after all, 
 the contents of the volume are of sufficient import- 
 ance to make it an acceptable offering to any friend 
 whatever. 
 
 And I must frankly confess, as to the latter 
 difficulty, that certainly it never would have 
 occurred to me thus formally to bring together 
 
 it <TY -1 l\ ■ i \ 
 
IV DEDICATION. 
 
 into one effusions which I have ever considered 
 ephemeral, had I not lately found from publications 
 of the day, what I never suspected before, that 
 there are critics, and they strangers to me, who 
 think well both of some of my compositions and 
 of my power of composing. It is this commenda- 
 tion, bestowed on me to my surprise as well as 
 to my gratification, which has encouraged me just 
 now to republish what I have from time to time 
 written ; and if, in doing so, I shall be found, as is 
 not unlikely, to have formed a volume of unequal 
 merit, my excuse must be, that I despair of dis- 
 covering any standard by which to discriminate 
 aright between one poetical attempt and another. 
 Accordingly, I am thrown, from the nature of the 
 case, whether I will or no, upon my own judgment ; 
 which, biassed by the associations of memory and 
 by personal feelings, and measuring, perhaps, by 
 the pleasure of verse-making, the worth of the 
 verse, is disposed either to preserve them all, or to 
 put them all aside. 
 
 Here another contrast presents itself between 
 the poetical art and the science of law. Your 
 profession has its definitive authorities, its prescrip- 
 tions, its precedents, and its principles, by which 
 to determine the claim of its authors on public 
 
DEDICATION. Y 
 
 attention ; but what philosopher will undertake to 
 rule matters of taste, or to bring under one idea 
 or method poems so different from each other as 
 those of Homer, iEschylus, and Pindar ; of Terence, 
 Ovid, Juvenal, and Martial ? What court is sitting, 
 and what code is received, for the satisfactory 
 determination of the poetical pretensions of writers 
 of the day ? Whence can we hope to gain a 
 verdict upon them, except from the unscientific 
 tribunals of Public Opinion and of Time ? In 
 Poetry, as in Metaphysics, a book is of necessity a 
 venture. 
 
 And now, coming to the suitableness of my 
 offering, I know well, my dear Badeley, how little 
 you will be disposed to criticize what comes to you 
 from me, whatever be its intrinsic value. Less still 
 in this case, considering that a chief portion of the 
 volume grew out of that Religious Movement 
 which you yourself, as well as I, so faithfully 
 followed from first to last. And least of all, when 
 I tell you that I wish it to be the poor expression, 
 long-delayed, of my gratitude, never intermitted, 
 for the great services which you rendered to me 
 years ago, by your legal skill and affectionate zeal, 
 in a serious matter in which I found myself in 
 collision with the law of the land. Those services 
 
VI DEDICATION. 
 
 I have ever desired in some public, however in- 
 adequate, way to record ; and now, as time hurries 
 on and opportunities are few, I am forced to ask 
 you to let me acknowledge my debt to you as I can, 
 since I cannot as I would. 
 
 "We are now, both of us, in the decline of life : 
 may that warm attachment which has lasted 
 between us inviolate for so many years, be con- 
 tinued, by the mercy of God, to the end of our 
 earthly course, and beyond it ! 
 
 I am, my dear Badeley, 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 J. H. N. 
 The Oratory, 
 
 December 21,1867. ' ^ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 PAQE 
 
 I. Paraphrase of Isaiah, ch. lxiv. ... 1 
 
 II. To F. W. N. on his Birthday 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 ill. Nature and Art 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 IT. Introduction to an Album 
 
 
 
 
 . 12 
 
 v. Snapdragon . 
 
 
 
 
 . 13 
 
 VI. The Trance of Time 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 vii. Consolations in Bereavement 
 
 
 
 
 . 18 
 
 VIII. A Picture 
 
 
 
 
 . 21 
 
 ix. Opusculum 
 
 
 
 
 . 25 
 
 x. A Voice from afar . 
 
 
 
 
 . 27 
 
 XI. The Hidden Ones . 
 
 
 
 
 . 29 
 
 XII. A Thanksgiving 
 
 
 
 
 . 32 
 
 xiii. Monks .... 
 
 
 
 
 . 35 
 
 xiv. Epiphany-eve 
 
 
 
 
 . 39 
 
 XV. The Winter Flower 
 
 
 
 
 . 43 
 
 xvi. Kind Remembrances 
 
 
 
 
 . 44 
 
 xvn. Seeds in the Air 
 
 
 
 
 . 46 
 
 xviii. The Pilgrim .... 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 xix. Home ..... 
 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 xx. The Brand of Cain 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 xxi. Zeal and Love 
 xxn. Persecution . 
 xxiii. Zeal and Purity . 
 xxiy. The Gift of Perseverance 
 xxy. The Sign of the Cross 
 xxyi. The Scars of Sin . 
 xxvii. Angelic Guidance . 
 xxviii. Substance and Shadow . 
 xxix. Wanderings 
 xxx. The Saint and the Hero 
 xxxi. Private Judgment 
 xxxii. The Isles of the Sirens 
 xxxiii. Memory 
 xxxiv. The Haven . 
 xxxv. A Word in Season 
 xxxvi. Fair Words 
 xxxvu. England 
 xxxviii. Moses 
 xxxix. The Patient Church 
 XL. Jeremias 
 xli. Penance 
 xlii. The Course of Truth 
 XLin. Christmas without Christ 
 xliv. Sleeplessness 
 xlv. Abraham 
 xlvi. The Greek Fathers 
 xlvii. The Witness 
 xlviii. The Death of Moses 
 xlix. Melchizedek 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 L. Corcyra 
 li. Transfiguration 
 lii. Behind the Veil 
 Lin. Judgment . 
 uv. Sensitiveness 
 lt. David and Jonathan 
 lyi. Humiliation 
 lyii. The Call of David 
 iviii. A Blight . 
 lix. Joseph 
 lx. Isaac 
 lxi. Reverses . 
 lxii. Hope 
 ixin. St. Paul at Melita 
 lxiv. Messina 
 lxv. Warnings . 
 lxvi. Dreams 
 lxyii. Temptation 
 lxyiii. Our Future 
 lxix. Heathenism 
 lxx. Taormini . 
 lxxi. Relics of Saints 
 lxxii. Day-labourers 
 lxxiii. Warfare 
 lxxiy. Sacrilege . 
 lxxv. Liberalism 
 ixxyi. Declension . 
 lxxvii. The Age to Come 
 lxxyiii. External Religion 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 LXXXIY. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 LXXXYII. 
 
 LXXXYIII. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 XC. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 c. 
 
 CI. 
 CII. 
 
 cm. 
 
 CIV. 
 
 cv. 
 
 CYI. 
 CVII. 
 
 St. Gregory Nazianzen 
 
 The Good Samaritan . 
 
 The Pillar of the Cloud 
 
 Jonas 
 
 Faith against Sight 
 
 Desolation . 
 
 Zeal and Patience 
 
 The Eeligion of Cain 
 
 St. Paul . 
 
 Flowers without Fruit 
 
 Zeal and Meekness 
 
 Vexations . 
 
 The Church in Prayer 
 
 The Wrath to Come 
 
 Pusillanimity 
 
 James and John 
 
 Hora Novissima 
 
 Progress of Unbelief 
 
 Consolation 
 
 Uzzah and Ohed-Edom 
 
 The Gift of Tongues 
 
 The Power of Prayer 
 
 Semita Justorum 
 
 The Elements 
 
 Apostasy 
 
 Judaism 
 
 The Priestly Office 
 
 Morning 
 
 Evening 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 AH 
 
 Brmitage 
 
 . 
 
 CIX. 
 
 The Married and the Single 
 
 ex. 
 
 Intercession of the Saints . 
 
 CXI. 
 
 Refrigerium 
 
 . 
 
 CXII. 
 
 Hymn for Matins 
 
 Sunday . 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 ditto . 
 
 CXIY. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Monday 
 
 cxr. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Tuesday 
 
 CXYI. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Wednesday 
 
 CXYII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Thursday 
 
 CXYIII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Friday . 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Saturday 
 
 cxx. 
 
 Hymn for Lauds, 
 
 Sunday . 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 ditto . 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Monday 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Tuesday 
 
 CXXIY. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Wednesday 
 
 CXXY. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Thursday 
 
 CXXYI. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Friday . 
 
 CXXYII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Saturday 
 
 GXXYIII. 
 
 Hymn for Prime 
 
 . 
 
 CXXIX. 
 
 Hymn for Tierce 
 
 . 
 
 exxx. 
 
 Hymn for Sext . 
 
 . 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 Hymn for None 
 
 . 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 Hymn for Vespers, Sunday 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Monday 
 
 CXXXIY. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Tuesday 
 
 CXXXY. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Wednesday 
 
 CXXXYI. 
 
 
 ditto 
 
 Thursday 
 
X JJ CONTENTS. 
 
 
 CXXXYil. Hymn for Vespers, Friday 
 
 
 cxxxyiii. ditto Saturday . 
 
 
 cxxxix. Hymn for Compline . 
 
 
 cxl. Hymn for First Vespers, Advent . 
 
 
 cxli. Hymn for Matins ditto . 
 
 
 cxlii. Hymn for Lauds ditto . 
 
 
 cxliii. Hymn for Matins, Transfiguratic 
 
 n 
 
 CXLiv. Hymn for Lands ditto 
 
 
 cxly. Hymn for a Martyr . 
 
 
 cxlyi. Hymn for a Confessor Bishop . 
 
 
 cxlvii. Ethelwald 
 
 
 CXLYin. Candlemas ...-■■ 
 
 
 CXLix. The Pilgrim Queen . 
 
 
 CL. The Month of Mary . 
 
 
 cli. The Queen of the Seasons . 
 
 
 clii. St. Valentine . 
 
 
 cliii. St. Philip ]S T eri in his Mission 
 
 
 CLIY. St. Philip in himself . 
 
 
 CLY. St. Philip in his God . 
 
 
 CLYI. Guardian Angel . 
 
 
 CLYH. The Golden Prison . 
 
 
 clyiii. Heathen Greece . 
 
 
 CLix. A Martyr Convert 
 
 
 CLX. St. Philip in his School 
 
 
 CLXi. St. Philip in his Disciples . 
 
 
 cxlii. For the Deari 
 
 
 cxliii. The Two Worlds 
 
 
 cxliy. The Dream of Gerontius . 
 
 
;%-%-! • ur-r 
 
 i. 
 PARAPHRASE 
 
 OF ISAIAH, CHAP. LXIY. 
 
 that Thou wouldest rend the breadth of sky, 
 That veils Thy presence from the sons of men ! 
 
 that, as erst Thou earnest from on high 
 
 Sudden in strength, Thou so would'st come again ! 
 
 Track'd out by judgments was Thy fiery path, 
 
 Ocean and mountain withering in Thy wrath ! 
 
 Then would Thy name — the Just, the Merciful — 
 Strange dubious attributes to human mind, 
 
 Appal Thy foes ; and kings, who spurn Thy rule, 
 Then, then would quake to hopeless doom 
 consign'd. 
 
 See, the stout bows, and totters the secure, 
 
 While pleasure's bondsman hides his head impure ! 
 
 B 
 
2 PAKAPHKASE 
 
 Come down ! for then shall from its seven bright 
 springs 
 
 To him who thirsts the draught of life be given ; 
 Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard the things 
 
 Which He hath purposed for the heirs of heaven, — 
 A God of love, guiding with gracious ray 
 Each meek rejoicing pilgrim on his way. 
 
 Yea, though we err, and Thine averted face 
 Rebukes the folly in Thine Israel done, 
 
 Will not that hour of chastisement give place 
 To beams, the pledge of an eternal sun ? 
 
 Yes ! for His counsels to the end endure ; 
 
 We shall be saved, our rest abideth sure. 
 
 Lord, Lord ! our sins . . . our sins . . . unclean are we, 
 Gross and corrupt ; our seeming- virtuous deeds 
 
 Are but abominate ; all, dead to Thee, 
 
 Shrivel, like leaves when summer's green recedes ; 
 
 While, like the autumn blast, our lusts arise, 
 
 And sweep their prey where the fell serpent lies. 
 
 None, there is none to plead with God in prayer, 
 Bracing his laggart spirit to the work 
 
 Of intercession ; conscience- sprung despair, 
 Sin- loving still, doth in each bosom lurk. 
 
Or ISAIAH, CHAP. LXIV. 3 
 
 Guilt calls Thee to avenge ; — Thy risen ire 
 Sears like a brand, we gaze and we expire. 
 
 But now, Lord, our Father ! we are Thine, 
 Design and fashion ; senseless while we lay, 
 
 Thou, as the potter, with a Hand Divine, 
 
 Didst mould Thy vessels of the sluggish clay. 
 
 Mark not our guilt, Thy word of wrath recall, 
 
 Lo, we are Thine by price, Thy people all ! 
 
 Alas for Zion ! 'tis a waste ; — the fair, 
 
 The holy place in flames ; — where once our sires 
 
 Kindled the sacrifice of praise and prayer, 
 
 Far other brightness gleams from Gentile fires. 
 
 Low lies our pride ; — and wilt Thou self-deny 
 
 Thy rescuing arm, unvex'd amid Thine Israel's cry? 
 
 Brighton. September, 1821. 
 
 B 2 
 
TO F. W. K., 
 
 II. 
 
 TO F. W. N. 
 
 A BIBTHDAY OFFERING. 
 
 Deab Frank, this morn has usher'd in 
 The manhood of thy days ; 
 
 A boy no more, thou must begin 
 To choose thy future ways ; 
 
 To brace thy arm, and nerve thy heart, 
 
 For maintenance of a noble part. 
 
 And thou a voucher fair hast given, 
 
 Of what thou wilt achieve, 
 Ere age has dimm'd thy sunlit heaven 
 
 In weary life's chill eve ; 
 Should Sovereign Wisdom in its grace 
 Vouchsafe to thee so long a race. 
 
 My brother, we are link'd with chain 
 That time shall ne'er destroy ; 
 
A BIETHDAT OFFERING. 
 
 Together we have been in pain, 
 
 Together now in joy ; 
 For duly I to share may claim 
 The present brightness of thy name. 
 
 My brother, 'tis no recent tie 
 
 Which binds our fates in one, 
 
 E'en from our tender infancy 
 
 The twisted thread was spun ; — 
 
 Her deed, who stored in her fond mind 
 
 Our forms, by sacred love enshrin'd. 
 
 In her affection all had share, 
 All six, she lov'd them all ; 
 
 Yet on her early-chosen Pair 
 Did her full favour fall ; 
 
 And we became her dearest theme, 
 
 Her waking thought, her nightly dream. 
 
 Ah ! brother, shall we e'er forget 
 Her love, her care, her zeal ? 
 
 We cannot pay the countless debt, 
 But we must ever feel ; 
 
 For through her earnestness were shed 
 
 Prayer-purchased blessings on our head. 
 
TO F. W. K, 
 
 Though in the end of days she stood, 
 And pain and weakness came, 
 
 Her force of thought was unsubdued, 
 Her fire of love the same ; 
 
 And e'en when memory fail'd its part, 
 
 We still kept lodgment in her heart. 
 
 And when her Maker from the thrall 
 Of flesh her spirit freed, 
 
 ]No suffering 'companied the call, 
 — In mercy 'twas decreed, — 
 
 One moment here, the next she trod 
 
 The viewless mansion of her God. 
 
 Now then at length she is at rest, 
 
 And, after many a woe, 
 Eejoices in that Saviour blest, 
 
 Who was her hope below ; 
 Kept till the day when He shall own 
 His saints before His Father's throne. 
 
 So it is left for us to prove 
 
 Her prayers were not in vain ; 
 
 And that God's grace-according love 
 Has fall'n as gentle rain, 
 
A EIETHDAT OFFEKI^G. 
 
 Which, sent in the due vernal hour, 
 Tints the young leaf, perfumes the flower. 
 
 Dear Frank, we both are summon'd now 
 As champions of the Lord ; — 
 
 Enroll'd am I, and shortly thou 
 Must buckle on thy sword ; 
 
 A high employ, nor lightly given, 
 
 To serve as messengers of heaven ! 
 
 Deep in my heart that gift I hide ; 
 
 I change it not away, 
 For patriot-warrior's hour of pride, 
 
 Or statesman's tranquil sway ; 
 For poet's fire, or pleader's skill 
 To pierce the soul and tame the will. 
 
 ! may we follow undismay'd 
 Where'er our Grod shall call ! 
 
 And may His Spirit's present aid 
 Uphold us lest we fall ! 
 
 Till in the end of days we stand, 
 
 As victors in a deathless land. 
 
 • 
 Chiswiclc. June 27, 1826. 
 
NATURE AND AltT. 
 
 II. 
 
 NATURE AND ART. 
 
 FOE AN ALBUM. 
 
 " Man goeth forth 1 " with restless 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 ? 
 
 1 Psalm civ. [ciii.] 23. 
 
tfATTJKE AND ABT. 
 
 take away this shade of might, 
 
 The puny toil of man, 
 And let rich Nature in my sight 
 Unfold her varied plan ; 
 
 1 cannot bear those sullen walls, 
 
 Those eyeless towers, those tongueless halls. 
 
 Art's labour' d 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 pass'd 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 ; 
 
10 FATTJBE AND ABT. 
 
 In colour, scent, and taste, and sound 
 The energy of life is found. 
 
 The leaves are rustling in the breeze, 
 The bird renews 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, 
 
 'Tis Nature's work, and has its charm. 
 
 Ah ! lovely Nature ! others dwell 
 Full favour' d 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. 
 
NATURE AND ART. 1L 
 
 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. 
 
 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 fix'd His work to do ; 
 Not labour' d into sudden heat, 
 
 But inly born anew. — 
 So living Nature, not dull Art, 
 Shall plan my ways and rule my heart. 
 
 Ulcombe. September, 1826. 
 
12 INTRODUCTION TO AN ALBUM. 
 
 IV. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO AN ALBUM. 
 
 I am a harp of many chords, and each 
 Strung by a separate hand ; — most musical 
 My notes, discoursing with the mental sense, 
 Not the outward ear. Try them, for they bespeak 
 Mild wisdom, graceful wit, and high-wrought taste, 
 Fancy, and hope, and decent gaiety. 
 
 Come, add a string to my assort of sounds ; 
 Widen the compass of my harmony ; 
 And join thyself in fellowship of name 
 With those, whose courteous labour and fair gifts 
 Have given me voice, and made me what I am. 
 
 Brighton. April, 1827. 
 
SNAPDRAGON. 13 
 
 T. 
 
 SNAPDEAGOIST. 
 
 A KIDDLE 
 FOR A FLOWER-BOOK. 
 
 I am rooted in the wall 
 
 Of buttress' d tower or ancient hall ; 
 
 Prison'd in an art-wrought bed, 
 
 Cas'd in mortar, cramp'd with lead ; 
 
 Of a living stock alone 
 
 Brother of the lifeless stone. 
 
 Else unprized, I have my worth 
 On the spot that gives me birth ; 
 Nature's vast and varied field 
 Braver flowers than me will yield, 
 Bold in form and rich in hue, 
 Children of a purer dew ; 
 Smiling lips and winning eyes 
 Meet for earthly paradise. 
 
14 SNAPDKAGON. 
 
 Choice are such, — and yet thou knowest 
 Highest he whose lot is lowest. 
 They, proud hearts, a home reject 
 Framed by human architect ; 
 Humble- 1 can bear to dwell 
 Near the pale recluse's cell, 
 And I spread my crimson bloom, 
 Mingled with the cloister's gloom. 
 
 Life's gay gifts and honours rare, 
 
 Flowers of favour ! win and wear ! 
 
 Rose of beauty, be the queen 
 
 In pleasure's ring and festive scene. 
 
 Ivy, climb and cluster, where 
 
 Lordly oaks vouchsafe a stair. 
 
 Yaunt, fair Lily, stately dame, 
 
 Pride of birth and pomp of name. 
 
 Miser Crocus, starved with cold, 
 
 Hide in earth thy timid gold. 
 
 Travell'd Dahlia, freely boast 
 
 Knowledge brought from foreign coast. 
 
 Pleasure, wealth, birth, knowledge, power, 
 
 These have each an emblem flower ; 
 
 So for me alone remains 
 
 Lowly thought and cheerful pains. 
 
SISTAPDEAGG^T. 15 
 
 Be it mine to set restraint 
 
 On roving wish and selfish plaint ; 
 
 And for man's drear haunts to leave 
 
 Dewy morn and balmy eve. 
 
 Be it mine the barren stone 
 
 To deck with green life not its own, 
 
 So to soften and to grace 
 
 Of human works the rugged face. 
 
 Mine, the Unseen to display 
 
 In the crowded public way, 
 
 Where life's busy arts combine 
 
 To shut out the Hand Divine. 
 
 A.h ! no more a scentless flower, 
 By approving Heaven's high power, 
 Suddenly my leaves exhale 
 Fragrance of the Syrian gale. 
 Ah ! 'tis timely comfort given 
 By the answering breath of Heaven ! 
 May it be ! then well might I 
 In College cloister live and die. 
 
 Ulcombe. October 2, 1827. 
 
1G THE TBAKCE OF TIME. 
 
 YI. 
 
 THE TKANCE OF TIME. 
 
 Felix, qui potuit reruni cognoscere causas, 
 Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum 
 Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari ! 
 
 ly childhood, when with eager eyes 
 The season-measured year I view'd, 
 All, garb'd in fairy guise, 
 Pledged constancy of good. 
 
 Spring sang of heaven ; the summer flowers 
 Bade me gaze on, and did not fade ; 
 Even suns o'er autumn's bowers 
 Heard my strong wish, and stay'd. 
 
 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. 
 
THE TRANCE OF TIME. 17 
 
 Par different now ; — the whirling year 
 Vainly my dizzy eyes pursue ; 
 And its fair tints appear 
 All blent in one dusk hue. 
 
 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. 
 
 priceless art ! O princely state ! 
 
 E'en while by sense of change opprest, 
 Within to antedate 
 
 Heaven's Age of fearless rest, 
 
 Highwood. October, 1827. 
 
 C 
 
18 CONSOLATIONS IN BEKEAYEMENT. 
 
 VII. 
 
 CONSOLATIONS IN BEREAVEMENT. 
 
 Death was full urgent with thee, Sister dear, 
 
 And startling in his speed ; — 
 Brief pain, then languor till thy end came near — 
 Such was the path decreed, 
 The hurried road 
 To lead thy soul from earth to thine own God's 
 abode. 
 
 Death wrought with thee, sweet maid, im- 
 patiently : — 
 
 Yet merciful the haste 
 That baffles sickness ; — dearest, thou didst die, 
 Thou wast not made to taste 
 Death's bitterness, 
 Decline's slow-wasting charm, or fever's fierce 
 distress. 
 
CONSOLATIONS IN BEREAVEMENT. 19 
 
 Death came unheralded : — but it was well ; 
 
 For so thy Saviour bore 
 Kind witness, thou wast meet at once to dwell 
 On His eternal shore ; 
 
 All warning spared, 
 For none He gives where hearts are for prompt 
 change prepared. 
 
 Death wrought in mystery ; both complaint and 
 cure 
 
 To human skill unknown : — 
 God put aside all means, to make us sure 
 It was His deed alone ; 
 
 Lest we should lay 
 Keproach on our poor selves, that thou wast caught 
 away. 
 
 Death urged as scant of time : — lest, Sister dear, 
 
 We many a lingering day 
 Had sicken'd with alternate hope and fear, 
 The ague of delay ; 
 
 Watching each spark 
 Of promise quench'd in turn, till all our sky was 
 dark. 
 
 c 2 
 
20 CONSOLATIONS IN BEBEAVEMENT. 
 
 Death came and went : — that so thy image might 
 
 Our yearning hearts possess, 
 Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright, 
 
 With youth and loveliness ; 
 Sorrow can claim, 
 Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name. 
 
 Joy of sad hearts, and light of downcast eyes ! 
 
 Dearest, thou art enshrined 
 In all thy fragrance in our memories ; 
 
 For we must ever find 
 
 Bare thought of thee 
 Freshen this weary life, while weary life shall be. 
 
 Oxford. April, 1828. 
 
A PICTTTKE. 2L 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A PXCTUKE. 
 
 The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth. 
 
 She is not gone ; — still in our sight 
 That dearest maid shall live, 
 
 In form as true, in tints as bright, 
 As youth and health could give. 
 
 Still, still is ours the modest eye ; 
 
 The smile un wrought by art ; 
 The glance that shot so piercingly 
 
 Affection's keenest dart ; 
 
 The thrilling voice, I ne'er could hear* 
 But felt a joy and pain ; — 
 
 A pride that she was ours, a fear 
 Ours she might not remain ; 
 
22 A PICTURE. 
 
 Whether the page divine called forth 
 
 Its clear, sweet, tranquil tone, 
 Or cheerful hymn, or seemly mirth 
 
 In sprightlier measure shown ; 
 
 The meek inquiry of that face, 
 
 Musing on wonders found, 
 As 'mid dim paths she sought to trace 
 
 The truth on sacred ground ; 
 
 The thankful sigh that would arise, 
 When aught her doubts removed, 
 
 Full sure the explaining voice to prize, 
 Admiring while she loved ; 
 
 The pensive brow, the world might see 
 
 When she in crowds was found ; 
 The burst of heart, the o'erflowing glee 
 
 When only friends were round ; 
 
 Hope's 'warmth of promise, prompt to fill 
 The thoughts with good in store, 
 
 Match' d with content's deep stream, which still 
 Flow'd on, when hope was o'er ; 
 
A PICTURE. 23 
 
 That peace, which, with its own bright day, 
 
 Made cheapest sights shine fair ; 
 That purest grace, which track' d its way 
 
 Safe from aught earthly there. 
 
 Such was she in the sudden hour 
 
 That brought her Maker's call, — 
 Proving her heart's self-mastering power 
 
 Blithely to part with all, — 
 
 All her eye loved, all her hand press'd 
 
 With keen affection's glow, 
 The voice of home, all pleasures best, 
 
 All dearest thoughts below. 
 
 From friend-lit hearth, from social board, 
 
 All duteously she rose ; 
 For faith upon the Master's word 
 
 Can find a sure repose. 
 
 And in her wonder up she sped, 
 
 And tried relief in vain ; 
 Then laid her down upon her bed 
 
 Of languor and of pain, — 
 
24 A PICTTTBE. 
 
 And waited till the solemn spell, 
 
 (A ling'ring night and day,) 
 Should fill its numbers, and compel 
 
 Her soul to come away. 
 
 Such was she then ; and such she is, 
 Shrined in each mourner's breast ; 
 
 Such shall she be, and more than this 
 In promised glory blest ; 
 
 When in due lines her Saviour dear 
 His scattered saints shall range, 
 
 And knit in love souls parted here, 
 Where cloud is none, nor change. 
 
 Oxford. August, 1828. 
 
OPUSCTJLTJM. 25 
 
 IX. 
 
 OPUSCULUM. 
 
 FOR A YERY SMALL ALBUM. 
 
 Fair Cousin, thy page 
 is small to encage 
 the thoughts which engage 
 the mind of a sage, 
 such as I am ; 
 
 'Twere in teaspoon to take 
 the whole G-enevese lake, 
 or a lap-dog to make 
 the white Elephant sac- 
 -red in Siam. 
 
 Yet inadequate though 
 to the terms strange and so- 
 -lemn that figure in po- 
 -lysyllabical row 
 
 in a treatise ; 
 
26 OPUSCULTTM. 
 
 Still, true words and plain, 
 of the heart, not the brain, 
 in affectionate strain, 
 this book to contain 
 very meet is. 
 
 So I promise to be 
 a good Cousin to thee, 
 and to keep safe the se- 
 cret I heard, although e- 
 -v'r y one know it ; 
 
 With a lyrical air 
 my kind thoughts I would dare, 
 and offer whate'er 
 beseems the news, were 
 I a poet. 
 
 Brighton. April, 1829. 
 
A VOICE FEOM AFAE. 27 
 
 A VOICE FKOM AFAE. 
 
 Weep not for me ; — 
 Be blithe as wont, nor tinge with gloom 
 The stream of love that circles home, 
 
 Light hearts and free ! 
 
 Joy in the gifts Heaven's bounty lends ; 
 
 Nor miss my face, dear friends ! 
 
 I still am near ; — 
 Watching the smiles I prized on earth. 
 Your converse mild, your blameless mirth ; 
 
 Now too I hear 
 Of whisper'd sounds the tale complete, 
 Low prayers, and musings sweet. 
 
28 A YOICE FROM AFAR. 
 
 A sea before 
 The Throne is spread ; — its pure still glass 
 Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass. 
 
 We, on its shore, 
 Share, in the bosom of our rest, 
 
 God's knowledge, and are blest. 
 
 Horsepath. September 29, 1829. 
 
THE HIDDEN ONES. 29 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE HIDDEN ONES. 
 
 Hid are the saints of God ; — 
 Uncertified by high angelic sign ; 
 Nor raiment soft, nor empire's golden rod 
 
 Marks them divine. 
 Theirs but the unbought air, earth's parent sod ? 
 
 And the sun's smile benign ; — 
 Christ rears His throne within the secret heart, 
 
 From the haughty world apart. 
 
 They gleam amid the night, 
 Chill sluggish mists stifling the heavenly ray ; 
 Fame chants the while, — old history trims his light, 
 
 Aping the day ; 
 In vain ! staid look, loud voice, and reason's might 
 
 Forcing its learned way, 
 Blind characters ! these aid us not to trace 
 
 Christ and His princely race. 
 
30 THE HIDDEN ONES. 
 
 Yet not all-hid from those 
 Who watch to see ; — -'neath their dull guise of earth, 
 Bright bursting gleams unwittingly disclose 
 
 Their heaven-wrought birth. 
 Meekness, love, patience, faith's serene repose ; 
 
 And the soul's tutor'd mirth, 
 Bidding the slow heart dance, to prove her power 
 
 O'er self in its proud hour. 
 
 These are the chosen few, 
 The remnant fruit of largely-seatter'd grace, 
 God sows in waste, to reap whom He foreknew 
 
 Of man's cold race ; 
 Counting on wills perverse, in His clear view 
 
 Of boundless time and space, 
 He waits, by scant return for treasures given, 
 
 To fill the thrones of heaven. 
 
 Lord ! who can trace but Thou 
 The strife obscure, 'twixt sin's soul-thralling spell 
 And Thy sharp Spirit, now quench'd, reviving now ? 
 Or who can tell, 
 
THE HIDDEN ONES. 31 
 
 Why pardon's seal stands sure on David's brow, 
 
 Why Saul and Demas fell ? 
 Oh ! lest our frail hearts in the annealing break, 
 
 Help, for Thy mercy's sake ! 
 
 Horsepath. September, 1829. 
 
32 A THANKSGIVING. 
 
 XII. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me. 
 
 Loed, in this dust Thy sovereign voice 
 First quicken' d love divine ; 
 
 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 ; 
 
A THANKSGIVING. 33 
 
 Blessings of friends, which to my door 
 XTnask'd, 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 throbhing brow ; 
 
 Sweet was the chastisement severe, 
 And sweet its memory now. 
 
 Yes ! let the fragrant scars abide, 
 
 Love-tokens in Thy stead, 
 Faint shadows of the spear-pierced side 
 
 And thorn-encompass'd head. 
 
 And such Thy tender force be still, 
 When self would swerve or stray, 
 
 Shaping to truth the froward will 
 Along Thy narrow way. 
 
 D 
 
34 A THANKSGIVING. 
 
 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. 
 
 Oxford. October, 1829. 
 
MONKS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 MONKS. 
 
 FOE ANOTHER SMALL ALBUM. 
 (With lines on hinges to Jit it.) 
 
 Why, dear Cousin, 
 
 why 
 Ask for verses, 
 when a poet's 
 fount of song is 
 
 dry? 
 Or, if aught be 
 
 there, 
 Harsh and chill, it 
 ill may touch the 
 hand of lady 
 
 fair. 
 Who can perfumed waters 
 
 bring 
 From a convent 
 
 spring ? 
 
 d 2 
 
36 ' MOXKS. 
 
 " Monks in the olden 
 
 time, 
 " They were rhymesters ? "- 
 they were rhymesters, 
 but in Latin 
 
 rhyme. 
 Monks in the days of 
 
 old 
 Lived in secret, 
 in the Church's 
 kindly - shelterin g 
 
 fold. 
 No bland meditators 
 
 they 
 Of a courtly 
 
 lav. 
 
 " They had visions 
 
 bright ?"- 
 they had visions, 
 yet not sent in 
 slumbers soft and 
 
 lisht. 
 
MOKKS. 37 
 
 No ! a lesson 
 
 stern 
 First by vigils, 
 fast, and penance, 
 theirs it was to 
 
 learn. 
 This their soul-ennobling 
 
 gain, 
 Joys wrought out by 
 
 pain. 
 
 " When from home they 
 
 stirr'd, 
 " Sweet their voices ?" — 
 still, a blessing 
 closed their merriest 
 
 word ; 
 And their gayest 
 
 smile 
 Told of musings 
 solitary, 
 and the hallow' d 
 
 aisle. 
 
38 MONKS. 
 
 " Songsters ?" — hark ! they answer ! 
 
 round 
 Plaintive chantings 
 
 sound ! 
 
 Grey his cowled 
 
 vest, 
 Whose strong heart has 
 pledged his service 
 to the cloister 
 
 blest. 
 Duly garb'd is 
 
 he, 
 As the frost-work 
 gems the branches 
 of yon stately 
 
 tree. 
 ? Tis a danger- thwarting 
 
 spell, 
 And it fits me 
 
 well! 
 
 Oxford. December, 1829. 
 
EPIPHANY-EYE. 39 
 
 XIV. 
 
 EPIPHANY-EVE. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY OFFERING. 
 
 Birthday gifts, with the early year, 
 
 Lo ! we bring thee, Mary dear ! 
 
 Prayer and praise upon thy death 
 
 Twined together in a wreath, 
 
 Grief and gladness, such as may 
 
 Suit a solemn holiday. 
 
 Christmas snow, for maiden's bloom 
 
 Blanched in winter's sudden tomb ; 
 
 Christmas berries, His red token 
 
 Who that grave's stern seal hath broken ; 
 
 These for thee the faithful heart, 
 
 Due mementos, sets apart. 
 
 'Twas a fast, that Eve of sorrow, 
 Herald veil'd of glorious morrow. 
 Speechless we sat ; and watch'd, to know 
 
40 A BIETHDAY OFFEKING. 
 
 How it would be ; but time moved slow. 
 
 Along that day of saered woe. 
 
 Then came the Feast, and we were told 
 
 Bravely of our best to bring, 
 Myrrh, and frankincense, and gold, 
 
 As our tribute to our King. 
 
 Dearest, gentlest, purest, best ! 
 Deep is thy mysterious rest, 
 Now the solemn hours are over 
 And the Angels round thee hover, 
 With the fanning of their wings 
 Keeping time to one who sings 
 Of high themes consolatory, 
 Of the All-loving and His glory, 
 Of the age that has no ending, 
 Of the day of thy ascending 
 From those shades of paradise 
 To the bright supernal skies. 
 
 Thinkest of us, dearest, ever? 
 Ah ! so be it nought can sever 
 Spirit and life, the past and present, 
 Still we yield thee musings pleasant. 
 
EPIPHANY-EVE. 41 
 
 — God above, and we below ;— 
 So thought ranges, to and fro. 
 He, in sooth, by tutorings mild, 
 From the rude clay shaped His child, 
 Fiery trial, anguish chill, 
 Served not here His secret will ; 
 But His voice was low and tender, 
 And so true was thy surrender, 
 That the work in haste was done, 
 Grace and nature blent in one. — 
 Harmless thus, and not unmeet, 
 To kiss the dear prints of thy feet, 
 Tracing thus the narrow road 
 All must tread, and Christ has trod. 
 
 Loveliest, meekest, blithest, kindest ! 
 Lead ! we seek the home thou findest ! 
 Though thy name to us most dear, 
 Go ! we would not have thee here. 
 Lead, a guiding beacon bright 
 To travellers on the Eve of Light. 
 Welcome aye thy Star before us, 
 Bring it grief or gladness o'er us ; — 
 Keen regret and tearful yearning, 
 
42 A BIETHDAT OFFEBING. 
 
 Whiles unfelt, and whiles returning ; — 
 Or more gracious thoughts abiding, 
 Fever- quelling, sorrow-chiding ; — 
 Or, when day-light blessings fail, 
 Transport fresh as spice-fraught gale, 
 Sparks from thee, which oft have lighted 
 Weary heart and hope benighted. 
 
 I this monument would raise, 
 Distant from the public gaze. 
 Few will see it ; — few e'er knew thee ; 
 But their beating hearts pursue thee, — 
 And their eyes fond thoughts betoken, 
 Though thy name be seldop spoken. 
 Pass on, stranger, and despise it ! 
 These will read, and these will prize it. 
 
 Oxford. January 5, 1830. 
 
THE WINTER FLOWER. 43 
 
 XT. 
 
 THE WINTER FLOWER. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY OFFERIKGL 
 {For Music.) 
 
 Bloom, beloved Flower ! — 
 Unknown ; — 'tis no matter. 
 
 Courts glitter brief hour, 
 Crowds can but flatter. 
 
 Plants in the garden 
 
 See best the Sun's glory ; 
 They miss the green sward in 
 
 A conservatory. 
 
 — PRIZED WHERE'ER ESOWtf.— 
 
 Sure this is a blessing, 
 Outrings the loud tone 
 
 Of the dull world's caressing. 
 
 Oxford. December 30, 1830. 
 
44 KIND REMEMBRANCES. 
 
 XYI. 
 
 KIND BEMEMBBANCES. 
 
 5 Tis long, dear Annie, since we met, 
 Yet deem not that my heart, 
 
 For all that absence, can forget 
 A kinsman's pious part. 
 
 How oft on thee, a sufferer mild, 
 My kindly thoughts I turn, 
 
 He knows, upon whose altar piled 
 The prayers of suppliants burn. 
 
 I love thy name, admiring all 
 Thy sacred heaven-sent pain : 
 
 I love it, for it seems to call 
 The Lost to earth again. 
 
 Can I forget, she to thy need 
 
 Her ministry supplied, 
 Who now, from mortal duty freed, 
 
 Serves at the Virgin's side ? 
 
KrN"D EEMEMEEANGES. 45 
 
 What wouldest thou more ? Upon thy head 
 
 A two-fold grace is pour'd ; — ■ 
 Both in thyself, and for the dead, 
 
 A witness of thy Lord ! 
 
 Oxford. March, 1831. 
 
46 SEEDS m THE AIB. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 SEEDS m THE AIR. 
 
 FOR AK ALBUM. 
 
 Igneus est ollis vigor, et eoelestis origo 
 Seminibus. 
 
 Cotjld I hit on a theme 
 
 To fashion my verse on, 
 Not long would I seem 
 
 A lack-courtesy person. 
 But I have not the skill, 
 
 Nor talisman strong, 
 To summon at will 
 
 The Spirit of song. — 
 Bright thoughts are roaming 
 
 Unseen in the air ; 
 Like comets, their coming 
 
 Is sudden and rare. 
 They strike, and they enter, 
 
 And light up the brain, 
 Which thrills to its centre 
 
 With rapturous pain. 
 
SEEDS IIST THE AIR 47 
 
 Where the chance-seed 
 
 Is piously nursed, 
 Brighter succeed 
 
 In the path of the first. — 
 One sighs to the Muse, 
 
 Or the sweet nightingale, 
 One sips the night-dews 
 
 Which moon-beams exhale. 
 All this is a fiction ; 
 
 I never could find 
 A suitable friction 
 
 To frenzy my mind. 
 What use are empirics ? 
 
 No gas on their shelf 
 Can make one spout lyrics 
 
 In spite of oneself ! 
 
 Dartington. July 18, 1831. 
 
48 THE PILGBIM. 
 
 XYITT. 
 
 THE PILGRIM. 
 
 EOE A1ST ALBUM. 
 
 Theee stray'd awhile, amid the woods of Dart, 
 One who could love them, but who durst not love. 
 
 A vow had bound him, ne'er to give his heart 
 To streamlet bright, or soft secluded grove, 
 'Twas a hard humbling task, onwards to move 
 
 JHis easy-captured eyes from each fair spot, 
 With unattach'd and lonely step to rove 
 
 O'er happy meads, which soon its print forgot ; — 
 
 Yet kept he safe his pledge, prizing his pilgrim-lot. 
 
 Partington. July 21, 1831. 
 
HOME. 49 
 
 XIX. 
 
 HOME. 
 
 Where'ee I roam in this fair English land, 
 The vision of a Temple meets my eyes : 
 Modest without ; within, all-glorious rise 
 Its love-encluster'd columns, and expand 
 Their slender arms. Like olive-plants they stand, 
 Each answ'ring each, in home's soft sympathies, 
 Sisters and brothers. At the altar sighs 
 Parental fondness, and with anxious hand 
 Tenders its offering of young vows and prayers. 
 The same, and not the same, go where I will, 
 The vision beams ! ten thousand shrines, all one 
 Dear fertile soil ! what foreign culture bears 
 Such fruit ? And I through distant climes may run 
 My weary round, yet miss thy likeness still. 
 
 Oxford. 'November 16, 1832. 
 
50 THE BRAND OF CAIE". 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE BRAND OF CAIN. 
 
 I bear upon my brow the sign 
 
 Of sorrow and of pain ; 
 Alas ! no hopeful cross is mine, 
 
 It is the brand of Cain. 
 
 The course of passion, and the fret 
 
 Of godless hope and fear, — 
 Toil, care, and guilt, — their hues have set, 
 
 And fix'd their sternness there. 
 
 Saviour ! wash out th' imprinted shame ; 
 
 That I no more may pine, 
 Sin's martyr, though not meet to claim 
 
 Thy cross, a saint of Thine. 
 
 Oxford. November 18, 1832. 
 
ZEAL AIST) LOVE. 51 
 
 XXI. 
 
 ZEAL AND LOVE. 
 
 And would' st thou reach, rash scholar mine, 
 
 Love's high unruffled state ? 
 Awake ! th y easy dreams resign, 
 
 First learn thee how to hate :— 
 
 Hatred of sin, and Zeal, and Fear, 
 
 Lead up the Holy Hill ; 
 Track them, till Charity appear 
 
 A self-denial still. 
 
 Dim is the philosophic flame, 
 
 By thoughts severe unfed : 
 Book-lore ne'er served, when trial came, 
 
 Nor gifts, when faith was dead. 
 
 Oxford. Novemher 20, 1832. 
 
52 PEBSECUTION. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 PERSECUTION. 
 
 " And the woman fled into the wilderness/' 
 
 Sat, who is lie in deserts seen, 
 
 Or at the twilight hour ? 
 Of garb austere, and dauntless mien, 
 Measured in speech, in purpose keen, 
 Calm as in Heaven he had been, 
 
 Yet blithe when perils lower. 
 
 My Holy Mother made reply, 
 " Dear child, it is my Priest. 
 
 The world has cast me forth, and I 
 
 Dwell with wild earth and gusty sky ; 
 
 He bears to men my mandates high, 
 And works my sage behest. 
 
PEBSECUTION. 53 
 
 Another day, dear child, and thou 
 
 Shalt join his sacred band. 
 Ah ! well I deem, thou shrinkest now 
 From urgent rule and severing vow ; 
 Gay hopes flit round, and light thy brow : 
 
 Time hath a taming hand !" 
 
 Oxford. November 22, 1832. 
 
54 ZEAL AND PUEITT. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 ZEAL KND PURITY. 
 
 " Come with me, and see my zeal for the Lord." 
 
 Thou to wax fierce 
 
 In the cause of the Lord, 
 To threat and to pierce 
 
 With the heavenly sword ! 
 Anger and Zeal, 
 
 And the Joy of the brave, 
 Who bade thee to feel, 
 
 Sin's slave. 
 
 The Altar's pure flame 
 
 Consumes as it soars ; 
 Faith meetly may blame, 
 
 For it serves and adores. 
 Thou warnest and smitest ! 
 
 Yet Christ must atone 
 For a soul that thou slightest — 
 
 Thine own. 
 Oxford, November 23, 1832. 
 
THE GIFT OF PERSEVERANCE. 55 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 THE GIFT OF PERSEVERANCE. 
 
 Once, as I brooded o'er my guilty state, 
 A fever seized me, duties to devise, 
 To buy me interest in my Saviour's eyes ; 
 Not that His love I would extenuate, 
 But scourge and penance, masterful self-hate, 
 Or gift of cost, served by an artifice 
 To quell my restless thoughts and envious sighs 
 And doubts, which fain heaven's peace would ante- 
 date. 
 Thus as I tossed, He said : " E'en holiest deeds 
 Shroud not the soul from God, nor soothe its needs ; 
 Deny thee thine own fears, and wait the end !" 
 Stern lesson ! Let me con it day by day, 
 And learn to kneel before the Omniscient Ray, 
 Nor shrink, when Truth's avenging shafts descend ! 
 
 Oxford. November 23, 1832. 
 
56 THE SIGN OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 XXT. 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 Whene'er across this sinful flesh of mine 
 
 I draw the Holy Sign, 
 All good thoughts stir within me, and renew 
 
 Their slumbering strength divine ; 
 Till there springs up a courage high and true 
 
 To suffer and to do. 
 
 And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, 
 
 For their brief hour unbound, 
 Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow ? 
 
 While on far heathen ground 
 Some lonely Saint hails the fresh odour, though 
 
 Its source he cannot know. 
 
 Oxford. November 25, 1832. 
 
THE SCABS OP SIN. 57 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE SCAES OF SIN. 
 
 My smile is bright, my glance is free, 
 
 My voice is calm and clear ; 
 Dear friend, I seem a type to thee 
 
 Of holy love and fear. 
 
 But I am scann'd by Eyes unseen, 
 
 And these no saint surround ; 
 That mete what is by what has been, 
 
 And joy the lost is found. 
 
 Erst my good Angel shrank to see 
 
 My thoughts and ways of ill ; 
 And now he scarce dare gaze on me, 
 
 Scar-seam'd and crippled still. 
 
 Iffley. November 29, 1832. 
 
58 ANGELIC GUIDANCE. 
 
 XXYII. 
 
 ANGELIC GUIDANCE. 
 
 Aee these the tracks of some unearthly Friend, 
 His foot-prints, and his vesture-skirts of light, 
 Who, as I talk with men, conforms aright 
 Their sympathetic words, or deeds that blend 
 With my hid thought ; — or stoops him to attend 
 My doubtful-pleading grief; — or blunts the might 
 Of ill I see not ; — or in dreams of night 
 Figures the scope, in which what is will end ? 
 Were I Christ's own, then fitly might I call 
 That vision real ; for to the thoughtful mind 
 That walks with Him, He half unveils His face ; 
 But, when on earth-stain'd souls such tokens fall, 
 These dare not claim as theirs what there they 
 
 find, 
 Yet, not all hopeless, eye His boundless grace. 
 
 Whitchurch, December 3, 1832. 
 
SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 59 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW. 
 
 They do but grope in learning's pedant round, 
 Who on the fantasies of sense bestow 
 An idol substance, bidding us bow low 
 Before those shades of being which are found, 
 Stirring or still, on man's brief trial-ground ; 
 
 As if such shapes and moods, which come and go, 
 Had ought of Truth or Life in their poor show, 
 To sway or judge, and skill to sain or wound. 
 Son of immortal seed, high-destined Man ! 
 Know thy dread gift, — a creature, yet a cause : 
 Each mind is its own centre, and it draws 
 Home to itself, and moulds in its thought's span 
 Ail outward things, the vassals of its will, 
 Aided by Heaven, by earth unthwarted still. 
 
 Falmouth. December 7, 1832. 
 
60 WAKDEEINGS. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 WANDEBINGS. 
 
 Eee yet I left home's youthful shrine, 
 My heart and hope were stored 
 
 Where first I caught the rays divine, 
 And drank the Eternal Word. 
 
 I went afar ; the world unroll' d 
 Her many-pictured page ; 
 
 I stored the marvels which she told, 
 And trusted to her gage. 
 
 Her pleasures quaff' d, I sought awhile 
 The scenes I prized before ; 
 
 But parent's praise and sister's smile 
 Stirr'd my cold heart no more. 
 
WAKDEEINGS. 61 
 
 So ever sear, so ever cloy 
 
 Earth's favours as they fade ; 
 Since Adam lost for one fierce joy 
 
 His Eden's sacred shade. 
 
 Off the Lizard. December 8, 1832. 
 
62 THE SAINT AND THE HEEO. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE SAINT AND THE HEEO. 
 
 aged Saint ! far off I heard 
 The praises of thy name ; — 
 
 Thy deed of power, thy prudent word, 
 Thy zeal's triumphant flame. 
 
 1 came and saw ; and, having seen, 
 Weak heart, I drew offence 
 
 From thy prompt smile, thy simple mien, 
 Thy lowly diligence. 
 
 The Saint's is not the Hero's praise ; — 
 
 This I have found, and learn 
 Nor to malign Heaven's humblest ways, 
 
 Nor its least boon to spurn. 
 
 Bay of Biscay, December 10, 1832. 
 
PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 63 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 PEIYATE JUDGMENT. 
 
 Poor wand'rers, ye are sore distress'd 
 To find that path which Christ has bless'd 
 
 Track'd by His saintly throng ; 
 Each claims to trust his own weak will, 
 Blind idol ! — so ye languish still, 
 
 All wranglers and all wrong. 
 
 He saw of old, and met your need, 
 Granting you prophets of His creed, 
 
 The throes of fear to swage ; 
 They fenced the rich bequest He made, 
 And sacred hands have safe convey'd 
 
 Their charge from age to age. 
 
 Wand'rers ! come home ! obey the call ! 
 A mother pleads, who ne'er let fall 
 
G± PBIVATE JUDGMENT. 
 
 One grain of Holy Truth ; 
 Warn you and win she shall and must, 
 For now she lifts her from the dust, 
 
 To reign as in her youth ! 
 
 Off Cape Ortegal. December 11, 1832. 
 
THE ISLES OF THE SIBENS. 65 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 THE ISLES OF THE SIEENS. 
 
 Cease, Stranger, cease those piercing notes ? 
 
 The craft of Siren choirs ; 
 Hush the seductive voice, that floats 
 
 Upon the languid wires. 
 
 Music's ethereal fire was given, 
 
 Not to dissolve our clay, 
 But draw Promethean beams from heaven, 
 
 And purge the dross away. 
 
 Weak self! with thee the mischief lies, 
 
 Those throbs a tale disclose ; 
 Nor age nor trial has made wise 
 
 The Man of many woes. 
 
 Off Lisbon. December 13, 1832. 
 
66 MEMOET. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 MEMOEY. 
 
 My home is now a thousand miles away ; 
 Yet in my thoughts its every image fair 
 Rises as keen, as I still linger'd there, 
 And, turning me, could all I loved survey. 
 And so, upon Death's unaverted day, 
 As I speed upwards, I shall on me bear, 
 And in no breathless whirl, the things that were, 
 And duties given, and ends I did obey. 
 And, when at length I reach the Throne of Power, 
 Ah ! still unscared, I shall in fulness see 
 The vision of my past innumerous deeds, 
 My deep heart- courses, and their motive-seeds, 
 So to gaze on till the red dooming hour. 
 Lord, in that strait, the Judge ! remember me ! 
 
 Off Cape Trafalgar. December 15, 1832. 
 
THE HAVEN. 67 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 THE HAVEN. 
 
 Whence is this awe, by stillness spread 
 
 O'er the world-fretted soul ? 
 
 Wave rear'd on wave its godless head, 
 
 While my keen bark, by breezes sped, 
 
 Dash'd fiercely through the ocean bed, 
 
 And chafed towards its goal. 
 
 But now there reigns so deep a rest, 
 
 That I could almost weep. 
 Sinner ! thou hast in this rare guest 
 Of Adam's peace a figure blest ; 
 'Tis Eden seen, though not possess'd, 
 
 Which cherub-flames still keep. 
 
 Gibraltar. December 16, 1832. 
 
 E 2 
 
68 A WORD IN SEASON. 
 
 XXXY. 
 
 A WOKD IN SEASON. 
 
 O Lord ! when sin's close-marshall'd line 
 
 Assails Thy witness on his way, 
 How should he raise Thy glorious sign, 
 And how Thy will display ? 
 
 Thy holy Paul, with soul of flame, 
 
 Eose on Mars' hill, a soldier lone ; 
 Shall I thus speak th' Atoning Name, 
 Though with a heart of stone ? 
 
 " Not so," He said : " hush thee, and seek, 
 
 With thoughts in prayer and watchful eyes, 
 My seasons sent for thee to speak, 
 And use them as they rise." 
 
 Gibraltar. December 17, 1832. 
 
FAIR WORDS. 69 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 FAIK WOEDS. 
 
 Tht words are good, and freely given, 
 As though thou felt them true ; 
 
 Friend, think thee well, to hell or heaven 
 A serious heart is due. 
 
 It pains thee sore, man's will should swerve 
 
 In His true path divine ; 
 And yet thou ventur'st nought to serve 
 
 Thy neighbour's weal nor thine. 
 
 Beware ! such words may once be said, 
 
 Where shame and fear unite ; 
 But, spoken twice, they mark instead 
 
 A sin against the light. 
 
 Gibraltar. December 17, 1832. 
 
70 ENGLAND. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 Ttee of the West, and glorying in the name 
 
 More than in Faith's pure fame ! 
 trust not crafty fort nor rock renown'd 
 
 Earn'd upon hostile ground ; 
 Wielding Trade's master-keys, at thy proud will 
 To lock or loose its waters, England ! trust not still. 
 
 Dread thine own power! Since haughty Babel's 
 prime, 
 
 High towers have been man's crime. 
 Since her hoar age, when the huge moat lay bare, 
 
 Strongholds have been man's snare. 
 Thy nest is in the crags ; ah ! refuge frail ! 
 Mad counsel in its hour, or traitors, will prevail. 
 
 He who scann'd Sodom for His righteous men 
 Still spares thee for thy ten ; 
 
ENGLAND. 71 
 
 But, should vain tongues the Bride of Heaven defy, 
 
 He will not pass thee by ; 
 For, as earth's kings welcome their spotless guest, 
 So gives He them by turn, to suffer or be blest. 
 
 At Sea. December 18, 1832. 
 
72 MOSES. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 MOSES. 
 
 Moses, the patriot fierce, became 
 
 The meekest man on earth, 
 To show ns how love's quick'ning flame 
 
 Can give our souls new birth. 
 
 Moses, the man of meekest heart, 
 
 Lost Canaan by self-will, 
 To show, where Grace has done its part, 
 
 How sin defiles us still. 
 
 Thou, who hast taught me in Thy fear, 
 
 Yet seest me frail at best, 
 O grant me loss with Moses here, 
 
 To gain his future rest ! 
 
 At Sea. December 19, 1832. 
 
THE PATIENT CHURCH. 73 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 THE PATIENT CHUECH. 
 
 Bide thou thy time ! 
 Watch with meek eyes the race of pride and crime, 
 Sit in the gate, and be the heathen's jest, 
 
 Smiling and self-possest. 
 thou, to whom is pledged a victor's sway, 
 
 Bide thou the victor's day ! 
 
 Think on the sin 1 
 That reap'd the unripe seed, and toil'd to win 
 Foul history-marks at Bethel and at Dan ; 
 
 No blessing, but a ban ; 
 Whilst the wise Shepherd 2 hid his heaven-told fate, 
 
 Nor reck'd a tyrant's hate. 
 
 Such loss is gain : 
 Wait the bright Advent that shall loose thy chain ! 
 
 1 Jeroboam. 2 David. 
 
74 THE PATIENT CHTTBCH. 
 
 E'en now the shadows break, and gleams divine 
 
 Edge the dim distant line. 
 When thrones are trembling, and earth's fat ones 
 quail, 
 
 True Seed ! thou shalt prevail ! 
 
 Off Algiers. December 20, 1832. 
 
JEREMIAS. ib 
 
 XL. 
 
 JEEEMIAS. 
 
 ■ e Oh that I had in the wilderness a lodging -place of way- 
 faring men ; that I might leave my people, and go from 
 them!" 
 
 " Woe's me ! " the peaceful prophet cried, 
 
 " Spare me this troubled life ; 
 To stem man's wrath, to school his pride, 
 
 To head the sacred strife ! 
 
 " O place me in some silent vale, 
 Where groves and flowers abound ; 
 
 Nor eyes that grudge, nor tongues that rail, 
 Vex the truth-haunted ground !" 
 
 If his meek spirit err'd, opprest, 
 
 That God denied repose, 
 What sin is ours, to whom Heaven's rest 
 
 Is pledged, to heal earth's woes ? 
 
 Off Galita. December 22, 1832. 
 
76 PEKANCE . 
 
 XLI. 
 
 PENANCE. 
 
 Moetal ! if e'er thy spirits faint, 
 
 By grief or pain opprest, 
 Seek not vain hope, or sour complaint, 
 
 To cheer or ease thy breast ; 
 
 But view thy bitterest pangs as sent 
 
 A shadow of that doom, 
 Which is the soul's just punishment 
 
 In its own guilt's true home. 
 
 Be thine own judge : hate thy proud heart ; 
 
 And while the sad drops flow, 
 E'en let thy will attend the smart, 
 
 And sanctify thy woe. 
 
 Off Pantellaria. December 23, 1832. 
 
THE COURSE OE TRUTH. 77 
 
 XLII. 
 
 THE COUESE OF TEUTH. 
 
 " Him God raised up the third day, and shewed Him openly, 
 not to all the people, but unto witnesses chosen before of 
 God." 
 
 When royal Truth, released from mortal throes, 
 Burst His brief slumber, and triumphant rose, 
 111 had the Holiest sued 
 A patron multitude, 
 Or courted Tetrarch's eye, or claim'd to rule 
 By the world's winning grace, or proofs from learned 
 school. 
 
 But, robing Him in viewless air, He told 
 His secret to a few of meanest mould ; 
 They in their turn imparted 
 The gift to men pure-hearted, 
 While the brute many heard His mysteries high, 
 As some strange fearful tongue, and crouch'd, they 
 knew not why. 
 
78 THE COTJESE OF TETJTH. 
 
 Still is the might of Truth, as it has been : 
 Lodged in the few, obey'd, and yet unseen. 
 Rear'd on lone heights, and rare, 
 His saints their watch-flame bear, 
 And the mad world sees the wide-circling blaze, 
 Yain searching whence it streams, and how to 
 quench its rays. 
 
 Malta. December 24,1832. 
 
CHRISTMAS WITHOUT CHEIST. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 CHEISTMAS WITHOUT CHEIST. 
 
 How can I keep my Christmas feast 
 
 In its due festive show, 
 Reft of the sight of the High Priest 
 
 From whom its glories flow ? 
 
 I hear the tuneful bells around, 
 
 The blessed towers I see ; 
 A stranger on a foreign ground, 
 
 They peal a fast for me. 
 
 Britons ! now so brave and high, 
 
 How will ye weep the day 
 When Christ in judgment passes by, 
 
 And calls the Bride away ! 
 
80 CHEISTMAS WITHOUT CHEIST. 
 
 Your Christmas then will lose its mirth, 
 Your Easter lose its bloom : — 
 
 Abroad, a sceue of strife and dearth ; 
 Within, a cheerless home ! 
 
 Malta. December 25, 1832. 
 
SLEEPLESSNESS. 81 
 
 XLIY. 
 
 SLEEPLESSNESS. 
 
 Unweakied Glod, before whose face 
 
 The night is clear as day, 
 Whilst we, poor worms, o'er life's scant race 
 
 Now creep, and now delay, 
 We with death's foretaste alternate 
 Our labour's dint and sorrow's weight, 
 Save in that fever-troubled state 
 
 Where pain or care has sway. 
 
 Dread Lord ! Thy glory, watchfulness, 
 
 Is but disease in man ; 
 We to our cost our bounds transgress 
 
 In Thy eternal plan : 
 Pride grasps the powers by Thee display'd, 
 Yet ne'er the rebel effort made 
 But fell beneath the sudden shade 
 
 Of nature's withering ban. 
 
 Malta. December 26, 1832. 
 
82 ABRAHAM. 
 
 XLY. 
 
 ABRAHAM. 
 
 The better portion didst thou choose, Great Heart, 
 Thy God's first choice, and pledge of Gentile 
 
 grace ! 
 Faith's truest type, he with unruffled face 
 
 Bore the world's smile, and bade her slaves depart ; 
 
 Whether, a trader, with no trader's art, 
 
 He buys in Canaan his last resting-place, — 
 Or freely yields rich Siddim's ample space, — 
 
 Or braves the rescue, and the battle's smart, 
 
 Yet scorns the heathen gifts of those he saved. 
 
 happy in their soul's high solitude, 
 
 Who commune thus with God, and not with 
 earth ! 
 
 Amid the scofnngs of the wealth-enslaved, 
 
 A ready prey, as though in absent mood 
 
 They calmly move, nor reck the unmanner'd 
 mirth. 
 
 At Sea. December 27, 1832. 
 
THE GREEK FATHERS. 83 
 
 XLYI. 
 
 THE GEEEK FATHEES. 
 
 Let heathens sing thy heathen praise, 
 Fall'n Greece ! the thought of holier days 
 
 In my sad heart abides ; 
 For sons of thine in Truth's first hour 
 Were tongues and weapons of His power, 
 Born of the Spirit's fiery shower, 
 
 Our fathers and our guides. 
 
 All thine is Clement's varied page ; 
 And Dionysius, ruler sage, 
 
 In days of doubt and pain ; 
 And Origen with eagle eye ; 
 And saintly Basil's purpose high 
 To smite imperial heresy, 
 
 And cleanse the Altar's stain. 
 G 2 
 
84 THE QREEK FATHERS. 
 
 From thee the glorious Preacher came, 
 With soul of zeal and lips of flame, 
 
 A court's stern martyr-guest ; 
 And thine, inexhaustive race ! 
 Was Nazianzen's heaven-taught grace ; 
 And royal-hearted Athanase, 
 
 With Paul's own mantle blest. 
 
 Off Zante. December 28, 1832. 
 
THE WITNESS. 85 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 THE WITNESS. 
 
 How shall a child of God fulfil 
 His vow to cleanse his soul from ill, 
 And raise on high his baptism-light, 
 Like Aaron's seed in vestment white, 
 And holy-hearted Nazarite ? 
 
 First, let him shun the haunts of vice, 
 Sin-feast, or heathen sacrifice ; 
 Fearing the board of wealthy pride, 
 Or heretic, self-trusting guide, 
 Or where the adulterer's smiles preside. 
 
 Next, as he threads the maze of men, 
 Aye must he lift his witness, when 
 A sin is spoke in Heaven's dread face, 
 And none at hand of higher grace 
 The Cross to carry in his place. 
 
86 THE WITNESS. 
 
 But if lie hears and sits him still, 
 First, he will lose his hate of ill ; 
 Next, fear of sinning, after hate ; 
 Small sins his heart then desecrate ; 
 And last, despair persuades to great. 
 
 Off Ithaca. December 30, 1832. 
 
THE DEATH OF MOSES. 87 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 THE DEATH OF MOSES. 
 
 My Father's hope ! my childhood's dream ! 
 
 The promise from on high ! 
 Long waited for ! its glories beam 
 
 Now when my death is nigh. 
 
 My death is come, but not decay ; 
 
 Nor eye nor mind is dim ; 
 The keenness of youth's vigorous day 
 
 Thrills in each nerve and limb. 
 
 Blest scene ! thrice welcome after toil — 
 
 If no deceit I view ; 
 might my lips but press the soil, 
 
 And prove the vision true ! 
 
5 THE DEATH OF MOSES. 
 
 Its glorious heights, its wealthy plains. 
 
 Its many-tinted groves, 
 They call ! but He my steps restrains 
 
 Who chastens whom He loves. 
 
 Ah ! now they melt . . . they are but shades . . 
 
 I die ! — yet is no rest, 
 Lord ! in store, since Canaan fades 
 
 But seen, and not possest ? 
 
 Off Ithaca. December 30, 1832. 
 
MELCHIZEDEE - . 89 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 MELCHIZEDEK. 
 
 "Without father, without mother, without descent; having 
 neither beginning of days, nor end of life." 
 
 Thrice bless'd are they, who feel their loneliness ; 
 
 To whom nor voice of friends nor pleasant scene 
 
 Brings that on which the sadden' d heart can lean ; 
 Yea, the rich earth, garb'd in her daintiest dress 
 Of light and joy, doth but the more oppress, 
 
 Claiming responsive smiles and rapture high ; 
 
 Till, sick at heart, beyond the veil they fly, 
 Seeking His Presence, who alone can bless. 
 Such, in strange days, the weapons of Heaven's 
 
 grace ; 
 When, passing o'er the high-born Hebrew line, 
 He forms the vessel of His vast design ; 
 Fatherless, homeless, reft of age and place, 
 Sever'd from earth, and careless of its wreck, 
 Born through long woe His rare Melchizedek. 
 
 Corfu. January 5, 1833. 
 
90 CORCYBA. 
 
 L. 
 
 COECYEA. 
 
 I sat beneath an olive's branches grey, 
 And gazed upon the site of a lost town, 
 By sage and poet raised to long renown ; 
 
 Where dwelt a race that on the sea held sway, 
 
 And, restless as its waters, forced a way 
 For civil strife a hundred states to drown. 
 That multitudinous stream we now note down 
 
 As though one life, in birth and in decay. 
 
 But is their being's history spent and run, 
 
 Whose spirits live in awful singleness, 
 
 Each in its self-form'd sphere of light or gloom ? 
 
 Henceforth, while pondering the fierce deeds then 
 done, 
 
 Such reverence on me shall its seal impress 
 
 As though I corpses saw, and walk'd the tomb. 
 
 At Sea. January 7, 1833. 
 
TRANSFIGURATION. 91 
 
 LI. 
 
 TKANSFIGITKATIOlSr. 
 
 " They glorified God in me." 
 
 I saw thee once, and nought discern'd 
 
 For stranger to admire ; 
 A serious aspect, but it burn'd 
 
 With no unearthly fire. 
 
 Again I saw, and I confess' d 
 
 Thy speech was rare and high ; 
 
 And yet it vex'd my burden'd breast, 
 And scared, I knew not why. 
 
 I saw once more, and awe-struck gazed 
 
 On face, and form, and air ; 
 Grod's living glory round thee blazed— 
 
 A Saint — a Saint was there ! 
 
 Off Zante. January 8, 1833. 
 
92 BEHIKD THE YELL. 
 
 LII. 
 
 BEHIND THE VEIL. 
 
 Bantsh'd the House of sacred rest. 
 
 Amid a thoughtless throng, 
 At length I heard its creed confess' d, 
 
 And knelt the saints among. 
 
 Artless his strain and unadorn'd, 
 Who spoke Christ's message there ; 
 
 But what at home I might have scorn'd, 
 Now charm'd my famish'd ear. 
 
 Lord, grant me this abiding grace, 
 Thy Word and sons to know ; 
 
 To pierce the veil on Moses' face, 
 Although his speech be slow. 
 
 At Sea. January 9, 1833. 
 
JUDGMENT. 93 
 
 Liir. 
 JUDGMENT. 
 
 If e'er I fall beneath Thy rod, 
 
 As through life's snares I go, 
 Save me from David's lot, G-od ! 
 
 And choose Thyself the woe. 
 
 How should I face Thy plagues ? which scare, 
 
 And haunt, and stun, until 
 The heart or sinks in mute despair, 
 
 Or names a random ill. 
 
 If else . . . then guide in David's path, 
 
 Who chose the holier pain ; 
 Satan and man are tools of wrath, 
 
 An Angel's scourge is gain. 
 
 Of Malta. January 10, 1833. 
 
94 SENSITIVENESS. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 SENSITIVENESS. 
 
 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. 
 
SENSITIVENESS. 95 
 
 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. 
 
 Lazaret. Malta. January 15, 1833. 
 
96 DATID AND JONATHAN". 
 
 LT. 
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN. 
 
 (< Thy love to Hie was wonderful, passing the love of women.'' 
 
 heaet of fire ! misjudged by wilful man, 
 
 Thou flower of Jesse's race ! 
 What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan 
 
 Last greeted face to face ! 
 He doom'd to die, thou on us to impress 
 The portent of a blood-stain'd holiness. 
 
 Yet it was well : — for so, 'mid cares of rule 
 
 And crime's encircling tide, 
 A spell was o'er thee, zealous one, to cool 
 
 Earth-joy and kingly pride ; 
 With battle-scene and pageant, prompt to blend 
 The pale calm spectre of a blameless friend. 
 
DAVID AND JONATHAN. 97 
 
 Ah ! had he lived, before thy throne to stand, 
 
 Thy spirit keen and high 
 Sure it had snapp'd in twain love's slender band, 
 
 So dear in memory ; 
 Paul, of his comrade reft, the warning gives, — 
 He lives to us who dies, he is but lost who lives. 
 
 Lazaret, Malta. January 16, 1833. 
 
08 HUMILIATIOIS". 
 
 LYI. 
 
 HUMILIATION. 
 
 I have been honour' d and obey'd, 
 
 I have met scorn and slight ; 
 And my heart loves earth's sober shade, 
 
 More than her laughing light. 
 
 Eor what is rule but a sad weight 
 
 Of duty and a snare ? 
 What meanness, but with happier fate 
 
 The Saviour's Cross to share ? 
 
 This my hid choice, if not from heaven, 
 Moves on the heavenward line ; 
 
 Cleanse it, good Lord, from earthly leaven, 
 And make it simply Thine. 
 
 Lazaret, Malta. January 16, 1833. 
 
THE CALL OF DAVID. 99 
 
 LYII. 
 
 THE CALL OF DAYXD. 
 
 4 And the Lord said, Arise, anoint him, for this is he/' 
 
 Latest born of Jesse's race, 
 Wonder lights thy bashful face, 
 While the Prophet's gifted oil 
 Seals thee for a path of toil. 
 We, thy Angels, circling round thee, 
 Ne'er shall find thee as we found thee, 
 When thy faith first brought us near 
 To quell the lion and the bear. 
 
 Go ! and mid thy flocks awhile 
 At thy doom of greatness smile ; 
 Bold to bear God's heaviest load, 
 Dimly guessing of the road, — 
 h 2 
 
100 THE CALL OF DAVID. 
 
 Rocky road, and scarce ascended, 
 Though thy foot be angel-tended. 
 
 Twofold praise thou shalt attain, 
 In royal court and battle plain ; 
 Then conies heart-ache, care, distress, 
 Blighted hope, and loneliness ; 
 Wounds from friend and gifts from foe, 
 Dizzied faith, and guilt, and woe ; 
 Loftiest aims by earth defiled, 
 Gleams of wisdom sin-beguiled, 
 Sated power's tyrannic mood, 
 Counsels shared with men of blood, 
 Sad success, parental tears, 
 And a dreary gift of years. 
 
 Strange, that guileless face and form 
 To lavish on the scarring storm ! 
 Yet we take thee in thy blindness, 
 And we buffet thee in kindness ; 
 Little chary of thy fame, — 
 Dust unborn may bless or blame, — 
 
THE CALL OF DAYID. 101 
 
 But we mould thee for the root 
 Of man's promised healing Fruit, 
 And we mould thee hence to rise, 
 As our brother, to the skies. 
 
 Lazaret, Malta. January 18, 1833. 
 
102 A BLIGHT. 
 
 LYIII. 
 
 A BLIGHT. 
 
 What time my heart unfolded its fresh leaves 
 In springtime gay, and scatter' d flowers around, 
 A whisper warn'd of earth's unhealthy ground, 
 And all that there love's light and pureness grieves ; 
 Sun's ray and canker-worm, 
 And sudden- whelming storm ; — 
 But, ah ! my self-will smiled, nor reck'd the gracious 
 sound. 
 
 So now defilement dims life's memory-springs ; 
 I cannot hear an eariy-cherish'd strain, 
 But first a joy, and then it brings a pain — 
 Fear, and self-hate, and vain remorseful stings : 
 Tears lull my grief to rest, 
 Not without hope, this breast 
 May one day lose its load, and youth yet bloom 
 again. 
 
 Lazaret, Malta. January 19, 1833. 
 
JOSEPH. 103 
 
 LIX. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 pubest Symbol of the Eternal Son ! 
 
 Who dwelt in thee, as in some sacred shrine, 
 To draw hearts after thee, and make them thine ; 
 Not parent only by that light was won, 
 And brethren crouch'd who had in wrath begun, 
 But heathen pomp abased her as the sign 
 Of a hid God, and drank the sound divine, 
 Till a king heard, and all thou bad'st was done. 
 Then was fulfill'd Nature's dim augury, 
 That "Wisdom, clad in visible form, would be 
 So fair, that all must love and bow the knee ;" 
 Lest it might seem, what time the Substance came, 
 Truth lack'd a sceptre, when It but laid by 
 Its beaming front, and bore a willing shame. 
 
 Lazaret, Malta. January 20 1833. 
 
104 ISAAC. 
 
 LX. 
 
 ISAAC. 
 
 Makt the guileless years the Patriarch spent, 
 Bless'd in the wife a father's foresight chose ; 
 Many the prayers and gracious deeds, which rose 
 
 Daily thank-offerings from his pilgrim tent. 
 
 Yet these, though written in the heavens, are rent 
 From out truth's lower roll, which sternly shows 
 But one sad trespass at his history's close, 
 
 Father's, son's, mother's, and its punishment. 
 
 Not in their brightness, but their earthly stains 
 
 Are the true seed vouchsafed to earthly eyes. 
 
 Sin can read sin, but dimly scans high grace, 
 
 So we move heavenward with averted face, 
 
 Scared into faith by warning of sin's pains ; 
 
 And Saints are lowered, that the world may rise. 
 
 Valletta. January 23, 1833. 
 
REVERSES. 105 
 
 LXI. 
 
 EEYEESES. 
 
 WnE]sr mirth is full and free, 
 Some sudden gloom shall be ; 
 When haughty power mounts high, 
 The Watcher's axe is nigh. 
 All growth has bound ; when greatest found, 
 It hastes to die. 
 
 When the rich town, that long 
 Has lain its huts among, 
 Uprears its pageants vast, 
 And vaunts — it shall not last ! 
 Bright tints that shine, are but a sign 
 Of summer past. 
 
 And when thine eye surveys, 
 With fond adoring gaze, 
 
106 EEVEESES. 
 
 And yearning heart, thy friend — 
 Love to its grave doth tend. 
 All gifts below, save Truth, but grow 
 Towards an end. 
 
 Valletta. January 30, 1833. 
 
HOPE, 107 
 
 LXII. 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 We are not children of a guilty sire, 
 
 Since Noe stepp'd from out his wave-toss'd 
 home, 
 
 And a stern baptism flush'd earth's faded bloom. 
 Not that the heavens then clear'd, or cherub's fire 
 From Eden's portal did at once retire ; 
 
 But thoughts were stirr'd of Him who was to 
 come, 
 
 Whose rainbow hues so streak'd the o'ershadow- 
 ing gloom, 
 That faith could e'en that desolate scene admire. 
 The Lord has come and gone ; and now we wait 
 The second substance of the deluge type, 
 When our slight ark shall cross a molten surge ; 
 So, while the gross earth melts, for judgment ripe, 
 Ne'er with its haughty turrets to emerge, 
 We shall mount up to Eden's long-lost gate. 
 
 Valletta. February 5, 1833. 
 
108 ST. PAUL AT MELITA. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 ST. PAUL AT MELITA. 
 
 And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid 
 them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat." 
 
 Secuee in his prophetic strength, 
 
 The water peril o'er, 
 The many- gifted man at length 
 
 Stepp'd on the promised shore. 
 
 He trod the shore ; but not to rest, 
 
 Nor wait till Angels came ; 
 Lo ! humblest pains the Saint attest, 
 
 The firebrands and the flame. 
 
 But, when he felt the viper's smart, 
 
 Then instant aid was given ; 
 Christian ! hence learn to do thy part, 
 
 And leave the rest to Heaven. 
 
 Messina. February 8, 1833. 
 
MESSINA. 109 
 
 LXIT. 
 
 MESSINA. 
 
 " Homo sum ; humani nil a me alienum puto." 
 
 Why, wedded to the Lord, still yearns my heart 
 Towards these scenes of ancient heathen fame ? 
 Yet legend hoar, and voice of bard that came 
 Fixing my restless youth with its sweet art, 
 And shades of power, and those who bore a part 
 In the mad deeds that set the world in flame, 
 So fret my memory here, — ah ! is it blame ? — - 
 That from my eyes the tear is fain to start. 
 Nay, from no fount impure these drops arise ; 
 *Tis but that sympathy with Adam's race 
 "Which in each brother's history reads its own. 
 So let the cliffs and seas of this fair place 
 Be named man's tomb and splendid record stone, 
 High hope, pride-stain'd, the course without the 
 prize. 
 
 Messina, February 9, 1833. 
 
110 WARNINGS. 
 
 LXY. 
 
 WARNINGS. 
 
 When Heaven sends sorrow, 
 Warnings go first, 
 Lest it should burst 
 With stunning might 
 On souls too bright 
 
 To fear the morrow. 
 
 Can science bear us 
 
 To the hid springs 
 Of human things ? 
 Why may not dream, 
 Or thought's day-gleam, 
 Startle, yet cheer us ? 
 
 Are such thoughts fetters, 
 
 While Faith disowns 
 Dread of earth's tones, 
 Recks but Heaven's call, 
 And on the wall 
 
 Reads but Heaven's letters ? 
 
 Between Calatafimi and Palermo. Feb. 12, 1833. 
 
DKEAMS. Ill 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 DBEAMS. 
 
 Oh ! miserable power 
 To dreams allow'd, to raise the guilty past, 
 And back awhile the illumined spirit to cast 
 
 On its youth's twilight hour ; 
 In mockery guiling it to act again 
 The revel or the scoff in Satan's frantic train ! 
 
 Nay, hush thee, angry heart ! 
 An Angel's grief ill fits a penitent ; 
 Welcome the thorn — it is divinely sent, 
 
 And with its wholesome smart 
 Shall pierce thee in thy virtue's palmy home, 
 And warn thee what thou art, and whence thy 
 
 wealth has come, 
 
 JPcestum. February 26, 1833. 
 
112 TEMPTATION. 
 
 
 LXYII. 
 
 TEMPTATION. 
 
 holt Lord, who with the Children Three 
 
 Didst walk the piercing flame, 
 Help, in those trial-hours, which, save to Thee, 
 
 I dare not name ; 
 Nor let these quivering eyes and sickening heart 
 Crumble to dust beneath the Tempter's dart. 
 
 Thou, who didst once Thy life from Mary's breast 
 
 Renew from day to day, 
 might her smile, severely sweet, but rest 
 
 On this frail clay ! 
 Till I am Thine with my whole soul ; and fear, 
 Not feel a secret joy, that Hell is near. 
 
 Frascati. March 28, 1833. 
 
OUR FUTURE. 113 
 
 LXTIII. 
 
 OUE FUTUBE. 
 
 " What I do, thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know 
 hereafter." 
 
 Did we but see, 
 When life first open'd, how our journey lay 
 Between its earliest and its closing day, 
 
 Or view ourselves, as we one time shall be, 
 Who strive for the high prize, such sight would 
 
 break 
 The youthful spirit, though bold for Jesus' sake. 
 
 But Thou, dear Lord ! 
 Whilst I traced out bright scenes which were to 
 
 come, 
 Isaac's pure blessings, and a verdant home, 
 
 Didst spare me, and withhold Thy fearful word ; 
 Wiling me year by year, till I am found 
 A pilgrim pale, with Paul's sad girdle bound. 
 
 Tre Fontane. April 2, 1833. 
 
 I 
 
114 HEATHENISM. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 HEATHENISM. 
 
 Mid Balak's magic fires 
 The Spirit spake, clear as in Israel ; 
 With prayers untrue and covetous desires 
 
 Did Grod vouchsafe to dwell ; 
 Who summon' d dreams, His earlier word to bring 
 To patient Job's vex'd friends, and Grerar's guileless 
 king. 
 
 If such o'erflowing grace 
 From Aaron's vest e'en on the Sibyl ran, 
 Why should we fear, the Son now lacks His place 
 
 Where roams unchristen'd man ? 
 As though, when faith is keen, He cannot make 
 Bread of the very stones, or thirst with ashes slake. 
 
 Messina. April 21, 1833. 
 
TAOEMINI. 115 
 
 LXX. 
 
 TAOKMINI. 
 
 * And Jacob went on his way, and the Angels of God met 
 him." 
 
 Sat, hast thou track'd a traveller's round, 
 
 Nor visions met thee there, 
 Thou couldst but marvel to have found 
 
 This blighted world so fair ? 
 
 And feel an awe within thee rise, 
 
 That sinful man should see 
 Grlories far worthier Seraph's eyes 
 
 Than to be shared by thee ? 
 
 Store them in heart ! thou shalt not faint 
 
 'Mid coming pains and fears, 
 As the third heaven once nerved a Saint 
 
 For fourteen trial-years. 
 
 Mag nisi. April 26, 1833. 
 
 i 2 
 
116 RELICS OF SAINTS. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 EELICS OF SAINTS, 
 
 " He is not the God of the dead, but of the living ; for all live 
 unto Him/' 
 
 " The Fathers are in dust, yet live to God :" — 
 So says the Truth ; as if the motionless clay 
 
 Still held the seeds of life beneath the sod, 
 
 Smouldering and struggling till the judgment- 
 day. 
 
 And hence we learn with reverence to esteem 
 Of these frail houses, though the grave confines ; 
 
 Sophist may urge his cunning tests, and deem 
 That they are earth ; — but they are heavenly 
 shrines. 
 
 Palermo. June 1, 1833. 
 
DAY-LABOUBEKS. 117 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 DAY-LABOUEEKS. 
 
 " And He said, It is finished." 
 
 One only, of God's messengers to man, 
 Finish'd the work of grace, which He began ; 
 E'en Moses wearied upon Nebo's height, 
 
 Though loth to leave the fight 
 With the doom'd foe, and yield the sun-bright land 
 
 To Joshua's armed hand. 
 
 And David wrought in turn a strenuous part, 
 Zeal for God's house consuming him in heart ; 
 And yet he might not build, but only bring 
 
 Gifts for the Heavenly King ; 
 And these another rear'd, his peaceful son, 
 
 Till the full work was done. 
 
 List, Christian warrior ! thou, whose soul is fain 
 To rid thy Mother of her present chain ; — 
 
118 DAY-LABOURERS. 
 
 Christ will avenge His Bride ; yea, even now 
 
 Begins the work, and thou 
 Shalt spend in it thy strength, but, ere He save, 
 
 Thy lot shall be the grave. 
 
 Palermo. June 2, 1833. 
 
WAEFABE. 119 
 
 LXXIIJ. 
 
 WAEFAEE. 
 
 " Freely ye have received ; freely give." 
 
 " Give any boon for peace ! 
 Why should our fair-eyed Mother e'er engage 
 In the world's course and on a troubled stage, 
 From which her very call is a release ? 
 
 No ! in thy garden stand, 
 
 And tend with pious hand 
 
 The flowers thou plantest there, 
 
 Which are thy proper care, 
 man of God ! in meekness and in love, 
 And waiting for the blissful realms above." 
 
 Alas ! for thou must learn, 
 Thou guileless one ! rough is the holy hand ; 
 Euns not the Word of Truth through every land, 
 A sword to sever, and a fire to burn ? 
 
120 WARFAEE. 
 
 If blessed Paul had stay'd 
 
 In cot or learned shade, 
 
 With the priest's white attire, 
 
 And the Saints' tuneful choir, 
 Men had not gnash' d their teeth, nor risen to slay, 
 But thou hadst been a heathen in thy day. 
 
 Palermo. June 3, 1833. 
 
SACRILEGE. 121 
 
 LXXIY. 
 
 SACRILEGE. 
 
 The Church shone brightly in her youthful days 
 
 Ere the world on her smiled ; 
 So now, an outcast, she would pour her rays 
 
 Keen, free, and un denied : 
 Yet would I not that arm of force were mine, 
 Which thrusts her from her awful ancient shrine. 
 
 'Twas duty bound each convert-king to rear 
 
 His Mother from the dust, 
 And pious was it to enrich, nor fear 
 
 Christ for the rest to trust ; 
 And who shall dare make common or unclean 
 What once has on the Holy Altar been ? 
 
 Dear brothers ! — -hence, while ye for ill prepare, 
 
 Triumph is still your own ; 
 Blest is a pilgrim Church ! — yet shrink to share 
 
 The curse of throwing down. 
 So will we toil in our old place to stand, 
 Watching, not dreading, the despoiler's hand. 
 
 Palermo. June 4, 1833. 
 
122 LIEEEALISM. 
 
 LXXY, 
 
 LIBEEALISM. 
 
 " Jehu destroyed Baal out of Israel. Howbeit from the sins of 
 Jeroboam Jehu departed not from after them, to wit, the 
 golden calves that were in Bethel, and that were in Dan." 
 
 Ye cannot halve the Gospel of God's grace ; 
 
 Men of presumptuous heart ! I know you well. 
 
 Ye are of those who plan that we should dwell, 
 Each in his tranquil home and holy place ; 
 Seeing the Word refines all natures rude, 
 And tames the stirrings of the multitude. 
 
 And ye have caught some echoes of its lore, 
 As heralded amid the joyous choirs ; 
 Ye mark'd it spoke of peace, chastised desires, 
 
 Good- will and mercy, — and ye heard no more ; 
 
 But, as for zeal and quick-eyed sanctity, 
 
 And the dread depths of grace, ye pass'd them by. 
 
LIBEKALISM. 123 
 
 And so ye halve the Truth ; for ye in heart, 
 At best, are doubters whether it be true, 
 The theme discarding, as unmeet for you, 
 Statesmen or Sages. new-encompass'd art 
 Of the ancient Foe ! — but what, if it extends 
 O'er our own camp, and rules amid our friends ? 
 
 Palermo. June 5, 1833. 
 
124 DECLENSION. 
 
 LXXYI. 
 
 DECLENSION. 
 
 When I am sad, I say, 
 
 " What boots it me to strive, 
 And vex my spirit day by day, 
 
 Dead memories to revive ? 
 
 " Alas ! what good will come, 
 
 Though we our prayer obtain, 
 To bring old times triumphant home, 
 And wandering flocks regain ? 
 
 " Would not our history run 
 In the same weary round, 
 And service in meek faith begun, 
 At length in forms be bound ? 
 
 " Union would give us strength — 
 That strength the earth subdue ; 
 And then comes wealth, and pride at length, 
 And sloth, and prayers untrue." 
 
DECLENSION. 125 
 
 Nay, this is worldly-wise ; 
 
 To reason is a crime, 
 Since the Lord bade His Church arise, 
 
 In the dark ancient time. 
 
 He wills that she should shine ; 
 
 So we her flame must trim 
 Around His soul-converting Sign, 
 
 And leave the rest to Him. 
 
 Palermo. June 6, 1833. 
 
126 THE AGE TO COME. 
 
 LXXYII. 
 
 THE AGE TO COME. 
 
 Whek I would search the truths that in me burn, 
 And mould them into rule and argument, 
 
 A hundred reasoners cried, — " Hast thou to learn 
 Those dreams are scatter'd now, those fires are 
 spent ?" 
 
 And, did I mount to simpler thoughts, and try 
 
 Some theme of peace, 'twas still the same reply. 
 
 Perplex' d, I hoped my heart was pure of guile, 
 But judged me weak in wit, to disagree ; 
 
 But now, I see that men are mad awhile, 
 
 And joy the Age to come will think with me : — 
 
 'Tis the old history — Truth without a home, 
 
 Despised and slain, then rising from the tomb. 
 
 Palermo. June 9> 1833. 
 
EXTERNAL RELIGION. 127 
 
 LXXYIII. 
 
 EXTEE1STAL EELIGION. 
 
 When first earth's rulers welcomed home 
 
 The Church, their zeal impress'd 
 Upon the seasons, as they come, 
 
 The image of their guest. 
 
 Men's words and works, their hopes and fears, 
 
 Henceforth forbid to rove, 
 Paused, when a Martyr claim'd her tears, 
 
 Or Saint inspired her love. 
 
 But craving wealth, and feverish power, 
 
 Such service now discard ; 
 The loss of one excited hour 
 
 A sacrifice too hard ! 
 
 And e'en ahout the holiest day, 
 
 God's own in every time, 
 They doubt and search, lest ought should stay 
 
 The cataract of crime. 
 
128 EXTERNAL RELIGION. 
 
 Where shall this cease? must crosiers fall, 
 
 Shrines suffer touch profane, 
 Till, cast without His vineyard wall, 
 
 The Heaven-sent Heir is slain ? 
 
 Palermo. June 11, 1833. 
 
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZE1N". 129 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 ST. GEEGOEY NAZIANZEN. 
 
 Peace-loving man, of humble heart and true! 
 
 What dost thou here ? 
 Fierce is the city's crowd ; the lordly few 
 
 Are dull of ear ! 
 Sore pain it was to thee, — till thou didst quit 
 Thy patriarch-throne at length, as though for power 
 unfit. 
 
 So works the All- wise ! our services dividing 
 
 Not as we ask : 
 For the world's profit, by our gifts deciding 
 
 Our duty-task. 
 See in king's courts loth Jeremias plead ; 
 And slow-tongued Moses rule by eloquence of deed ! 
 
 K 
 
130 ST. GREGORY ^AZIA^ZEF. 
 
 Tes ! thou, bright Angel of the East ! didst rear 
 
 The Cross divine, 
 Borne high upon thy liquid accents, where 
 
 Men mock'd the Sign ; 
 Till that cold city heard thy battle-cry, 
 And hearts were stirr'd, and deem'd a Pentecost 
 was nigh. 
 
 Thou couldst a people raise, but couldst not rule : — 
 
 So, gentle one, 
 Heaven set thee free, — for, ere thy years were full, 
 
 Thy work was done ; 
 According thee the lot thou lovedst best, 
 To muse upon the past, — to serve, yet be at rest. 
 
 Palermo. June 12, 1833. 
 
THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 13 L 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 
 
 Oh that thy creed were sound ! ! 
 For thou dost soothe the heart, ThouChurch of Rome, 
 
 By thy unwearied watch and varied round 
 Of service, in thy Saviour's holy home. 
 I cannot walk the city's sultry streets, 
 But the wide porch invites to still retreats, 
 Where passion's thirst is calm'd, and care's un- 
 thankful gloom. 
 
 There, on a foreign shore, 
 The homesick solitary finds a friend : 
 
 Thoughts, prison'd long for lack of speech, out- 
 pour 
 Their tears ; and doubts in resignation end. 
 
 1 Of course this is the exclamation of one who was not in 
 Catholic Communion. 
 
 E 2 
 
132 THE GOOD SAMAEITAK. 
 
 I almost fainted from the long delay- 
 That tangles me within this languid bay, 
 When comes a foe, my wounds with oil and wine 
 to tend. 
 
 Palermo. June 13, 1833. 
 
THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD. 133 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 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 pray'd 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. 
 
134 THE PILLAE OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 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. 
 
 At Sea. June 16, 1833. 
 
jonas. 135 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 JONAS. 
 
 f But Jonah rose up to flee unto Tarshish, from the presence 
 of the Lord." 
 
 Deep in his meditative bower, 
 
 The tranquil seer reclined ; 
 Numbering the creepers of an hour, 
 
 The gourds which o'er him twined. 
 
 To note each plant, to rear each fruit 
 Which soothes the languid sense, 
 
 He deem'd a safe, refined pursuit, — 
 His Lord, an indolence. 
 
 The sudden voice was heard at length, 
 " Lift thou the prophet's rod !" 
 
 But sloth had sapp'd the prophet's strength, 
 He fear'd, and fled from God. 
 
136 jonas. 
 
 Next, by a fearful judgment tamed, 
 
 He threats the offending race ; 
 God spares ; — he murmurs, pride-inflamed, 
 
 His threat made void by grace. 
 
 What ? — pride and sloth ! man's worst of foes ! 
 
 And can such guests invade 
 Our choicest bliss, the green repose 
 
 Of the sweet garden-shade ? 
 
 Off Sardinia. • June 18, 1833. 
 
FAITH AGAINST SIGHT. 137 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 FAITH AGAINST SIGHT. 
 
 " As it was in the days of Lot, so shall it be also in the day 
 of the Son of Man." 
 
 The world has cycles in its course, when all 
 That once has been, is acted o'er again : — 
 
 Not by some fated law, which need appal 
 
 Our faith, or binds our deeds as with a chain ; 
 
 But by men's separate sins, which blended still 
 The same bad round fulfil. 
 
 Then fear ye not, though Gallio's scorn ye see, 
 
 And soft-clad nobles count you mad, true hearts ! 
 These are the fig-tree's signs ; — rough deeds must 
 be, 
 Trials and crimes : so learn ye well your parts. 
 Once more to plough the earth it is decreed, 
 And scatter wide the seed. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 18, 1833. 
 
138 DESOLATION. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 DESOLATION. 
 
 say not thou art left of God, 
 Because His tokens in the sky 
 
 Thou canst not read : this earth He trod 
 To teach thee He was ever nigh. 
 
 He sees, beneath the fig-tree green, 
 Nathaniel con His sacred lore ; 
 
 Shouldst thou thy chamber seek, unseen, 
 He enters through the unopen'd door. 
 
 And when thou liest, by slumber bound, 
 Outwearied in the Christian fight, 
 
 In glory, girt with Saints around, 
 
 He stands above thee through the night. 
 
 When friends to Emmaus bend their course, 
 He joins, although He holds their eyes : 
 
 Or, shouldst thou feel some fever's force, 
 He takes thy hand, He bids thee rise. 
 
DESOLATION. 139 
 
 Or on a voyage, when calms prevail, 
 
 And prison thee upon the sea, 
 He walks the wave, He wings the sail, 
 
 The shore is gain'd, and thou art free. 
 
 Off Sardinia, June 18, 1833. 
 
140 ZEAL AND PATIENCE. 
 
 LXXXY. 
 
 ZEAL AND PATIENCE. 
 
 " I, Paul, the prisoner of the Lord." 
 
 comrade bold, of toil and pain ! 
 
 Thy trial how severe, 
 When sever' d first by prisoner's chain 
 
 Prom thy loved labour-sphere ! 
 
 Say, did impatience first impel 
 The heaven-sent bond to break ? 
 
 Or, could st thou bear its hindrance well, 
 Loitering for Jesu's sake ? 
 
 might we know ! for sore we feel 
 
 The languor of delay, 
 When sickness lets our fainter zeal, 
 
 Or foes block up our way. 
 
ZEAL AND PATIENCE. 141 
 
 Lord ! who Thy thousand years dost wait 
 
 To work the thousandth part 
 Of Thy vast plan, for us create 
 
 With zeal a patient heart. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 19, 1833. 
 
142 THE RELIGION OP CAIN. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 THE KELIGION OF CAIN. 
 
 " Am I my brother's keeper ?" 
 
 The time has been, it seem'd a precept plain 
 
 Of the true faith, Christ's tokens to display ; 
 And in life's commerce still the thought retain, 
 That men have souls, and wait a judgment- 
 day ; 
 Kings used their gifts as ministers of heaven, 
 Nor stripp'd their zeal for God, of m^ans which 
 God had given. 
 
 'Tis alter'd now ; — for Adam's eldest born 
 Has train'd our practice in a selfish rule, 
 
 Each stands alone, Christ's bonds asunder tern ; 
 Each has his private thought, selects his school, 
 
 Conceals his creed, and lives in closest tie 
 Of fellowship with those who count it blasphemy. 
 
THE RELIGION OF CAIN. 143 
 
 Brothers! spare reasoning; — men have settled 
 long 
 That ye are out of date, and they are wise ; 
 Use their own weapons ; let your words be 
 strong, 
 Your cry be loud, till each scared boaster flies ; 
 Thus the Apostles tamed the pagan breast, 
 They argued not, but preach' d ; and conscience did 
 the rest. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 19, 1833. 
 
144 ST. PAUL. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 ST. PAUL. 
 
 I deeam'd that, with a passionate complaint, 
 I wish'd me born amid Grod's deeds of might ; 
 And envied those who had the presence bright 
 Of gifted Prophet and strong-hearted Saint, 
 Whom nry heart loves, and Fancy strives to paint. 
 I turn'd, when straight a stranger met my sight, 
 Came as my guest, and did awhile unite 
 His lot with mine, and lived without restraint. 
 Courteous he was, and grave, — so meek in mien. 
 It seem'd untrue, or told a purpose weak ; 
 Yet, in the mood, he could with aptness speak, 
 Or with stern force, or show of feelings keen, 
 Marking deep craft, methought, or hidden pride : — 
 Then came a voice, — " St. Paul is at thy side." 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 20, 1833. 
 
ELOWERS WITHOUT EltTJIT. 145 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 FLOWEKS WITHOUT FKUIT. 
 
 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 weigh'd, 
 
 Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, 
 Which bloom their hour and fade. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 20, 1833. 
 
L46 zeal a^d meekness. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 ZEAL AND MEEKNESS. 
 
 Cheist bade His followers take the sword ; 
 
 And yet He chid the deed, 
 When hasty Peter seized His word, 
 
 And made a foe to bleed. 
 
 The gospel Creed, a sword of strife, 
 
 Meek hands alone may rear; 
 And ever Zeal begins its life 
 
 In silent thought and fear. 
 
 Ye, who would weed the Vineyard's soil, 
 
 Treasure the lesson given ; 
 Lest in the judgment-books ye toil 
 
 For Satan, not for heaven. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 20, 1833. 
 
VEXATIONS. 147 
 
 xc. 
 
 VEXATIONS. 
 
 Each trial has its weight ; which, whoso bears 
 Knows his own woe, and need of succouring 
 
 grace ; 
 The martyr's hope half wipes away the trace 
 Of flowing blood ; the while life's humblest cares 
 Smart more, because they hold in Holy Writ no 
 place. 
 
 This be my comfort, in these days of grief, 
 
 Which is not Christ's, nor forms heroic 
 
 tale. 
 Apart from Him, if not a sparrow fail, 
 May not He pitying view, and send relief 
 When foes or friends perplex, and peevish thoughts 
 prevail ? 
 
 l 2 
 
148 YEXATIONS. 
 
 Then keep good heart, nor take the niggard 
 course 
 Of Thomas, who must see ere he would trust. 
 Faith will fill up God's word, not poorly just 
 To the bare letter, heedless of its force, 
 But*walking by its light amid earth's sun and dust. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 21, 1833. 
 
THE CHURCH IK PRATER. 149 
 
 XCI. 
 
 THE CHURCH m PRAYER. 
 
 Why loiterest within Simon's walls, 
 
 Hard by the barren sea, 
 Thou Saint ! when many a sinner calls 
 
 To preach and set him free ? 
 
 Can this be he, who erst confess' d 
 
 For Christ affection keen, 
 Now truant in untimely rest, 
 
 The mood of an Essene ? 
 
 Yet he who at the sixth hour sought 
 
 The lone house-top to pray, 
 There gain'd a sight beyond his thought, 
 
 The dawn of Gentile day. 
 
150 THE CHTJECH I"N" PEATER. 
 
 Then reckon not, when perils lour, 
 The time of prayer mis-spent ; 
 
 Nor meanest chance, nor place, nor hour, 
 Without its heavenward bent. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 21, 1833. 
 
THE WEATH TO COME. 151 
 
 XCII. 
 
 THE WEATH TO COME. 
 
 " From His mouth came ont a sharp two-edged sword." 
 
 When first God stirr'd me, and the Church's word 
 Came as a theme of reverent search and fear, 
 It little cost to own the lustre clear 
 
 O'er rule she taught, and rite, and doctrine pour'd ; 
 
 For conscience craved, and reason did accord. 
 Yet one there was that wore a mien austere, 
 And I did doubt, and, troubled, ask'd to hear 
 
 Whose mouth had force to edge so sharp a sword. 
 
 My mother oped her trust, the holy Book ; 
 
 And heal'd my pang. She pointed, and I found 
 
 Christ on Himself, considerate Master, took 
 
 The utterance of that doctrine's fearful sound. 
 
 The Fount of Love His servants sends to tell 
 
 Love's deeds; Himself reveals the sinner's hell. 
 
 Off Sardinia. June 21, 1833. 
 
152 PUSILLANIMITY. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 PUSILLANIMITY. 
 
 " I have need to be baptized of Thee, and coinest Thou to 
 me?" 
 
 How didst thou start, Thou Holy Baptist, bid 
 To pour repentance on the Sinless Brow ! 
 
 Then all thy meekness, from thy hearers hid, 
 Beneath the Ascetic's port, and Preacher's fire, 
 
 Flow'd forth, and with a pang thou didst desire 
 He might be chief, not thou. 
 
 And so on us at whiles it falls, to claim 
 
 Powers that we dread, or dare some forward part ; 
 
 ~Nor must we shrink as cravens from the blame 
 Of pride, in common eyes, or purpose deep ; 
 
 But with pure thoughts look up to Grod, and keep 
 Our secret in our heart. 
 
 At Sea. June 22, 1833. 
 
JAMES AND JOHN. 153 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 JAMES AND JOHN. 
 
 Two brothers freely cast their lot 
 With David's royal Son ; 
 
 The cost of conquest counting not, 
 They deem the battle won. 
 
 Brothers in heart, they hope to gain 
 
 An undivided joy ; 
 That man may one with man remain, 
 
 As boy was one with boy. 
 
 Christ heard; and will'd that James should 
 fall, 
 
 First prey of Satan's rage ; 
 John linger, out his fellows all, 
 
 And die in bloodless age. 
 
154 JAMES AKD JOHN. 
 
 Now they join hands once more above, 
 Before the Conqueror's throne ; 
 
 Thus God grants prayer, but in His love 
 Makes times and ways His own. 
 
 At Sea. June 22, 1833. 
 
HOEA NOVTSSIMA. 155 
 
 XCV. 
 
 HORA NOVISSIMA. 
 
 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 grant me or deny. 
 
 But let my failing limbs beneath 
 
 My Mother's smile recline ; 
 And prayers sustain my labouring breath 
 
 From out her sacred shrine. 
 
 And let the Cross beside my bed 
 
 In its due emblems rest ; 
 And let the absolving words be said, 
 
 To ease a laden breast. 
 
156 HOUA NOYISSIMA. 
 
 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. 
 
 At Sea. June 22, 1833 
 
PKOGEESS Or UNBELIEF. 157 
 
 XCYI. 
 
 PROGRESS OF UNBELIEF. 
 
 Now is the Autumn of the Tree of Life ; 
 
 Its leaves are shed upon the unthankful earth, 
 Which lets them whirl, a prey to the winds' strife, 
 
 Heartless to store them for the months of dearth. 
 
 Men close the door, and dress the cheerful hearth, 
 Self-trusting still ; and in his comely gear 
 Of precept and of rite, a household Baal rear. 
 
 But I will out amid the sleet, and view 
 
 Each shrivelling stalk and silent-falling leaf. 
 
 Truth after truth, of choicest scent and hue, 
 ' Fades, and in fading stirs the Angels' grief, 
 Unanswer'd here ; for she, once pattern chief 
 
 Of faith, my Country, now gross-hearted grown, 
 
 Waits but to burn the stem before her idol's throne. 
 
 At Sea. June 23, 1833. 
 
158 CONSOLATION. 
 
 XCYII. 
 
 CONSOLATION. 
 
 "It is I; be not afraid." 
 
 When I sink down in gloom or fear, 
 
 Hope blighted or delay 'd, 
 Thy whisper, Lord, my heart shall cheer, 
 
 "'TisI; be not afraid!" 
 
 Or, startled at some sudden blow, 
 
 If fretful thoughts I feel, 
 " Fear not, it is but I !" shall flow, 
 
 As balm my wound to heal. 
 
 Nor will I quit Thy way, though foes 
 
 Some onward pass defend ; 
 From each rough voice the watchword goes, 
 
 " Be not afraid ! . . . a friend ! " 
 
COKSOLATIOK. 159 
 
 And ! when judgment's trumpet clear 
 
 Awakes me from the grave, 
 Still in its echo may I hear, 
 
 " 'Tis Christ ; He comes to save." 
 
 At Sea. June 23, 1833. 
 
160 T7ZZAH AND OBED-EDOM. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 UZZAH AND OBED-EDOM. 
 
 The ark of God has hidden strength ; 
 
 Who reverence or profane, 
 They, or their seed, shall find at length 
 
 The penalty or gain. 
 
 While as a sojourner it sought 
 
 Of old its destined place, 
 A blessing on the home it brought 
 
 Of one who did it grace. 
 
 But there was one, outstripping all 
 
 The holy-vestured band, 
 Who laid on it, to save its fall, 
 
 A rude corrective hand. 
 
 Bead, who the Church would cleanse, and mark 
 
 How stern the warning runs ; 
 There are two ways to aid her ark — 
 
 As patrons, and as sons. 
 
 At Sea. June 24, 1833. 
 
THE GIFT OF TONGUES. 161 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 THE GIFT OF TONGUES. 
 
 Once cast with men of language strange 
 
 And foreign-moulded creed, 
 I mark'd their random converse change, 
 
 And sacred themes succeed. 
 
 how I coveted the gift 
 
 To thread their mingled throng 
 
 Of sounds, then high my witness lift ! 
 But weakness chain' d my tongue. 
 
 Lord ! has our dearth of faith and prayer 
 Lost us this power once given, 
 
 Or is it sent at seasons rare 
 And then flits back to heaven ? 
 
 At Sea. June 24, 1833. 
 
 M 
 
162 THE POWER OE PRAYER. 
 
 THE POWEE OF PEAYEE. 
 
 There is not on the earth a soul so base 
 
 But may obtain a place 
 
 In covenanted grace ; 
 So that his feeble prayer of faith obtains 
 
 Some loosening of his chains, 
 And earnests of the great release, which rise 
 From gift to gift, and reach at length the eternal 
 prize. 
 
 All may save self; — but minds that heavenward 
 tower 
 
 Aim at a wider power, 
 
 Gifts on the world to shower. — 
 
 And this is not at once ; — by fastings gain'd, 
 And trials well sustain'd, 
 
 By pureness, righteous deeds, and toils of love, 
 
 Abidance in the Truth, and zeal for God above. 
 
 At Sea. June 24, 1833. 
 
SEMITA JTJSTORUM. 163 
 
 CI. 
 
 SEMITA JUSTOBTJM. 
 
 When I look back upon my former race, 
 Seasons I see, at which the Inward Kay 
 More brightly burn'd, or guided some new way ; 
 Truth, in its wealthier scene and nobler space 
 Given for my eye to range, and feet to trace. 
 And next I mark, 'twas trial did convey, 
 Or grief, or pain, or strange eventful day, 
 To my tormented soul such larger grace. 
 So now, whene'er, in journeying on, I feel 
 The shadow of the Providential Hand, 
 Deep breathless stirrings shoot across my breast, 
 Searching to know what He will now reveal, 
 "What sin uncloak, what stricter rule command, 
 And girding me to work His full behest. 
 
 At Sea. June 25, 1833. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 THE ELEMENTS. 
 
 CII. 
 
 THE ELEMENTS. 
 
 (A Tragic Chorus.) 
 
 Man is permitted much 
 To scan and learn 
 In Nature's frame ; 
 Till he well-nigh can tame 
 Brute mischiefs, and can touch 
 Invisible things, and turn 
 All warring ills to purposes of good. 
 Thus, as a god below, 
 He can control, 
 And harmonize, what seems amiss to flow 
 As sever' d from the whole 
 And dimly understood. 
 
 But o'er the elements 
 
 One Hand alone 
 
 One Hand has sway. 
 What influence day by day 
 In straiter belt prevents 
 The impious Ocean, thrown 
 
THE ELEMENTS. 165 
 
 Alternate o'er the ever- sounding shore? 
 
 Or who has eye to trace 
 How the Plague came ? 
 Forerun the doublings of the Tempest's race ? 
 
 Or the Air's weight and flame 
 
 On a set scale explore ? 
 
 Thus God has will'd 
 That man, when fully skill'd, 
 Still gropes in twilight dim ; 
 Encompass'd all his hours 
 
 By fearfullest powers 
 
 Inflexible to him. 
 That so he may discern 
 
 His feebleness, 
 And e'en for earth's success 
 
 To Him in wisdom turn, 
 Who holds for us the keys of either home, 
 Earth and the world to come. 
 
 At Sea. June 25, 1833. 
 
166 APOSTASY. 
 
 cm. 
 
 APOSTASY. 
 
 Feance ! I will think of thee as wjiat thou wast, 
 When Poictiers show'd her zeal for the true 
 creed ; 
 
 Or in that age, when Holy Truth, though cast 
 On a rank soil, yet was a thriving seed, 
 
 Thy schools within, from neighbouring countries 
 chased ; 
 E'en of thy pagan day I bear to read, 
 
 Thy Martyrs sanctified the guilty host, 
 
 The sons of blessed John, rear'd on a western coast. 
 
 I dare not think of thee as what thou art, 
 
 Lest thoughts too deep for man should trouble 
 me. 
 
 It is not safe to place the mind and heart 
 On brink of evil, or its flames to see, 
 
APOSTASY, 167 
 
 Lest they should dizzy, or some taint impart, 
 
 Or to our sin a fascination be. 
 And so in silence I will now proclaim 
 Hate of thy present self, and scarce will sound thy 
 
 Off the French coast. June 26, 1833. 
 
 1 This is not the language of one who knew any thing 
 rightly of that great Catholic and highly gifted people. 
 
168 JUDAISM. 
 
 CIY. 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 (A Tragic Chorus.) 
 piteous race ! 
 Fearful to look upon, 
 Once standing in high place, 
 Heaven's eldest son. 
 aged blind 
 Unvenerable ! as thou flittest by, 
 I liken thee to him in pagan song, 
 
 In thy gaunt majesty, 
 The vagrant King, of haughty-purposed mind 
 Whom prayer nor plague could bend 1 ; 
 Wrong'd, at the cost of him who did the wrong, 
 Accursed himself, but in his cursing strong, 
 And honour'd in his end. 
 
 1 Vide the (Edipus Coloneus of Sophocles. 
 
JUDAISM. 169 
 
 Abraham ! sire, 
 Shamed in thy progeny ; 
 Who to thy faith aspire, 
 Thy Hope deny. 
 Well wast thou given 
 From out the heathen an adopted heir, 
 Raised strangely from the dead, when sin had 
 slain 
 
 Thy former-cherish' d care. 
 holy men, ye first-wrought gems of heaven ! 
 Polluted in your kin, 
 Come to our fonts, your lustre to regain. 
 Holiest Lord ! . . . . but Thou canst take no stain 
 Of blood, or taint of sin. 
 
 Twice in their day 
 Proffer of precious cost 
 Was made, Heaven's hand to stay 
 Ere all was lost. 
 The first prevail' d ; 
 Moses was outcast from the promised home, 
 For his own sin, yet taken at his prayer 
 
 To change his people's doom. 
 Close on their eve, one other ask'd and fail'd ; 
 
170 JUDAISM. 
 
 When fervent Paul was fain 
 The accursed tree, as Christ had borne, to bear, 
 No hopeful answer came, — a Price more rare 
 
 Already shed in vain. 
 
 Off Marseilles Saviour. June 27, 1833. 
 
THE PEIESTLY OFFICE. 17 L 
 
 CY. 
 
 THE PEIESTLY OFFICE. 
 
 EKOM ST. GEE GOBY tfAZIAKZiN". 
 
 lis" service o'er the Mystic Feast I stand ; 
 
 I cleanse Thy victim-flock, and bring them near 
 In holiest wise, and by a bloodless rite. 
 O Fire of Love ! gushing Fount of Light ! 
 (As best I know, who need Thy cleansing Hand) 
 Dread office this, bemired souls to clear 
 
 Of their defilement, and again make bright. 
 
 Oxford. 1834. 
 
172 MORKING. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 MOKNING. 
 
 FROM ST. GREGOB.Y BTAZIANZEN. 
 
 I rise and raise my clasped hands to Thee ! 
 Henceforth, the darkness hath no part in me, 
 
 Thy sacrifice this day ; 
 Abiding firm, and with a freeman's might 
 Stemming the waves of passion in the fight j — 
 
 Ah, should I from Thee stray, 
 My hoary head, Thy table where I bow, 
 Will be my shame, which are mine honour now. 
 Thus I set out ; — Lord ! lead me on my way ! 
 
 Oxford. 1834. 
 
EVEJSTNG. 173 
 
 CYII. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 FROM ST. GEEGORT ^AZIANZEK. 
 
 Holiest Truth ! how have I lied to Thee ! 
 
 1 vow'd this day Thy sacrifice to be ; 
 
 But I am dim ere night. 
 Surely I made my prayer, and I did deem 
 That I could keep in me Thy morning beam, 
 
 Immaculate and bright. 
 But my foot slipp'd ; and, as I lay, he came, 
 My gloomy foe, and robb'd me of heaven's flame. 
 Help Thou my darkness, Lord, till I am light. 
 
 Oxford, 1834. 
 
174 A. HERMITAGE. 
 
 CYITI. 
 
 A HEBMITAGE. 
 
 PROM ST. GREGORY NAZIAETZEN. 
 
 Some one whisper'd yesterday, 
 Of the rich and fashionable, 
 
 Gregory in his own small way 
 Easy was and comfortable. 
 
 Had he not of wealth his fill 
 Whom a garden gay did bless, 
 
 And a gently trickling rill, 
 And the sweets of idleness ? 
 
 I made answer : — " Is it ease 
 Fasts to keep and tears to shed, 
 
 Vigil hours and wounded knees, 
 Call you these a pleasant bed?" 
 
A HERMITAGE. 175 
 
 Thus a veritable monk 
 
 Does to death his fleshly frame ; 
 
 Be there who in sloth are sunk, 
 They have forfeited the name. 
 
 Oxford, 1834. 
 
176 THE MARRIED A]ST> THE SINGLE. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 THE MAEEIED AND THE SINGLE. 
 
 A FRAGMENT FROM ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 
 
 As, when the hand some mimic form would paint. 
 It marks its purpose first in shadows faint, 
 And next, its store of varied hues applies, 
 Till outlines fade, and the full limbs arise ; 
 So in the earlier school of sacred lore 
 The Virgin-life no claim of honour bore, 
 "While in Eeligion's youth the Law held sway, 
 And traced in symbols dim that better way. 
 But, when the Christ came by a Virgin-birth, — 
 His radiant passage from high heaven to earth, — 
 And, spurning father for His mortal state, 
 Did Eve and all her daughters consecrate, 
 Solved fleshly laws, and in the letter's place 
 Gave us the Spirit and the Word of Grace, 
 Then shone the glorious Celibate at length, 
 Eobed in the dazzling lightnings of its strength, 
 
THE MAEEIED AND THE SINGLE. 177 
 
 Surpassing gifts of eartli and marriage vow, 
 As soul the body, heaven this world below, 
 The eternal peace of saints life's troubled span, 
 And the high throne of God the haunts of man. 
 So now there circles round the King of Light 
 A heaven on earth, a blameless court 1 and bright, 
 Aiming as emblems of their God to shine, 
 Christ in their heart, and on their brow His Sign,— 
 Soft funeral lights in the world's twilight dim, 
 Loving their God, and ever loved by Him. 
 
 Ye countless multitudes, content to bow 
 To the soft thraldom of the marriage vow ! 
 I mark your haughty step, your fro ward gaze, 
 Gems deck your hair, and silk your limbs arrays ; 
 Come, tell the gain which wedlock has conferr'd 
 On man • and then the single shall be heard. 
 
 The married many thus might plead, I wean ; 
 Eight glib their tongue, full confident their mien : — 
 " Hear all who live ! to whom the nuptial rite 
 Has brought the privilege of life and light. 
 We, who are wedded, but the law obey 
 Stamp' d at creation on our blood and clay, 
 
178 THE MAEEIED AND THE SINGLE. 
 
 What time the Demiurge our line began, 
 Oped Adam's side, and out of man drew man. 
 Thenceforth let children of a mortal sod 
 Honour the law of earth, the primal law of God. 
 
 " List, you shall hear the gifts of price that lie 
 Gather'd and bound within the marriage-tie. 
 What taught the arts of life, the truths that sleep 
 In earth, or highest heaven, or vasty deep ? 
 What filPd the mart, and urged the vessel brave 
 To link in one fair countries o'er the wave ? 
 What raised the town? what gave the type and germ 
 Of social union, and of sceptre firm ? 
 What the first husbandman, the glebe to plough, 
 And rear the garden, but the marriage vow ? 
 
 " Nay, list again ! Who seek its kindly chain, 
 A second self, a double presence gain ; 
 Hands, eyes, and ears, to act or suffer here. 
 Till e'en the weak inspire both love and fear, — 
 A comrade's sigh, to soothe when cares annoy, 
 A comrade's smile, to elevate his joy. 
 
THE MARRIED AND THE SINGLE. 179 
 
 " Nor say it weds us to a carnal life, 
 When want is urgent, fears and vows are rife. 
 Light heart is his, who has no joke at home, 
 Scant prayer for blessings, as the seasons come ; 
 But wife, and offspring, goods which go or stay, 
 Teach us our need, and make us trust and pray. 
 Take love away, and life would be defaced, 
 A ghastly vision on a howling waste, 
 Stern, heartless, reft of the sweet spells which swage 
 The throes of passion, and which gladden age. 
 No child's sweet pranks, once more to make us 
 
 young ; 
 No ties of place about our heart-strings flung ; 
 No public haunts to cheer ; no festive tide 
 When harmless mirth and smiling wit preside ; 
 A life which scorns the gifts by Heaven assign'd, 
 Nor knows the sympathy of human kind. 
 
 " Prophets and teachers, priests and victor kings, 
 Deck'd with each grace which heaven-taught nature 
 
 brings, 
 These were no giant offspring of the earth, 
 But to the marriage-promise owed their birth : — 
 n 2 
 
ISO THE MARKIED AND THE SINGLE. 
 
 Moses and Samuel, David, David's Son, 
 The blessed Tishbite, the more blessed John, 
 The sacred Twelve in apostolic choir, 
 Strong-hearted Paul, instinct with seraph fire, 
 And others, now or erst, who to high heaven aspire. 
 Bethink ye ; should the single state be best, 
 Yet who the single, but my offspring blest ? 
 My sons, be still, nor with your parents strive : 
 They coupled in their day, and so ye live." 
 
 Thus marriage pleads. Now let her rival speak — 
 Dim is her downcast eye, and pale her cheek ; 
 Untrimm'd her gear ; no sandals on her feet ; 
 A sparest form for austere tenant meet. 
 She drops her veil her modest face around, 
 And her lips open, but we hear no sound. 
 I will address her : — " Hail, child of Heaven, 
 Glorious within ! to whom a post is given 
 Hard by the Throne where angels bow and fear, 
 E'en while thou hast a name and mission here, 
 O deign thy voice, unveil thy brow, and see 
 Thy ready guard and minister in me. 
 Oft hast thou come heaven-wafted to my breast, 
 Bright Spirit ! so come again, and give me rest." 
 
THE MA.RKTED AND THE SINGLE. 181 
 
 ..." Ah, who has hither drawn my backward 
 feet, 
 Changing for worldly strife my lone retreat ? 
 Where, in the silent chant of holy deeds, 
 I praise my God, and tend the sick soul's needs ; 
 By toils of day, and vigils of the night, 
 By gushing tears, and blessed lustral rite. 
 I have no sway amid the crowd, no art 
 In speech, no plea in council or in mart. 
 Nor human law, nor judges throned on high, 
 Smile on my face, and to my words reply. 
 Let others seek earth's honours ; be it mine 
 One law to cherish, and to track one line, 
 Straight on towards heaven to press with single 
 
 bent, 
 To know and love my God, and then to die content." 
 
 Oxford. 1834. 
 
182 INTERCESSION OF THE SAINTS. 
 
 CX. 
 
 INTERCESSION OF THE SAINTS. 
 
 While Moses on the Mountain lay, 
 Night after night, and day by day, 
 
 Till forty suns were gone, 
 Unconscious, in the Presence bright, 
 Of lustrous day and starry night, 
 As though his soul had flitted quite 
 
 From earth, and Eden won : 
 
 The pageant of a kingdom vast, 
 And things unutterable, pass'd 
 
 Before the Prophet's eye ; 
 Dread shadows of th' Eternal Throne, 
 The fount of Life, and Altar-stone, 
 Pavement, and them that tread thereon, 
 
 And those who worship nigh. 
 
INTEBCESSION OF THE SAINTS. 183 
 
 But lest he should his own forget, 
 Who in the vale were struggling yet, 
 
 A sadder vision came, 
 Announcing all that guilty deed 
 Of idol rite, that in their need 
 He for his flock might intercede, 
 
 And stay Heaven's rising flame. 
 
 Oxford. . September 4, 1835. 
 
184 EEPEIGEEIUM. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 REFKIGEBIUM 3 . 
 
 They are at rest : 
 The fire has eaten out all blot and stain , 
 And, convalescent, they enjoy a blest 
 
 Refreshment after pain ; 
 Thus to the End ? in Eden's grots they lie, 
 And hear the fourfold river, as it hurries by. 
 
 They hear it sweep 
 In distance down the dark and savage glen ; 
 Safe from its rocky bed, and current deep, 
 
 And eddying pools, till then ; 
 They hear, and meekly muse, as fain to know 
 How long untired, unspent, that giant stream shall 
 flow. 
 
 1 Altered from the first editions. Here it is meant to 
 illustrate St. Bede's " Quoddam quasi pratum, in quo aninise 
 nihil patiebantur, sed manehant, nondum idonese Visioni 
 Beatse." Hist. v. 
 
BEFRIGEEIUM. 185 
 
 And soothing sounds 
 Blend with the neighbouring waters as they glide ; 
 Posted along the haunted garden's bounds 
 
 Angelic forms abide, 
 Echoing, as words of watch, o'er lawn and grove, 
 The verses of that hymn which Seraphs chant above. 
 
 Oxford. 1835. 
 
18G MATINS — SUNDAY. 
 
 CXII. 
 
 MATINS— SUNDAY \ 
 
 Primo die, quo Trinitas. 
 
 To-dat the Blessed Three in One 
 
 Began the earth and skies ; 
 To-day a Conqueror, God the Son, 
 
 Did from the grave arise ; 
 We too will wake, and, in despite 
 Of sloth and languor, all unite, 
 As Psalmists bid, through the dim night 
 
 Waiting with wistful eyes. 
 
 So may He hear, and heed each vow 
 
 And prayer to Him addrest ; 
 And grant an instant cleansing now, 
 
 A future glorious rest. 
 
 1 These Hymns are all free translations, made in 1836-8, 
 from the Roman Breviary, except two, which are from the 
 Parisian. 
 
MATINS SUNDAY. 187 
 
 So may He plentifully shower, 
 On all who hymn His love and power, 
 In this most still and sacred hour, 
 His sweetest gifts and best. 
 
 Father of purity and light ! 
 
 Thy presence if we win, 
 'Twill shield us from the deeds of night 
 
 The burning darts of sin ; 
 Lest aught defiled or dissolute 
 Relax our bodies or imbrute, 
 And fires eternal be the fruit 
 
 Of fire now lit within. 
 
 Fix in our hearts, Redeemer dear, 
 
 The ever-gushing spring 
 Of grace to cleanse, of life to cheer 
 
 Souls sick and sorrowing. 
 Thee, bounteous Father, we intreat, 
 And Only Son, awful and sweet, 
 And life- creating Paraclete, 
 
 The everlasting King. 
 
188 MATINS — SUNDAY. 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 MATINS— SUNDAY. 
 
 Nocte surgentes. 
 
 Let us arise, and watch by night, 
 
 And meditate always ; 
 And chant, as in our Maker's sight, 
 
 United hymns of praise. 
 
 So, singing with the Saints in bliss, 
 With them we may attain 
 
 Life everlasting after this, 
 And heaven for earthly pain. 
 
 Grant this, Father, Only Son, 
 And Spirit, God of grace, 
 
 To whom all worship shall be done 
 In every time and place. 
 
LATINS MONDAY. 189 
 
 CXIT. 
 
 MATINS— MONDAY. 
 
 Somno refectis artubus. 
 
 Sleep has refresh'd our limbs, we spring 
 
 From off our bed, and rise ; 
 Lord, on Thy suppliants, ivhile they sing, 
 
 Look with a Father's eyes. 
 
 Be Thou the first on every tongue, 
 
 The first in every heart ; 
 That all our doings all day long, 
 
 Holiest ! from Thee may start. 
 
 Cleanse Thou the gloom, and bid the light 
 
 Its healing beams renew ; 
 The sins, which have crept in with night, 
 
 With night shall vanish too. 
 
190 MATINS — MONDAY. 
 
 Our bosoms, Lord, unburthen Thou, 
 
 Let nothing there offend ; 
 That those who hymn Thy praises now, 
 
 May hymn them to the end. 
 
 Grant this, Father, Only Son, 
 
 And Spirit, God of grace, 
 To whom all worship shall be done 
 
 In every time and place. 
 
MATINS — TUESDAY. 19 L 
 
 CXY. 
 
 MATINS— TUESDAY. 
 
 Consors Paterni luminis. 
 
 God from God, and Light from Light, 
 
 Who art Thyself the day, 
 Our chants shall break the clouds of night ; 
 
 Be with us while we pray. 
 
 Chase Thou the gloom that haunts the mind, 
 
 The thronging shades of hell, 
 The sloth and drowsiness that bind 
 
 The senses with a spell. 
 
 Lord, to their sins indulgent be, 
 
 Who, in this hour forlorn, 
 By faith in what they do not see, 
 
 With songs prevent the morn. 
 
 Grant this, O Father, etc. 
 
192 MATINS — WEDNESDAY. 
 
 CXYT. 
 
 MATINS— WEDNESDAY. 
 
 Kerura Creator optirne. 
 
 Who madest all and dost control, 
 Lord, with Thy touch divine, 
 
 Cast out the slumbers of the soul, 
 The rest that is not Thine. 
 
 Look down, Eternal Holiness, 
 
 And wash the sins away, 
 Of those, who, rising to confess, 
 
 Outstrip the lingering day. 
 
 Our hearts and hands by night, Lord, 
 
 We lift them in our need ; 
 As holy Psalmists give the word, 
 
 And holy Paul the deed. 
 
MATINS — WEDNESDAY. 193 
 
 Each sin to Thee of years gone by, 
 
 Each hidden stain lies bare ; 
 We shrink not from Thine awful eye, 
 
 But pray that Thou wouldst spare. 
 
 Grant this, Father, etc. 
 
194 MATIN'S — THURSDAY. 
 
 CXTIT. 
 
 MATINS— THUKSD AY. 
 
 Nox atra rerum contegit. 
 
 All tender lights, all hues divine 
 The night has swept away ; 
 
 Shine on us, Lord, and we shall shine 
 Bright in an inward day. 
 
 The spots of guilt, sin's wages base, 
 Searcher of hearts, we own ; 
 
 Wash us and robe us in Thy grace, 
 Who didst for sins atone. 
 
 The sluggard soul, that bears their mark, 
 
 Shrinks in its silent lair, 
 Or gropes amid its chambers dark 
 
 For Thee who, art not there. 
 
MATINS— THURSDAY. 195 
 
 Redeemer ! send Thy piercing rays, 
 
 That we may bear to be 
 Set in the light of Thy pure gaze, 
 
 And yet rejoice in Thee. 
 
 Grant this, Father, etc. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 MATINS — FKIDAY. 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 MATINS— FKIDAY. 
 
 Tu Trinitatis Unitas. 
 
 Mat the dread Three in One, who sways 
 All with His sovereign might, 
 
 Accept us for this hymn of praise, 
 His watchers in the night. 
 
 For in the night, when all is still, 
 We spurn our bed and rise, 
 
 To find the balm for ghostly ill, 
 His bounteous hand supplies. 
 
 If e'er by night our envious foe 
 With guilt our souls would stain, 
 
 May the deep streams of mercy flow, 
 And make us white again ; 
 
MATINS FKIDAY. 197 
 
 That so with bodies braced and bright, 
 
 And hearts awake within, 
 All fresh and keen may burn our light, 
 
 Undimm'd, unsoil'd by sin. 
 
 Shine on Thine own, Redeemer sweet ! 
 
 Thy radiance increate 
 Through the long day shall keep our feet 
 
 In their pure morning state. 
 
 Grant this, Father, etc. 
 
198 MATINS SATURDAY. 
 
 CXTX. 
 
 MATINS— SATURDAY. 
 
 Summse Parens clementise. 
 
 Father of mercies infinite, 
 
 Ruling all things that be, 
 Who, shrouded in the depth and height, 
 
 Art One, and yet art Three ; 
 
 Accept our chants, accept our tears, 
 
 A mingled stream we pour ; 
 Such stream the laden bosom cheers, 
 
 To taste Thy sweetness more. 
 
 Purge Thou with fire the o'ercharged mind, 
 Its sores and wounds profound ; 
 
 And with the watcher's girdle bind 
 The limbs which sloth has bound 
 
MATINS — SATURDAY . 199 
 
 That they who with their chants by night 
 
 Before Thy presence come, 
 All may be fill'd with strength and light 
 
 From their eternal home. 
 
 Grant this, Father, etc. 
 
200 LAUDS — SUNDAY. 
 
 CXX. 
 
 LAUDS— SUNDAY. 
 
 iEterne reruin conditor. 
 
 Feamer of the earth and sky, 
 Ruler of the day and night, 
 
 With a glad variety, 
 
 Tempering all, and making light ; 
 
 Gleams upon our dark path flinging, 
 Cutting short each night begun, 
 
 Hark ! for chanticleer is singing, 
 Hark ! he chides the lingering sun. 
 
 And the morning star replies, 
 
 And lets loose the imprison'd day ; 
 
 And the godless bandit flies 
 
 From his haunt and from his prey. 
 
LAUDS SUNDAY. 201 
 
 Shrill it sounds, the storm relenting 
 Soothes the weary seaman's ears ; 
 
 Once it wrought a great repenting, 
 In that flood of Peter's tears. 
 
 Rouse we ; let the blithesome ery 
 
 Of that bird our hearts awaken ; 
 Chide the slumberers as they lie, 
 
 And arrest the sin-o'ertaken. 
 
 Hope and health are in his strain, 
 
 To the fearful and the ailing ; 
 Murder sheathes his blade profane, 
 
 Faith revives when faith was failing. 
 
 Jesu, Master ! when we sin, 
 
 Turn on us Thy healing face ; 
 It will melt the offence within 
 
 Into penitential grace : 
 
 Beam on our bewilder'd mind, 
 
 Till its dreamy shadows flee ; 
 Stones cry out where Thou hast shined, 
 
 Jesu ! musical with Thee. 
 
202 LAUDS — SUNDAY. 
 
 To the Father and the Son, 
 
 And the Spirit, who in Heaven 
 
 Ever witness. Three and One, 
 Praise on Earth be ever given. 
 
LAUDS — SUNDAY. 203 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 LAUDS— SUNDAY. 
 
 Ecce jam noctis. 
 
 Palee have grown the shades of night, 
 
 And nearer draws the day, 
 Checkering the sky with streaks of lights 
 
 Since we began to pray : 
 
 To pray for mercy when we sin, 
 
 For cleansing and release, 
 For ghostly safety, and within 
 
 For everlasting peace. 
 
 Praise to the Father, as is meet, 
 
 Praise to the Only Son, 
 Praise to the Holy Paraclete, 
 
 While endless ages run. 
 
204 LAUDS MCXNDAT. 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 LAUDS— MONDAY. 
 
 Splendor Paternse glorise. 
 
 Oe the Father Effluence bright, 
 Out of Light evolving light, 
 Light from Light, unfailing Raj, 
 Day creative of the day : 
 
 Truest Sun, upon us stream 
 With Thy calm perpetual beam, 
 In the Spirit's still sunshine 
 Making sense and thought divine. 
 
 Seek we too the Father's face, 
 
 Father of almighty grace, 
 
 And of majesty excelling, 
 
 Who ^an purge our tainted dwelling ; 
 
I,ATJDS MONDAY. 205 
 
 Who can aid us, who can break 
 Teeth of envious foes, and make 
 Hours of loss and pain succeed, 
 Guiding safe each duteous deed, 
 
 And infusing self-control, 
 Fragrant chastity of soul, 
 Faith's keen flame to soar on high, 
 Incorrupt simplicity. 
 
 Christ Himself for food be given, 
 Faith become the cup of Heaven, 
 Out of which the joy is quaff 'd 
 Of the Spirit's sobering draught. 
 
 With that joy replenished, 
 Morn shall glow with modest red, 
 Noon with beaming faith be bright, 
 Eve be soft without twilight. 
 
 It has dawn'd ; — upon our way, 
 Father in Thy Word, this day, 
 In Thy Father Word Divine, 
 From Thy cloudy pillar shine. 
 
206 LATJDS — MONDAY. 
 
 To the Father, and the Son, 
 And the Spirit, Three and One, 
 As of old, and as in Heaven, 
 Now and here be glory given. 
 
LAUDS — TUESDAY. 207 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 LAUDS— TUESDAY. 
 
 Ales diei mintius. 
 
 Day's herald bird 
 At length is heard, 
 
 Telling its morning torch is lit, 
 And small and still 
 Christ's accents thrill, 
 
 Within the heart rekindling it. 
 
 Away, He cries, 
 
 With languid eyes, 
 And sickly slumbers profitless ! 
 
 I am at hand, 
 
 As watchers stand, 
 In awe, and truth, and holiness. 
 
208 LATJDS— TUESDAY. 
 
 He will appear 
 
 The hearts to cheer 
 Of suppliants pale and abstinent ; 
 
 Who cannot sleep 
 
 Because they weep 
 With holy grief and violent. 
 
 Keep us awake, 
 
 The fetters break, 
 Jesu ! which night has forged for us ; 
 
 Yea, melt the night 
 
 To sinless light, 
 Till all is bright and glorious. 
 
 To Father, Son, 
 
 And Spirit, One, 
 To the Most Holy Trinity, 
 
 All praise be given 
 
 In Earth and Heaven, 
 Now, as of old, and endlessly. 
 
LATJDS — WEDNESDAY. 209 
 
 CXXIY. 
 
 LAUDS— WEDNESDAY. 
 
 Nox et tenebras et nubila. 
 
 Haunting gloom and flitting shades, 
 
 Ghastly shapes, away ! 
 Christ is rising, and pervades 
 
 Highest Heaven with day. 
 
 He with His bright spear the night 
 
 Dazzles and pursues; 
 Earth wakes up, and glows with light 
 
 Of a thousand hues. 
 
 Thee, Christ, and Thee alone, 
 
 With a single mind, 
 We with chant and plaint would own ; 
 
 To Thy flock be kind. 
 
2 10 LAUDS WEDNESDAY. 
 
 Much it needs Thy light divine, 
 Spot and stain to clean ; 
 
 Light of Angels, on us shine 
 With Thy face serene. 
 
 To the Father and the Son 
 And the Holy Ghost, 
 
 Here be glory, as is done 
 By the angelic host. 
 
LAUDS — TIIUKSDAY. 211 
 
 CXXY. 
 
 LAUDS— THUBSDAY. 
 
 Lux ecce surgit aurea. 
 
 See, the golden dawn is glowing, 
 While the paly shades are going, 
 "Which have led us far and long, 
 In a labyrinth of wrong. 
 
 May it bring us peace serene ; 
 May it cleanse, as it is clean ; 
 Plain and clear our words be spoke, 
 And our thoughts without a cloak ; 
 
 So the day's account shall stand, 
 Guileless tongue and holy hand, 
 Stedfast eyes and unbeguiled, 
 " Flesh as of a little child." 
 p 2 
 
212 LAUDS — THUBSDAT. 
 
 There is One who from above 
 Watches how the still hours move 
 Of our day of service done, 
 From the dawn to setting sun. 
 
 To the Father, and the Son, 
 And the Spirit, Three and One, 
 As of old, and as in Heaven, 
 ]S T ow and here be glory given. 
 
LAUDS — FRIDAY. 213 
 
 CXXTI. 
 
 LAUDS— FBIDAY. 
 
 .$] tenia coeli gloria; 
 
 Glory of the eternal Heaven, 
 Blessed Hope to mortals given, 
 Of the Almighty Only Son, 
 And the Virgin's Holy One ; 
 Raise us, Lord, and we shall rise 
 
 In a sober mood, 
 And a zeal, which glorifies 
 
 Thee from gratitude. 
 
 Now the day-star, keenly glancing, 
 Tells us of the Sun's advancing ; 
 While the unhealthy shades decline, 
 Kise within us, Light Divine ! 
 Hise, and, risen, go not hence, 
 
 Stay and make us bright, 
 Streaming through each cleansed sense, 
 
 On the outward night. 
 
214 LAUDS FRIDAY. 
 
 Then the root of faith shall spread 
 In the heart new fashioned ; 
 Gladsome hope shall spring above, 
 And shall bear the fruit of love. 
 To the Father, and the Son, 
 
 And the Holy Ghost, 
 Here be glory, as is done 
 
 By the angelic host. 
 
LAUDS — SATURDAY. 215 
 
 CXXYII. 
 
 LAUDS— SATURDAY. 
 
 Aurora jam spar git polum. 
 
 The dawn is sprinkled o'er the sky, 
 
 The day steals softly on ; 
 Its darts are scatter'd far and nigh, 
 And all that fraudful is, shall fly 
 
 Before the brightening sun ; 
 Spectres of ill, that stalk at will, 
 
 And forms of guilt that fright, 
 And hideous sin, that ventures in 
 
 Under the cloak of night. 
 
 And of our crimes the tale complete, 
 
 Which bows us in Thy sight, 
 Up to the latest, they shall fleet, 
 Out-told by our full numbers sweet, 
 And melted by the light. 
 
216 LAUDS — SATTTKDAY. 
 
 To Father, Son, and Spirit, One, 
 Whom we adore and love, 
 
 Be given all praise, now and always, 
 Here as in Heaven above. 
 
PKIME. 217 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 PRIME. 
 
 Jain lucis orto sidere. 
 (From the Parisian Breviary l .) 
 
 Now that the day-star glimmers bright. 
 
 Pray, brothers, bending low, 
 That He, the uncreated Light, 
 
 May guide us as we go. 
 
 No sinful word, nor deed of wrong, 
 
 Nor thoughts that idly rove ; 
 But simple truth be on our tongue, 
 
 And in our hearts be love. 
 
 And, while the hours in order flow, 
 
 Christ, securely fence 
 Our gates, beleaguer'd by the foe, — ■ 
 
 The gate of every sense. 
 
 1 Vide the Anglo -Norman History of Sir Francis Palgrave 
 (Vol. iii. p. 588), who did the Author the honour of asking 
 him for a translation of this hymn, as also of the Christe 
 Pastorum, infra. 
 
218 PEIME. 
 
 And grant that to Thine honour, Lord, 
 
 Our daily toil may tend ; 
 That we begin it at Thy word, 
 
 And in Thy favour end. 
 
 And, lest the flesh in its excess 
 
 Should lord it o'er the soul, 
 Let taming abstinence repress 
 
 The rebel, and control. 
 
 To God the Father glory be, 
 
 And to His Only Son, 
 And to the Spirit, One and Three, 
 
 While endless ages run. 
 
 Littlemore. February, 1812. 
 
TEECE. 219 
 
 CXXIX. 
 
 TEECE. 
 
 Nunc Sancte nobis Spiritus. 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost, who ever One 
 Reignest with Father and with Son, 
 It is the hour, our souls possess 
 With Thy full flood of holiness. 
 
 Let flesh, and heart, and lips, and mind, 
 Sound forth our witness to mankind ; 
 And love light up our mortal frame, 
 Till others catch the living flame. 
 
 Now to the Father, to the Son, 
 And to the Spirit, Three in One, 
 Be praise and thanks and glory given 
 By men on earth, hy Saints in heaven. 
 
220 SEXT. 
 
 cxxx. 
 SEXT. . 
 
 Rector potens, verax Dens. 
 
 God, who canst not change nor fail, 
 Guiding the hours, as they roll by, 
 
 Bright'ning with beams the morning pale, 
 And burning in the mid- day sky, 
 
 Quench Thou the fires of hate and strife, 
 The wasting fever of the heart ; 
 
 From perils guard our feeble life, 
 And to our souls Thy peace impart. 
 
 Grant this, Father, Only Son, 
 And Holy Spirit, God of grace, 
 
 To whom all glory, Three in One, 
 Be given in every time and place. 
 
xone. 221 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 NONE. 
 
 Herum Deus tenax vigor. 
 
 O Gob, unchangeable and true, 
 
 Of all the Life and Power, 
 Dispensing light in silence through 
 
 Every successive hour, 
 
 Lord, brighten our declining day, 
 
 That it may never wane, 
 Till death, when all things round decay, 
 
 Brings back the morn again. 
 
 This grace on Thy redeem' d confer, 
 
 Father, Co-equal Son, 
 And Holy Ghost, the Comforter, 
 
 Eternal Three in One. 
 
222 VESPERS — SUNDAY. 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 YESPEES— SUNDAY. 
 
 Lucis Creator optime. 
 
 Father of Lights, by whom each day 
 
 Is kindled out of night, 
 Who, when the heavens were made, didst lay 
 
 Their rudiments in light ; 
 Thou, who didst bind and blend in one 
 
 The glistening morn and evening pale. 
 Hear Thou our plaint, when light is gone, 
 And lawlessness and strife prevail. 
 
 Hear, lest the whelming weight of crime 
 
 Wreck us with life in view ; 
 Lest thoughts and schemes of sense and time 
 
 Earn us a sinner's due. 
 So may we knock at Heaven's door, 
 
 And strive the immortal prize to win, 
 Continually and evermore 
 
 Guarded without and pure within. 
 
YESPEES — SUNDAY. 223 
 
 Grant this, Father, Only Son, 
 
 And Spirit, God of grace, 
 To whom all worship shall be done 
 
 In every time and place. 
 
224 VESPERS — MONDAY. 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 VESPEES— MONDAY. 
 
 Immense coeli conditor. 
 
 Lord of unbounded space, 
 Who, lest the sky and main 
 Should mix, and heaven should lose its place, 
 Didst the rude waters chain ; 
 
 Parting the moist and rare, 
 That rills on earth might flow 
 To soothe the angry flame, whene'er 
 It ravens from below : 
 
 Pour on us of Thy grace 
 The everlasting spring ; 
 Lest our frail steps renew the trace 
 Of the ancient wandering. 
 
YE SPEES MONDAY . 225 
 
 May faith in lustre grow, 
 
 And rear her star in heaven, 
 Paling all sparks of earth below, 
 
 Unquench'd by damps of even. 
 
 Grant it, Father, Son, 
 
 And Holy Spirit of grace, 
 To whom be glory, Three in One, 
 
 In every time and place. 
 
226 VESPERS — TUESDAY. 
 
 CXXXIV. 
 
 VESPEES— TUESDAY. 
 
 Telluris alme conditor. 
 
 All-bou^tieul Creator, who, 
 
 When Thou didst mould the world, didst drain 
 The waters from the mass, that so 
 
 Earth mio;ht immovable remain : 
 
 That its dull clods it might transmute 
 To golden flowers in vale or wood, 
 
 To juice of thirst- allaying fruit, 
 
 And grateful herbage spread for food ; 
 
 Wash Thou our smarting wounds and hot, 
 In the cool freshness of Thy grace ; 
 
 Till tears start forth the past to blot, 
 And cleanse and calm Thy holy place ; 
 
VESPEES — TUESDAY . 227 
 
 Till we obey Thy full behest, 
 
 Shun the world's tainted touch and breath, 
 Joy in what highest is and best, 
 
 And gain a spell to baffle death. 
 
 Grant it, Father, Only Son, 
 
 And Holy Spirit, God of grace, 
 To whom all glory, Three in One, 
 
 Ee given in every time and place. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 VESPERS — WEDNESDAY. 
 
 CXXXY. 
 
 YESPERS— WEDNESDAY. 
 
 Coeli Deus sanctissime. 
 
 Lord, who, thron'd in the holy height, 
 Through plains of ether didst diffuse 
 The dazzling beams of light, 
 In soft transparent hues ; 
 
 • 
 Who didst, on the fourth day, in heaven 
 Light the fierce cresset of the sun, 
 And the meek moon at even, 
 And stars that wildly run ; 
 
 That they might mark and arbitrate 
 'Twixt alternating night and day, 
 And tend the train sedate 
 Of months upon their way ; 
 
TESPEES — WEDNESDAY. 229 
 
 Clear, Lord, the brooding night within, 
 And clean these hearts for Thy abode, 
 Unlock the spell of sin, 
 Crumble its giant load. 
 
 Grant it, Father, Only Son, 
 And Holy Spirit, God of grace, 
 To whom all praise be done 
 In every time and place. 
 
230 YESPEKS — THURSDAY. 
 
 OXXXVI. 
 
 VESPERS— THURSDAY. 
 Magnse Deus potentiae. 
 
 God, who hast given 
 
 the sea and the sky, 
 To fish and to bird 
 
 for a dwelling to keep, 
 Both sons of the waters, 
 
 one low and one high, 
 Ambitious of heaven, 
 
 yet sunk in the deep ; 
 
 Save. Lord, Thy servants, 
 
 whom Thou hast new made 
 In a laver of blood, 
 
 lest they trespass and die ; 
 Lest pride should elate, 
 
 or sin should degrade, 
 And they stumble on earth, 
 
 or be dizzied on high. 
 
YESPEES — THURSDAY. 231 
 
 To the Father and Son 
 And the Spirit be done, 
 Now and always, 
 Glory and praise. 
 
232 YESPEKS FRIDAY. 
 
 CXXXYII. 
 
 VESPEKS— FRIDAY. 
 
 Hominis superne Conditor. 
 
 Whom all obey, — 
 Maker of man ! who from Thy height 
 Badest the dull earth bring to light 
 All creeping things, and the fierce might 
 
 Of beasts of prey ; — 
 
 And the huge make 
 Of wild or gentler animal, 
 Springing from nothing at Thy call, 
 To serve in their due time, and all 
 
 For sinners' sake ; 
 
 Shield us from ill ! 
 Come it by passion's sudden stress, 
 Lurk in our mind's habitual dress, 
 Or through our actions seek to press 
 
 Upon our will. 
 
VESPERS — ERIDAT. 233 
 
 Vouchsafe the prize 
 Of sacred joy's perpetual mood, 
 And service-seeking gratitude, 
 And love to quell each strife or feud, 
 
 If it arise. 
 
 Grant it, Lord ! 
 To whom, the Father, Only Son, 
 And Holy Spirit, Three in One, 
 In heaven and earth all praise be done, 
 
 With one accord. 
 
234 YESPEES — SATURDAY. 
 
 CXXXYIII. 
 
 YESPEES— SATUEDAY. 
 
 Jam sol recedit igneus. 
 
 The red sun is gone, 
 
 Thou Light of the heart, 
 Blessed Three, Holy One, 
 To Thy servants a sun 
 Everlasting impart. 
 
 There were Lauds in the morn, 
 Here are Yespers at even ; 
 may we adorn 
 Thy Temple new born 
 
 With our voices in Heaven. 
 
 To the Father be praise, 
 
 And praise to the Son 
 And the Spirit always, 
 While the infinite days 
 Of eternity run. 
 
COMPLINE. 235 
 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 COMPLINE. 
 
 Te lucis ante terminum. 
 
 Now that the day-light dies away, 
 
 By all Thy grace and love, 
 Thee, Maker of the world, we pray 
 
 To watch our bed above. 
 
 Let dreams depart and phantoms fly, 
 
 The offspring of the night, 
 Keep us, like shrines, beneath Thine eye, 
 
 Pure in our foe's despite. 
 
 This grace on Thy redeemed confer, 
 
 Father, Co-equal Son, 
 And Holy Ghost, the Comforter, 
 
 Eternal Three in One. 
 
236 ADVENT YESPEES 
 
 CXL. 
 
 ADVENT— VESPERS. 
 
 Creator alme siderum. 
 
 Ceeatoe of the starry pole, 
 Saviour of all who live, 
 
 And light of every faithful soul, 
 Jesu, these prayers receive. 
 
 Who, sooner than our foe malign 
 Should triumph, from above 
 
 Didst come, to be the medicine 
 Of a sick world, in love ; 
 
 And the deep wounds to cleanse and cure 
 
 Of a whole race, didst go, 
 Pure Victim, from a Virgin pure, 
 
 The bitter Cross unto. 
 
ADYENT — YESPERS. 237 
 
 Who hast a Name, and hast a Power, 
 
 The height and depth to sway, 
 And Angels bow, and devils cower, 
 
 In transport or dismay ; 
 
 Thou too shalt be our Judge at length 
 
 Lord, in Thy grace bestow 
 Thy weapons of celestial strength, 
 
 And snatch us from the foe. 
 
 Honour and glory, power and praise, 
 
 To Father, and to Son, 
 And Holy Ghost, be paid always, 
 
 The Eternal Three in One. 
 
238 ADVENT — MATINS. 
 
 CXLI. 
 
 ADVENT— MATINS. 
 
 Verbum supermini prodiens. 
 
 Supernal Word, proceeding from 
 The Eternal Father's breast, 
 
 And in the end of ages come, 
 To aid a world distrest ; 
 
 Enlighten, Lord, and set on fire 
 
 Our spirits with Thy love, 
 That, dead to earth, they may aspire 
 
 And live to joys above. 
 
 That, when the judgment- seat on high 
 Shall fix the sinner's doom, 
 
 And to the just a glad voice cry, 
 Come to your destined home ; 
 
ADVENT — MATINS. 239 
 
 Safe from the black and yawning lake 
 
 Of restless, endless pain, 
 We may the face of God partake, 
 
 The bliss of heaven attain. 
 
 To God the Father, God the Son, 
 
 And Holy Ghost, to Thee, 
 As heretofore, when time is done, 
 
 Unending glory be. 
 
240 ADYENT — LAUDS. 
 
 CXLII. 
 
 ADVENT— LAUDS. 
 
 En clara vox redarguit. 
 
 Habk, a joyful voice is thrilling, 
 And each dim and winding way 
 
 Of the ancient Temple filling ; 
 Dreams, depart ! for it is day. 
 
 Christ is coming ! — from thy "bed 
 
 Earth-bound soul, awake and spring,- 
 
 With the sun new-risen to shed 
 Health on human suffering. 
 
 Lo ! to grant a pardon free, 
 
 Comes a willing Lamb from Heaven : 
 Sad and tearful, hasten we, 
 
 One and all, to be forgiven. 
 
ADVENT — LAUDS. 241 
 
 Once again He comes in light, 
 Girding earth with fear and woe ; 
 
 Lord ! be Thou our loving Might, 
 From our guilt and ghostly foe. 
 
 To the Father, and the Son, 
 And the Spirit, who in Heaven 
 
 Ever witness, Three and One, 
 Praise on earth be ever given. 
 
242 THE TEANSFIGTJEATION — MATINS. 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 THE TEA1STSFIGUKATI0N— MATINS. 
 
 Quicunque Christum quseritis. 
 
 te who seek the Lord, 
 
 Lift up your eyes on high, 
 For there He doth the Sign accord 
 
 Of His bright majesty. 
 
 We see a dazzling sight 
 That shall outlive all time, 
 
 Older than depth or starry height, 
 Limitless and sublime. 
 
 'Tis He for Israel's fold 
 
 And heathen tribes decreed, 
 
 The King to Abraham pledged of old 
 And his unfailing seed. 
 
THE TRANSFIGURATION — MATINS. 243 
 
 Prophets foretold His birth, 
 
 And witness'd when He came, 
 The Father speaks to all the earth 
 
 To hear, and own His name. 
 
 To Jesus, who displays 
 
 To babes His beaming face, 
 Be, with the Father, endless praise, 
 
 And with the Spirit of grace. Amen. 
 
 n 2 
 
2M THE TRANSFIGURATION — LAUDS. 
 
 CXLIT. 
 
 THE TRANSFIGURATION— LAUDS. 
 
 Lux alma Jesu. 
 
 Light of the anxious heart, 
 
 Jesu, Thou dost appear, 
 To bid the gloom of guilt depart, 
 
 And shed Thj sweetness here. 
 
 Joyous is he, with whom, 
 
 God's Word, Thou dost abide ; 
 
 Sweet Light of our eternal home, 
 To fleshly sense denied. 
 
 Brightness of God above ! 
 
 Unfathomable grace ! 
 Thy Presence be a fount of love 
 
 Within Thy chosen place. 
 
THE TRANSFIGURATION LAUDS. 245 
 
 To Thee, whom children see, 
 
 The Father ever blest, 
 The Holy Spirit, One and Three, 
 
 Be endless praise addrest. Amen. 
 
246 FOE A 1TAUTTK. 
 
 CXLT. 
 
 FOE A MAETYE. 
 
 Deus tuorum militum. 
 
 God, of Thy soldiers 
 
 the Portion and Crown, 
 Spare Thy people, who hymn 
 
 the praise of the Blest ; 
 Earth's bitter joys, 
 
 its lures and its frown, 
 He scann'd them and scorn'd, 
 
 and so is at rest. 
 
 Thy Martyr he ran 
 
 all valiantly o'er 
 A highway of blood 
 
 for the prize Thou hast given. 
 We kneel at Thy feet, 
 
 and meekly implore, 
 That our pardon may wait 
 
 on his triumph in heaven. 
 
FOR A MARTTH. 247 
 
 Honour and praise 
 
 To the Father and Son 
 
 And the Spirit be done 
 Now and always. Amen. 
 
248 OX THE FEAST OP A CONFESSOR BISHOP, 
 
 CXLYI. 
 
 FOE A CONFESSOR BISHOP. 
 
 Christ e Pastorum l . 
 
 Thou, of shepherds Prince and Head, 
 
 Now on a Bishop's festal-day 
 Thy flock to many a shrine have sped 
 Their vows to pay. 
 
 He to the high and dreadful throne 
 
 Urged by no false inspirings, prest, 
 Nor on hot daring of his own, 
 But Thy behest. 
 
 And so, that soldier good and tried, 
 
 From the full horn of heavenly grace, 
 Thy Spirit did anoint, to guide 
 Thy ransom'd race. 
 
 1 From the Parisian Breviary. 
 
ON" THE FEAST OE A CONFESSOR BISHOP. 249 
 
 And he becomes a father true, 
 
 Spending and spent, when troubles fall, 
 A pattern and a servant too, 
 All things to all. 
 
 His pleading sets the sinner free, 
 
 He soothes the sick, he lifts the low, 
 Powerful in word, deep teacher, he, 
 To quell the foe. 
 
 Grant us, Christ, his prayers above, 
 And grace below to sing Thy praise, 
 The Father's power, the Spirit's love, 
 Now and always. 
 
 Liitlemore, February 7, 1842. 
 
250 ETHELWALD. 
 
 CXLTII. 
 
 ETHELWALD. 
 
 (From St. Bede's Metrical History of St. Cuthhert.) 
 
 Between two comrades dear, 
 Zealous and true as they, 
 Thou, prudent Ethelwald, didst bear 
 In that high home the sway. 
 
 A man, who ne'er, 'tis said, 
 Would of his graces tell, 
 Or with what arms be triumphed 
 Over the Dragon fell. 
 
 So down to us hath come 
 A memorable word, 
 Which in unguarded season from 
 His blessed lips was heard. 
 
ETHELWALD. 251 
 
 It chanced, that, as the Saint 
 Drank in with faithful ear 
 Of Angel tones the whispers faint, 
 Thus spoke a brother dear : 
 
 " why so many a pause, 
 
 Thwarting thy words' full stream, 
 Till her dark line Oblivion draws 
 Across the broken theme ? " 
 
 He answered : " Till thou seal 
 To sounds of earth thine ear, 
 Sweet friend, be sure thou ne'er shalt feel 
 Angelic voices near," 
 
 But then the hermit blest 
 A sudden change came o'er ; 
 He shudders, sobs, and smites his breast, 
 Is mute, then speaks once more : 
 
 " by the Name Most High, 
 What I have now let fall, 
 Hush, till I lay me down to die, 
 And go the way of all !" 
 
252 ETHELWALD. 
 
 Thus did a Saint in fear 
 His gifts celestial hide ; 
 Thus did an Angel standing near 
 Proclaim them far and wide. 
 
 LittUmore, 1844. 
 
CAKDLEMAS. 253 
 
 CXLVIII. 
 
 CANDLEMAS. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 The Angel-lights of Christmas morn, 
 
 Which shot across the sky, 
 Away they pass at Candlemas, 
 
 They sparkle and they die. 
 
 Comfort of earth is brief at best, 
 
 Although it be divine ; 
 Like funeral lights for Christmas gone, 
 
 Old Simeon's tapers shine. 
 
 And then for eight long weeks and more, 
 
 We wait in twilight grey, 
 Till the high candle sheds a beam 
 
 On Holy Saturday. 
 
 We wait along the penance-tide 
 
 Of solemn fast and prayer ; 
 While song is hush'd, and lights grow dim 
 
 In the sin-laden air. 
 
254 CANDLEMAS. 
 
 And while the sword in Mary's soul 
 
 Is driven home, we hide 
 In our own hearts, and count the wounds 
 
 Of passion and of pride. 
 
 And still, though Candlemas be spent 
 
 And Alleluias o'er, 
 Mary is music in our need, 
 
 And Jesus light in store. 
 
 The Oratory. 1849. 
 
THE PILGRIM QUEEN. 255 
 
 CXLIX. 
 
 THE PILGRIM QUEEN. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 There sat a Lady 
 
 all on the ground, 
 Rays of the morning 
 
 circled her round, 
 Save thee, and hail to thee 
 
 Gracious and Fair, 
 In the chill twilight 
 
 what wouldst thou there ? 
 
 " Here I sit desolate," 
 
 sweetly said she, 
 " Though I'm a queen, 
 
 and my name is Marie : 
 Robbers have rifled 
 
 my garden and store, 
 Foes they have stolen 
 
 my heir from my bower, 
 
256 THE PILGEIM QUEEN. 
 
 " They said they could keep Him 
 
 far better than I, 
 In a palace all His, 
 
 planted deep and raised high. 
 'Twas a palace of ice, 
 
 hard and cold as were they, 
 And when summer came, 
 
 it all melted away. 
 
 " Next would they barter Him, 
 
 Him the Supreme, 
 For the spice of the desert, 
 
 and gold of the stream ; 
 And me they bid wander 
 
 in weeds and alone, 
 In this green merry land 
 
 which once was my own. 
 
 I look'd on that Lady, 
 
 and out from her eyes 
 Came the deep glowing blue 
 
 of Italy's skies ; 
 
THE PILGRIM QUEEN. 257 
 
 And she raised up her head 
 
 and she smiled, as a Queen 
 
 On the day of her crowning, 
 so bland and serene. 
 
 " A moment," she said, 
 
 " and the dead shall revive ; 
 The giants are failing, 
 
 the Saints are alive ; 
 I am coming to rescue 
 
 my home and my reign, 
 And Peter and Philip 
 
 are close in my train." 
 
 The Oratory. 1849. 
 
258 THE MONTH OF MART. 
 
 CL. 
 
 THE MONTH OF MAEY. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 G-eeen are the leaves, and sweet the flowers, 
 
 And rich the hues of May ; 
 We see them in the gardens round, 
 
 And market-paniers gay : 
 And e'en among our streets, and lanes, 
 
 And alleys, we descry, 
 By fitful gleams, the fair sunshine, 
 
 The blue transparent sky. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Mother maid, be thou our aid, 
 
 Now in the opening year ; 
 Lest sights of earth to sin give birth, 
 
 And bring the tempter near. 
 
THE MOjSTH OP MAIIY. 259 
 
 Green is the grass, but wait awhile, 
 
 'Twill grow, and then will wither ; 
 The flowrets, brightly as they smile, 
 
 Shall perish altogether : 
 The merry sun, you sure would say, 
 
 It ne'er could set in gloom ; 
 But earth's best joys have all an end, 
 
 And sin, a heavy doom. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 But Mother maid, thou dost not fade ; 
 
 With stars above thy brow, 
 And the pale moon beneath thy feet, 
 
 For ever throned art thou. 
 
 The green green grass, the glittering grove, 
 
 The heaven's majestic dome, 
 They image forth a tenderer bower, 
 
 A more refulgent home ; 
 They tell us of that Paradise 
 
 Of everlasting rest, 
 And that high Tree, all flowers and fruit, 
 
 The sweetest, yet the best, 
 s 2 
 
260 THE MONTH OF MARY. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Mary, pure and beautiful, 
 
 Thou art the Queen of May ; 
 Our garlands wear about thy hair, 
 
 And they will ne'er decay. 
 
 The Oratory. 1850. 
 
THE QUEEN OF THE SEASONS. 261 
 
 CLT. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF THE SEASONS. 
 
 (A Song for an inclement May). 
 
 All is divine 
 
 which the Highest has made, 
 Through the days that He wrought, 
 
 till the day when He stay'd 
 Above and below, 
 
 within and around, 
 From the centre of space, 
 
 to its uttermost bound. 
 
 In beauty surpassing 
 
 the Universe smiled, 
 
 On the morn of its birth, 
 
 like an innocent child, 
 
202 THE QUEEtf OF THE SEASONS. 
 
 Or like the rich bloom 
 
 of some gorgeous flower ; 
 And the Father rejoiced 
 
 in the work of His power. 
 
 Yet worlds brighter still, 
 
 and a brighter than those, 
 And a brighter again, 
 
 He had made, had He chose ; 
 And you never could name 
 
 that conceivable best, 
 To exhaust the resources 
 
 the Maker possess'd. 
 
 But I know of one work 
 
 of His Infinite Hand, 
 Which special and singular 
 
 ever must stand ; 
 So perfect, so pure, 
 
 and of gifts such a store, 
 That even Omnipotence 
 
 ne'er shall do more. 
 
THE QUEEN OE THE SEASONS. 263 
 
 The freshness of May, 
 
 and the sweetness of June, 
 And the fire of July 
 
 in its passionate noon, 
 Munificent August, 
 
 September serene, 
 Are together no match 
 
 for my glorious Queen. 
 
 Mary, all months 
 
 and all days are thine own, 
 In thee lasts their joyousness, 
 
 when they are gone ; 
 And we give to thee May, 
 
 not because it is best, 
 But because it comes first, 
 
 and is pledge of the rest. 
 
 The Oratory. 1850. 
 
264 YALENTIKE TO A LITTLE GIEL. 
 
 CLII. 
 
 VALENTINE TO A LITTLE GIEL. 
 
 Little maiden, dost thou pine 
 For a faithful Valentine ? 
 Art thou scanning timidly 
 Every face that meets thine eye ? 
 Art thou fancying there may be 
 Fairer face than thou dost see ? 
 Little maiden, scholar mine, 
 Wouldst thou have a Valentine ? 
 
 Go and ask, my little child, 
 Ask the Mother undefiled : 
 Ask, for she will draw thee near, 
 And will whisper in thine ear : — 
 
VALENTINE TO A LITTLE GIRL. 265 
 
 " Valentine ! the name is good ; 
 
 For it comes of lineage high, 
 
 And a famous family : 
 And it tells of gentle blood, 
 Noble blood, — and nobler still, 
 
 For its owner freely pour'd 
 Every drop there was to spill 
 
 In the quarrel of his Lord. 
 Yalentine ! I know the name, 
 Many martyrs bear the same ; 
 And they stand in glittering ring 
 Round their warrior God and King, — 
 
 Who before and for them bled, — 
 
 With their robes of ruby red, 
 And their swords of cherub flame." 
 
 Yes ! there is a plenty there, 
 Knights without reproach or fear, — 
 Such St. Denys, such St. George, 
 Martin, Maurice, Theodore, 
 And a hundred thousand more ; 
 Guerdon gain'd and warfare o'er, 
 By that sea without a surge, 
 
266 VALENTINE TO A LITTLE (HEX. 
 
 And beneath the eternal sky, 
 And the beatific Sun, 
 
 In Jerusalem above, 
 Valentine is every one ; 
 Choose from out that company 
 
 Whom to serve, and whom to love. 
 
 The Oratory. i 1850. 
 
ST. PHILIP KERI IN HIS MISSION. 267 
 
 CLIII. 
 
 ST. PHILIP NERI IN HIS MISSION. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 In the far North our lot is cast, 
 Where faithful hearts are few ; 
 
 Still are we Philip's children dear, 
 And Peter's soldiers true. 
 
 Pounder and Sire ! to mighty Rome, 
 
 Beneath St. Peter's shade. 
 Early thy vow of loyal love 
 
 And ministry was paid. 
 
 The solemn porch, and portal high, 
 
 Of Peter was thy home ; 
 The world's Apostle he, and thou 
 
 Apostle of his Rome. 
 
 And first in the old catacomhs, 
 
 In galleries long and deep, 
 Where martyr Popes had ruled the flock, 
 
 And slept their glorious sleep, 
 
268 ST. PHILIP NEEI LN" HIS MISSION. 
 
 There didst thou pass the nights in prayer, 
 
 Until at length there came, 
 Down on thy breast, new lit for thee, 
 
 The Pentecostal flame ; — 
 
 Then, in that heart- consuming love, 
 
 Didst walk the city wide, 
 And lure the noble and the young 
 
 From Babel's pomp and pride ; 
 
 And, gathering them within thy cell, 
 
 Unveil the lustre bright, 
 And beauty of thy inner soul, 
 
 And gain them by the sight. 
 
 And thus to Eome, for Peter's faith 
 Far known, thou didst impart 
 
 Thy lessons of the hidden life, 
 And discipline of heart. 
 
 And as the Apostle, on the hill 
 
 Facing the Imperial Town, 
 First gazed upon his fair domain, 
 
 Then on the cross lay down, 
 
ST. PHILIP NEEI IN HIS MISSION. 269 
 
 So thou, from out the streets of Eome 
 
 Didst turn thy failing eye 
 Unto that mount of martyrdom 1 , 
 
 Take leave of it, and die. 
 
 The Oratory. 1850. 
 
 1 On the day of his death, Philip, " at the beginning of his 
 Mass, remained for some time looking fixedly at the hill of 
 St. Onofrio, which was visible from the chapel, just as if he 
 saw some great vision. On coming to the Gloria in Excelsis, 
 he began to sing, which was a very unusual thing for him, 
 and he sang the whole of it with the greatest joy and devo- 
 tion," &c. — Bacci's Life. 
 
270 ST. PHILIP Itf HIMSELF. 
 
 CLiy. 
 ST. PHILIP m HIMSELF. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 The holy Monks, conceal' d from men, 
 In midnight choir, or studious cell, 
 
 In sultry field, or wintry glen, 
 
 The holy Monks, I love them well, 
 
 The Friars too, the zealous hand 
 
 By Dominic or Francis led, 
 They gather, and they take their stand 
 
 Where foes are fierce, or friends have fled. 
 
 And then the unwearied Company, 
 
 Which bears the Name of sacred might, 
 
 The Knights of Jesus, they defy 
 The fiend, — full eager for the fight. 
 
 'Yet there is one I more affect 
 
 Than Jesuit, Hermit, Monk, or Friar, 
 
 'Tis an old man of sweet aspect, 
 I love him more, I more admire. 
 
ST. PHILIP IN HIMSELF. 271 
 
 I know him by his head of snow, 
 His ready smile, his keen full eye, 
 
 His words which kindle as they flow, 
 Save he be rapt in ecstasy. 
 
 He lifts his hands, there issues forth 
 A fragrance virginal and rare, 
 
 And now he ventures to our North, 
 Where hearts are frozen as the air. 
 
 He comes, by grace of his address, 
 By the sweet music of his face, 
 
 And his low tones of tenderness, 
 To melt a noble, stubborn race. 
 
 sainted Philip, Father dear, 
 Look on thy little ones, that we 
 
 Thy loveliness may copy here, 
 And in the eternal Kingdom see. 
 
 The Oratory. 1850. 
 
272 st. philip i:n t his god. 
 
 CLV. 
 
 ST. PHILIP IN HIS GOD. 
 
 Philip, on thee the glowing ray 
 
 Of heaven came down upon thy prayer, 
 
 To melt thy heart, and burn away 
 All that of earthly dross was there. 
 
 Thy soul became as purest glass, 
 
 Through which the Brightness Increate 
 
 In undimm'd majesty might pass, 
 Transparent and illuminate. 
 
 And so, on Philip when we gaze, 
 We see the image of his Lord ; 
 
 The Saint dissolves amid the blaze 
 
 Which circles round the Living Word. 
 
ST. PHILIP IN HIS GOD. 273 
 
 The Meek, the Wise, none else is here, 
 
 Dispensing light to men below ; 
 His awful accents fill the ear, 
 
 Now keen as fire, now soft as snow. 
 
 As snow, those inward pleadings fall, 
 As soft, as bright, as pure, as cool, 
 
 With gentle weight and gradual, 
 And sink into the feverish soul. 
 
 The Sinless One, He comes to seek, 
 The dreary heart, the spirit lone, 
 
 Tender of natures proud or weak, 
 Not less than if they were His own. 
 
 He takes and scans the sinner o'er, 
 Handling His scholars one by one, 
 
 Weighing what they can bear, before 
 He gives the penance to be done. 
 
 Jesu, to Philip's sons reveal 
 
 That gentlest wisdom from above, 
 
 To spread compassion o'er their zeal, 
 And mingle patience with their love. 
 
 The Oratory. 1850. 
 
 T 
 
27 4i GUABDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 CLYI. 
 
 GUABDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 My oldest friend, mine from the hour 
 When first I drew my breath ; 
 
 My faithful friend, that shall be mine, 
 Unfailing, till my death ; . 
 
 Thou hast been ever at my side ; 
 
 My Maker to thy trust 
 Consign'd my soul, what time He framed 
 
 The infant child of dust. 
 
 No beating heart in holy prayer, 
 
 No faith, inform' d aright, 
 Gave me to Joseph's tutelage, 
 
 Or Michael's conquering might. 
 
 Nor patron Saint, nor Mary's love, 
 
 The dearest and the best, 
 Has known my being, as thou hast known, 
 
 And blest, as thou hast blest. 
 
GUARDIAN ANGEL. 275 
 
 Thou wast my sponsor at the font ; 
 
 And thou, each budding year, 
 Didst whisper elements of truth 
 
 Into my childish ear. 
 
 And when, ere boyhood yet was gone, 
 
 My rebel spirit fell, 
 Ah ! thou didst see, and shudder too, 
 
 Yet bear each deed of Hell. 
 
 And then in turn, when judgments came, 
 
 And scared me back again, 
 Thy quick soft breath was near to soothe 
 
 And hallow every pain. 
 
 Oh ! who of ail thy toils and cares 
 
 Can tell the tale complete, 
 To place me under Mary's smile, 
 
 And Peter's royal feet ! 
 
 And thou wilt hang about my bed, 
 
 When life is ebbing low ; 
 Of doubt, impatience, and of gloom, 
 
 The jealous sleepless foe. 
 t 2 
 
276 GUAEDIAK" ANGEL. 
 
 Mine, when I stand before the Judge ; 
 
 And mine, if spared to stay- 
 Within the golden furnace, till 
 
 My sin is burn'd away. 
 
 And mine, Brother of my soul, 
 
 When my release shall come ; 
 Thy gentle arms shall lift me then, 
 
 Thy wings shall waft me home. 
 
 The Oratory. 1853. 
 
THE GOLDEN PEISOK, 277 
 
 CLYII. 
 
 THE GOLDEN PBISON. 
 
 Weep not for me, when I am gone. 
 Nor spend thy faithful breath 
 
 In grieving o'er the spot or hour 
 Of all- en shrouding death ; 
 
 Nor waste in idle praise thy love 
 On deeds of head or hand, 
 
 Which live within the living Book, 
 Or else are writ in sand ; 
 
 But let it be thy best of prayers, 
 That I may find the grace 
 
 To reach the holy house of toll, 
 The frontier penance-place, — 
 
 To reach that golden palace bright, 
 
 Where souls elect abide, 
 Waiting their certain call to Heaven, 
 
 With Angels at their side ; 
 
278 THE GOLDEN PETSOIS". 
 
 Where hate, nor pride, nor fear torments 
 The transitory guest, 
 
 But in the willing agony- 
 He plunges, and is blest. 
 
 And as the fainting patriarch gain'd 
 
 His needful halt mid- way, 
 And then refresh' d pursued his path, 
 
 Where up the mount it lay, 
 
 So pray, that, rescued from the storm 
 
 Of heaven's eternal ire, 
 I may lie down, then rise again, 
 
 Safe, and yet saved by fire. 
 
 The Oratory. 1853. 
 
HEATHEN GREECE. 279 
 
 CLYIII. 
 
 HEATHEN GEEECE. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 Where are the Islands of the Blest ? 
 They stud the iEgean Sea ; 
 
 And where the deep Eljsian rest ? 
 
 It haunts the vale where Peneus strong 
 Pours his incessant stream along, 
 "While craggy ridge and mountain bare 
 Cut keenly through the liquid air, 
 And, in their own pure tints array'd, 
 Scorn earth's green robes which change and fade, 
 And stand in beauty undecay'd, 
 Guards of the bold and free. 
 
 For what is Afric, but the home 
 
 Of burning Phlegethon ? 
 What the low beach and silent gloom, 
 
280 HEATHEN GEEECE. 
 
 And chilling mists of that dull river, 
 Along whose bank the thin ghosts shiver, — 
 The thin wan ghosts that once were men, — 
 But Tauris, isle of moor and fen, 
 Or, dimly traced by seamen's ken, 
 The pale-cliff'd Albion. 
 
 The Oratory. 1856. 
 
A MARTYR CONVERT. • 281 
 
 CLIX. 
 
 A MAETYE CONYEET. 
 
 (A Hymni) 
 
 The number of Thine own complete, 
 
 Sum up and make an end ; 
 Sift clean the chaff, and house the wheat ; 
 
 And then, Lord, descend. 
 
 Descend, and solve by that descent 
 
 This mystery of life ; 
 Where good and ill, together blent, 
 
 Wage an undying strife. 
 
 For rivers twain are gushing still, 
 
 And pour a mingled flood ; 
 Good in the very depths of ill, 
 
 111 in the heart of good. 
 
 The last are first, the first are last, 
 
 As angel eyes behold ; 
 These from the sheep-cote sternly cast, 
 
 Those welcomed to the fold. 
 
282 , A MA.KTYR CONVEBT. 
 
 No Christian home, no pastor's eye, 
 
 No preacher's vocal zeal, 
 Moved Thy dear Martyr to defy 
 
 The prison and the wheel. 
 
 Forth from the heathen ranks she stept, 
 
 The forfeit crown to claim 
 Of Christian souls who had not kept 
 
 Their birthright and their name. 
 
 Grace form'd her out of sinful dust ; 
 
 She knelt a soul denied, 
 She rose in all the faith, and trust, 
 
 And sweetness of a child. 
 
 And in the freshness of that love 
 She preach'd, by word and deed, 
 
 The mysteries of the world above, 
 Her new-found, glorious creed. 
 
 And running, in a little hour, 
 Of life the course complete, 
 
 She reach'd the Throne of endless power, 
 And sits at Jesu's feet. 
 
A MARTYR CONYERT. 283 
 
 Her spirit there, her body here, 
 
 Make one the earth and sky ; 
 We use her name, we touch her bier, 
 
 We know her God is nigh. 
 
 Praise to the Father, as is meet, 
 
 Praise to the Only Son, 
 Praise to the Holy Paraclete 
 
 While endless ages run. 
 
 The Oratory. 1856. 
 
284 ST. PHILIP IN HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 CLX. 
 
 ST. PHILIP IN HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 This is the Saint of gentleness and kindness, 
 
 Cheerful in penance, and in precept winning ; 
 Patiently healing of their pride and blindness, 
 Souls that are sinning. 
 
 This is the Saint, who, when the world allures us, 
 
 Cries her false wares, and opes her magic coffers, 
 Points to a better city, and secures us 
 
 With richer offers. 
 
 Love is his bond, he knows no other fetter, 
 
 Asks not our all, but takes whate'er we spare him, 
 Willing to draw us on from good to better, 
 As we can bear him. 
 
 When he comes near to teach us and to bless us, 
 
 Prayer is so sweet, that hours are but a minute; 
 Mirth is so pure, though freely it possess us, 
 Sin is not in it. 
 
ST. PHILIP IN HIS SCHOOL. 285 
 
 Thus be conducts by holy paths and pleasant, 
 
 Innocent souls, and sinful souls forgiven, 
 Towards the bright palace where our God is present, 
 Throned in high heaven. 
 
 The Oratory. 1857. 
 
286 ST. PHILIP IN HIS DISCIPLES. 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 ST. PHILIP IN HIS DISCIPLES. 
 
 (A Song.) 
 
 I ask not for fortune, for silken attire, 
 For servants to throng me, and crowds to admire ; 
 I ask not for power, or for name or success, 
 These do not content me, these never can bless. 
 
 Let the world flaunt her glories ! each glittering 
 
 prize, 
 Though tempting to others, is naught in my eyes. 
 A child of St. Philip, my master and guide, 
 I would live as he lived, and would die as he died. 
 
 Why should I be sadden'd, though friendless I be ? 
 For who in his youth was so lonely as he ? 
 If spited and mock'd, so was he, when he cried 
 To his God on the cross to stand by his side. 
 
ST. PHILIP I]ST HIS DISCIPLES. 287 
 
 If scanty my fare, yet how was he fed ? 
 
 On olives and herbs and a small roll of bread. 
 
 Are my joints and bones sore with aches and with 
 
 pains ? 
 Philip scourged his young flesh with fine iron 
 
 chains. 
 
 A closet his home 4 where he, year after year, 
 Bore heat or cold greater than heat or cold here ; 
 A rope stretch'd across it, and o'er it he spread 
 His small stock of clothes ; and the floor was his 
 bed. 
 
 One lodging besides ; God's temple he chose, 
 And he slept in its porch his few hours of repose ; 
 Or studied by light v/hich the altar-lamp gave, 
 Or knelt at the Martyr's victorious grave. 
 
 I'm ashamed of myself, of my tears and my tongue, 
 
 So easily fretted, so often unstrung ; 
 
 Mad at trifles, to which a chance moment gives 
 
 birth ; 
 Complaining of heaven, and complaining of earth. 
 
288 ST. PHILIP IN HIS DISCIPLES. 
 
 So now, with his help, no cross will I fear, 
 
 But will linger resign'd through my pilgrimage here. 
 
 A child of St. Philip, my master and guide, 
 
 I will live as he lived, and will die as he died. 
 
 The Oratory. 1857. 
 
FOR THE DEAD. 289 
 
 CLXII. 
 
 FOE THE DEAD. 
 
 (A Hymn?) 
 
 Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, 
 
 The souls to Thee so dear, 
 In prison, for the debt unpaid 
 
 Of sins committed here. 
 
 Those holy souls, they suffer on, 
 
 Resign'd in heart and will, 
 Until Thy high behest is done, 
 
 And justice has its fill. 
 For daily falls, for pardon'd crime, 
 
 They joy to undergo 
 The shadow of Thy cross sublime, 
 
 The remnant of Thy woe. 
 
 Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, 
 
 The souls to Thee so dear, 
 In prison, for the debt unpaid 
 
 Of sins committed here. 
 
 u 
 
290 FOR THE DEAD. 
 
 Oh, by their patience of delay, 
 
 Their hope amid their pain, 
 Their saered zeal to burn away 
 
 Disfigurement and stain ; 
 Oh, by their fire of love, not less 
 
 In keenness than the flame, 
 Oh, by their very helplessness, 
 
 Oh, by Thy own great Name, 
 
 Good Jesu, help ! sweet Jesu, aid 
 
 The souls to Thee most dear, 
 
 In prison, for the debt unpaid 
 Of sins committed here. 
 
 The Oratory. 1857. 
 
THE TWO WORLDS. 291 
 
 CLXIII. 
 
 THE TWO WOELDS. 
 
 Unyetl, Lord, and on us shine 
 
 In glory and in grace ; 
 This gaudy world grows pale before 
 
 The beauty of Thy face. 
 
 Till Thou art seen, it seems to be 
 
 A sort of fairy ground, 
 Where suns unsetting light the sky, 
 
 And flowers and fruits abound. 
 
 But when Thy keener, purer beam 
 Is pour'd upon our sight, 
 
 It loses all its power to charm, 
 And what was day is night, 
 u 2 
 
292 THE TWO WOELDS. 
 
 Its noblest toils are then the scourge 
 Which made Thy blood to flow ; 
 
 Its joys are but the treacherous thorns 
 Which circled round Thy brow. 
 
 And thus, when we renounce for Thee 
 
 Its restless aims and fears, 
 The tender memories of the past, 
 
 The hopes of coming years, 
 
 Poor is our sacrifice, whose eyes 
 
 Are lighted from above ; 
 We offer what we cannot keep, 
 
 What we have ceased to love. 
 
 The Oratory. 1862. 
 
THE DREAM OF GEEOSTITJS. 293 
 
 CLXTI. 
 
 THE DBEAM OF GEKONTIUS. 
 
 §1- 
 
 Geeois-tius. 
 
 Jestj, Maeia — I am near to death, 
 
 And Thou art calling me ; I know it now. 
 Not by the token of this faltering breath, 
 
 This chill at heart, this dampness on my brow,- 
 (Jesu, have mercy ! Mary, pray for me !) 
 
 'Tis this new feeling, never felt before, 
 (Be with me, Lord, in my extremity !) 
 
 That I am going, that I am no more. 
 'Tis this strange innermost abandonment, 
 
 (Lover of souls ! great God ! I look to Thee,) 
 This emptying out of each constituent 
 
 And natural force, by which I come to be. 
 
294 THE DREAM OF GEROSTITJS. 
 
 Pray for me, my friends ; a visitant 
 
 Is knocking his dire summons at my door, 
 The like of whom, to scare me and to daunt, 
 
 Has never, never come to me before ; 
 'Tis death, — O loving friends, your prayers ! — 'tis 
 
 he! . . . 
 As though my very being had given way, 
 
 As though I was no more a substance now, 
 And could fall back on nought to be my stay, 
 
 (Help, loving Lord ! Thou my sole Refuge, 
 Thou,) 
 And turn no whither, but must needs decay 
 
 And drop from out the universal frame 
 Into that shapeless, scopeless, blank abyss, 
 
 That utter nothingness, of which I came : 
 This is it that has come to pass in me ; 
 horror ! this it is, my dearest, this ; 
 So pray for me, my friends, who have not strength 
 to pray. 
 
 Assistants. 
 Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. 
 Holy Mary, pray for him. 
 All holy Angels, pray for him. 
 Choirs of the righteous, pray for him. 
 
THE DKEAM OF GEKONTniS. 295 
 
 Holy Abraham, pray for him. 
 
 St. John Baptist, St. Joseph, pray for him. 
 
 St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Andrew, St. John, 
 
 All Apostles, all Evangelists, pray for him. 
 
 All holy Disciples of the Lord, pray for him. 
 
 All holy Innocents, pray for him. 
 
 All holy Martyrs, all holy Confessors, 
 
 All holy Hermits, all Holy Virgins, 
 
 All ye Saints of God, pray for him. 
 
 Gekontius. 
 Rouse thee, my fainting soul, and play the man ; 
 
 And through such waning span 
 Of life and thought as still has to be trod, 
 
 Prepare to meet thy God. 
 And while the storm of that bewilderment 
 
 Is for. a season spent, 
 And, ere afresh the ruin on me fall, 
 
 Use well the interval. 
 
 Assistants. 
 Be merciful, be gracious ; spare him, Lord. 
 Be merciful, be gracious ; Lord, deliver him. 
 From the sins that are past ; 
 
 From Thy frown and Thine ire ; 
 
296 THE DEEAM OE GEEO^TIUS. 
 
 From the perils of dying ; 
 From any complying 
 With sin, or denying 
 His Grod, or relying 
 
 On self, at the last ; 
 
 From the nethermost fire ; 
 
 From all that is evil ; 
 
 From power of the devil ; 
 
 Thy servant deliver, 
 
 For onee and for ever. 
 
 By Thy birth, and by Thy Cross, 
 Rescue him from endless loss ; 
 By Thy death and burial, 
 Save him from a final fall ; 
 By Thy rising from the tomb, 
 By Thy mounting up above, 
 By the Spirit's gracious love, 
 Save him in the day of doom. 
 
 GrEKO^TITTS. 
 
 Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, 
 De profundis oro te, 
 
 Miserere, Judex meus, 
 Parce mihi, Domine. 
 
THE DBEAM OF GEROSTTITTS. 297 
 
 Firmly I believe and truly 
 
 God is Three, and God is One ; 
 And I next acknowledge duly 
 
 Manhood taken by the Son. 
 And I trust and hope most fully 
 
 In that manhood crucified ; 
 And each thought and deed unruly 
 
 Do to death, as He has died. 
 Simply to His grace and wholly 
 
 Light and life and strength belong, 
 And I love, supremely, solely, 
 
 Him the holy, Him the strong. 
 Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, 
 
 De profundis oro te, 
 Miserere, Judex meus, 
 
 Parce mihi, Domine. 
 And I hold in veneration, 
 
 For the love of Him alone, 
 Holy Church, as His creation, 
 
 And her teachings, as His own. 
 And I take with joy whatever 
 
 Now besets me, pain or fear, 
 And with a strong will I sever 
 
 All the ties which bind me here. 
 
298 THE DEEAM OE GEKOtfTIUS. 
 
 Adoration aye be given, 
 
 With and through the angelic host, 
 To the God of earth and heaven, 
 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 
 Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, 
 
 De profundis oro te, 
 Miserere, Judex meus, 
 
 Mortis in discrimine. 
 
 I can no more ; for now it comes again, 
 
 That sense of ruin, which is worse than pain, 
 
 That masterful negation and collapse - 
 
 Of all that makes me man ; as though I bent 
 
 Over the dizzy brink 
 
 Of some sheer infinite descent ; 
 
 Or worse, as though 
 
 Down, down for ever I was falling through 
 
 The solid framework of created things, 
 
 And needs must sink and sink 
 
 Into the vast abyss. And, crueller still, 
 
 A fierce and restless fright begins to fill 
 
 The mansion of my soul. And, worse and worse, 
 
 Some bodily form of ill 
 
 Floats on the wind, with many a loathsome curse 
 
THE DllEAM OF GEKONTITJS. 299 
 
 Tainting the hallow' d air, and laughs, and flaps 
 Its hideous wings, 
 
 And makes me wild with horror and dismay. 
 O Jesu, help ! pray for me, Mary, pray ! 
 Some Angel, Jesu ! such as came to Thee 
 
 In Thine own agony 
 
 Mary, pray for me. Joseph, pray for me. 
 Mary, pray for me. / 
 
 Assistants. 
 Rescue him, Lord, in this his evil hour, 
 As of old so many by Thy gracious power : — 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Enoch and Elias from the common doom ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Noe from the waters in a saving home ; (Amen.) 
 Abraham from th' abounding guilt of Heathenesse ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Job from all his multiform and fell distress ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Isaac, when his father's knife was raised to slay ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Lot from burning Sodom on its judgment-day ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 
300 THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS. 
 
 Moses from the land of bondage and despair ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Daniel from the hungry lions in their lair ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 And the Children Three amid the furnace-flame ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Chaste Susanna from the slander and the shame ; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 David from Golia and the wrath of Saul; (Amen.) 
 And the two Apostles from their prison-thrall; 
 
 (Amen.) 
 Thecla from her torments ; (Amen :) 
 
 — so to show Thy power, 
 Kescue this This servant in his evil hour. 
 
 Gerontius. 
 Novissima hora est ; and I fain would sleep. 
 The pain has wearied me. . . . Into Thy hands, 
 Lord, into Thy hands .... 
 
 The Priest. 
 Proficiseere, anima Christiana, de hoc mundo ! 
 Go forth upon thy journey, Christian soul ! 
 Go from this world ! Go, in the Name of God 
 The Omnipotent Father, who created thee ! 
 
THE DEEAM OF GEEONTITTS. 301 
 
 Go, in the Name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, 
 
 Son of the Living God, who bled for thee ! 
 
 Go, in the Name of the Holy Spirit, who 
 
 Hath been pour'd out on thee ! Go, in the name 
 
 Of Angels and Archangels ; in the name 
 
 Of Thrones and Dominations ; in the name 
 
 Of Princedoms and of Powers ; and in the name 
 
 Of Cherubim and Seraphim, go forth ! 
 
 Go, in the name of Patriarchs and Prophets ; 
 
 And of Apostles and Evangelists, 
 
 Of Martyrs and Confessors ; in the name 
 
 Of holy Monks and Hermits ; in the name 
 
 Of holy Yirgins ; and all Saints of God, 
 
 Both men and women, go ! Go on thy course ; 
 
 And may thy place to-day be found in peace, 
 
 And may thy dwelling be the Holy Mount 
 
 Of Sion: — through the Name of Christ, our Lord. 
 
 / 
 
 §2. 
 Soul oe Geeo^tius. 
 
 I went to sleep ; and now I am refresh'd, 
 A strange refreshment : for I feel in me 
 An inexpressive lightness, and a sense 
 
302 THE DKEAM OF GEKONTIUS. 
 
 Of freedom, as I were at length myself, 
 
 And ne'er had been before. How still it is ! 
 
 I hear no more the busy beat of time, 
 
 No, nor my fluttering breath, nor struggling pulse ; 
 
 Nor does one moment differ from the next. 
 
 I had a dream ; yes : — some one softly said 
 
 " He's gone ;" and then a sigh went round the 
 
 room. 
 And then I surely heard a priestly voice 
 Cry " Subvenite ;" and they knelt in prayer. 
 I seem to hear him still ; but thin and low, 
 And fainter and more faint the accents come, 
 As at an ever- widening interval. 
 Ah ! whence is this ? What is this severance ? 
 This silence pours a solitariness 
 Into the very essence of my soul ; 
 And the deep rest, so soothing and so sweet, 
 Hath something too of sternness and of pain. 
 For it drives back my thoughts upon their spring 
 By a strange introversion, and perforce 
 I now begin to feed upon myself, 
 Because I have nought else to feed upon. 
 
 Am I alive or dead ? I am not dead, 
 
THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS. 303 
 
 But in the body still ; for I possess 
 
 A sort of confidence, which clings to me, 
 
 That each particular organ holds its place 
 
 As heretofore, combining with the rest 
 
 Into one symmetry, that wraps me round, 
 
 And makes me man ; and surely I could move, 
 
 Did I but will it, every part of me. 
 
 And yet I cannot to my sense bring home, 
 
 By very trial, that I have the power. 
 
 'Tis strange ; I cannot stir a hand or foot, 
 
 I cannot make my fingers or my lips 
 
 By mutual pressure witness each to each, 
 
 Nor by the eyelid's instantaneous stroke 
 
 Assure myself I have a body still. 
 
 Nor do I know my very attitude, 
 
 Nor if I stand, or lie, or sit, or kneel. 
 
 So much I know, not knowing how I know, 
 
 That the vast universe, where I have dwelt, 
 
 Is quitting me, or I am quitting it. 
 
 Or I or it is rushing on the wings 
 
 Of light or lightning on an onward course, 
 
 And we e'en now are million miles apart. 
 
 Yet ... is this peremptory severance 
 
304 THE DBEAM OF GEKCXNTIUS. 
 
 Wrought out in lengthening measurements of space, 
 
 Which grow and multiply by speed and time ? 
 
 Or am I traversing infinity 
 
 By endless subdivision, hurrying back 
 
 From finite towards infinitesimal, 
 
 Thus dying out of the expanded world ? 
 
 Another marvel : some one has me fast 
 Within his ample palm ; 'tis not a grasp 
 Such as they use on earth, but all around 
 Over the surface of my subtle being, 
 As though I were a sphere, and capable 
 To be accosted thus, a uniform 
 And gentle pressure tells me I am not 
 Self-moving, but borne forward on my way. 
 And hark ! I hear a singing ; yet in sooth 
 I cannot of that music rightly say 
 Whether I hear, or touch, or taste the tones. 
 Oh, what a heart-subduing melody ! 
 
 Angel. 
 My work is done, 
 My task is o'er, 
 
 And so I come, 
 
THE DEEAM OE GEEONTXUS. 305 
 
 Taking it home, 
 For the crown is won, 
 
 Alleluia, 
 For evermore. 
 
 My Father gave 
 In charge to me 
 
 This child of earth 
 E'en from its birth, 
 To serve and save, 
 Alleluia, 
 And saved is he. 
 
 This child of clay 
 To me was given. 
 
 To rear and train 
 By sorrow and pain 
 In the narrow way, 
 Alleluia. 
 From earth to heaven. 
 
 Soul. 
 It is a member of that family 
 
 Of wondrous beings, who, ere the worlds were 
 made, 
 
 x 
 
306 THE DBEAM OF GERONTIUS. 
 
 Millions of ages back, have stood around 
 The throne of God : — he never has known sin ; 
 But through those cycles all but infinite, 
 Has had a strong and pure celestial life, 
 And bore to gaze on the unveil' d face of God, 
 And drank from the eternal Fount of truth, 
 And served Him with a keen ecstatic love. 
 Hark ! he begins again. 
 
 Angel. 
 
 Lord, how Avonderful in depth and height, 
 
 But most in man, how wonderful Thou art ! 
 With what a love, what soft persuasive might 
 Victorious o'er the stubborn fleshly heart, 
 Thy tale complete of saints Thou dost provide, 
 To 'fill the throne which Angels lost through pride ! 
 
 He lay a grovelling babe upon the ground, 
 
 Polluted in the blood of his first sire, 
 
 With his whole essence shatter'd and unsound, 
 
 And coil'd around his heart a demon dire, 
 
 Which was not of his nature, but had skill 
 
 To bind and form his op'ning mind to ill. 
 
THE DREAM OE GEEOOTIUS.- 307 
 
 Then was I sent from heaven to set right 
 
 The balance in his soul of truth and sin, 
 And I have waged a long relentless fight, 
 
 Resolved that death-environ'd spirit to win, 
 Which from its fallen state, when all was lost, 
 Had been repurchased at so dread a cost. 
 
 what a shifting parti-colour' d scene 
 
 Of hope and fear, of triumph and dismay, 
 Of recklessness and penitence, has been 
 
 The history of that dreary, life-long fray ! 
 And the grace to nerve him and to lead, 
 How patient, prompt, and lavish at his need I 
 
 man, strange composite of heaven and earth ! 
 
 Majesty dwarf d to baseness ! fragrant flower 
 Running to poisonous seed ! and seeming worth 
 
 Cloking corruption ! weakness mastering power! 
 Who never art so near to crime and shame, 
 As when thou hast achieved some deed of name • — 
 
 How should ethereal natures comprehend 
 
 A thing made up of spirit and of clay, 
 Were we not tasked to nurse it and to tend, 
 x 2 
 
308 THE DEEAM OF GEEO^TIUS. 
 
 Link'd one to one throughout its mortal day ? 
 More than the Seraph in his height of place, 
 The Angel- guardian knows and loves the ran- 
 som'd race. 
 
 Sotjl. 
 Now know I surely that I am at length 
 Out of the body ; had I part with earth, 
 I never could have drunk those accents in, 
 And not have worshipp'd as a god the voice 
 That was so musical ; but now I am 
 So whole of heart, so calm, so self-possess'd, 
 With such a full content, and with a sense 
 So apprehensive and discriminant, 
 As no temptation can intoxicate. 
 Nor have I even terror at the thought 
 That I am clasped by such a saintliness. 
 
 AlSTGEL. 
 
 All praise to Him, at whose sublime decree 
 
 The last are first, the first become the last ; 
 
 By whom the suppliant prisoner is set free, 
 
 By whom proud first-borns from their thrones 
 are cast ; 
 
THE DBEAM OF GEBONTIUS. 309 
 
 Who raises Mary to be Queen of heaven, 
 While Lucifer is left, condemn' d and unforgiven. 
 
 §3. 
 
 SOUL. 
 
 I will address him. Mighty one, my Lord, 
 My Guardian Spirit, all hail ! 
 
 Atoel. 
 
 All hail, my child ! 
 My child and brother, hail ! what wouldest thou ? 
 
 Soul. 
 I would have nothing but to speak with thee 
 For speaking's sake. I wish to hold with thee 
 Conscious communion ; though I fain would know 
 A maze of things, were it but meet to ask, 
 And not a curiousness. 
 
 Akgel. 
 
 You cannot now 
 Cherish a wish which ought not to be wish'd. 
 
 Soul. 
 Then I will speak. I ever had believed 
 That on the moment when the struggling soul 
 
310 THE DEEAM OP GEEONTIUS. 
 
 Quitted its mortal case, forthwith it fell 
 Under the awful Presence of its God, 
 There to be judged and sent to its own place 
 What lets me now from going to my Lord ? 
 
 Angel. 
 
 Thou art not let ; but with extremest speed 
 Art hurrying to the Just and Holy Judge : 
 For scarcely art thou disembodied yet. 
 Divide a moment, as men measure time, 
 Into its million-million-millionth part, 
 Yet even less than that the interval 
 Since thou didst leave the body ; and the priest 
 Cried " Subvenite," and they fell to prayer ; 
 Nay, scarcely yet have they begun to pray. 
 
 For spirits and men by different standards mete 
 The less and greater in the flow of time. 
 By sun and moon, primeval ordinances — 
 By stars which rise and set harmoniously — . 
 By the recurring seasons, and the swing, 
 This way and that, of the suspended rod 
 Precise and punctual, men divide the hours, 
 Equal, continuous, for their common use. 
 
THE DEE AM OP GEBONTIUS. 311 
 
 Not so with us in the immaterial world ; 
 
 But intervals in their succession 
 
 Are measured by the living thought alone 
 
 And grow or wane with its intensity. 
 
 And time is not a common property ; 
 
 But what is long is short, and swift is slow, 
 
 And near is distant, as received and grasp'd 
 
 By this mind and by that, and by every one 
 
 Is standard of his own chronology. 
 
 And memory lacks its natural resting-points, 
 
 Of years, and centuries, and periods. 
 
 It is thy very energy of thought 
 
 Which keeps thee from thy God. 
 
 Soul. 
 
 Dear Angel, say, 
 Why have I now no fear at meeting Him ? 
 Along my earthly life, the thought of death 
 And judgment was to me most terrible. 
 I had it aye before me, and I saw 
 The Judge severe e'en in the Crucifix. 
 Now that the hour is come, my fear is fled ; 
 And at this balance of my destiny, 
 Now close upon me, I can forward look 
 With a serenest joy. 
 
312 THE DREAM OE GEEOXTIES. 
 
 AXGEL. 
 
 It is because 
 Then thou didst fear, that now thou dost not fear, 
 Thou hast forestall' d the agony, and so 
 For thee the bitterness of death is past. 
 Also, because already in thy soul 
 The judgment is begun. That day of doom, 
 One and the same for the collected world — 
 That solemn consummation for all flesh, 
 Is, in the case of each, anticipate 
 Upon his death ; and, as the last great day 
 In the particular judgment is rehearsed, 
 So now, too, ere thou comest to the Throne, 
 A presage falls upon thee, as a ray 
 Straight from the Judge, expressive of thy lot. 
 That calm and joy uprising in thy soul 
 Is first-fruit to thee of thy recompense, 
 And heaven begun. 
 
 §4. 
 
 Soul. 
 But hark ! upon my sense 
 Comes a fierce hubbub, which would make me fear, 
 Could I be frighted. 
 
the deeam oe gekontttjs. 313 
 
 Angel. 
 "We are now arrived 
 Close on the judgment- court ; that sullen howl 
 Is from the demons who assemble there. 
 It is the middle region, where of old 
 Satan appeared among the sons of God, 
 To cast his jibes and scoffs at holy Job. 
 So now his legions throng the vestibule, 
 Hungry and wild, to claim their property, 
 And gather souls for hell. Hist to their cry. 
 
 Soul. 
 How sour and how uncouth a dissonance ! 
 
 Demons. 
 Low-born clods 
 
 Of brute earth, 
 They aspire 
 To become gods, 
 
 By a new birth, 
 And an extra grace, 
 
 And a score of merits, 
 As if aught 
 Could stand in place 
 
314 THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS. 
 
 Of the high thought, 
 And the glance of fire 
 Of the great spirits, 
 The powers blest, 
 
 The lords by right, 
 
 The primal owners, 
 
 Of the proud dwelling 
 And realm of light, — 
 Dispossessed, 
 Aside thrust, 
 
 Chuck'd down, 
 By the sheer might, 
 Of a despot's will, 
 
 Of a tyrant's frown, 
 Who after expelling 
 Their hosts, gave, 
 Triumphant still, 
 
 And still unjust, 
 
 Each forfeit crown 
 To psalm-droners, 
 And canting groaners, 
 
 To every slave, 
 And pious cheat 
 
 And crawling knave, 
 
THE DREA.M OF GEKONTIUS. 315 
 
 Who lick'd the dust 
 
 Under his feet 
 
 Angel. 
 It is the restless panting of their being ; 
 Like beasts of prey, who, caged within their bars, 
 In a deep hideous purring have their life, 
 And an incessant pacing to and fro. 
 
 Demons. 
 The mind bold 
 
 And independent, 
 
 The purpose free, 
 So we are told, 
 Must not think 
 
 To have the ascendant. 
 
 What's a saint ? 
 One whose breath 
 
 Doth the air taint 
 Before his death ; 
 
 A bundle of bones 
 Which fools adore, 
 
 Ha! ha! 
 When life is o'er ; 
 
316 THE DEEAM OF GERONTIUS. 
 
 Which rattle and stink, 
 
 E'en in the flesh. 
 We cry his pardon ! 
 
 No flesh hath he ; 
 Ha! ha! 
 For it hath died, 
 'Tis crucified 
 Day by day, 
 Afresh, afresh, 
 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 That holy clay, 
 
 Ha! ha! 
 This gains guerdon, 
 
 So priestlings prate, 
 Ha! ha! 
 Before the Judge, 
 
 And pleads and atones 
 For spite and grudge, 
 
 And bigot mood, 
 And envy and hate, 
 
 And greed of blood. 
 
THE DREAM OF GEEONTIUS. 317 
 SOUL. 
 
 How impotent they are ! and yet on earth 
 They have repute for wondrous power and skill ; 
 And books describe, how that the very face 
 Of the Evil One, if seen, would have a force 
 Even to freeze the blood, and choke the life 
 Of him who saw it. 
 
 Angel. 
 In thy trial-state 
 Thou hadst a traitor nestling close at home, 
 Connatural, who with the powers of hell 
 Was leagued, and of thy senses kept the keys, 
 And to that deadliest foe unlock'd thy heart. 
 And therefore is it, in respect of man, 
 Those fallen ones show so majestical. 
 But, when some child of grace, Angel or Saint, 
 Pure and upright in his integrity 
 Of nature, meets the demons on their raid, 
 They scud away as cowards from the fight. 
 Nay, oft hath holy hermit in his cell, 
 Not yet disburden'd of mortality, 
 Mocked at their threats and warlike overtures ; 
 
318 THE DBEAM OF GEKONTIUS. 
 
 Or, dying, when they swarm'd, like flies, around, 
 Defied them, and departed to his Judge. 
 
 Demons. 
 Virtue and vice, 
 
 A knave's pretence. 
 
 'Tis all the same ; 
 Ha! Ha! 
 
 Dread of hell- fire, 
 Of the venomous flame, 
 
 A coward's plea. 
 Give him his price, 
 
 Saint though he be, 
 Ha! Ha! 
 
 From shrewd good sense 
 
 He'll slave for hire ; 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 And does but aspire 
 To the heaven above 
 
 With sordid aim, 
 And not from love. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Soul. 
 I see not those false spirits ; shall I see 
 
THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS. 319 
 
 My dearest Master, when I reach His throne ? ' 
 Or hear, at least, His awful judgment- word 
 With personal intonation, as I now 
 Hear thee, not see thee, Angel ? Hitherto 
 All has been darkness since I left the earth ; 
 Shall I remain thus sight-bereft all through 
 My penance-time ? If so, how comes it then 
 That I have hearing still, and taste, and touch, 
 ! Yet not a glimmer of that princely sense 
 Which binds ideas in one, and makes them live ? 
 
 Angel. 
 Nor touch, nor taste, nor hearing hast thou 
 
 now ; 
 Thou livest in a world of signs and types, 
 The presentations of most holy truths, 
 Living and strong, which now encompass thee. 
 A disembodied soul, thou hast by right 
 No converse with aught else beside thyself ; 
 But, lest so stern a solitude should load 
 And break thy being, in mercy are vouchsafd 
 Some lower measures of perception, 
 Which seem to thee, as though through channels 
 brought, 
 
320 THE DREAM OF GEEONTIUS. 
 
 Through ear, or nerves, or palate, which are 
 
 gone. 
 And thou art wrapp'd and swath'd around in 
 
 dreams, 
 Dreams that are true, yet enigmatical; 
 For the belongings of thy present state, 
 Save through such symbols, come not home to 
 
 thee. 
 And thus thou tell'st of space and time and 
 
 size. 
 Of fragrant, solid, bitter, musical, 
 Or fire, and of refreshment after fire ; 
 As (let me use similitude of earth, 
 To aid thee in the knowledge thou dost ask) — 
 As ice which blisters may be said to burn. 
 Nor hast thou now extension, with its parts 
 Correlative, — long habit cozens thee, — 
 Nor power to move thyself, nor limbs to move. 
 Hast thou not heard of those, who after loss 
 Of hand or foot, still cried that they had pains 
 In hand or foot, as though they had it still ? 
 So is it now with thee, who hast not lost 
 Thy hand or foot, but all which made up man. 
 So will it be, until the joyous day 
 
THE DEEAM OE GEEONTIUS. 321 
 
 Of resurrection, when thou wilt regain 
 All thou hast lost, new-made and glorified. 
 How, even now, the consummated Saints 
 See God in heaven, I may not explicate ; 
 Meanwhile, let it suffice thee to possess 
 Such means of converse as are granted thee, 
 Though, till that Beatific Vision, thou art blind ; 
 For e'en thy purgatory, which comes like fire, 
 Is fire without its light. 
 
 Soul. 
 
 His will be done ! 
 I am not worthy e'er to see again 
 The face of day ; far less His countenance, 
 Who is the very sun. Natheless in life, 
 When I look'd forward to my purgatory 
 It ever was my solace to believe, 
 That, ere I plunged amid the avenging flame, 
 I had one sight of Him to strengthen me. 
 
 Angel. 
 
 Nor rash nor vain is that presentiment ; 
 Yes, — for one moment thou shalt see thy Lord. 
 Thus will it be : what time thou art arraign' d 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE DRE^I OF GEEONTITJS. 
 
 Before the dread tribunal, and thy lot 
 
 Is cast for ever, should it be to sit 
 
 On His right hand among His pure elect, 
 
 Then sight, or that which to the soul is sight, 
 
 As by a lightning-flash, will come to thee, 
 
 And thou shalt see, amid the dark profound, 
 
 Whom thy soul loveth, and would fain approach, — 
 
 One moment ; but thou knowest not, my child, 
 
 What thou dost ask : that sight of the Most Fair 
 
 Will gladden thee, but it will pierce thee too. 
 
 Soul. 
 Thou speakest darkly, Angel ; and an awe 
 Falls on me, and a fear lest I be rash. 
 
 Angel. 
 There was a mortal, who is now above 
 In the mid glory : he, when near to die, 
 Was given communion with the Crucified, — 
 Such, that the Master's very wounds were stamp'd 
 Upon his flesh ; and, from the agony 
 Which thrill' d through body and soul in that 
 
 embrace, 
 Learn that the flame of the Everlasting Love 
 Doth burn, ere it transform. . . . 
 
THE DREAM OE GERONTITTS. 323 
 
 § 5. 
 . . . Hark to those sounds 
 They come of tender beings angelical, 
 Least and most childlike of the sons of God. 
 
 First Choir oe Angelicals. 
 Praise to the Holiest in the height, 
 
 And in the depth be praise : 
 In all His words most wonderful ; 
 
 Most sure in all His ways ! 
 
 To us His elder race He gave 
 
 To battle and to win, 
 Without the chastisement of pain, 
 
 Without the soil of sin. 
 
 The younger son He will'd to be 
 
 A marvel in his birth : 
 Spirit and flesh his parents were ; 
 
 His home was heaven and earth. 
 
 The Eternal bless'd His child, and arm'd, 
 
 And sent him hence afar, 
 To serve as champion in the field 
 
 Of elemental war. 
 
 t 2 
 
324 THE DEEAM OF GEEONTITJS. 
 
 To be His Viceroy in the world 
 
 Of matter, and of sense ; 
 Upon the frontier, towards the foe, 
 
 A resolute defence. 
 
 Angel. 
 
 We now have pass'd the gate, and are within 
 The House of Judgment ; and whereas on earth 
 Temples and palaces are form'd of parts 
 Costly and rare, but all material, 
 So in the world of spirits nought is found, 
 To mould withal and form into a whole, 
 But what is immaterial ; and thus 
 The smallest portions of this edifice, 
 Cornice, or frieze, or balustrade, or stair, 
 The very pavement is made up of life — 
 Of holy, blessed, and immortal beings, 
 Who hymn their Maker's praise continually. 
 
 Second Choie of Angelicals. 
 Praise to the Holiest in the height, 
 
 And in the depth be praise : 
 In all His words most wonderful: 
 
 Most sure in all His wavs ! 
 
THE DEE AM OE GEEONTITJS. 325 
 
 Woe to thee, man ! for he was found 
 
 A recreant in the fight ; 
 And lost his heritage of heaven, 
 
 And fellowship with light. 
 
 Above him now the angry sky, 
 
 Around the tempest's din ; 
 Who once had Angels for his friends, 
 
 Had but the brutes for kin. 
 
 man ! a savage kindred they ; 
 
 To flee that monster brood 
 He scaled the seaside cave, and clomb 
 
 The giants of the wood. 
 
 With now a fear, and now a hope, 
 With aids which chance supplied, 
 
 From youth to eld, from sire to son, 
 He lived, and toil'd, and died. 
 
 He dreed his penance age by age ; 
 
 And step by step began 
 Slowly to doff his savage garb, 
 
 And be again a man. 
 
32G THE DREAM OF GEROtfTIUS. 
 
 And quicken'd by the Almighty's breath 
 
 And chasten' d by His rod, 
 And taught by angel- visitings, 
 
 At length he sought his God ; 
 
 And learn 9 d to call upon His Name, 
 
 And in His faith create 
 A household and a father-land, 
 
 A city and a state. 
 
 Glory to Him who from the mire, 
 
 In patient length of days, 
 Elaborated into life 
 
 A people to His praise! 
 
 Soul. 
 
 The sound is like the rushing of the wind — 
 The summer wind — among the lofty pines ; 
 Swelling and dying, echoing round about. 
 Now here, now distant, wild and beautiful ; 
 While, scatter'd from the branches it has stirr'd, 
 Descend ecstatic odours. 
 
the dream of gerontitjs. 327 
 
 Third Choir op Angelicals. 
 Praise to the Holiest in the height, 
 
 And in the depth be praise : 
 In all His words most wonderful; 
 
 Most sure in all His ways! 
 
 The Angels, as beseemingly 
 
 To spirit-kind was given, 
 At once were tried and perfected, 
 
 And took their seats in heaven. 
 
 For them no twilight or eclipse ; 
 
 No growth and no decay : 
 'Twas hopeless, all-ingulfing night, 
 
 Or beatific day. 
 
 But to the younger race there rose 
 
 A hope upon its fall ; 
 And slowly, surely, gracefully, 
 
 The morning dawn'd on all. 
 
 And ages, opening out, divide 
 
 The precious and the base, 
 And from the hard and sullen mass 
 
 Mature the heirs of grace. 
 
328 THE DEEAM OF GEEONTIUS. 
 
 man ! albeit the quickening ray, 
 
 Lit from his second birth, 
 Makes him at length what once he was, 
 
 And heaven grows out of earth ; 
 
 Yet still between that earth and heaven — 
 
 His journey and his goal — 
 A double agony awaits 
 
 His body and his soul. 
 
 A double debt he has to pay — 
 
 The forfeit of his sins : 
 The chill of death is past, and now 
 
 The penance-fire begins. 
 
 Glory to Him ; who evermore 
 
 By truth and justice reigns ; 
 Who tears the soul from out its case, 
 
 And burns away its stains ! 
 
 Angel. 
 They sing of thy approaching agony, 
 Which thou so eagerly didst question of: 
 It is the face of the Incarnate God 
 Shall smite thee with that keen and subtle pain ; 
 
THE DREAM OF GERONTIUS. , 329 
 
 And jet the memory which it leaves will be 
 A sovereign febrifuge to heal the wound ; 
 And yet withal it will the wound provoke, 
 And aggravate and widen it the more. 
 
 Sottl. 
 Thou speakest mysteries ; still methinks I know 
 To disengage the tangle of thy words : 
 Yet rather would I hear thy angel voice, 
 Than for myself be thy interpreter. 
 
 Angel. 
 When then — if such thy lot — thou seest thy Judge, 
 The sight of Him will kindle in thy heart 
 All tender, gracious, reverential thoughts. £ — -•» 
 Thou wilt be sick with love, and yearn for Him, 
 And feel as though thou couldst but pity Him, 
 That one so sweet should e'er have placed Himself 
 At disadvantage such, as to be used 
 So vilely by a being so vile as thee. 
 There is a pleading in His pensive eyes 
 Will pierce thee to the quick, and trouble thee. 
 And thou wilt hate and loathe thyself ; for, though 
 Now sinless, thou wilt feel that thou hast sinn'd, 
 
330 THE DREAM OF GERONTITTS. 
 
 As never thou didst feel ; and wilt desire 
 
 To slink away, and hide thee from His sight: 
 
 And yet wilt have a longing aye to dwell 
 
 Within the beauty of His countenance. 
 
 And these two pains, so counter and so keen, — 
 
 The longing for Him, when thou seest Him not ; 
 
 The shame of self at thought of seeing Him, — 
 
 Will be thy veriest, sharpest purgatory. 
 
 Sotjl. 
 My soul is in my hand : I have no fear, — 
 In His dear might prepared for weal or woe. 
 But hark ! a grand, mysterious harmony : 
 It floods me, like the deep and solemn sound 
 Of many waters. 
 
 Angel. 
 We have gain'd the stairs 
 Which rise towards the Presence-chamber ; there 
 A band of mighty Angels keep the way 
 On either side, and hymn the Incarnate God. 
 
 Angels of the Sacred Stair. 
 Father, whose goodness none can know, but they 
 Who see Thee face to face, 
 
THE DREAM OE GERONTITJS. 331 
 
 By man hath come the infinite display 
 
 Of Thy victorious grace ; 
 But fallen man — the creature of a day — 
 
 Skills not that love to trace. 
 It needs, to tell the triumph Thou hast wrought, 
 An Angel's deathless fire, an Angel's reach of 
 thought. 
 
 It needs that very Angel, who with awe, 
 
 Amid the garden shade, 
 The great Creator in His sickness saw, 
 
 Soothed by a creature's aid, 
 And agonized, as victim of the Law 
 
 Which He Himself had made ; 
 For who can praise Him in His depth and height, 
 But he who saw Him reel amid 
 
 that solitary fight. 
 
 Sotjl. 
 Hark ! for the lintels of the presence-gate 
 Are vibrating and echoing back the strain. 
 
 FOTJETH CHOIE OE AnGELICALS. 
 
 Praise to the Holiest in the height, 
 And in the depth be praise ; 
 
332 THE DBEAM OF GERONTIUS. 
 
 In all His words most wonderful ; 
 Most sure in all His ways ! 
 
 The foe blasphemed the Holy Lord, 
 
 As if He reckon'd ill, 
 In that He placed His puppet man 
 
 The frontier place to fill. 
 
 For, even in his best estate, 
 With amplest gifts endued, 
 
 A sorry sentinel was he, 
 A being of flesh and blood. 
 
 As though a thing, who for his help 
 
 Must needs possess a wife, 
 Could cope with those proud rebel hosts 
 
 Who had angelic life. 
 
 And when, by blandishment of Eve, 
 That earth-born Adam fell, 
 
 He shriek'd in triumph, and he cried, 
 " A sorry sentinel ; 
 
 " The Maker by His word is bound, 
 Escape or cure is none ; 
 
THE DREAM OP GERONTITTS. 333 
 
 He must abandon to his doom, 
 And slay His darling son." 
 
 Angel. 
 
 And now the threshold, as we traverse it. 
 Utters aloud its glad responsive chant. 
 
 Fifth Choir of Afgelicals. 
 
 Praise to the Holiest in the height, 
 And in the depth be praise : 
 
 In all His words most wonderful ; 
 Most sure in all His ways! 
 
 loving wisdom of our God ! 
 
 When all was sin and shame, 
 A second Adam to the fight 
 
 And to the rescue came. 
 
 wisest love ! that flesh and blood 
 Which did in Adam fail, 
 
 Should strive afresh against their foe, 
 Should strive and should prevail ; 
 
334 THE DREAM OE GERONTIUS. 
 
 And that a higher gift than grace 
 Should flesh and blood refine, 
 
 God's Presence and His very Self, 
 And Essence all-divine. 
 
 generous love ! that He who smote 
 
 In man for man the foe, 
 The double agony in man 
 
 For man should undergo ; 
 
 And in the garden secretly, 
 And on the cross on high, 
 
 Should teach His brethren and inspire 
 To suffer and to die. 
 
 §6. 
 
 Angel. 
 
 Thy judgment now is near, for we are come 
 Into the veiled presence of our God. 
 
 Soul. 
 I hear the voices that I left on earth. 
 
THE DBEAM OP GERONTIUS. 335 
 
 ANGEL. 
 
 It is the voice of friends around thy bed, 
 
 Who say the " Subvenite " with the priest. 
 
 Hither the echoes come ; before the Throne 
 
 Stands the great Angel of the Agony, 
 
 The same who strengthen' d Him, what time He 
 
 knelt 
 Lone in that garden shade, bedew'd with blood. 
 That Angel best can plead with Him for all 
 Tormented souls, the dying and the dead. 
 
 Angel oe the Agony. 
 
 by that shuddering dread which fell on Thee; 
 by that cold dismay which sicken' d Thee ; 
 by that pang of heart which thrill'd in Thee ; 
 by that mount of sins which crippled Thee ; 
 by that sense of guilt which stifled Thee ; 
 by that innocence which girdled Thee ; 
 by that sanctity which reign' d in Thee ; 
 by that Godhead which was one with Thee ; 
 spare these souls which are so dear to Thee, 
 
336 THE DEE AM OF GEB01STIUS. 
 
 Hasten, Lord, their hour, and bid them come to 
 
 Thee, 
 To that glorious Home, where they shall ever gaze 
 
 on Thee. 
 
 Soul. 
 I go before my Judge. Ah ! . . . . 
 
 Angel. 
 .... Praise to His Name ! 
 <- C The eager spirit has darted from my hold, 
 And, with the intemperate energy of love, 
 Flies to the dear feet of Emmanuel ; 
 But, ere it reach them, the keen sanctity, 
 Which with its effluence, like a glory, clothes 
 And circles round the Crucified, has seized, 
 And scorch'd, and shrivell'd it ; and now it lies 
 Passive and still before the awful Throne. 
 happy, suffering soul ! for it is safe, 
 Consumed, yet quicken'd, by the glance of God. 
 
 Soul. 
 
 Take me away, and in the lowest deep 
 There let me be, 
 
THE DREAM OF GEEONTIUS. 337 
 
 i 
 
 And there in hope the lone night-watches keep, 
 
 Told out for me. 
 There, motionless and happy in my pain, 
 
 Lone, not forlorn, — 
 There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, 
 
 Until the morn. 
 There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast, 
 
 Which ne'er can cease 
 To throb, and pine, and languish, till possest 
 
 Of its Sole Peace. 
 There will I sing my absent Lord and Love : — 
 
 Take me away, 
 That sooner I may rise, and go above, 
 And see Him in the truth of everlasting day. 
 
 § 7. 
 Angel. 
 Now let the golden prison ope its gates, 
 Making sweet music, as each fold revolves 
 Upon its ready hinge. And ye, great powers, 
 Angels of Purgatory, receive from me 
 My charge, a precious soul, until the day, — — r?r 6 ^ 
 When, from all bond and forfeiture released, 
 I shall reclaim it for the courts of light. J 
 
338 THE DRE^I OF GERO^TIUS. 
 
 Souls m Purgatory. 
 
 1. Lord, Thou hast been our refuge : in every 
 
 generation ; 
 
 2. Before the hills were born, and the world was: 
 
 from age to age Thou art God. 
 
 3. Bring us not, Lord, very low: for Thou hast 
 
 said, Come back again, ye sons of Adam. 
 
 4>. A thousand years before Thine eyes are but 
 as yesterday : and as a watch of the night 
 which is come and gone. 
 
 5. The grass springs up in the morning : at 
 
 evening-tide it shrivels up and dies. 
 
 6. So we fail in Thine anger : and in Thy wrath 
 
 are we troubled. 
 
 7. Thou hast set our sins in Thy sight : and our 
 
 round of days in the light of Thy countenance. 
 
 8. Come back, Lord ! how long : and be entreated 
 
 for Thy servants. 
 
 9. In Thy morning we shall be filled with Thy 
 
 mercy : we shall rejoice and be in pleasure all 
 
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THE DEEAM OF GEKONTIUS. 339 
 
 10. We shall be glad according to the days of our 
 
 humiliation : and the years in which we have 
 seen evil. 
 
 11. Look, Lord, upon Thy servants and on Thy 
 
 work : and direct their children. 
 
 12. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be 
 upon us : and the work of our hands, establish 
 Thou it 
 
 Glory be to the Father, and to the Son : and to the 
 
 Holy Ghost. 
 As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall 
 
 be : world without end. Amen. 
 
 W" 
 
 Angel. 
 ,J 
 Softly and gently, dearly-ransom'd soul, 
 
 In my most loving arms I now enfold thee, 
 
 And, o'er the penal waters, as they roll, 
 
 I poise thee, and I lower thee, and hold thee. 
 
 And carefully I dip thee in the lake, 
 
 And thou, without a sob or a resistance, 
 
 Dost through the flood thy rapid passage take, 
 
 Sinking deep, deeper, into the dim distance. 
 
°A0 
 
 THE DEEAM OF GEEONTIUS. 
 
 Angels, to whom the willing task is given, 
 
 Shall tend, and nurse, and lull thee, as thou 
 liest ; 
 And Masses on the earth, and prayers in heaven, 
 Shall aid thee at the Throne of the Most 
 Highest. 
 
 Farewell, but not for ever ! brother dear, 
 
 Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow ; 
 
 Swiftly shall pass thy night of trial here, 
 
 And I will come and wake thee on the morrow. 
 
 The Oratory. January, 1865. 
 
 
 LJate 
 
 Due 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 rr 
 
 
 
 
 rtb 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 i