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HYMNS OF THE AGES. 
 
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HYMNS OF THE AGES. 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM LYRA CATHOLICA, GERMANICA 
 APOSTOLICA, AND OTHER SOURCES. 
 
 '.£. S, MA Q" 
 
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 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 By REV. F. D. HUNTINGTON, D. D. 
 
 
 BOSTON: 
 PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, AND COMPANY. 
 
 M DCCC LIX. 
 
$- 
 
 Entered according to Act of 'Congress, in the year 1858, 
 
 By Phillips, Sampson, and Company, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 
 H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY 
 
r 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT has been our purpose in compiling this vol- 
 ume, to bring together, irrespective of creed 
 and in a convenient form, some of the best sacred 
 poetry, such as contains quiet thoughts for quiet 
 hours, — devotional, comforting, peaceful. 
 
 We have therefore in several instances omitted 
 hymns which deservedly rank among the best, and 
 in those from the Lyra Catholica have made a few 
 slight alterations. 
 
 Preferring the older hymns as less known, and 
 richer in association, we have not limited ourselves 
 to these : whatever seemed to belong in the book 
 we have placed here, not carelessly, yet caring little 
 for its outward source. If it be true that all along 
 the ages and amid all varying phases of belief, the 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 human heart is the same, and if this in the hymns 
 before us, has chanted its yearnings, and doubts, and 
 comforts, and heavenward hopes, in the one great 
 temple whose roof overarches all our creeds, need 
 we ask whether the strain first stole from desk or 
 aisle, from monkish crypt or kingly chapel, from 
 the soul of a heart-broken sinner, or canonized 
 saint % 
 
 The heart of humanity in its highest, deepest 
 moods has spoken here, still speaks; and the Divine 
 heart has listened, listens still as we believe, to these 
 tender and glorious songs. 
 
 c. s. w. 
 a. E. g. 
 
 July, 1858. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE LYRA CATHOLICA. 
 
 COMPETENT and willing hands have been 
 found to do the grateful work of making 
 these selections of rare and beautiful poetry. Most 
 of the pieces, not all, are culled from the rich and 
 hallowed minstrelsy of the Catholic Communion, — 
 the time being quite come when Christians who 
 would be truly catholic, cannot afford to lose the 
 nourishment and consolation for the inward life, 
 which any branch of Christ's Body supplies. To 
 most Protestants these pieces will be new. By a 
 few, some of them will be greeted as acquaintances 
 already familiar and endeared, the companions of 
 many sacred hours. The present writer's office is 
 merely to pass on to the public what the taste and 
 veneration of two friends have made ready. With- 
 
Preface to the Lyra Catholica. 
 
 out undertaking to commend these noble and grace- 
 ful productions, he would only invite the inquiry 
 whether the elements and influences united in them, 
 are not precisely such as the religious culture of our 
 time and region needs; whether the nameless quali- 
 ty of genuine sacred poetry is not in them, in a re- 
 markable measure ; whether the energy and fire of 
 original genius are not finely blended with the sim- 
 plicity of a quiet heart and a deep spirituality ; 
 whether the facts, the materials, the symbols, the 
 persons, all the outward forms and events through 
 which the Eternal Word is revealed, are not here 
 so delicately and vigorously touched as to render 
 them powerful attractions to a holy life ; and wheth- 
 er devotion is not likely to grow ardent and firm 
 where the inmost soul of man is so humbly thrown 
 open, as here, to the personal approaches of his 
 Maker and Redeemer. 
 
 It may be interesting to those readers who are 
 first introduced to the treasures of devout poetry in 
 the Old Church by this volume, to know that the 
 Lyra Catholica most in use in this country is a re- 
 
Preface to the Lyra Catholica. 
 
 publication and enlargement of an English collec- 
 tion, of the same name, compiled and translated by 
 Edward Caswall in 1849, — extracts from whose 
 preface are given below. The American work is 
 published by Edward Dunigan and brother, of New 
 York, whose kindness and courtesy in allowing the 
 present abridgment are cordially acknowledged. It 
 includes three parts : 1. The Hymns of the Roman 
 Breviary and Missal, with others adapted to the an- 
 nual Festivals of the Church ; 2. Hymns, Anthems, 
 and Holy Lyrics, appropriate to particular occa- 
 sions of devotion; 3. Sacred Poems less intimately 
 related to ecclesiastical services, selected from both 
 Catholic and Protestant writers. 
 
 From the whole vast range of Christian thought, 
 experience, and imagination, therefore, — from the 
 fresh melodies lifted in the morning air of the 
 Christian ages,- — from that long line of consecrated 
 and aspiring singers reaching back to the days of 
 Constantine, — from among the lofty strains of Am- 
 brose and Jerome and their strong fellow-believers, 
 where the sanctity of centuries is so wrought, like 
 an invisible aroma, into the very substance and 
 
Preface to the Lyra Catholica. 
 
 structure of the verses, that it would seem as if 
 some prophetic sense of their immortality had 
 breathed in the men that wrote them, — from the 
 secret cells and the high cathedrals of the Continen- 
 tal worship, where scholarship, and art, and power 
 joined with piety to raise the Lauds and Glorias, 
 the Matins and Vespers, the Sequences and the 
 Choral Harmonies of a gorgeously appointed 
 Praise, — from the purer literature of Old England, 
 embracing the tender and earnest numbers of South- 
 well, and Crashaw, and Habington, and a multitude 
 better known besides, — these voices of Faith are 
 reverently gathered into their perfect harmony. 
 
 The volume is offered to the thoughtful portion 
 of our community, with a cheerful confidence that 
 it will fulfil an elevating, purifying, comforting 
 ministry in many hearts, closets, and homes. Nor 
 will its worth fail to be the more cordially con- 
 fessed in many quarters, because so much in it 
 favors the general tendency to recognize the observ- 
 ances and associations of the Christian' Year. 
 
 Cambridge, June 1858. F. D. H. 
 
EXTRACTS 
 
 From the Preface of Edward Caswall, M. A., to his 
 Lyra Catholica. 
 
 It has been the object to exhibit for the firft time in 
 an Englifh form, the entire series of those divine Hymns, 
 which, in their Latin originals, have through ages been, 
 and ftill continue to be, to countless saintly souls, the joy 
 and consolation of their earthly pilgrimage. 
 
 " The present contribution to the exifting ftore of Cath- 
 olic vernacular Hymns, confifts of three portions. The 
 firft, and by far the largeft portion, comprehends all the 
 Hymns in the Roman Breviary, including those in the Of- 
 ficia Sanctorum Angliae ; the second portion comprises the 
 Hymns and Sequences of the Roman Miflal ; and the 
 third confifts of Hymns from various sources. Of these 
 latter it may be observed, that the Hymns on the Nativity, 
 Annunciation, and Vifitation, of our Blefled Lady, as also 
 those to St. Anne, St. Stephen, and St. John the Evange- 
 lift, are from the Monadic Breviary of Cluny ; those on 
 the Purification and the AlTumption, the Hymn to Jesus, 
 and that for Sunday Morning, from the Parifian Breviary ; 
 and those to St. Joseph, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. Pius 
 the Fifth, from the Raccolta delle Indulgenze. 
 
 " As respects the Hymns in general, it may be useful 
 to remark, that the greater number of them appear to 
 have been originally written, not with a view to private 
 
xii Preface. 
 
 reading, but for the purpose of being sung to the beautiful 
 ecclefiaftical melodies by Monaftic and other Religious 
 Bodies at their Office in Choir. This circumfrance will 
 serve to explain a few scattered expreffions, which other- 
 wise might seem unreal ; as, for inftance, where allufions 
 occur to the practice of riftng at midnight to fing praises 
 to God ; — and if, on the one hand, some few of the 
 Hymns may so far appear less adapted to the use of per- 
 sons living in the world, it is our gain surely, on the other 
 hand, thus, by occafional glimpses, to be reminded of that 
 more perfect life, which has never ceased to be a reality in 
 the Catholic Church. 
 
 " Another advantage, which we owe, doubtless, in a 
 measure, to the same circumftance — an advantage not to 
 be despised in a sentimental age — is the exceedingly plain 
 and practical character of these Hymns. Written with a 
 view to conftant daily use, they aim at something more 
 than merely exciting the feelings. They have a perpetual 
 reference to action. Their character is eminently objec- 
 tive. Their tendency is, to take the individual out of 
 himself; to set before him, in turn, all the varied and sub- 
 lime Objects of Faith ; and to blend him with the uni- 
 versal family of the Faithful. 
 
 " And here, although the Tranflator may seem to be 
 pleading his own cause, yet he cannot refrain from oWrv- 
 ing, that truly poetical as are many of these Hymns, as in- 
 deed well befits the sacred outpourings of Chrill's tender 
 Spouse, frill, as a whole, the devotional is their primary 
 ami leaft disappointing aspect. Whoever attempts to read 
 them as mere poetry, will obtain from them little of that 
 
Preface. xiii 
 
 delight which they are capable of inspiring. And as this 
 is true of the original Latin, so it is truer flill of the 
 Hymns as they appear in the present tranflation ; in 
 which, it is to be feared, the unadorned fimplicity of the 
 prototype has too often degenerated into plainness ; while 
 its beauties have been faintly reflected, and their clear edge 
 blunted in pafling through a too earthly medium." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LYRA CATHOLICA 
 
 MATINS 3 
 
 VESPERS 19 
 
 ASPIRATION 23 
 
 SELF-CONSECRATION 29 
 
 TRUST 39 
 
 PRAYER 5° 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT 56 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION 61 
 
 CHRIST 73 
 
 SAINTS, MARTYRS, &C IOO 
 
 COMMUNION SERVICE 1 1 6 
 
 DEDICATION OF A CHURCH 1 19 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS 122 
 
 LYRA GERMANICA 137 
 
 LYRA APOSTOLIC A 179 
 
 LYRA INNOCENTIUM 193 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS 215 
 
LYRA CATHOLICA. 
 
LYRA CATHOLICA. 
 
 MATINS. 
 
 O BLEST Creator of the light ! 
 Who doft the dawn from darkness bring ; 
 And framing Nature's depth and height, 
 Didft with the new-born light begin ; 
 
 Who gently blending eve with morn, 
 
 And morn with eve, didft call them day : — 
 
 Thick flows the flood of darkness down ; 
 Oh, hear us as we weep and pray ! 
 
 Keep thou our souls from schemes of crime ; 
 
 Nor guilt remorseful let them know ; 
 Nor, thinking but on things of time, 
 
 Into eternal darkness go. 
 
 Teach us to knock at Heaven's high door ; 
 
 Teach us the prize of life to win ; 
 Teach us all evil to abhor, 
 
 And purify ourselves within. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 NOW doth the sun ascend the fky, 
 And wake creation with its ray ; 
 Keep us from fin, O Lord mod high ! 
 Through all the actions of the day. 
 
 Curb Thou for us th' unruly tongue ; 
 
 Teach us the way of peace to prize j 
 And close our eyes againft the throng 
 
 Of earth's absorbing vanities. 
 
 Oh, may our hearts be pure within ! 
 
 No cherifh'd madness vex the soul ! 
 May abftinence the flefh reftrain, 
 
 And its rebellious pride control. 
 
 So when the evening ftars appear, 
 
 And in their train the darkness bring ; 
 
 May we, O Lord, with conscience clear, 
 Our praise to thy pure glory fing. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 <£%£$ 
 
Matins. 
 
 OUR limbs with tranquil fleep refrem'd 
 Lightly from bed we spring ; 
 Father supreme! to us be nigh 
 While to thy praise we sing. 
 
 Thy love be firft in every heart 
 
 Thy name on every tongue ; 
 Whatever we this day may do, 
 
 May it in Thee be done. 
 
 Soon will the morning ftar arise, 
 
 And chase the dufk away ; 
 Whatever guilt has come with night, 
 
 May it depart with day. 
 
 Cut off in us, Almighty Lord, 
 
 All that may lead to fhame ; 
 So with pure hearts may we in bliss 
 
 Thine endless praise proclaim. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 GREAT Framer of the earth and fky, 
 Who doft the light and darkness give 
 And all the cheerful change supply 
 Of alternating morn and eve! 
 
 Light of the midnight traveller ! 
 
 Who doft divide the day from night! — 
 Loud crows the dawn's fhrill harbinger, 
 
 And wakens up the sunbeams bright. 
 
 Forthwith at this, the darkness chill 
 Retreats before the ftar of morn ; 
 
 And from their busy schemes of ill, 
 The vagrant crews of night return. 
 
 Frefh hope, at this, the sailor cheers ; 
 
 The waves their ftormy ftrife allay ; 
 The Church's Rock at this, in tears, 
 
 Haftens to warn his guilt away. 
 
 Arise ye, then, with one accord ! 
 
 Nor longer wrapt in (lumber lie ; 
 The cock rebukes all who their Lord 
 
 By floth neglecl, by fin deny. 
 
Matins. 
 
 At his clear cry joy springs afrefh ; 
 
 Health courses through the sick man's veins 
 The dagger glides into its fheath ; 
 
 The fallen soul her faith regains. 
 
 Jesu ! look on us when we fall ; — 
 
 One momentary glance of thine 
 Can from her guilt the soul recall 
 
 To tears of penitence divine. 
 
 Awake us from false fleep profound, 
 
 And through our senses pour thy light ; 
 
 Be thy bleft name the firfr. we sound 
 At early dawn, the laft at night. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 COME, Holy Ghoft, and through each heart 
 In thy full flood of glory pour; 
 Who, with the Son and Father, art 
 One Godhead bleff. for evermore. 
 
 So fhall voice, mind, and ftrength conspire 
 
 Thy praise eternal to resound ; 
 So fhall our hearts be set on fire, 
 
 And kindle every heart around. 
 
 Father of mercies ! hear our cry ; 
 
 Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! 
 Who, with the Holy Ghoft moft high, 
 
 Reigneft while endless ages run. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 LORD of eternal truth and might ! 
 Ruler of nature's changing scheme ! 
 Who doft bring forth the morning light, 
 And temper noon's effulgent beam : 
 
 Quench Thou in us the flames of ftrife, 
 And bid the heat of passion cease ; 
 
 From perils guard our feeble life, 
 
 And keep our souls in perfect peace. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 Rerum Deus tenax 'vigor. 
 
 OTHOU true life of all that live! 
 Who doft, unmoved, all motion sway ; 
 Who doft the morn and evening give, 
 And through its changes guide the day : 
 
 Thy light upon our evening pour, — 
 
 So may our souls no sunset see ; 
 But death to us an open door 
 
 To an eternal morning be. 
 
 Father of mercies ! hear our cry ; 
 
 Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! 
 Who, with the Holy Ghoft moft high, 
 
 Reigneft while endless ages run. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 LET us arise and watch ere dawn of light, 
 And to the Lord our hearts and voices raise ; 
 And meditate in psalms, and all unite 
 In holy hymns of praise. 
 
 So joining in the ftrains of saints on high 
 Hereafter, in the courts of heaven's great King, 
 May we be meet his praise eternally 
 With them in bliss to sing. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 OTHOU the Father's Image bleft ! 
 Who called forth the morning ray j 
 O Thou eternal Light of light ! 
 And inexhauftive Fount of day ! 
 
 True Sun ! upon our souls arise, 
 
 Shining in beauty evermore ; 
 And through each sense the quick'ning beam 
 
 Of the eternal Spirit pour. 
 
 Thee too, O Father, we entreat, 
 Father of might and grace divine! 
 
 Father of glorious majefty ! 
 Thy pitying eye on us incline. 
 
 Confirm us in each good resolve ; 
 
 The Tempter's envious rage subdue ; 
 Turn each misfortune to our good ; 
 
 Direct us right in all we do. 
 
 Rule Thou our inmoft thoughts ; let no 
 
 Impurity our hearts defile ; 
 Grant us a true and fervent faith ; 
 
 Grant us a spirit free from guile. 
 
 May Chrifl: himself he our true Food, 
 And Faith our daily cup supply ; 
 
Matins. 
 
 While from the Spirit's tranquil depth 
 We drink unfailing draughts of joy. 
 
 Still ever with the peep of morn 
 
 May saintly modefty attend ; 
 Faith sanctify the midday hours ; 
 
 Upon the soul no night descend. 
 
 Faft breaks the dawn. — Each whole in Each, 
 Come, Father bleft ! Come, Son moil high ! 
 
 Shine in our souls, and be to them 
 The dawn of immortality. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 LO, fainter now lie spread the shades of night, 
 And upward fhoot the trembling gleams of morn 
 Suppliant we bend before the Lord of Light, 
 And pray at early dawn, — 
 
 That his sweet charity may all our fin 
 Forgive, and make our miseries to cease ; 
 May grant us health, grant us the gift divine 
 Of everlafting peace. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL AT SUNRISE. 
 
 SOIL not thy plumage, gentle dove, 
 With sublunary things, — 
 Till in the fount of light and love, 
 Thou fhalt have bathed thy wings. 
 
 Shall Nature from her couch arise, 
 
 And rise for thee in vain ? 
 While heaven, and earth, and seas, and fides, 
 
 Such types of truth contain. 
 
 See — where the Sun of Righteousness, 
 
 ' Unfolds the gates of day : 
 Go, — meet Him in his glorious dress, 
 And quaff the orient ray ! 
 
 There, where ten thousand seraphs ftand, 
 
 To crown the circling hours, — 
 Soar thou, — and from that blifsful land 
 
 Bring down unfading flowers : 
 
 Some Rose of Sharon, dyed in blood, 
 
 Some spice of Gilead's balm, 
 Some lily wafhed in Calvary's flood, 
 
 Some branch of heavenly palm ! 
 
 And let the drops of sparkling dew, 
 From Siloa's spring be fhed, 
 
Matins. 13 
 
 To form a fragrance frem and new, 
 A halo round thy head. 
 
 Spread then thy plumes of faith and prayer, 
 
 Nor fear to wend away ; 
 And let a glow of heavenly air, 
 
 Gild every earthly day ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 Consors paterr.i /uminis. 
 
 PURE Light of light ! eternal Day ! 
 Who doft the Father's brightness fhare 
 Our chant the midnight silence breaks ; — 
 Be nigh, and hearken to our prayer. 
 
 Scatter the darkness of our minds, 
 And turn the hofts of hell to flight ; 
 
 Let not our souls in floth repose, 
 And fleeping fink in endless night. 
 
 O Chrift ! for thy dear mercy's sake, 
 Spare us, who put our truft in Thee ; 
 
 Nor let our hymns ascend in vain 
 To thy immortal Majesty. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
14 Mati 
 
 NOW, while the herald bird of day 
 Proclaims the morning bright ; 
 Chrift also, speaking in the soul, 
 Wakes her to life and light. 
 
 " Take up your beds," we hear Him say, 
 
 " No more in number lie ; 
 In juftice, truth, and temperance, 
 
 Keep watch ; — Your Lord is nigh." 
 
 O Chrift ! and art Thou nigh indeed ? — 
 
 Then let us watch and weep ; 
 This truth but once in earneft felt 
 
 Forbids the heart to fleep. 
 
 Break, Lord, the spell that wraps us round 
 
 In deadly bonds of night ; 
 Shatter the chains of former guilt j 
 
 Renew in us thy light. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Matins. 
 
 Nox et tenebra et nubila. 
 
 YE mift and darkness, cloud and ftorm, 
 Confused creations of the night ; 
 Light enters — morning ftreaks the iky — 
 
 Chrift comes, — 'tis time ye take your flight. 
 
 Pierced by the sun's ethereal dart, 
 
 Night's gloomy mass is cleft in twain ; 
 
 And, in the smiling face of day, 
 Nature resumes her tints again. 
 
 O God, we know no sun but Thee ! 
 
 Shine in our souls divinely bright ! 
 We seek Thee in simplicity; 
 
 Through all our senses shed thy light. 
 
 A thousand objects all around 
 
 In false delufive colors fhine ; 
 To purge them clear, we ask, O Lord, 
 
 But one immortal beam of thine. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
1 6 Matins. 
 
 N 
 
 Lux ecce surgit aurea. 
 
 OW with the riling golden dawn, 
 Let us, the children of the day, 
 Caft off the darkness which so long 
 Has led our guilty souls aftray. 
 
 Oh, may the morn so pure, so clear, 
 Its own sweet calm in us inftil ; 
 
 A guileless mind, a heart fincere, 
 Simplicity of word and will : 
 
 And ever, as the day glides by, 
 May we the busy senses rein j 
 
 Keep guard upon the hand and eye, 
 Nor let the body suffer ftain. 
 
 For all day long, on Heaven's high tower, 
 There ftands a Sentinel, who spies 
 
 Our every action, hour by hour, 
 From early dawn till daylight dies. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 <_v W fl*3 
 
Matins. 
 
 GRANT us a body pure within ; 
 A wakeful heart, a ready will; 
 Grant us, by no deep cherifh'd fin, 
 The fervor of the soul to chill. 
 
 Fill Thou our souls, Redeemer true ! 
 
 With thy moft pure celeftial ray; 
 So may we walk in safety through 
 
 All the temptations of this day. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 UPON our fainting souls diftil 
 The grace of thy celeftial dew ; 
 Let no fresh snare to fin beguile, 
 No former fin revive anew. 
 
 Grant us the grace, for love of Thee, 
 
 To scorn all vanities below ; 
 Faith to detect each falfity ; 
 
 And knowledge, Thee alone to know. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
1 8 Matins. 
 
 THE ftar that heralds in the morn 
 Is fading in the fkies; 
 The darkness melts ; — O Thou true Light ! 
 Upon our souls arise. 
 
 Steep all our senses in thy beam ; 
 
 The world's false night expel ; 
 Purge each defilement from the soul, 
 
 And in our bosoms dwell. 
 
 Come, early Faith ! fix in our hearts 
 
 Thy root immovably ; 
 Come, smiling Hope ! and, laft not lead, 
 
 Immortal Charity ! 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Vespers. 
 
 VESPERS. 
 
 CHRISTMAS VESPER HYMN. 
 
 DEPART awhile, each thought of care, 
 Be earthly things forgotten all ; 
 And speak, my soul, thy vesper prayer ; 
 
 Obedient to that sacred call. 
 For hark ! the pealing chorus swells ; 
 
 Devotion chants the hymn of praise, 
 And now of joy and hope it tells, 
 Till fainting on the ear, it says — 
 Gloria tibi Domine, 
 Domine, Domine. 
 
 Thine, wondrous babe of Galilee ! 
 
 Fond theme of David's harp and song, 
 Thine are the notes of minftrelsy — 
 
 To thee its ransom'd chords belong. 
 And hark! again the chorus swells, 
 
 The song is wafted on the breeze, 
 And to the liftening earth it tells — 
 
 In accents soft and sweet as these — 
 Gloria tibi Domine. 
 
20 Vespers. 
 
 My heart doth feel that ftill He's near, 
 
 To meet the soul in hours like this, 
 Else — why, O why, that falling tear ! 
 
 When all is peace and love and blis; 
 But hark ! that pealing chorus swells 
 
 Anew, its thrilling vesper ftrain, 
 And ftill of joy and hope it tells, 
 
 And bids creation fing again — 
 Gloria tibi Domine. 
 
 y. Hugbc 
 
 COME, O Creator Spirit bleft ! 
 And in our souls take up thy reft ; 
 Come, with thy grace and heavenly aid, 
 To fill the hearts which Thou haft made. 
 
 Kindle our senses from above, 
 And make our hearts o'erflow with love ; 
 With patience firm, and virtue high, 
 The weakness of our flefh supply. 
 
 Far from us drive the foe we dread, 
 And grant us thy true peace inftead ; 
 So fhall we not, with Thee for guide, 
 Turn from the path of life afide. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Vespers. 
 
 THE pall of night o'erfhades the earth, 
 And hides the tints of day ; — 
 O Thou ! to whom no night comes near, 
 Dread Judge ! to Thee we pray ! 
 
 That Thou wilt all our guilt remove, 
 
 And our loft peace reftore ; 
 And of thy mercy grant that we 
 
 May grieve thy heait no more. 
 
 The guilty soul, which all too long 
 
 In lethargy hath lain, 
 Yearns to caft off her load, and seek 
 
 Her Saviour's face again. 
 
 Expel from her the darkness, Lord, 
 
 Of her internal night ; 
 Renew her bliss, — renew in her 
 
 Thy beatific light. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Vespe 
 
 *^ Who doft the world with light adorn, 
 And paint the tracts of azure fky 
 With lovely hues of eve and morn : 
 
 Who didft command the sun to light 
 His fiery wheel's effulgent blaze ; 
 
 Didft set the moon her circuit bright ; 
 The ftars their ever-winding maze : 
 
 That, each within its order'd sphere, 
 They might divide the night from day ; 
 
 And of the seasons through the year, 
 The well remember'd signs display : 
 
 Scatter our night, eternal God, 
 
 And kindle thy pure beam within ; 
 
 Free us from guilt's opprefiive load, 
 And break the deadly bonds of fin. 
 
 vtary. 
 
 THEE in the hymns of morn we praise; 
 To Thee our voice at eve we raise ; 
 Oh, grant us, with thy Saints on high, 
 Thee through all time to glorify. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Aspiration. 23 
 
 ASPIRATION. 
 
 PERFECTION. 
 
 OHOW the thought of God attrafts 
 And draws the heart from earth, 
 And fickens it of palling mows 
 And diffipating mirth ! 
 
 'Tis not enough to save our souls, 
 
 To shun the eternal fires ; 
 The thought of God will rouse the heart 
 
 To more sublime defires. 
 
 God only is the creature's home, 
 Though long and rough the road ; 
 
 Yet nothing less can satisfy 
 The love that longs for God. 
 
 O utter but the Name of God 
 Down in your heart of hearts, 
 
 And see how from the world at once 
 All tempting light departs. 
 
24 Aspiration. 
 
 A trufting heart, a yearning eye, 
 
 Can win their way above ; 
 If mountains can be moved by faith, 
 
 Is there less power in love ? 
 
 How little of that road, my soul ! 
 
 How little haft: thou gone ! 
 Take heart, and let the thought of God 
 
 Allure thee further on. 
 
 The freedom from all wilful fin, 
 The Chriftian's daily tafk, — 
 
 O these are graces far below 
 What longing love would aflc ! 
 
 Dole not thy duties out to God, 
 
 But let thy hand be free : 
 Look long at Jesus ; his sweet Blood, 
 
 How was it dealt to thee ? 
 
 The perfect way is hard to flefh ; 
 
 It is not hard to love ; 
 If thou wert fick for want of God, 
 
 How swiftly wouldfl: thou move ! 
 
 Good is the cloifter's filent fhade, 
 
 Cold watch and pining faft ; 
 Better the miflions wearing ftrife, 
 
 If there thy lot be caft. 
 
Aspiration. 
 
 25 
 
 Yet none of these perfection needs : — 
 Keep thy heart calm all day, 
 
 And catch the words the Spirit there 
 From hour to hour may say. 
 
 O keep thy conscience senfitive ; 
 
 No inward token miss ; 
 And go where grace entices thee ;- 
 
 Perfection lies in this. 
 
 Be docile to thine unseen Guide, 
 Love Him as He loves thee ; 
 
 Time and obedience are enough, 
 And thou a saint fhalt be ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
26 Aspiration. 
 
 THE ETERNAL FATHER. 
 
 OHOW I fear Thee, living God ! 
 With deepeft, tendered fears, 
 And worfhip Thee with trembling hope, 
 And penitential tears. 
 
 Yet I may love Thee too, O Lord ! 
 
 Almighty as Thou art, 
 For Thou haft ftooped to afk of me 
 
 The love of my poor heart. 
 
 O then this worse than worthless heart 
 
 In pity deign to take, 
 And make it love Thee for thyself 
 
 And for thy glory's sake. 
 
 No earthly father loves like Thee, 
 
 No mother half so mild 
 Bears and forbears, as Thou haft done, 
 
 With me thy finful child. 
 
 Only to fit and think of God — 
 O what a joy it is ! 
 
 To think the thought, to breathe the Name- 
 Earth has no hiahcr bliss ! 
 
Aspiration. 27 
 
 Father of Jesus ! love's Reward ! 
 
 What rapture will it be 
 Proftrate before thy throne to lie, 
 
 And gaze and gaze on Thee ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
 PECCATOR AD CHRISTUM. 
 
 MY spirit longeth for Thee 
 To dwell within my breaft ; 
 Although I am unworthy 
 Of so divine a Gueft ! 
 
 Of so divine a Gueft — 
 
 Unworthy though I be ; 
 Yet hath my heart no reft 
 
 Until it come to Thee ! 
 
 Until it come to Thee, — 
 
 In vain I look around ; 
 In all that I can see, 
 
 No rest is to be found ! 
 
 No reft is to be found, 
 
 But in thy bleeding love : 
 Oh! let my wifh be crown'd, 
 
 And send it from above ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
28 Aspiration. 
 
 CHRISTUS AD PECCATOREM. 
 
 CHEER up, desponding soul, 
 Thy longing pleased I see : 
 'Tis part of that great whole, 
 Wherewith I long'd for thee ! 
 
 Wherewith I long'd for thee, 
 And left my Father's throne ; 
 
 From death to set thee free, 
 And claim thee for my own ! 
 
 To claim thee for my own, 
 
 I suffer'd on the cross : 
 Oh ! were my love but known, 
 
 All else would be as dross ! 
 
 All else would be as dross ! 
 
 And souls, through grace divine, 
 Would count their gains but loss, 
 
 To live forever mine ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
Self-Consecration. 29 
 
 SELF-CONSECRATION. 
 
 FAITH OF OUR FATHERS. 
 
 FAITH of our Fathers ! living (till 
 In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword : 
 Oh how our hearts beat high with joy 
 
 Whene'er we hear that glorious word : 
 Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! 
 We will be true to thee till death ! 
 
 Our Fathers, chain'd in prisons dark, 
 Were ftill in heart and conscience free : 
 
 How sweet would be their children's fate, 
 If they, like them, could die for thee ! 
 
 Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! 
 
 We will be true to thee till death ! 
 
 Faith of our Fathers ! we will love 
 Both friend and foe in all our ftrife : 
 
 And preach thee too, as love knows how 
 By kindly words and virtuous life : 
 
 Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! 
 
 We will be true to thee till death ! 
 
 Faher. 
 
30 Self-Consecration. 
 
 THE VOW. 
 
 BRIGHT Angels who attend 
 Around our altar now, 
 Your wonted cares suspend, 
 
 Lift to the holy Vow, 
 Which, while the sacrifice 
 
 Of Heaven's eternal love, 
 Pleads for us every grace, 
 Is heard in heaven above. 
 
 Jesus ! my happy heart 
 
 Now gives itself to Thee, 
 O ! never hence depart, 
 
 Reign here eternally. 
 Thy sacred name alone, 
 
 All my delight shall prove ; 
 No joy my soul fhall own, 
 
 But in thy holy love. 
 
 And, oh ! in after years, 
 
 When life is fading faft, 
 When flow repentant tears, 
 
 Cancelling errors paft, 
 Still fhall that holy vow, 
 
 Be breathed to Heaven, 
 And fervently as now, 
 
 My heart to Thee be given. 
 
Self-Consecration. 
 
 31 
 
 HYMN FOR CONFIRMATION. 
 X 
 l\/rY God, accept my heart this day, 
 J-TJ. And make it always thine, — 
 That I from Thee no more may ftray, 
 No more from Thee decline. 
 
 Before the cross of Him who died, 
 
 Behold I proftrate fall : 
 Let every fin be crucified, — 
 
 Let Chrift be all in all ! 
 
 Anoint me with thy heavenly grace, 
 
 Adopt me for thine own, — 
 That I may see thy glorious face, 
 
 And worfhip at thy throne ! 
 
 May the dear blood, once fhed for me, 
 
 My bleft atonement prove, — 
 That I from firft to laft may be 
 
 The purchase of thy love ! 
 
 Let every thought, and work, and word, 
 
 To Thee be ever given, — 
 Then life fhall be thy service, Lord, 
 
 And death the gate of heaven. 
 
 Brydges. 
 
32 Self-Consecration. 
 
 JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. 
 
 Crux sublata. Matt. xvi. 24. 
 
 JESUS, — I my cross have taken, 
 All to leave and follow Thee ; 
 I am poor, despised, forsaken, — 
 
 Thou henceforth my all fhalt be : 
 Perish every fond ambition, — 
 
 All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; 
 Yet how rich is my condition, — 
 God and heaven are flill mine own ! 
 
 Let the world despise and leave me, 
 
 It has left my Saviour too ; 
 Human hearts and looks deceive me, 
 
 Thou art not like them untrue : 
 Whilft thy graces fhall adorn me, 
 
 God of wisdom, love, and might, — 
 Foes may hate, and friends may scorn me 
 
 Show thy face, and all is bright. 
 
 Go then, — earthly fame and treasure, 
 Come, disafter, scorn, and pain ; 
 
 In thy service, pain is pleasure, — 
 With thy favor, loss is gain. 
 
 I have called Thee, Abba Father ! 
 I have set my heart on Thee : 
 
Self-Consecration. 33 
 
 Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, 
 All will work for good to me. 
 
 Man may trouble and diftress me, 
 
 'Twill but drive me to thy breaft ; 
 Life with trials hard may press me 
 
 Heaven will bring me sweeter reft. 
 Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me 
 
 While thy love is left to me ; — 
 Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me, 
 
 Were that joy unmixed with Thee ! 
 
 Soul, — then know thy full salvation, 
 
 Rise o'er fin, and fear, and care ; 
 Joy to find in every ftation, 
 
 Something ftill to do or bear. 
 Think what spirit dwells within thee, 
 
 Think what Father's smiles are thine ; 
 Think that Jesus died to win thee : 
 
 Child of heaven, cans't thou repine ? 
 
 Hafte thee on from grace to glory, 
 
 Armed by faith, and winged by prayer, — 
 Heaven's eternal days before thee, 
 
 God's own hand fhall guide thee there. 
 Soon mall close thine earthly miflion, 
 
 Patience fhall thy spirit raise ; 
 Hope fhall change to glad fruition, 
 
 Faith to sight, and prayer to praise ! 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
34 Self-Consecration. 
 
 CONVERSION. 
 
 O FAITH ! thou worked miracles 
 Upon the hearts of men, 
 Choofing thy home in those same hearts. 
 We know not how or when. 
 
 To one thy grave unearthly truths 
 
 A heavenly vifion seem ; 
 While to another's eye they are 
 
 A superftitious dream. 
 
 To one the deepeft doctrines look 
 
 So naturally true, 
 That when he learns the leflbn firft 
 
 He hardly thinks it new. 
 
 To other hearts the selfsame truths 
 
 No light or heat can bring ; 
 They are but puzzling phrases ftrung 
 
 Like beads upon a firing. 
 
 O Gift of Gifts ! O Grace of Faith I 
 
 My God ! how can it be 
 That Thou, who haft discerning love, 
 
 Should'ft give that gift to me I 
 
Self-Consecration. 35 
 
 There was a place, there was a time, 
 
 Whether by night or day, 
 Thy Spirit came and left that gift, 
 
 And went upon his way. 
 
 How many hearts Thou might'ft have had 
 
 More innocent than mine ! 
 How many souls more worthy far 
 
 Of that sweet touch of thine ! 
 
 Ah Grace ! into unlikelieft hearts 
 
 It is thy boaft to come, 
 The glory of thy light to find 
 
 In darkeft spots a home. 
 
 How will they di®, how will they die, 
 
 How bear the cross of grief, 
 Who have not got the light of faith, 
 
 The courage of belief? 
 
 The crowd of cares, the weightier!: cross 
 Seem trifles less than light, — 
 
 Earth looks so little and so low 
 When faith mines full and bright. 
 
 O happy, happy that I am ! 
 
 If thou canft be, O Faith ! 
 The treasure that thou art in life, 
 
 What wilt thou be in death ? 
 
36 Self-Consecration. 
 
 Thy choice, O God of Goodness ! then 
 
 I lovingly adore ; 
 O give me grace to keep thy grace, 
 
 And grace to merit more ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
 PRAYER OF THE CONTRITE SINNER. 
 
 HAVE mercy Thou, mod gracious God ! 
 And my remittance fign ; 
 The more thy mercy (hall accord, 
 The greater glory thine. 
 
 Thou surely haft not said in vain : 
 
 " More joy in heaven is made, 
 For the loft iheep that's found again, 
 
 Than those which never stray'd." 
 
 Help'd by thy grace, no more I'll stray, 
 
 No more refift thy voice ; 
 Where Thou, good Shepherd, lead'ft the way, 
 
 That way fhall be my choice. 
 
 Too long, alas ! my wand'ring feet 
 
 The crooked paths have trod ; 
 Henceforth I'll follow, as is meet, 
 
 The sure unerring road. 
 
Self-Consecration. 37 
 
 If casual falls retard my pace, 
 With speed again I'll rise ; 
 
 With speed I'll reassume my race, 
 And run and gain the prize. 
 
 All praise, O Lord, to Thee alone, 
 
 Below, as 'tis above : 
 And may thy joys, Eternal One, 
 
 Both draw and crown my love. 
 
 HYMN OF ST. FRANCIS XAVIER. 
 O Deus, ego amo Tc. 
 
 MY God, I love Thee, not because 
 I hope for Heaven thereby ; 
 Nor because they who love Thee not, 
 Must burn eternally. 
 
 Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didft me 
 
 Upon the Cross embrace ; 
 For me didft bear the nails and spear, 
 
 And manifold disgrace ; 
 
 And griefs and torments numberless ; 
 
 And sweat of agony ; 
 E'en death itself — and all for one 
 
 Who was thine enemy. 
 
38 Self-Consecration. 
 
 Then why, O bleffed Jesu Chrift ! 
 
 Should I not love Thee well ; 
 Not for the sake of winning Heaven, 
 
 Or of escaping Hell : 
 
 Not with the hope of gaining aught ; 
 
 Not seeking a reward ; 
 But, as Thyself haft loved me, 
 
 O ever-loving Lord ? 
 
 E'en so I love Thee, and will love, 
 And in thy praise will fing ; 
 
 Solely because Thou art my God, 
 And my eternal King. 
 
 Missal. 
 
Trust. 
 
 39 
 
 TRUST. 
 
 THE RIGHT MUST WIN. 
 
 OIT is hard to work for God, 
 To rise and take his part 
 Upon this battle-field of earth, 
 And not sometimes lose heart! 
 
 He hides Himself so wondroufly, 
 As though there were no God ; 
 
 He is leaft seen when all the powers 
 Of ill are moll: abroad : 
 
 Or He deserts us at the hour 
 
 The fight is all but loft ; 
 And seems to leave us to ourselves 
 
 Juft when we need Him molt. 
 
 O there is less to try our faith, 
 
 In our myfterious creed, 
 Than in the godless look of earth 
 
 In these our hours of need. 
 
4 o 
 
 Trust. 
 
 
 Ill mafters good ; good seems to change 
 
 
 To ill with greateft ease ; 
 
 
 And, word of all, the good with good 
 
 
 Is at cross purposes. 
 
 
 The Church, the Sacraments, the Faith, 
 
 
 Their uphill journey take, 
 
 
 Lose here what there they gain, and, if 
 
 
 We lean upon them, break. 
 
 
 It is not so, but so it looks ; 
 
 And we lose courage then 
 And doubts will come if God hath kept 
 His promises to men. 
 
 Ah ! God is other than we think ; 
 
 His ways are far above, 
 Far beyond reason's height, and reach'd 
 
 Only by childlike love. 
 
 The look, the fafhion of God's ways 
 
 Love's lifelong ftudy are ; 
 She can be bold, and guess, and act, 
 
 When reason would not dare. 
 
 She has a prudence of her own ; 
 
 Her ftep is firm and free ; 
 Yet there is cautious science too 
 
 In her simplicity. 
 
Trust. 
 
 Workman of God ! O lose not heart, 
 But learn what God is like ; 
 
 And in the darkeft battle-field 
 
 Thou fhalt know where to ftrike. 
 
 O bless'd is he to whom is given 
 
 The inftincT: that can tell 
 That God is on the field, when He 
 
 Is moft invisible ! 
 
 And bless'd is he who can divine 
 
 Where real right doth lie, 
 And dares to take the side that seems 
 
 Wrong to man's blindfold eye ! 
 
 O learn to scorn the praise of men ! 
 
 O learn to lose with God ! 
 For Jesus won the world through fhame, 
 
 And beckons thee his road. 
 
 God's glory is a wondrous thing, 
 
 Moft ftrange in all its ways, 
 And, of all things on earth, leaft like 
 
 What men agree to praise. 
 
 As He can endless glory weave 
 From time's misjudging shame, 
 
 In his own world He is content 
 To play a lofing game. 
 
42 Trust. 
 
 Muse on his juftice, downcaft Soul! 
 
 Muse and take better heart ; 
 Back with thine angel to the field, 
 
 Good luck fhall crown thy part! 
 
 God's juftice is a bed where we 
 
 Our anxious hearts may lay, 
 And, weary with ourselves, may sleep 
 
 Our discontent away. 
 
 For right is right, since God is God ; 
 
 And right the day muft win ; 
 To doubt would be disloyalty, 
 
 To falter would be sin ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
Trust. 43 
 
 SURSUM CORDA. 
 
 LIFT up your hearts!" Yes, I will lift 
 My heart and soul, dear Lord, to Thee 
 Who every good and perfect gift 
 Vouchsaf'fl so lavifhly and free. 
 
 All that is beft, from Thee comes down 
 On us, with rich and ample ftore, 
 
 Thy bounteous hands our wilhes crown 
 With good, increasing more and more. 
 
 'Twas Thou that gave us life and breath, 
 It is thy hand that holds us frill, 
 
 That keeps us from the fleep of death, 
 And fhelters us from every ill. 
 
 Yea, more than corporal life, — thy love 
 Has promise given of life to come ; 
 
 And taught us, by the faith, above 
 All ills to soar, and burft the tomb. 
 
 Then, while I live, with ardent eye, 
 Let me look up to Thee, and learn, 
 
 From bleflings here, to look on high, 
 And purer bleflings there discern ! 
 
44 
 
 Trust. 
 
 All Thou haft given is thine, then take 
 Me, thine own gift, for all thine own, 
 
 And teach me every day to make 
 New vows of love to Thee alone ! 
 
 GOD AND HEAVEN. 
 
 THE silver chord in twain is snapp'd 
 The golden bowl is broken, 
 The mortal mould in darkness wrapp'd, 
 
 The words funereal spoken ; 
 The tomb is built, or the rock is cleft, 
 
 Or delved is the grafly clod, 
 And what for mourning man is left ? 
 O what is left — but God ! 
 
 The tears are fhed that mourn'd the dead, 
 
 The flowers they wore are faded ; 
 The twilight dun hath veil'd the sun, 
 
 And hope's sweet dreamings {haded : 
 And the thoughts of joy that were planted deep, 
 
 From our heart of hearts are riven ; 
 And what is left us when we weep ? 
 
 O what is left — but Heaven ! 
 
Trust. 
 
 THE WILL OF GOD. 
 
 " 'Thy iv ill be done.'''' 
 
 I WORSHIP thee, sweet Will of God! 
 And all thy ways adore, 
 And every day I live I seem 
 To love thee more and more. 
 
 Thou wert the end, the bleffed rule 
 
 Of Jesu's toils and tears ; 
 Thou wert the paflion of his Heart 
 
 Those Three-and-Thirty years. 
 
 And He hath breathed into my soul 
 
 A special love of thee, 
 A love to lose my will in his 
 
 And by that loss be free. 
 
 I love to see thee bring to naught 
 
 The plans of wily men ; 
 When fimple Hearts outwit the wise, 
 
 O thou art loveliest then ! 
 
 The headftrong world, it prefTes hard 
 
 Upon the Church full oft, 
 And then how eafily thou turn'ft 
 
 The hard ways into soft. 
 
 45 
 
46 Trust. 
 
 I love to kiss each print where thou 
 Haft set thine unseen feet : 
 
 I cannot fear thee, blefled Will ! 
 Thine empire is so sweet. 
 
 When obftacles and trials seem 
 
 Like prison-walls to be, 
 I do the little 1 can do, 
 
 And leave the reft to thee. 
 
 I have no cares, O Hefted Will ! 
 
 For all my cares are thine ; 
 I live in triumph, Lord ! for Thou 
 
 Haft made thy triumphs mine. 
 
 And when it seems no chance or change 
 From grief can set me free, 
 
 Hope finds its ftrength in helpleflhess, 
 And gaily waits on thee. 
 
 Man's weakness waiting upon God 
 
 Its end can never miss, 
 For men on earth no work can do 
 
 More angel-like than this. 
 
 Ride on, ride on triumphantly, 
 Thou glorious Will ! ride on ; 
 
 Faith's pilgrim sons behind thee take 
 The road that thou haft gone. 
 
Trust. 
 
 He always wins who sides with God, 
 
 To him no chance is loft ; 
 God's will is sweetest to him when 
 
 It triumphs at his coft. 
 
 Ill that He 'bleffes is our good, 
 
 And unbleft good is ill ; 
 And all is right that seems moft wrong, 
 
 If it be His sweet Will ! 
 
 47 
 
 Faber. 
 
 H 
 
 Dies ira, dies ilia. 
 
 [Crashaw's Translation.] 
 
 EAR'ST thou, my soul, what serious things 
 Both the Psalm and Sibyl lings, 
 
 Of a sure Judge, from whose fharp ray 
 The world in flames mail pass away ? 
 
 O that fire ! before whose face, 
 Heaven and Earth fhall find no place ; 
 O these eyes! whose angry light 
 Muft be the day of that dread night. 
 
 O that trump ! whose blaft fhall run 
 An even round with th' circling sun, 
 And urge the murmuring graves to bring 
 Pale mankind forth to meet his Kins:. 
 
48 Trust. 
 
 Horror of nature, hell and death ! 
 When a deep groan as from beneath 
 Shall cry, "We come! we come!" and all 
 The caves of night answer one call. 
 
 O that book! whose leaves so bright, 
 Will set the world in severe light : 
 O that Judge ! whose hand, whose eye, 
 None can endure — yet none can fly. 
 
 Ah ! thou poor soul, what wilt thou say ? 
 And to what patron choose to pray ? 
 When ftars themselves fhall ftagger, and 
 The moft firm foot no more than ftand. 
 
 But thou givefr. leave, dread Lord, that we 
 Take fhelter from Thyself in Thee ; 
 And, with the wings of thine own dove, 
 Fly to the sceptre of soft love. 
 
Trust. 
 
 MY GOD AND MY ALL. 
 
 Deus mens ct omnia. 
 
 49 
 
 WHILE Thou, O my God, art my help and defender, 
 No cares can o'erwhelm me, no terrors appall ; 
 The wiles and the snares of this world will but render 
 More lively my hope in my God and my all. 
 
 Yes ; Thou art my refuge in sorrow and danger ; 
 
 My ftrength when I suffer ; my hope when I fall ; 
 My comfort and joy in this land of the ftranger ; 
 
 My treasure, my glory, my God, and my all. 
 
 To Thee, deareft Lord, will I turn without ceafing, 
 Though grief may oppress me, or sorrow befall ; 
 
 And love Thee, till death, my bleft spirit releafing, 
 Secures to me Jesus, my God and my all. 
 
 And when Thou demanded the life Thou haft given, 
 With joy will I answer thy merciful call ; 
 
 And quit Thee on earth, but to find Thee in heaven, 
 My portion forever, my God and my all. 
 
 W. Young. 
 
50 Prayer. 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 Tclluris alme conditor. 
 
 O BOUNTEOUS Framer of the globe ! 
 Who with thy mighty hand 
 Didft gather up the rolling seas, 
 And firmly base the land : 
 
 That so the frefhly teeming earth 
 
 Might herb and seedling bear, 
 Standing in early beauty gay, 
 
 With flowers and fruitage fair : 
 
 On our parch'd souls pour Thou, O Lord, 
 
 The frefhness of thy grace ; 
 So penitence fhall spring anew, 
 
 And all the paft efface. 
 
 
 Grant us to fear thy holy law, 
 To feel thy goodness nigh ; 
 
 Grant us through life thy peace ; 
 Thine immortality. 
 
 ill death 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Prayer. 5 1 
 
 WHIT-SUNDAY. 
 Ven't Sancte Spiritus. 
 
 HOLY Spirit ! Lord of light ! 
 From thy clear celeftial height, 
 Thy pure beaming radiance give : 
 
 Come, Thou Father of the poor ! 
 Come, with treasures which endure ! 
 Come, Thou Light of all that live 
 
 Thou, of all consolers beft, 
 Viftting the troubled breaft, 
 Doft refrefhing peace beftow ; 
 
 Thou in toil art comfort sweet ; 
 Pleasant coolness in the heat ; 
 Solace in the midfr. of woe. 
 
 Light immortal ! light divine ! 
 Vifit Thou these hearts of thine, 
 And our inmoft being fill : 
 
 If Thou take thy grace away, 
 Nothing pure in man will ftay ; 
 All his good is turned to ill. 
 
52 Prayer. 
 
 Heal our wounds, — our ftrength renew 
 On our dryness pour thy dew ; 
 Wafh the ftains of guilt away : 
 
 Bend the ftubborn heart and will ; 
 Melt the frozen, warm the chill ; 
 Guide the fteps that go aftray. 
 
 Thou, on those who evermore 
 Thee confess and Thee adore, 
 In thy sevenfold gifts, descend : 
 
 Give them comfort when they die ; 
 
 Give them life with Thee on high ; 
 
 Give them joys which never end. 
 
 Missal. 
 
 Veni Creator. 
 
 CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid 
 The world's foundations firft were laid, 
 Come vifit every pious mind ; 
 Come pour thy joys on human kind ; 
 From fin and sorrow set us free 
 And make thy temples worthy Thee. 
 
 O source of uncreated light 
 The Father's promised Paraclete ! 
 
Prayer. 53 
 
 Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, 
 Our hearts with heavenly love inspire : 
 Come, and thy sacred unction bring, 
 To sanctify us while we fing. 
 
 Plenteous of grace, descend from high, 
 
 Rich in thy sevenfold energy ! 
 
 Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand, 
 
 Whose power does heaven and earth command, 
 
 Proceeding Spirit, our defence, 
 
 Who doft the gift of tongues dispense, 
 
 And crown thy gift with eloquence ! 
 
 Refine and purge our earthly parts : 
 But oh ! inflame and fire our hearts : 
 Our frailties help, our vice control — 
 Submit the senses to the soul : 
 And when rebellious they are grown, 
 Then lay thy hand, and hold them down. 
 
 Chase from our minds th' infernal foe, 
 And peace, the fruit of love, beftow ; 
 And left our feet fhould ftep aftray, 
 Protect and guide us in the way. 
 
 Make us eternal truth receive, 
 And practise all that we believe : 
 Give us Thyself, that we may see 
 The Father, and the Son, by Thee. 
 
 Tranjlated by Dry den. 
 
54 Prayer. 
 
 LENT. 
 
 Audi ben'igne Conditor. 
 
 THOU loving Maker of mankind, 
 Before thy throne we pray and weep ; 
 Oh, ftrengthen us with grace divine, 
 Duly this sacred Lent to keep. 
 
 Searcher of hearts ! Thou doft our ills 
 Discern, and all our weakness know : 
 
 Again to Thee with tears we turn ; 
 Again to us thy mercy fhow. 
 
 Much have we finn'd ; but we confess 
 Our guilt, and all our faults deplore : 
 
 Oh, for the praise of thy great Name, 
 Our fainting souls to health reftore ! 
 
 And grant us, while by fads we ftrive 
 
 This mortal body to control, 
 To faft from all the food of fin, 
 
 And so to purify the soul. 
 
 Hear us, O Trinity thrice bleft ! 
 
 Sole Unity! to Thee we cry: 
 Vouchsafe us from these fafts below 
 
 To reap immortal fruit on high. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Prayer. 55 
 
 Magna Deus potentia. 
 
 LORD of all power! at whose command, 
 The waters, from their teeming womb, 
 Brought forth the countless tribes of fifh, 
 And birds of every note and plume : 
 
 Who didft, for natures link'd in birth, 
 
 Far different homes of old prepare ; 
 Sinking the fifties in the sea ; 
 
 Lifting the birds aloft in air. 
 
 Lo ! born of thy baptismal wave, 
 
 We ask of Thee, O Lord divine! 
 "Keep us, whom Thou haft sanctified 
 
 In thy own Blood, forever thine. 
 
 " Safe from all pride, as from despair ; 
 
 Not sunk too low, nor raised too high 
 Left raised by pride, we headlong fall ; 
 
 Sunk in despair, lie down and die." 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Encouragement. 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT. 
 
 JESUS. 
 
 THE light of love is round his feet, 
 His paths are never dim ; 
 And He comes nigh to us when we 
 Dare not come nigh to Him. 
 
 Let us be simple with Him then, 
 Not backward, ftiff, or cold, 
 
 As though our Bethlehem could be 
 What Sinai was of old. 
 
 His love of us may teach us how 
 
 To love Him in return ; 
 Love cannot help but grow more free 
 
 The more its transports burn. 
 
 The solemn face, the downcaft eye, 
 The words conltrain'd and cold, — 
 
 These are the homage, poor at bell, 
 Of those outfide the fold. 
 
Encouragement. 5 7 
 
 O that they knew what Jesus was, 
 
 And what untold abyss 
 Lies in love's fimple forwardness 
 
 Of more than earthly bliss ! 
 
 O that they knew, what faith can work ! 
 
 What Sacraments can do ! 
 What fimple love is like, on fire 
 
 In hearts absolved and true ! 
 
 How can they tell how Jesus oft 
 
 His secret thirft will flake, 
 On those ftrange freedoms childlike hearts 
 
 Are taught by God to take ? 
 
 Poor souls ! they know not how to love ; 
 
 They feel not Jesus near ; 
 And they who know not how to love 
 
 Still less know how to fear. 
 
 The humbling of the Incarnate Word 
 
 They have not faith to face ; 
 And how shall they who have not faith 
 
 The awe that lies too deep for words, 
 Too deep for solemn looks, — 
 
 It finds no way into the face, 
 No spoken vent in books. 
 
58 Encouragement. 
 
 They would not speak in measured tones, 
 
 If love had in them wrought 
 Until their spirits had been hufh'd 
 
 In reverential thought. 
 
 They would have smiled in playful ways 
 
 To ease their fervid heart, 
 And learn'd with other fimple souls 
 
 To play love's crafty part. 
 
 They would have run away from God 
 
 For their own vileness' sake, 
 And fear'd left some interior light 
 
 From tell-tale eyes mould break. 
 
 They know not how the outward smile 
 
 The inward awe can prove ; 
 They fathom not the creature's fear 
 
 Of Uncreated Love. 
 
 The majefty of God ne'er broke 
 
 On them like fire at night, 
 Flooding their ftricken souls, while they 
 
 Lay trembling in the light. 
 
 They love not ; for they have not kiss'd 
 
 The Saviour's outer hem : 
 They fear not ; for the Living God 
 
 Is yet unknown to them ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
Encouragement. 50 
 
 ~l 
 
 OOLDIERS of Chrift! arise! 
 
 ^ And put your armor on, 
 
 Strong in the ftrength which God supplies 
 
 Through his eternal Son ; 
 Strong is the Lord of bofts, 
 
 And in his mighty power, 
 Who in the ftrength of Jesus trufts, 
 
 Is more than conqueror. 
 
 Soldiers of Chrift ! arise ! 
 
 The God of armies calls 
 Unto his manfions in the fkies — 
 
 His everlafting halls : 
 Behold ! the angel hoft appears 
 
 To welcome you to bliss ; 
 Oh ! what is earth, its fighs, and tears, 
 
 Its joys compared to this ! 
 
 Crufh'd is the haughty foe, 
 
 His might, his glory gone, 
 But ye with victory crown'd, mail go 
 
 To Chrift's eternal throne. 
 There fhall the conqueror reft, 
 
 And in that bleft abode, 
 Forever reign amid the bleft, 
 
 Triumphant with his God. 
 
6o Encouragement. 
 
 MARY MAGDALEN. 
 
 TO the hall of the feaft came the finful and fair ; 
 She heard in the city that Jesus was there ; 
 She mark'd not the splendor that blazed on their board ; 
 But filently knelt at the feet of her Lord. 
 
 The hair from her forehead, so sad and so meek, 
 Hung dark o'er the blushes that burn'd on her cheek ; 
 And so frill and so lowly fhe bent in her fhame, 
 It seem'd as her spirit had flown from its frame. 
 
 The frown and the murmur went round through them all, 
 That one so unhallow'd fhould tread in that hall ; 
 And some said the poor would be objects more meet 
 For the wealth of the perfumes fhe fhower'd at his feet. 
 
 She mark'd but her Saviour, fhe spoke but in fighs, 
 She dared not look up to the heaven of his eyes ; 
 And the hot tears gufh'd forth at each heave of her bread, 
 As her lips to his sandals fhe throbbingly prefT'd. 
 
 On the cloud, after tempefts, as fhineth the bow, 
 In the glance of the sun-beam, as melteth the snow, 
 He look'd on that loft one — her fins were forgiven ; 
 And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven. 
 
 Cat Li nan. 
 
Self-Examination. 6 1 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 THE GIFTS OF GOD. 
 
 MY soul ! what haft thou done for God ? 
 Look o'er thy miflpent years and see ; 
 Sum up what thou haft done for God, 
 And then what God hath done for thee. 
 
 He made thee when He might have made 
 A soul that would have loved Him more ; 
 
 He rescued thee from nothingness, 
 And set thee on life's happy more. 
 
 He placed an angel at thy fide, 
 
 And ftrewed joys round thee on thy way ; 
 He gave thee rights thou couldft not claim, 
 
 And life, free life, before thee lay. 
 
 Had God in heaven no work to do 
 
 But miracles of love for thee ? 
 No world to rule, no joy in Self 
 
 And in his own infinity ? 
 
62 Self-Examination. 
 
 So muft it seem to our blind eyes : 
 He gave his love no Sabbath reft, 
 
 Still plotting happiness for men, 
 
 And new defigns to make them bleft. 
 
 From out his glorious Bosom came 
 
 His only, his Eternal Son ; 
 He freed the race of Satan's slaves, 
 
 And with his Blood fin's captives won. 
 
 The world rose up againft his love ; 
 
 New love the vile rebellion met, 
 As though God only loolc'd at fin 
 
 Its guilt to pardon and forget. 
 
 For his Eternal Spirit came 
 
 To raise the thankless flaves to sons, 
 And with the sevenfold gifts of love 
 
 To crown his own elected ones. 
 
 Men spurned his grace ; their lips blasphemed 
 The love that made itself their flave : 
 
 They grieved that blefTed Comforter, 
 
 And turned againft Him what He gave. 
 
 Yet ftill the sun is fair by day, 
 The moon ftill beautiful by night ; 
 
 The world goes round, and joy with it, 
 And life, free life, is man's delight. 
 
Self- Examination. 63 
 
 No voice God's wondrous filence breaks, 
 No hand put forth his anger tells ; 
 
 But He, the Omnipotent and Dread, 
 On high in humbleft patience dwells. 
 
 The Son hath come ; and maddened fin 
 The world's Redeemer crucified ; 
 
 The Spirit comes, and ftays, while men 
 His presence doubt, his gifts deride. 
 
 And now the Father keeps Himself 
 
 In patient and forbearing love, 
 To be his creature's heritage 
 
 In that undying life above. 
 
 O wonderful, O pairing thought, 
 
 The love that God hath had for thee ! 
 
 Spending on thee no less a sum 
 Than the Undivided Trinity ! 
 
 Father, and Son, and Holy Ghofr, 
 Exhaufted for a thing like this, — 
 
 The world's whole government disposed 
 For one ungrateful creature's bliss ! 
 
 What haft thou done for God, my soul ? 
 
 Look o'er thy miflpent years and see ; 
 Cry from thy worse than nothingness, 
 
 Cry for his mercy upon thee! 
 
 Faber. 
 
64 Self-Examination. 
 
 SWEETNESS IN PRAYER. 
 
 WHY doft thou beat so quick, my heart ? 
 Why flruggle in thy cage ? 
 What fhall I do for thee, poor heart ! 
 Thy throbbing heat to suage ? 
 
 What spell is this come over thee ? 
 
 My soul ! what sweet surprise ? 
 And wherefore these unbidden tears 
 
 That ftart into mine eyes ? 
 
 How are my paflions laid to fleep, 
 
 How easy penance seems ! 
 And how the bright world fades away — 
 
 are they all but dreams ? 
 
 How great, how good does God appear, 
 
 How dear our holy faith ! 
 How tafteless life's beft joys have grown ! 
 
 How I could welcome death ! 
 
 Thy sweetness hath betrayed Thee, Lord ! 
 
 Dear Spirit ! it is Thou ; 
 Deeper and deeper in my heart 
 
 1 feel Thee neftlins now. 
 
Self-Examination. 65 
 
 Whence Thou haft come I need not afk ; 
 
 But, O moft gentle Dove ! 
 O wherefore haft Thou lit on one 
 
 That so repays thy love ? 
 
 Ah ! that Thou mighteft ftay with me, 
 
 Or else that I might die 
 While heart and soul are ftill subdued 
 
 With thy sweet maftery. 
 
 Thy home is with the humble, Lord ! 
 
 The fimple are thy reft ; 
 Thy lodging is in childlike hearts ; 
 
 Thou makeft there thy neft. 
 
 Dear Comforter ! Eternal Love ! 
 
 If Thou wilt ftay with me, 
 Of lowly thoughts and fimple ways 
 
 I'll build a neft for Thee. 
 
 My heart, sweet Dove ! I'll lend to Thee 
 
 To mourn with at thy will ; 
 My tongue fhall be thy lute to try 
 
 On finners' souls thy fkill. 
 
 Who made this beating heart of mine, 
 
 But Thou my heavenly Gueft ? 
 Let no one have it then but Thee, 
 
 And let it be thy neft. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 J 
 
66 Self-Examination. 
 
 DRYNESS IN PRAYER. 
 
 OFOR the happy days gone by, 
 When love ran smooth and free, 
 Days when my Spirit so enjoy'd 
 More than earth's liberty ! 
 
 O for the times when on my heart 
 
 Long prayer had never pall'd, 
 Times when the ready thought of God 
 
 Would come when it was call'd ! 
 
 Then when I knelt to meditate, 
 Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, 
 
 Countless and bright and beautiful, 
 Eeyond my own control. 
 
 O who hath lock'd those fountains up ? 
 
 Those vifions who hath fray'd ? 
 What sudden act hath thus transform'd 
 
 My sunfhine into made ? 
 
 This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will 
 
 Dry as the desert sand, 
 Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts 
 
 That come without command, — 
 
Self-Examination. 67 
 
 A faith that seems not faith, a hope 
 
 That cares not for its aim, 
 A love that none the hotter grows 
 
 At Jesu's blefTed name, — 
 
 The weariness of prayer, the mift 
 
 O'er conscience overspread, 
 The chill repugnance to frequent 
 
 The Feaft of Angels' Bread : — 
 
 If this drear change be thine, O Lord ! 
 
 If it be thy sweet will, 
 Spare not, but to the very brim 
 
 The bitter chalice fill. 
 
 But if it hath been fin of mine, 
 
 fhow that fin to me, 
 
 Not to get back the sweetness loft, 
 But to make peace with Thee. 
 
 One thing alone, dear Lord ! I dread ;— 
 
 To have a secret spot 
 That separates my soul from Thee, 
 
 And yet to know it not. 
 
 when the tide of graces set 
 So full upon my heart, 
 
 1 know, dear Lord ! how faithlessly 
 
 1 did my little part. 
 
68 Self-Examination. 
 
 I know how well my heart hath earn'd 
 
 A chaftisement like this, 
 In trifling many a grace away 
 
 In self-complacent bliss. 
 
 But if this weariness hath come 
 
 A present from on high, 
 Teach me to find the hidden wealth 
 
 That in its depths may lie. 
 
 So in this darkness I can learn 
 
 To tremble and adore, 
 To sound my own vile nothingness, 
 
 And thus to love Thee more, — 
 
 To love Thee, and yet not to think 
 
 That I can love so much, — 
 To have Thee with me, Lord ! all day, 
 
 Yet not to feel thy touch. 
 
 If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, 
 
 Hire which thy beauty fhow'd, 
 Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught, 
 
 And only as my God. 
 
 O blefled be this darkness then, 
 
 This deep in which I lie, 
 And blefled be all things that teach 
 
 God's great supremacy. 
 
 Faber. 
 
Self-Examination. 69 
 
 DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER. 
 
 AH ! deareft Lord ! I cannot pray, 
 My fancy is not free ; 
 Unmannerly diffractions come, 
 
 And force my thoughts from Thee. 
 
 The world that looks so dull all day 
 Glows bright on me at prayer, 
 
 And plans that afk no thought but then 
 Wake up and meet me there. 
 
 All nature one full fountain seems 
 
 Of dreamy fight and sound, 
 Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps, 
 
 And makes a deluge round. 
 
 Old voices murmur in my ear, 
 
 New hopes ftart into life, 
 And paft and future gayly blend 
 
 In one bewitching ftrife. 
 
 My very flefh has reftless fits; 
 
 My changeful limbs conspire 
 With all these phantoms of the mind 
 
 My inner self to tire. 
 
70 Self- Examination. 
 
 I cannot pray ; yet, Lord ! Thou know'ft 
 
 The pain it is to me 
 To have my vainly-ftruggling thoughts 
 
 Thus torn away from Thee. 
 
 Prayer was not meant for luxury, 
 
 Or -selfim paftime sweet j 
 It is the proftrate creature's place 
 
 At his Creator's feet. 
 
 Had I, dear Lord ! no pleasure found 
 
 But in the thought of Thee, 
 Prayer would have come unsought, and been 
 
 A truer liberty. 
 
 Yet Thou art eft moft present, Lord ! 
 
 In weak diftra&ed prayer ; 
 A finner out of heart with self 
 
 Moft often finds Thee there. 
 
 And prayer that humbles, sets the soul 
 
 From all illufions free, 
 And teaches it how utterly, 
 
 Dear Lord ! it hangs on Thee. 
 
 The soul, that on self-sacrifice 
 
 Is dutifully bent, 
 Will bless thy chaftening hand that makes 
 
 Its prayer its punimment. 
 
Self- Examination. 
 
 Ah, Jesus ! why fhould I complain ? 
 
 And why fear aught but fin ? 
 Diffractions are but outward things ; 
 
 Thy peace dwells far within! 
 
 These surface-troubles come and go, 
 
 Like rufflings of the sea ; 
 The deeper depth is out of reach 
 
 To all, my God, but Thee ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
 r PREPARATIVE TO PRAYER. 
 
 WHEN thou doft talk with God — by prayer I mean- 
 Lift up pure hands, lay down all luft's delires; 
 Fix thoughts on heaven, present a conscience clean : 
 
 Since holy blame to mercy's throne aspires, 
 Confess faults' guilt, crave pardon for thy fin, 
 Tread holy paths, call grace to guide therein. 
 
 It is the spirit with reverence must obey 
 
 Our Maker's will, to practise what He taught : 
 
 Make not the flefh thy council when thou pray ; 
 'Tis enemy to every virtuous thought ; 
 
 It is the foe we daily feed and clothe ; 
 
 It is the prison that the soul doth loathe. 
 
72 Self-Examination. 
 
 Even as Elias, mounting to the iky, 
 
 Did caft his mantle to the earth behind ; 
 
 So, when the heart presents the prayer on high, 
 Exclude the world from traffic with the mind : 
 
 Lips near to God, and ranging heart within, 
 
 Is but vain babbling, and converts to fin. 
 
 As Abraham, ascending up the hill 
 
 To sacrifice ; his servants left below, 
 That he might acl: the great Commander's will, 
 
 Without impeach to his obedient blow ; 
 Even so the soul, remote from earthly things, 
 Should mount salvation's fhelter — mercy's wings. 
 
 Southwell. 
 
Christ. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 73 
 
 PASTOR ANIMARUM. 
 
 (From the Spanish.) 
 
 COME, wandering fheep, O come ) 
 I'll bind thee to my breaft ; 
 I'll bear thee to thy home, 
 And lay thee down to reft. 
 
 I saw thee ftray forlorn, 
 And heard thee faintly cry, 
 
 And on the tree of scorn 
 For thee I deign'd to die — 
 What greater proof could I 
 
 Give, — than to seek the tomb ? 
 
 Come, wandering fheep, O come ! 
 
 I fhield thee from alarms, 
 And wilt thou not be bleft ? 
 
 I bear thee in my arms ; 
 
 Thou, bear me in thy breaft ! 
 O, this is love — come, reft — 
 
 This is a blissful doom. 
 
 Come, wandering fheep, O come ! 
 
7+ 
 
 Christ. 
 
 DOMUS AUREA. 
 
 LIGHT! Light! Infinite Light! 
 The mountains melted away : 
 Ten thousand thousand seraphim bright 
 
 Were loft in a blaze of day : 
 For God was there, and beneath his feet 
 
 A pavement of sapphires glow'd,* 
 As the mirror of glory transcendantly meet 
 To reflect his own abode ! 
 
 Love ! Love ! Infinite Love ! 
 
 The lowly Lady of grace 
 Bows underneath the o'erfhadowing Dove, 
 
 Her eternal Son to embrace ! 
 For God is there, the Ancient of Days, 
 
 An Infant of human years : 
 Whilft angels around them inceflantly gaze, 
 
 And nature is wrapt in tears ! 
 
 Peace ! Peace ! Infinite Peace ! 
 
 A Golden House hath it found, 
 Whose ineffable beauty muft ever increase 
 
 With immortality crown'd ! 
 For God was there, the Lord of the skies, 
 
 Whose loud alleluias ran, 
 From heaven to earth, — as Emmanuel lies 
 
 In the arms of Mary for man ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 * Exodua xxiv. io. 
 
Christ. 75 
 
 Jesu dulc'is metnoria. 
 
 JESU ! the very thought of Thee 
 With sweetness fills my breaft ; 
 But sweeter far thy face to see, 
 And in thy presence reft. 
 
 Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, 
 
 Nor can the memory find, 
 A sweeter sound than thy bleft name, 
 
 O Saviour of mankind ! 
 
 O hope of every contrite heart, 
 
 O joy of all the meek, 
 To those who fall, how kind Thou art ! 
 
 How good to those who seek ! 
 
 But what to those who find ? ah ! this 
 Nor tongue nor pen can show : 
 
 The love of Jesus, what it is, 
 None but his loved ones know. 
 
 Jesus ! our only joy be Thou, 
 
 As Thou our prize wilt be ; 
 Jesus ! be Thou our glory now, 
 
 And through eternity. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
7 6 Christ. 
 
 Jesu Rex admirabilis. 
 
 O JESUS ! King moft wonderful ! 
 Thou Conqueror renown'd ! 
 Thou Sweetness moft ineffable ! 
 In whom all joys are found ! 
 
 When once Thou vifiteft the heart, 
 
 Then truth begins to fhine ; 
 Then earthly vanities depart ; 
 
 Then kindles love divine. 
 
 O Jesu ! Light of all below ! 
 
 Thou Fount of life and fire ! 
 SurpafTing all the joys we know, 
 
 All that we can defire : 
 
 May every heart confess thy name, 
 
 And ever Thee adore ; 
 And seeking Thee, itself inflame 
 
 To seek Thee more and more. 
 
 Thee may our tongues forever bless ; 
 
 Thee may we love alone ; 
 And ever in our lives express 
 
 The image of thine own. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Christ. 77 
 
 Jesu decus angel 'i cum. 
 
 OJESU ! Thou the beauty art 
 Of angel worlds above ; 
 Thy name is mufic to the heart, 
 Enchanting it with love. 
 
 Celeftial sweetness unalloy'd ! 
 
 Who eat Thee hunger ftill ; 
 Who drink of Thee (till feel a void, 
 
 Which naught but Thou can fill. 
 
 O my sweet Jesu ! hear the fighs 
 
 Which unto Thee I send ; 
 To Thee mine inmoft spirit cries, 
 
 My being's hope and end ! 
 
 Stay with us, Lord, and with thy light 
 
 Illume the soul's abyss ; 
 Scatter the darkness of our night, 
 
 And fill the world with bliss. 
 
 O Jesu ! spotless Virgin flower ! 
 
 Our life and joy ! to Thee 
 Be praise, beatitude, and power, 
 
 Through all eternity. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
78 Christ. 
 
 Marentes oculi spargite lachrymas. 
 
 NOW let us fit and weep, 
 And fill our hearts with woe : 
 Pondering the fhame, and torments deep, 
 Which Chrift from wicked men did undergo. 
 
 See ! how the multitude, 
 With swords and ftaves, draw nigh : 
 See ! how they smite, with buffets rude, 
 That head divine of awful majefly : 
 
 How, bound with cruel cord, 
 Chrift to the scourge is given ; 
 And ruffians lift their hands, unawed, 
 Againft the King of Kings and Lord of Heaven. 
 
 Then roughly dragg'd to death, 
 Chrift on the Cross is (lain ; 
 And, as He dies, with parting breath, 
 Into his Father's hands gives back his soul again. 
 
 To Him who so much bore, 
 To gain for finners grace, 
 Be praise and glory evermore, 
 From the whole universal human race. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Christ. 
 
 §lu'icunque certum quart tis. 
 
 ALL ye who seek a certain cure 
 In trouble and diftress, 
 Whatever sorrow vex the mind, 
 Or guilt the soul oppress : 
 
 Jesus, who gave Himself for you 
 
 Upon the Cross to die, 
 Opens to you his sacred Heart, — 
 
 Oh, to that Heart draw nigh ! 
 
 Ye hear how kindly He invites ; 
 
 Ye hear his words so bleft ; — 
 " All ye that labor, come to Me, 
 
 And I will give you reft." 
 
 What meeker than the Saviour's Heart ?- 
 
 As on the Cross He lay, 
 It did his murderers forgive, 
 
 And for their pardon pray. 
 
 O Heart ! thou joy of Saints on high ! 
 
 Thou Hope of finners here ! 
 Attracted by those loving words, 
 
 To Thee I lift my prayer. 
 
 79 
 
80 Christ. 
 
 Warn Thou my wounds in that dear Blood 
 Which forth from Thee doth flow ; 
 
 New grace, new hope inspire ; a new 
 And better heart beltow. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 Summi Parentis jilio. 
 
 TO Chrift, the Prince of Peace, 
 And Son of God moft high, 
 The Father of the world to come, — 
 Sing we with holy joy. 
 
 Deep in his Heart for us 
 The wound of love He bore ; — 
 That love, which frill He kindles in 
 The hearts that Him adore. 
 
 O Fount of endless life ! 
 O Spring of waters clear! 
 O Flame celeftial, cleanfmg all 
 Who unto Thee draw near! 
 
 Hide me in thy dear Heart, 
 For thither do I fly ; 
 There seek thy grace through life, in death 
 Thine immortality. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Christ. 
 
 JESUS CRUCIFIED. 
 
 OCOME and mourn with me awhile ; 
 See, Mary calls us to her fide ; 
 O come and let us mourn with her, — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 Have we no tears to fhed for Him, 
 While soldiers scoff and Jews deride ? 
 
 Ah ! look how patiently he hangs, — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 His Mother cannot reach his face ! 
 
 She ftands in helpleflhess befide, 
 Her heart is martyr'd with her Son's, — 
 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 Seven times He spoke, seven words of love, 
 And all three hours his filence cried 
 
 For mercy on the souls of men : — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 What was thy crime, my deareft Lord ? 
 
 By earth, by heaven, Thou haft been tried, 
 And guilty found of too much love ; — 
 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified! 
 
 F 
 
82 Christ. 
 
 Found guilty of excess of love, 
 
 It was thine own sweet will that tied 
 
 Thee tighter far than helpless nails ; — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 Death came, and Jesus meekly bow'd ; 
 
 His failing eyes He ftrove to guide 
 With mindful love to Mary's face ; — 
 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 O break, O break, hard heart of mine ! 
 
 Thy weak self-love and guilty pride 
 His Pilate and his Judas were ; — 
 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 Come, take thy ftand beneath the Cross, 
 And let the blood from out that side 
 
 Fall gently on thee drop by drop ; — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 A broken heart, a fount of tears, — 
 Afk, and they will not be denied ; 
 
 A broken heart love's cradle is ; — 
 Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 
 
 O love of God ! O sin of Man ! 
 
 In this dread acl your ftrength is tried 
 And victory remains with love, 
 
 For He, our 
 
Christ. 83 
 
 EASTER. 
 
 Ad regias agni dapes. 
 
 NOW at the Lamb's high royal feaft 
 In robes of saintly white we fing, 
 Through the Red Sea in safety brought 
 By Jesus our immortal King. 
 
 O depth of love ! for us He drinks 
 
 The chalice of his agony : 
 For us a victim on the Cross 
 
 He meekly lays Him down to die. 
 
 And as the avenging Angel pass'd 
 Of old the blood-besprinkled door ; 
 
 As the cleft sea a paffage gave, 
 
 Then closed to whelm th' Egyptians o'er 
 
 So Chrift, our Paschal Sacrifice, 
 
 Has brought us safe all perils through ; 
 
 While for unleaven'd bread we need 
 But heart fincere and purpose true. 
 
 Hail, pureft victim Heaven could find, 
 The powers of Hell to overthrow ! 
 
 Who didft the chains of Death deftroy ; 
 Who doft the prize of Life beftow. 
 
84 Christ. 
 
 Hail, vi&or Chrift ! hail, risen King ! 
 
 To Thee alone belongs the crown ; 
 Who haft the heavenly gates unbarr'd, 
 
 And dragg'd the Prince of darkness down. 
 
 O Jesus ! from the death of fin 
 
 Keep us we pray ; so fhalt Thou be 
 
 The everlafting Paschal joy 
 
 Of all the souls new-born in Thee. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 LIGHT of the Soul, O Saviour bleft ! 
 Soon as thy presence fills the breaft, 
 Darkness and guilt are put to flight, 
 And all is sweetness and delight. 
 
 Son of the Father ! Lord moft high ! 
 How glad is he who feels Thee nigh ! 
 How sweet in Heaven thy beam doth glow, 
 Denied to eye of flefh below ! 
 
 O Light of Light celeftial ! 
 
 O Charity ineffable ! 
 
 Come in thy hidden majefty ; 
 
 Fill us with love, fill us with Thee. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Christ. 85 
 
 Dies tree dies ilia. 
 
 NIGHER ftill, and ftill more nigh 
 Draws the Day of Prophecy, 
 Doom'd to melt the earth and iky. 
 
 Oh, what trembling there fhall be, 
 When the world its Judge fhall see, 
 Coming in dread majefty ! 
 
 Hark ! the trump, with thrilling tone, 
 From sepulchral regions lone, 
 Summons all before the throne : 
 
 Time and Death it doth appall, 
 To see the buried ages all 
 Rise to answer at the call. 
 
 Now the books are open spread ; 
 Now the writing muft be read, 
 Which condemns the quick and dead : 
 
 Now, before the Judge severe 
 Hidden things muft all appear ; 
 Naught can pass unpunifh'd here. 
 
86 Christ. 
 
 What fhall guilty I then plead ? 
 
 Who for me will intercede, 
 
 When the Saints fhall comfort need ? 
 
 King of dreadful Majefty ! 
 Who doft freely juftify ! 
 Fount of Pity, save Thou me ! 
 
 Recollect, O Love divine ! 
 'Twas for this loft fheep of thine 
 Thou thy glory didft refign : 
 
 Sateft wearied seeking me ; 
 Sufferedft upon the tree : 
 Let not vain thy labor be. 
 
 Judge of Juftice, hear my prayer ! 
 Spare me, Lord, in mercy spare! 
 Ere the Reckoning-day appear. 
 
 Lo ! thy gracious face I seek ; 
 Shame and grief are on my cheek ; 
 Sighs and tears my sorrow speak. 
 
 Thou didft Mary's guilt forgive ; 
 Didft the dying thief receive ; 
 Hence doth hope within me live. 
 
Christ. 87 
 
 Suppliant in the duft I lie ; 
 
 My heart a cinder, crufh'd and dry ; 
 
 Help me, Lord, when death is nigh ! 
 
 Full of tears, and full of dread, 
 Is the day that wakes the dead, 
 Calling all, with solemn blaft, 
 From the afb.es of the pari. 
 
 Lord of mercy ! Jesu bleft ! 
 Grant the Faithful light and reft. 
 
 Missal. 
 
 Salutis humancs Sator. 
 
 OTHOU pure light of souls that love, 
 True joy of every human breaft, 
 Sower of life's immortal seed, 
 
 Our Saviour and Redeemer bleft ! 
 
 Be Thou our guide, be Thou our goal ; 
 
 Be Thou our pathway to the fkies ; 
 Our joy, when sorrow fills the soul ; 
 
 In death our everlafting prize. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Christ. 
 
 ROCK OF AGES. 
 
 ROCK of Ages, cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ; 
 Let the water and the blood, 
 From thy wounded side which flowed, 
 Be of sin the double cure ; 
 Save from wrath and make me pure. 
 
 In my hand no price I bring, 
 Simply to thy Cross I cling ; 
 Naked come to Thee for dress, 
 Helpless look to Thee for grace, 
 Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; 
 Wash me, Saviour, or I die. 
 
 While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 When my eyes mall close in death, 
 When I rise to worlds unknown, 
 And behold Thee on thy throne ; 
 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee. 
 
 Toplac 
 
Christ. 89 
 
 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 Dies ira, dies ilia. 
 
 LO ! He comes with clouds descending, 
 Once for favor'd Tinners flain : 
 Thousand — thousand saints attending, 
 Swell the triumph of his train : 
 Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
 Jesus Chrift (hall ever reign ! 
 
 See the universe in motion, 
 
 Sinking on her funeral pyre, — 
 Earth diffolving, and the ocean 
 
 Vanifhing in final fire : — 
 
 Hark, the trumpet ! Hark, the trumpet ! 
 
 Loud proclaims that Day of Ire ! 
 
 Graves have yawn'd in countless numbers,- 
 
 From the duft the dead arise : 
 Millions, out of filent (lumbers, 
 
 Wake in overwhelm'd surprise ; 
 
 Where creation, — Where creation, 
 
 Wreck'd and torn in ruin lies ! 
 
 See the Judge our nature wearing, 
 
 Pure, ineffable, divine : — 
 See the great Archangel bearing 
 
90 Christ. 
 
 High in heaven the myftic fign : 
 Cross of Glory ! Cross of Glory ! 
 Chrift be in that moment mine ! 
 
 See Redemption,* long expe&ed, 
 In transcendant pomp appear, — 
 
 All his saints by man rejected, 
 
 Throng in gathering legions near : 
 
 Melt, ye mountains! Melt, ye mountains! 
 
 Into smoke, — for God is here! 
 
 Every eye fhall then behold Him 
 
 Robed in awful majefty : — 
 Those that set at naught, and sold Him, 
 
 Pierced and nail'd Him to a tree, — 
 
 Deeply wailing, — Deeply wailing, 
 
 Shall the true Meffiah see! 
 
 Lo! the laft long separation! 
 
 As the cleaving crowds divide ; 
 And one dread adjudication 
 
 Sends each soul to either fide ! 
 
 Lord of mercy! Lord of mercy! 
 
 How fhall I that day abide ! 
 
 Oh! may thine own Bride and Spirit 
 Then avert a dreadful doom, — 
 
 And me summon to inherit 
 An eternal blissful home : — 
 * Romans viii. 23. 
 
Christ. 9 1 
 
 Ah ! come quickly ! Ah ! come quickly ! 
 Let thy second Advent come ! 
 
 Yea, Amen ! Let all adore Thee, 
 
 On thine amaranthine throne ! 
 Saviour, — take the power and glory, 
 
 Claim the kingdom for thine own ! 
 
 Men and angels : Men and angels, 
 
 Kneel and bow to Thee alone ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 Tinctam ergo Christi sanguine. 
 
 OH, turn those bleffed points, all bathed 
 In Jesu's blood, on me ; 
 Mine were the fins that wrought his death, 
 Mine be the penalty. 
 
 Pierce through my feet, my hands, my heart : 
 
 So may some drop diftill 
 Of blood divine, into my soul, 
 
 And all its evils heal. 
 
 So fhall my 
 
 feet be flow to fin, 
 
 
 
 Harmless 
 
 my hands fhall be ; 
 
 
 
 So from my 
 
 wounded heart fhall 
 
 each 
 
 
 Forbidden 
 
 paflion flee. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Brev 
 
 ary. 
 
92 Christ. 
 
 MOST HOLY NAME OF JESUS. 
 
 OH ! that it were as it was wont to be, 
 When thy old friends of fire, all full of Thee, 
 Fought againft frowns with smiles ! gave glorious chase 
 To persecutions, and againft the face 
 Of death and fierceft dangers durft, with brave 
 And sober pace march on to meet a grave. 
 On their bold breafts about the world they bore Thee. 
 And to the teeth of hell ftood up to teach Thee ; 
 In centre of their inmoft souls they wore Thee, 
 Where racks and torments ftrived in vain to reach Thee 
 Each wound of theirs was thy new morning, 
 And reenthroned Thee in thy rosy neft. 
 With blufh of thine own blood thy day adorning : 
 It was the wit of love o'erflowed the bounds 
 Of wrath, and made the way through all these wounds. 
 Welcome, dear, all-adored name ! 
 For sure there is no knee 
 That knows not Thee ; 
 
 Or, if there be such sons of fhame, 
 Alas ! what will they do, 
 
 When ftubborn rocks (hall bow, 
 And hills hang down their heaven-saluting heads, 
 To seek for humble beds 
 
 Of duft, where, in the bafhful fhades of night, 
 Next to their own low nothing they may lie, 
 
Christ. 
 
 93 
 
 And crouch before the dazzling light of thy dread majeiry ? 
 They that by love's mild dictate now 
 
 Will not adore Thee, 
 Shall then with just confufion bow, 
 
 And break before Thee. 
 
 Crashaw. 
 
 RISE— GLORIOUS CONQUEROR, RISE. 
 
 RISE — glorious Conqueror, rise ; 
 Into thy native ikies, — 
 Aflume thy right : 
 And where in many a fold 
 The clouds are backward roll'd — 
 Pass through those gates of gold, 
 And reign in light ! 
 
 Victor o'er death and hell! 
 Cherubic legions swell 
 
 The radiant train : 
 Praises all heaven inspire ; 
 Each angel sweeps his lyre, 
 And waves his wings of fire, — 
 
 Thou Lamb once slain ! 
 
 Enter, Incarnate God ! — 
 No feet, but thine, have trod 
 The serpent down : 
 
94 Christ. 
 
 Blow the full trumpets, blow ! 
 Wider yon portals throw ! 
 Saviour — triumphant — go, 
 And take thy crown ! 
 
 Lion of Judah — Hail ! — 
 And let thy name prevail 
 
 From age to age : 
 Lord of the rolling years, — 
 Claim for thine own the spheres, 
 For Thou hast bought with tears 
 
 Thy heritage ! 
 
 Yet — who are these behind, 
 In numbers more than mind 
 
 Can count or say — 
 Clothed in immortal stoles, 
 Illumining the poles — 
 A galaxy of souls, 
 
 In white array ? 
 
 And then was heard afar 
 Star answering to star — 
 
 Lo ! these have come, 
 Followers of Him, who gave 
 His life, their lives to save ; 
 And now their palms they wave, 
 
 Brought safely home. 
 
 Brydges. 
 
Christ. 95 
 
 HEAD of the Hofts in glory ! 
 We joyfully adore Thee, — 
 Thy church on earth below, 
 Blending with those on high, — 
 Where through the azure sky 
 Thy saints in ecftasy, — 
 For ever glow ! 
 
 Then raise the song of gladness, 
 To diffipate our sadness — 
 
 Along this vale of tears : 
 We wend our weary way 
 Up towards the realms of day, — 
 And watch, — and wait, — and pray, 
 
 Conftant in fears ! 
 
 Holy Apoftles ! beaming 
 
 With radiance brightly ftreaming 
 
 From diadems of power ; 
 Call on the awful name, — 
 That we, through flood and flame 
 The gospel may proclaim 
 
 In every hour ! 
 
 Martyrs ! — whose myftic legions 
 March o'er yon heavenly regions 
 In triumph round and round ; 
 
g6 Christ. 
 
 Wave — wave your banners — wave ! 
 For Christ — our Saviour, clave 
 For Death itself a grave, — 
 In hell profound ! 
 
 Saints ! — in fair circles, carting 
 Rich trophies everlafting 
 
 At Jesu's pierced feet, — 
 Amidst our rude alarms, 
 Stretch forth your conquering arms, 
 That we too, safe from harms, 
 
 In heaven may meet ! 
 
 Virgins ! — in bliss transcendent, 
 Whose coronals resplendent 
 
 Unwithering bloom : 
 Exalt, in ceaseless lays, 
 Him whom all anthems praise, 
 And oft our spirits raise 
 
 With your perfume ! 
 
 Angels — Archangels ! glorious 
 Guards of the church victorious ! 
 
 Sing to the Lamb ! 
 Crown Him with crowns of light, — 
 One of the Three by right, — 
 Love, — Majesty, — and Might, — 
 
 The Great I am ! 
 
 Bryiges. 
 
Christ. 97 
 
 "AND JESUS WEPT." 
 St. John xi. 35. 
 
 BRIGHT were the mornings first impearl'd 
 O'er earth, and sea, and air ; 
 The birthdays of a rifing world — 
 For power divine was there. 
 
 But fairer shone the tears of Christ 
 
 For Lazarus, o'er his grave ; 
 Since love divine bedew'd the sod 
 
 Of one He sought to save. 
 
 Sweet drops of grace, the pledges given 
 
 Of Mercy's mighty plan, — 
 That He, who was the Prince of heaven, 
 
 Had pity upon man ! 
 
 Let us thy dear example, Lord, 
 
 Fix'd in our memories keep, — 
 That we, obedient to thy word, 
 
 May weep with those that weep. 
 
 Brydges 
 
98 Christ. 
 
 BRIGHT cherubim and seraphim, 
 In one myfterious crowd, 
 Expand the everlafting hymn 
 That rolls from cloud to cloud. 
 
 Odors, in folds of fragrant fumes, 
 
 Pervade the ravifh'd ikies ; 
 Whilst angels form, with arching plumes, 
 
 A firmament of eyes ! * 
 
 They gaze, and as they gaze, they shine, 
 
 And as they shine, admire, 
 With adoration all divine, — 
 
 All love,— all life,— all fire ! 
 
 No temple there is made with hands 
 
 By human priefthood trod ; 
 Alone the once-slain Victim stands, 
 
 The living Lamb of God ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 * Ezek. i. 18-23 : x. 12. Apocal. iv. 8. 
 
Christ. 
 
 99 
 
 ^uicunque Christum quaritis. 
 
 ALL ye who seek, in hope and love, 
 For your dear Lord, look up above! 
 Where, traced upon the azure fky, 
 Faith may a glorious form descry. 
 
 Lo ! on the trembling verge of li 
 A something all divinely bright! 
 Immortal, infinite, sublime ! 
 Older than chaos, space, or time ! 
 
 Hail, Thou, the Gentiles' mighty Lord! 
 All hail, O Israel's King adored ! 
 To Abraham sworn in ages paft, 
 And to his seed while earth shall laft. 
 
 To Thee the prophets witness bear ; 
 Of Thee the Father doth declare, 
 That all who would his glory see, 
 Muft hear and mufr believe in Thee. 
 
 Brev 
 
 lary. 
 
Saints^ Martyr s, &c. 
 
 SAINTS, MARTYRS, &c. 
 
 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 Antra deserti tcnerls sub annis. 
 
 IN caves of the lone wilderness thy youth 
 Thou hiddeft, fhunning the rude throng of men, 
 And guarding the pure treasure of thy soul 
 From the leaft touch of fin. 
 
 There to thy sacred limbs the camel gave 
 A garment coarse ; the rock, a bed supplied ; 
 The ftream thy thirft ; locufts and honey wild 
 Thy hunger satisfied. 
 
 Oh, bleft beyond the Prophets of old time ! 
 They of the Saviour sang that was to be : 
 Him present to announce, and show to all, 
 Was granted but to thee. 
 
 Through the wide earth was never mortal man 
 Born holier than John ; to whom was given 
 The guilty world's Baptizer to baptize, 
 And ope the door of Heaven, 
 
 Brtviary, 
 
Saints., Martyrs^ &c. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Christc, sanctorum dccus angelorum. 
 
 O CHRIST ! the beauty of the angel worlds ! 
 Of man the Saviour and Redeemer bleft ! 
 Grant us one day to mount the path of light, 
 And in thy glory reft. 
 
 Angel of Peace ! thou, Michael, from above, 
 Come down, amid the homes of man to dwell ; 
 And banish wars, with all their tears and blood, 
 Back to their native Hell. 
 
 Angel of Strength ! thou, Gabriel, cart out 
 Thine ancient foes, usurpers of thy reign ; 
 The temples of thy triumph round the globe 
 Revifit once again. 
 
 And Raphael, Physician of the soul, — 
 Let him descend from his pure halls of light, 
 To heal the fick, and guide each doubtful course 
 Through all our life aright. 
 
 Thou too, O Virgin, with the angel choirs, 
 Mother of Light, and Queen of Peace ! descend 
 And bring with thee the radiant Court of Heaven 
 Thy children to befriend. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Saints, Martyrs, cs'c. 
 
 OF MANY MARTYRS. 
 Sanctorum mentis inclyta gaudia. 
 
 SING we the peerless deeds of martyr'd Saints, 
 Their glorious merits, and their portion bleft ; 
 Of all the conquerors the world has seen, 
 The greateft and the belt. 
 
 Them in their day th' insensate world abhorr'd, 
 Because they did forsake it, Lord, for Thee ; 
 Finding it all a barren wafte, devoid 
 Of fruit, or flower, or tree. 
 
 They trod beneath them every threat of man, 
 And came victorious all torments through ; 
 The iron hooks, which piecemeal tore their flesh, 
 Could not their souls subdue. 
 
 Scourged, crucified, like fheep to flaughter led, 
 Unmurmuring they met their cruel fate ; 
 For conscious innocence their souls upheld, 
 In patient virtue great. 
 
 What tongue those joys, O Jesus, can disclose, 
 Which for thy martyr'd Saints Thou doit prepare ! 
 Happy who in thy pains, thrice happy those 
 Who in thy glory (hare ! 
 
Saints, Martyrs, &c. 103 
 
 Our faults, our fins, our miseries remove, 
 Great Deity supreme, immortal King ! 
 Grant us thy peace, grant us thine endless love 
 Through endless years to Ting. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 JEterna Christi munera. 
 
 THE Lord's eternal gifts, 
 Th' Apoftles' mighty praise, 
 Their victories, and high reward, 
 Sing we in joyful lays. 
 
 Lords of the churches they ; 
 Triumphant Chiefs of war ; 
 Brave Soldiers of the Heavenly Court; 
 True lights for evermore. 
 
 Theirs was the Saints' high Faith ; 
 And quenchless Hope's pure glow ; 
 And perfect Charity, which laid 
 The world's fell tyrant low. 
 
 In them the Father fhone ; 
 In them the Son o'ercame ; 
 In them the Holy Spirit wrought, 
 And fill'd their hearts with flame. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
[04 Saints, Martyrs, &c. 
 
 ST. STEPHEN. 
 
 qui tuo dux Marty rum. 
 
 O CAPTAIN of the Martyr Hoft ! 
 O peerless in renown ! 
 Not from the fading flowers of earth 
 Weave we for thee a crown. 
 
 The ftones that smote thee, in thy blood 
 
 Made glorious and divine, 
 All in a halo heavenly bright 
 
 About thy temples mine. 
 
 The scars upon thy sacred brow 
 Throw beams of glory round ; 
 
 The splendors of thy bruised face 
 The very sun confound. 
 
 Oh, earlieft Victim sacrificed 
 
 To thy dear Victim Lord ! 
 Oh, earlieft witness to the Faith 
 
 Of thy Incarnate God ! 
 
 Thou to the heavenly Canaan firft 
 Through the Red Sea didft go, 
 
 And to the Martyrs' countless Hoft, 
 Their path of glory fhow. 
 
Saints , Martyrs, £$c. 105 
 
 Erewhile a servant of the poor, — 
 
 Now at the Lamb's high Feaft, 
 In blood-empurpled robe array'd, 
 
 A welcome nuptial gueffc ! 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 O nimis felix meritique celsi. 
 
 O BLESSED Saint, of snow-white purity ! 
 Dweller in waftes forlorn ! 
 O mightieft of the Martyr hoft on high ! 
 Greatefr. of Prophets born ! 
 
 Of all the diadems that on the brows 
 
 Of Saints in glory mine, 
 Not one with brighter, purer halo glows, 
 
 In Heaven's high Court, than thine. 
 
 Oh ! upon us thy tender, pitying gaze 
 
 Cart down from thy dread throne ; 
 Straighten our crooked, smooth our rugged ways, 
 
 And break our hearts of ftone. 
 
 So may the world's Redeemer find us meet 
 
 To offer Him a place, 
 Where He may set his ever-blefTed feet 
 
 Coming with gifts of grace. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
106 Saints , Martyrs, &c. 
 
 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER. 
 
 LO ! on the flope of yonder fhore 
 Beneath that lonely fhed, — 
 A saint hath found his conflicts o'er, 
 And laid his dying head ! 
 
 No gloom of fear hath glazed his eye, 
 For though loud billows roll, — 
 
 The Aurora of Eternity 
 Is rifing on his soul. 
 
 The glorious Saviour of his love 
 
 Receives him in his arms, 
 And bears him, like a ransom'd dove, 
 
 Away from all alarms! 
 
 Champion of Jesus ! — man of God, 
 Servant of Chrifl:, well done! 
 
 Thy path of thorns hath now been trod, 
 Thy red-cross crown is won ! 
 
 O'er the wide wafte of watery waves, 
 And leagues on leagues of land, 
 
 Amid It a wilderness of graves, 
 With death on every hand, — 
 
Saints, Martyrs, &c. 
 
 107 
 
 He flew to woo and win a world ; 
 
 
 That men might kiss the feet 
 Of Him, whose banner he unfurl'd, — 
 Father, — Son, — Paraclete ! 
 
 His tongue, the Spirit's two-edged sword, 
 
 Had magic in its blade, — 
 For while it smote with every word, 
 
 It heal'd the wounds it made ! 
 
 His lips were love, his touch was power, 
 His thoughts were vivid flame, 
 
 The flames of a thunder-mower — 
 Where'er, or when they came ! 
 
 Around him fhone the light of life, 
 
 Before him darkness fell — 
 Satan receded from the ftrife, 
 
 And sought his native hell ! 
 
 Yet, who so humbly walk'd as he, 
 
 A conqueror in the field, 
 Wreathing the rose of victory 
 
 Around his radiant shield ? 
 
 As filvery clouds, at eventide, 
 
 Float on the balmy gale, 
 Nor seem to heed the ftars they hide 
 
 Behind their fleecy veil ; 
 
108 Saints, Martyrs, &c. 
 
 So lowly sense of flighted worth 
 Frefh graces o'er him threw ; 
 
 For he unconscious lived on earth, 
 Of all the praise he drew ! 
 
 Champion of Jesus ! on that breaft 
 From whence thy fervor flow'd, 
 
 Thou haft obtain'd eternal reft, 
 The bosom of thy God ! 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 ST. ELIZABETH, QUEEN OF PORTUGAL. 
 Domare cordis impetus Elizabeth. 
 
 PURE, meek, with soul serene, 
 Sweeter to her it was to serve unseen 
 Her God, than reign a queen. 
 
 Now far above our fight, 
 Enthroned upon the azure ftar-paved height, 
 She reigns in realms of light ; 
 
 So long as time mail flow, 
 Teaching to all who sit on thrones below, 
 The good that power can do. 
 
 Br, 
 
Saints^ Martyrs^ &c 
 
 MARTYRDOM OF ST. LUCY. 
 
 WE watch'd, as she linger'd all the day 
 Beneath the torturer's fkill ; 
 And we pray'd that the spirit might pass away, 
 
 And the weary frame be ftill. 
 'Twas a long fharp ftruggle from darkness to light, 
 
 And the pain was fierce and sore ; 
 But she, we knew, in her lateff. fight 
 Muft be more than conqueror ! 
 
 Oh, what a change had the prison wrought 
 
 Since we gazed upon her laft ! 
 And mournful the leflbns her thin frame taught 
 
 Of the sufferings she had pair. : 
 Of pain and fickness — not of fear ! 
 
 There was courage in her eye : 
 And she enter'd the amphitheatre 
 
 As to triumph, and not to die! 
 
 And once, when we could not bear to see 
 
 Her sufferings, and turn'd the head, 
 " His rod and His ftaff they comfort me," 
 
 The virgin martyr said : 
 It was near the setting of the sun, 
 
 And her voice wax'd faint and low ; 
 And we knew that her race was well-nigh run, 
 
 And her time drew near to go. 
 
HO Saints, Martyrs, &c. 
 
 We could almoft deem the clouds that roll'd 
 
 In the ruddy sun's decline 
 To be chariots of fire and horses of gold 
 
 On the fteep of Mount Aventine : 
 Yea, guardian angels bent their way 
 
 From their own fkies' cloudless blue, 
 And a triumph more glorious was thine to-day 
 
 Than ever the Caesar knew ! 
 
 We lay thee here in the narrow cell 
 
 Where thy friends and brethren fleep ; 
 And we carve the palm, of thy lot to tell, 
 
 And we do not dare to weep. 
 Hopefully wait we God's holy time 
 
 That fhall call us to fhare thy reft ; 
 Till then, we muff, dwell in an alien clime, 
 
 While thou art in Abraham's breaft. 
 
 Neale. 
 
Saints^ Martyrs^ &c. 
 
 THE SISTER OF CHARITY. 
 
 SHE once was a lady of honor and wealth ; 
 Bright glow'd in her features the roses of health ; 
 Her vefture was blended of filk and of gold, 
 And her motion fhook perfume from every fold : 
 Joy revell'd around her — love fhone at her fide, 
 And gay was her smile as the glance of a bride ; 
 And light was her ftep in the mirth-sounding hall, 
 When fhe heard of the daughters of Vincent de Paul. 
 
 She felt in her spirit the summons of grace, 
 That call'd her to live for her suffering race ; 
 And, heedless of pleasure, of comfort, of home, 
 Rose quickly, like Mary, and answer'd " I come." 
 She put from her person the trappings of pride, 
 And paff 'd from her home with the joy of a bride, 
 Nor wept at the threfhold as onward fhe moved — 
 For her heart was on fire in the cause it approved. 
 
 Loft ever to fafhion — to vanity loft, 
 That beauty that once was the song and the toaft — 
 No more in the ball-room that figure we meet, 
 But gliding at dufk to the wretch's retreat. 
 Forgot in the halls is that high-sounding name, 
 For the Sister of Charity blushes at fame : 
 
112 Saints, Martyrs, &c. 
 
 Forgot are the claims of her riches and birth, 
 For Ihe barters for heaven the glory of earth. 
 
 Those feet, that to music could gracefully move, 
 
 Now bear her alone on the miflion of love ; 
 
 Those hands, that once dangled the perfume and gem, 
 
 Are tending the helpless, or lifted for them ; 
 
 That voice, that once echo'd the song of the vain, 
 
 Now whispers relief to the bosom of pain ; 
 
 And the hair that was mining with diamond and pearl, 
 
 Is wet with the tears of the penitent girl. 
 
 Her down-bed, a pallet — her trinkets, a bead, 
 
 Her luftre — one taper, that serves her to read ; 
 
 Her sculpture — the crucifix nail'd by her bed ; 
 
 Her paintings, — one print of the thorn-crowned head ; 
 
 Her cufhion — the pavement that wearies her knees j 
 
 Her mufic — the psalm, or the figh of disease : 
 
 The delicate lady lives mortified there, 
 
 And the feaft is forsaken for fafting and prayer. 
 
 Yet not to the service of heart and of mind, 
 
 Are the cares of that heaven-minded virgin confined : 
 
 Like Him whom she loves, to the manfions of grief 
 
 She haftes with the tidings of joy and relief. 
 
 She ftrengthens the weary — (he comforts the weak, 
 
 And soft is her voice in the ear of the fick ; 
 
 Where want and affliction on mortals attend, 
 
 The Sifter of Charity there is a friend. 
 
Saints^ Martyrs^ &c. 113 
 
 Unfhrinking where peftilence scatters his breath, 
 Like an angel fhe moves, mid the vapors of death ; 
 Where rings the loud mufket, and flames the sword, 
 Unfearing fhe walks, for fhe follows her Lord. 
 How sweetly fhe bends o'er each plague-tainted face, 
 With looks that are lighted with holieft grace ; 
 How kindly fhe dreffes each suffering limb, 
 For fhe sees in the wounded the image of Him. 
 
 Behold her, ye worldly ! behold her, ye vain ! 
 Who fhrink from the pathway of virtue and pain ; 
 Who yield up to pleasure your nights and your days, 
 Forgetful of service, forgetful of praise. 
 Ye lazy philosophers, self-seeking men — 
 Ye firefide philanthropes, great at the pen, 
 How ftands in the balance your eloquence weigh'd 
 With the life and the deeds of that high-born maid ? 
 
 Griffin. 
 
14 Saints, Martyrs, is'c. 
 
 MARTYRDOM OF THE INNOCENTS. 
 
 LOVELY flowers of martyrs, hail! 
 Smitten by the tyrant foe 
 On life's threfhold, — as the gale 
 Strews the roses ere they blow. 
 
 Firft to die for Chrift, sweet lambs ! 
 
 At the very altar ye, 
 With your fatal crowns and palms, 
 
 Sport in your fimplicity. 
 
 Breviary, 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 HOLY and innocent were all his ways ; 
 Sweet, temperate, unftain'd ; 
 His life was prayer, — his every breath was praise, 
 While breath to him remain'd. 
 
 To God, of all the centre and the source, 
 
 Be power and glory given ; 
 Who sways the mighty world through all its course, 
 
 From the bright throne of Heaven. 
 
 B>\ i 
 
Saints , Martyrs, &c. 115 
 
 ST. MARY MAGDALENE. 
 Pater superni lumlnis. 
 
 FATHER of lights ! one glance of Thine, 
 Whose eyes the Universe control, 
 Fills Magdalene with holy love, 
 And melts the ice within her soul. 
 
 Her precious ointment forth me brings, 
 Upon those sacred feet to pour ; 
 
 She wafhes them with burning tears ; 
 And with her hair fhe wipes them o'er. 
 
 Impassioned to the Cross fhe clings ; 
 
 Nor fears befide the tomb to flay ; 
 Of ruffian soldiers naught fhe recks, 
 
 For love has caft all fear away. 
 
 O Chrift, thou very Love itself! 
 
 Bleft hope of man, through Thee forgiven ! 
 So touch our spirits from above, 
 
 And purify our souls for Heaven. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
1 6 Communion Service. 
 
 COMMUNION SERVICE. 
 
 LO ! upon the Altar lies, 
 Hidden deep from human eyes, 
 Bread of Angels from the fkies, 
 
 Made the food of mortal man : 
 Children's meat to dogs denied ; 
 In old types forefignified 
 In the manna Heaven-supplied, 
 Isaac, and the Paschal Lamb. 
 
 Jesus ! Shepherd of the sheep ! 
 Thou thy flock In safety keep. 
 Living Bread ! thy life supply ; 
 Strengthen us, or else we die ; 
 
 Fill us with celeftial grace : 
 Thou who feedeft us below ! 
 Source of all we have or know ! 
 Grant that with thy Saints above, 
 Sitting at the feaft of love, 
 
 We may see Thee face to face. 
 
 Missal 
 
Communion Service. 117 
 
 ASPIRATIONS AFTER COMMUNION. 
 
 PRESERVE, my Jesus, oh preserve 
 My soul to everlafting life. 
 Oh, may this bleft communion serve 
 To aid my soul in paffion's ftrife : 
 Oh, may thy body, may thy blood, 
 Be to my soul a saving food, 
 To fill it ftill with life and grace, 
 And every finful ftain efface ! 
 
 To bless Thee be my sole employ, 
 My God, my Saviour, great and kind ! 
 
 Inflame my heart with holy joy ; 
 
 Teach me, in praifing Thee, to find 
 
 Warm thoughts and feelings warm, whose glow 
 
 My gratitude may aptly fhow. 
 
 But no, my God ! nor word, nor thought, 
 
 Could bless and praise Thee as I ought. 
 
 Weak praise were mine. Do Thou inspire 
 
 My soul with love and living fire. 
 
 Oh, may this cold and lowly breaft 
 
 Be warm'd by Thee, its God, its gueft. 
 
 May it by Thee be moved to love, 
 
 And taught thy saving grace to improve. 
 
 Take, then, my thoughts from all but Thee. 
 To Thee, may ev'ry impulse tend. 
 
Communion Service. 
 
 What 'vails to tell my misery? 
 
 I have my God — my gueft — my friend : 
 So be His praise my only theme ! 
 All wants my Saviour will redeem. 
 My Saviour knows whate'er I need — 
 He gives Himself: and mail I plead 
 For other boons ? No ! let me raise 
 Mine ev'ry thought in love and praise. 
 Dear Lord, no other prayer I form 
 Than for devotion pure and warm. 
 May warm devotion fill my soul ; 
 May love for Thee each thought control ; 
 May piety increase ; and prayer 
 Mine ev'ry thought, word, action (hare ; 
 The gift of love my sole requeft — 
 Thou, God of love ! wilt grant the reft. 
 
 Dear Lord ! may this Communion prove 
 A never-failing bond of love. 
 Forgive my coldness, and supply 
 Mine every weak deficiency. 
 May thy beft grace suffice for all, 
 And every wayward sense enthrall : 
 Such grace on every feeling pour 
 As ne'er may leave thy servant more : 
 Each hope, each impulse firmly bind 
 In grace to Thee, my Saviour kind : 
 Such saving grace, dear Lord, be given 
 As leads the happy soul to heaven. 
 
 J. R. Beste. 
 
Dedication of a Church. 119 
 
 DEDICATION OF A CHURCH. 
 
 Alto ex Olympi njertlce. 
 
 FROM higheft Heaven, the Father's J 
 Descending like that myftic ftone 
 Cut from a mountain without hands, 
 Came down below, and filled all lands ; 
 Uniting, midway in the Iky, 
 His House on earth, and House on high. 
 
 That House on high, — it ever rings 
 With praises of the King of kings ; 
 For ever there, on harps divine, 
 They hymn th' eternal One and Trine ; 
 We, here below, the ftrain prolong, 
 And faintly echo Sion's song. 
 
 O Lord of lords invifible !. 
 With thy pure light this temple fill : 
 Hither, oft as invoked, descend ; 
 Here to thy people's prayer attend : 
 Here, through all hearts, for evermore, 
 The Spirit's quick'ning graces pour. 
 
Dedication of a Church. 
 
 Here may the Faithful, day by day, 
 In kneeling adoration pray ; 
 And here receive from thy dear love 
 The bleflings of that home above ; 
 Till, loosen'd from this mortal chain, 
 Its everlafting joys they gain. 
 
 Breviary. 
 
 Calestis urbs Jerusalem. 
 
 JERUSALEM, thou City bleft ! 
 Dear vifion of celeftial reft ! 
 Which far above the ftarry iky, 
 Piled up with living ftones on high, 
 Art, as a Bride, encircled bright, 
 With million angel forms of light : 
 
 Oh, wedded in a prosperous hour ! 
 The Father's glory was thy dower ; 
 The Spirit all His graces fhed, 
 Thou peerless Queen, upon thy head ; 
 When Chrift espoused thee for his Bride, 
 O City bright and glorified ! 
 
 Thy gates a pearly luftre pour ; 
 Thy gates are open evermore ; 
 
Dedication of a Church. 
 
 And thither evermore draw nigh 
 All who for Chrift have dared to die ; 
 Or smit with love of their dear Lord, 
 Have pains endured, and joys abhorr'd. 
 
 Thou too, O Church, which here we see! 
 No easy tafk hath builded thee. 
 Long did the chisels ring around ! 
 Long did the mallets' blows rebound! 
 Long work'd the head and toil'd the hand ! 
 Ere flood thy (tones as now they ftand ! 
 
 Breviary. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 THE ASCENSION. 
 
 WHY is thy face so lit with smiles, 
 Mother of Jesus ! why ? 
 And wherefore is thy beaming look 
 So fixed upon the fky ? 
 
 From out thine overflowing eyes 
 
 Bright lights of gladness part, 
 As though some gufhing fount of joy 
 
 Had broken in thy heart. 
 
 Mother ! how canft thou smile to-day ? 
 
 How can thine eyes be bright, 
 When He, thy Life, thy Love, thine All, 
 
 Hath vanifh'd from thy fight ? 
 
 His rifing form on Olivet 
 
 A summer's fhadow caft ; 
 The branches of the hoary trees 
 
 Droop'd as the fhadow pafT'd. 
 
Miscellaneous. 123 
 
 And as He rose with all his train 
 
 Of righteous souls around, 
 His blefling fell into thine heart, 
 
 Like dew into the ground. 
 
 Down ftoop'd a filver cloud from heaven, 
 
 The Eternal Spirit's car, 
 And on the leflening vifion went, 
 
 Like some receding ftar. 
 
 The silver cloud hath sail'd away, 
 
 The ikies are blue and free ; 
 The road that vifion took is now 
 
 Sunihine and vacancy. 
 
 The Feet which thou haft kifT'd so oft, 
 Those living Feet, are gone ; 
 
 Mother! thou canft but ftoop and kiss 
 Their print upon the ftone. 
 
 Yes ! He hath left thee, Mother dear ! 
 
 His throne is far above ; 
 How canft thou be so full of joy 
 
 When thou haft loft thy Love ? 
 
 O surely earth's poor sunfhine now 
 To thee mere gloom appears, 
 
 When He is gone who was its light 
 For Three-and-Thirty Years. 
 
1 24 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Why do not thy sweet hands detain 
 
 His Feet upon their way ? 
 O why doth not the Mother speak 
 
 And bid her Son to flay ? 
 
 Ah no ! thy love is rightful love, 
 
 From all self-seeking free ; 
 The change that is such gain to Him 
 
 Can be no loss to thee ! 
 
 'Tis sweet to feel our Saviour's love, 
 
 To feel his presence near ; 
 Yet loyal love his glory holds 
 
 A thousand times more dear. 
 
 Who would have known the way to love 
 
 Our Jesus as we ought, 
 If thou in varied joy and woe 
 
 Hadfl: not that lefTon taught? 
 
 Ah ! never is our love so pure 
 
 As when refined by pain, 
 Or when God's glory upon earth 
 
 Finds in our loss its gain ! 
 
 True love is worfhip : Mother dear ! 
 
 O gain for us the light 
 To love, because the creature's love 
 
 Is the Creator's right ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 125 
 
 HYMN TO MY GUARDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 (For Children.) 
 
 DEAR Angel ! ever at my fide, 
 How loving muft thou be 
 To leave thy home in Heaven to guard 
 A little child like me. 
 
 Thy beautiful and mining face 
 
 I see not, though so near ; 
 The sweetness of thy soft low voice 
 
 I am too deaf to hear. 
 
 I cannot feel thee touch my hand 
 With preffure light and mild, 
 
 To check me, as my mother did 
 When I was but a child. 
 
 But I have felt thee in my thoughts 
 
 Fighting with fin for me ; 
 And when my heart loves God, I know 
 
 The sweetness is from thee. 
 
 And when, dear Spirit! I kneel down 
 Morning and night to prayer, 
 
 Something there is within my heart 
 Which tells me thou art there. 
 
[26 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Yes ! when I pray thou prayeft too — 
 
 Thy prayer is all for me ; 
 
 But when I sleep, thou sleepeft not, 
 
 But watcheft patiently. 
 
 Ah me ! how lovely they muft be 
 
 Whom God has glorified ; 
 Yet one of them, O sweeteft thought! 
 
 Is ever at my fide. 
 
 And thou in life's laft hour wilt bring 
 
 A frefh supply of grace, 
 And afterwards wilt let me kiss 
 
 Thy beautiful bright face. 
 
 Then for thy sake, dear Angel ! now 
 
 More humble will I be : 
 But I am weak, and when I fall, 
 
 O weary not for me : 
 
 Then love me, love me, Angel dear ! 
 
 And I will love thee more ; 
 And help me when my soul is caft 
 
 Upon the eternal fhore. 
 
 Faber. 
 
Miscellaneous. 127 
 
 HYMN OF THE CALABRIAN SHEPHERDS. 
 
 DARKER and darker fall around 
 The fhadows from the pine ; 
 It is the hour with hymn and prayer 
 To gather round thy fhrine. 
 
 Hear us, sweet Mother ! thou haft known 
 
 Our earthly hopes and fears, 
 The bitterness of mortal toil 
 
 The tenderness of tears. 
 
 We pray thee firft for absent ones, 
 Those who knelt with us here — 
 
 The father, brother, and the son, 
 The diftant and the dear. 
 
 We pray thee for the little bark 
 
 Upon the ftormy sea; 
 Affection's anxiousness of love, 
 
 Is it not known to thee ? 
 
 The soldier, he who only sleeps 
 
 His head upon his brand, 
 Who only in a dream can see 
 
 His own beloved land. 
 
28 Miscellaneous. 
 
 The wandering Minftrel, he who gave 
 Thy hymns his earlieft tone, 
 
 Who strives to teach a foreign tongue 
 The mufic of his own. 
 
 Kind Mother, let them see again 
 
 Their own Italian fhore ; 
 Back to the home, which wanting them, 
 
 Seems like a home no more. 
 
 Madonna, keep the cold north wind 
 
 Amid his native seas, 
 So that no withering blight come down 
 
 Upon our olive trees. 
 
 And bid the sunfhine glad our hills, 
 
 The dew rejoice our vines, 
 And bid the healthful sea-breeze sweep 
 
 In mufic through the pines. 
 
 Pray for us that our hearts and homes 
 
 Be kept in fear and love ; 
 Love for all things around our path, 
 
 And fear for those above. 
 
 Thy soft blue eyes are fill'd with tears, 
 
 Oh ! let them wafh away 
 The soil of our unworthiness : — 
 
 Pray for us. Mother, pray! 
 
Miscella neous. 129 
 
 We know how vain the fleeting flowers 
 
 Around thine altar hung ; 
 We know how humble is the hymn 
 
 Before thine image sung. 
 
 But wilt thou not accept the wreath, 
 
 And sanctify the lay ; 
 We truft to thee our hopes and fears, — 
 
 Pray for us, Mother, pray ! 
 
 Stabat Mater dolorosa. 
 
 AT the Cross her ftation keeping, 
 Stood the mournful Mother weeping, 
 Close to Jesus to the laft : 
 Through her heart, his sorrow fharing, 
 All his bitter anguifh bearing, 
 
 Now at length the sword had pafT'd. 
 
 Oh, how sad and sore diftrefT'd 
 Was that Mother highly bleft 
 
 Of the sole-begotten One! 
 Chrift above in torment hangs ; 
 She beneath beholds the pangs 
 
 Of her dying glorious Son. 
 
1 30 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Is there one who would not weep, 
 Whelm'd in miseries so deep 
 
 Chrift's dear Mother to behold? 
 Can the human heart refrain 
 From partaking in her pain, 
 
 In that Mother's pain untold ? 
 
 Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled, 
 She beheld her tender Child 
 
 All with bloody scourges rent j 
 For the fins of his own nation, 
 Saw Him hang in desolation, 
 
 Till his Spirit forth He sent. 
 
 O thou Mother ! fount of love ! 
 Touch my spirit from above. 
 
 Make my heart with thine accord : 
 Make me feel as thou haft felt ; 
 Make my soul to glow and melt 
 
 With the love of Chrift my Lord. 
 
 Breviary, 
 
 (&%& 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 J 3' 
 
 PORTUGUESE HYMN. 
 
 STAR of the wide and pathless sea, 
 Who loveft on manners to mine, 
 These votive garments wet, to thee 
 We hang, within thy holy fhrine. 
 When o'er us flafh'd the surging brine, 
 Amid the warring waters toff'd, 
 
 From earthly aid we turn'd to thine, 
 And hoped, when other hope was loft. 
 Ave Maris Stella! 
 
 Star of the vaft and howling main, 
 
 When dark and lone is all the fky, 
 And mountain waves o'er ocean's plain, 
 
 ErecT: their ftormy heads on high ; 
 
 When matrons by the hearthftone figh, 
 They raise their weeping eyes to thee ; 
 
 The ftar of ocean heeds their cry, 
 And saves the foundering bark at sea. 
 Ave Maris Stella! 
 
 Star of the dark and ftormy sea, 
 
 When, wreaking tempefts round us rave 
 
 Thy gentle virgin form we see, 
 Bright rifing o'er the hoary wave. 
 
32 Miscellaneous. 
 
 The howling ftorms that seem to crave 
 Their victims, fink in mufic sweet ; 
 
 The surging seas recede, to pave 
 The path beneath thy gliftening feet. 
 Ave Maris Stella! 
 
 Star of the desert waters wild, 
 
 Who, pitying, hear'ft the seaman's cry, 
 
 The Lord of Mercy, as a child, 
 
 On that chafte bosom loved to lie j 
 While soft the chorus of the iky 
 
 Their hymns of tender mercy fing, 
 And angel voices named on high 
 
 The Mother of the Heavenly King. 
 Ave Maris Stella! 
 
 Star of the deep ! at that blefr. name 
 
 The waves fleep filent round the keel, 
 The tempefts wild their fury tame, 
 
 That made the deep foundations reel ; 
 
 The soft celeftial accents fteal 
 So soothing through the realms of woe, 
 
 That suffering souls a respite feel 
 From torture in the depths below. 
 Ave Maris Stella! 
 
 Star of the mild and placid seas, 
 
 Whom rainbow rays of mercy crown, 
 
 Whose name thy faithful Portuguese, 
 O'er all that to the depths go down, 
 
Miscellaneous. 1 33 
 
 With hymns of grateful transport own ; 
 When gathering clouds obscure their light, 
 
 And heaven afTumes an awful frown, 
 The ftar of ocean glitters bright. 
 Ave Maris Stella ! 
 
 Star of the deep ! when angel lyres 
 
 To hymn thy holy name efTay, 
 In vain a mortal harp aspires 
 
 To mingle in the mighty lay ! 
 
 Mother of Chrift ! one living ray 
 Of hope our grateful bosoms fires, 
 
 When ftorms and tempefts pass away, 
 To join the bright immortal choirs. 
 Ave Maris Stella ! 
 
 THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST. 
 
 NO track is on the sunny iky, 
 No footprints on the air ; 
 Jesus hath gone ; the face of earth 
 Is desolate and bare. 
 
 The blefled feet of Mary's Son, 
 They tread the ftreets no more ; 
 
 His soul-converting voice gives not 
 Its mufic as before. 
 
34 Miscellaneous. 
 
 His Mother fits all worfhipful 
 
 With her majeftic mien ; 
 The princes of the infant Church 
 
 Are gather'd round their Queen. 
 
 They gaze on her with raptured eyes, 
 
 Her features are like his, 
 Her presence is their ample ftrength, 
 
 Her face refle&s their bliss. 
 
 That Upper Room is heaven on earth ; 
 
 Within its precincts lie 
 All that earth has of faith, or hope, 
 
 Or heaven-born charity. 
 
 The Eye of God looks down on them. 
 
 His love is centred there ; 
 His Spirit yearns to be o'ercome 
 
 By their sweet ftrife of prayer. 
 
 The Mother prays her mighty prayer, 
 
 In accents meek and faint, 
 And higheft heaven is quick to own 
 
 The beautiful conftraint. 
 
 The Eternal Son takes up the prayer 
 
 Upon his royal throne ; 
 The Son his human Mother hears, 
 
 The Sire his holy Son. 
 
 Faber. 
 
Miscellaneous. 135 
 
 THOU ART OF ALL CREATED THINGS. 
 
 Ti 
 
 O Lord, the effence and the cause — 
 The source and centre of all bliss ; 
 What are those veils of woven light, 
 Where sun and moon and ftars unite — 
 The purple morn, the spangled night — 
 But curtains which thy mercy draws 
 Between the heavenly world and this ? 
 The terrors of the sea and land — 
 When all the elements conspire, 
 The earth and water, ftorm and fire — 
 Are but the fketches of thy hand ; 
 Do they not all in countless ways — 
 The lightning's flafh — the howling ftorm — 
 The dread volcano's awful blaze — 
 Proclaim thy glory and thy praise ? 
 Beneath the sunny summer fhowers 
 Thy love afTumes a milder form, 
 And writes its angel name in flowers ; 
 The wind that flies with winged feet 
 Around the grafly gladden'd earth, 
 Seems but commiflion'd to repeat 
 In echo's accents — filvery sweet — 
 
36 
 
 Miscellaneous. 
 
 That Thou, O Lord, didft give it birth. 
 There is a tongue in every flame — 
 There is a tongue in every wave — 
 To these the bounteous Godhead gave 
 These organs but to praise his name ! 
 
LYRA GERMANICA. 
 
Lyra Germanica. 139 
 
 LYRA GERMANICA. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us therefore cast off 
 the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. 
 
 From the Epistle. 
 
 O WATCHMAN will the night of fin 
 Be never part ? 
 O watchman, doth the day begin 
 To dawn upon thy ftraining fight at laft ? 
 
 Will it dispel 
 Ere long the mifts of sense wherein I dwell? 
 
 Now all the earth is bright and glad 
 
 With the frefh morn ; 
 But all my heart is cold, and dark, and sad ; 
 Sun of the soul, let me behold thy dawn ! 
 
 Come Jesus, Lord ! 
 Oh, quickly come, according to thy word ! 
 
140 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 
 Do we not live in those bleft days 
 
 
 So long foretold, 
 
 
 When Thou fhouldft come to bring us light and 
 
 grace ? 
 
 And yet I fit in darkness as of old, 
 
 
 Pining to see 
 
 
 Thy glory ; but Thou ftill art far from me. 
 
 
 Long fince Thou cam'ft to be the light 
 
 
 Of all men here ; 
 
 
 And yet in me is nought but blacked night. 
 
 
 Wilt Thou not then to me, thine own, appear ? 
 
 
 Shine forth and bless 
 
 
 My soul with vifion of thy righteousness ! 
 
 
 If thus in darkness ever left, 
 
 
 Can I fulfil 
 
 
 The works of light, while of all light bereft ? 
 
 
 How fhall I learn in love and meekness ftill 
 
 
 To follow Thee, 
 
 
 And all the finful works of darkness flee ? 
 
 
 The light of reason cannot give 
 
 
 Life to my soul ; 
 
 
 Jesus alone can make me truly live, 
 
 
 One glance of his can make my spirit whole. 
 
 
 Arise, and fhine 
 
 
 On this poor longing, waiting heart of mine ! 
 
 
 Single and clear, not weak or blind, 
 
 
 The eye mull be, 
 
 
Lyra Germanica. 141 
 
 To which thy glory fhall an entrance find ; 
 For if thy chosen ones would gaze on Thee, 
 
 No earthly screen 
 Between their souls and Thee muft intervene. 
 
 Jesus, do Thou mine eyes unseal, 
 
 And let them grow 
 Quick to discern whate'er Thou dofl reveal, 
 So fhall I be deliver'd from that woe, 
 
 Blindly to ftray 
 Through hopeless night, while all around is day. 
 
 Richter, 1704. 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say unto you, 
 Rejoice . . . The Lord is at hand. 
 
 From the Epistle. 
 
 LIFT up your heads, ye mighty gates, 
 Behold the King of glory waits, 
 The King of kings is drawing near, 
 The Saviour of the world is here ; 
 Life and salvation doth He bring, 
 Wherefore rejoice, and gladly fing 
 Praise, O my God, to Thee ! 
 Creator, wise is thy decree ! 
 
142 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 The Lord is juft, a helper tried, 
 
 Mercy is ever at his fide, 
 
 His Kingly crown is holiness, 
 
 His sceptre, pity in diftress, 
 The end of all our woe He brings ; 
 Wherefore the earth is glad and fings 
 
 Praise, O my God, to Thee ! 
 
 O Saviour, great thy deeds mail be ! 
 
 O bleft the land, the city bleft, 
 
 Where Chrift the Ruler is confeft ! 
 O happy hearts, and happy homes, 
 To whom this King in triumph comes ! 
 The cloudless Sun of joy He is, 
 Who bringeth pure delight and bliss j 
 Praise, O my God, to thee ! 
 Comforter, for thy comfort free ! 
 
 Fling wide the portals of your heart, 
 Make it a temple, set apart 
 From earthly use for Heaven's employ, 
 Adorn'd with prayer, and love, and joy ; 
 
 So fhall your Sovereign enter in, 
 
 And new and nobler life begin. 
 Praise, O my God, be thine, 
 For word, and deed, and grace divine. 
 
 Redeemer, come! I open wide 
 
 My heart to Thee ; here, Lord, abide ! 
 Let me thy inner presence feel, 
 
Lyra Germanica. 143 
 
 Thy grace and love in me reveal, 
 
 Thy Holy Spirit guide us on 
 
 Until our glorious goal be won ! 
 Eternal praise and fame, 
 Be offer'd, Saviour, to thy name ! 
 
 WeisKel. 1635. 
 
 ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 
 
 I have seen, I have seen the afflictions of my people. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 FEAR not, O little flock, the foe 
 Who madly seek your overthrow, 
 Dread not his rage and power. 
 What though your courage sometimes faints, 
 His seeming triumph o'er God's saints 
 Lafts but a little hour. 
 
 Be of good cheer ; your cause belongs 
 To Him who can avenge your wrongs 
 
 Leave it to Him, our Lord. 
 Though hidden yet from all our eyes, 
 He sees the Gideon who fhall rise 
 
 To save us, and his word. 
 
[44 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 As true as God's own word is true, 
 Not earth or hell with all their crew 
 
 Againft us fhall prevail. 
 A jeft and byword are they grown j 
 God is with us, we are his own, 
 
 Our victory cannot fail. 
 
 Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer : 
 Great Captain, now thine arm make bare ; 
 
 Fight for us once again ! 
 So fhall the saints and martyrs raise 
 A mighty chorus to thy praise, 
 
 World without end. Amen. 
 
 Altenburg. 
 
 Gujiavus Jdolphus's Battle-Song. 1 63 1. 
 
Lyra Germanlca. 145 
 
 INNOCENTS' DAY. 
 
 Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall 
 not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Matt. 18 : 3. 
 
 DEAR Soul, couldfr. thou become a child 
 While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
 Then God himself were ever near, 
 And Paradise around thee here. 
 
 A child cares nought for gold or treasure, 
 Nor fame nor glory yield him pleasure ; 
 In perfect truft, he asketh not 
 If rich or poor mail be his lot. 
 
 Little he recks of dignity 
 Nor prince nor monarch feareth he ; 
 Strange that a child so weak and small 
 Is oft the boldeft of us all ! 
 
 He hath not fkill to utter lies, 
 His very soul is in his eyes ; 
 Single his aim in all, and true, 
 And apt to praise what others do. 
 
 No quesftions dark his spirit vex, 
 No faithless doubts his soul perplex, 
 Simply from day to day he lives, 
 Content with what the present gives. 
 J 
 
146 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Scarce can he fraud alone, far less 
 Would roam abroad in loneliness ; 
 Faft clingino- to his mother ftill 
 She bears and leads him at her will. 
 
 He will not ftay to pause and choose, 
 His father's guidance e'er refuse, 
 Thinks not of danger, fears no harm, 
 Wrapt in obedience' holy calm. 
 
 For ftrange concerns he careth nought ; 
 What others do, although were wrought 
 Before his eyes the worfr, offence, 
 Stains not his tranquil innocence. 
 
 His deareft work, his befl: delight, 
 Is, lying in his mother's fight, 
 To gaze forever on her face, 
 And neftie in her fond embrace. 
 
 O childhood's innocence! The voice 
 Of thy deep wisdom is my choice ! 
 Who hath thy love is truly wise 
 And precious in our Father's eyes. 
 
 Spirit of childhood ! loved of God, 
 By Jesus' spirit now beftowed ; 
 How often have I long'd for thee ; 
 O Jesus, form thyself in me ! 
 
Lyra Germanlca. 147 
 
 And help me to become a child 
 While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
 That I may find God always near, 
 And Paradise around me here. 
 
 Gerhardt Terjleegen . 1 73 r. 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 
 
 Hymn for Neiv Year's Day. 
 
 So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts 
 unto wisdom. Psalm 90: 12. 
 
 ETERNITY ! Eternity ! 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 And yet to thee Time haftes away, 
 Like as the war-horse to the fray, 
 Or swift as couriers homeward go, 
 Or fhip to port, or fhaft from bow. 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 For even as on a perfect sphere 
 End nor beginning can appear, 
 
148 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Even so, Eternity, in thee 
 Entrance nor exit can there be. 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 A circle infinite art thou, 
 
 Thy centre an Eternal Now, 
 
 Never, we name thy outward bound, 
 
 For never end therein is found. 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 A little bird with fretting beak 
 
 Might wear to nought the loftieft peak, 
 
 Though but each thousand years it came, 
 
 Yet thou wert then, as now, the same. 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 As long as God is God, so long 
 
 Endure the pains of hell and wrong, 
 
 So long the joys of heaven remain ; 
 
 Oh lading joy, Oh Lifting pain ! 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 
Lyra Germanica. 149 
 
 They who lived poor and naked, reft 
 With God for ever rich and bleft, 
 And love and praise the higheft good, 
 In perfect bliss and gladsome mood. 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 
 Who ponders oft on thee is wise, 
 
 All fleshly lufts fhall he despise, 
 
 The world finds place with him no more; 
 
 The love of vain delights is o'er. 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 
 Who marks thee well would say to God, 
 
 Here, judge, burn, smite me with thy rod, 
 
 Here, let me all thy juftice bear, 
 
 When time of grace is paft, then spare ! 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 
 Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee, 
 
 O man, that oft thou think on me, 
 
 The sinner's punifhment and pain, 
 
 To them who love their God, rich gain ! 
 
 Ponder, O man, Eternity ! 
 
 Wulffer. 1648. 
 
150 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon the earth be- 
 neath ; for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth 
 shall wax old like a garment, and the people that dwell therein shall 
 die in like manner ; but my salvation shall be for ever, and my 
 righteousness shall not be abolished. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 GOD liveth ever! 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! 
 Our God is good, in every place 
 
 His love is known, his help is found, 
 His mighty arm, and tender grace 
 
 Bring good from ills that hem us round. 
 Eafier than we think can He 
 Turn to joy our agony. 
 Soul, remember 'mid thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! 
 Say, fhall He flumber, (hall He fleep, 
 
 Who gave the eye its power to see ? 
 Shall He not hear his children weep 
 
 Who made the ear so wondroufly ? 
 God is God ; He sees and hears 
 All their troubles, all their tears. 
 
Lyra Gerrnanlca. 151 
 
 Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never ! 
 He who can earth and heaven control, 
 
 Who spreads the clouds o'er sea and land, 
 Whose presence fills the mighty Whole 
 In each true heart is close at hand. 
 
 Love Him, He will surely send 
 
 Help and joy that never end. 
 
 Soul, remember in thy pains, 
 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never . 
 Scarce canft thou bear thy cross? Then fly 
 
 To Him where only reft is sweet ; 
 Thy God is great, his mercy nigh 
 
 His ftrength upholds the tottering feet. 
 
 Truft Him, for his grace is sure, 
 
 Ever doth his truth endure ; 
 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 
 O my Soul, despair thou never ! 
 When fins and follies long forgot 
 
 Upon thy tortured conscience prey, 
 O come to God, and fear Him not, 
 
152 Lyra Germanlca. 
 
 His love mall sweep them all away. 
 Pains of hell at look of his, 
 Change to calm content and bliss. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pain, 
 God o'er all doth ever reign. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! 
 Those whom the thoughtless world forsakes, 
 
 Who ftand bewilder'd with their woe, 
 God gently to his bosom takes, 
 
 And bids them all his fulness know. 
 In thy sorrows' swelling flood 
 Own his hand who seeks thy good. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! 
 Let earth and heaven outworn with age, 
 
 Sink to the chaos whence they came ; 
 Let angry foes againft us rage, 
 
 Let hell moot forth his flercefl: flame ; 
 Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrufts, 
 God defends who in Him trufts ; 
 Soul, remember in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, despair thou, never ! 
 
Lyra Germanica. 153 
 
 What though thou tread with bleeding feet 
 
 A thorny path of grief and gloom, 
 Thy God will choose the way moft meet 
 
 To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home. 
 For this life's long night of sadness 
 He w ( ill give thee peace and gladness. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 Zibn. 1682. 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven ; and 
 returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring 
 forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to 
 the eater : so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : 
 it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which 
 I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 THY Word, O Lord, like gentle dews, 
 Falls soft on hearts that pine ; 
 Lord, to thy garden ne'er refuse 
 This heavenly balm of thine. 
 Water'd from Thee 
 Let every tree 
 Bud forth and blofTom to thy praise, 
 And bear much fruit in after days. 
 
154 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Thy Word is like a flaming sword, 
 
 A wedge that cleaveth ftone ; 
 Keen as a fire so burns thy Word 
 And pierceth flefh and bone. 
 Let it go forth 
 O'er ail the earth 
 To purify all hearts within 
 And fhattcr all the might of sin. 
 
 Thy Word a wondrous guiding ftar, 
 
 On pilgrim hearts doth rise, 
 
 Leads to their Lord who dwell afar, 
 
 And makes the fimple wise. 
 
 Let not its light 
 
 E'er fink in night, 
 
 But ftill in every spirit mine, 
 
 That none may miss thy light divine. 
 
Lyra Germanica. J 55 
 
 QyiNQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight, thy faith hath 
 saved thee : and immediately he received his sight, and followed 
 him, glorifying God. From the Gospel. 
 
 MY Saviour, what Thou didft of old 
 When Thou waft dwelling here, 
 Thou doeft yet for them, who, bold 
 
 In faith, to Thee draw near. 
 As Thou hadft pity on the blind, 
 
 According to thy Word, 
 Thou sufferedft me thy grace to find, 
 Thy Light haft on me pour'd. 
 
 Mourning I sat befide the way, 
 
 In fightless gloom apart, 
 And sadness heavy on me lay, 
 
 And longing gnaw'd my heart ; 
 I heard the mufic of the psalms 
 
 Thy people sang to Thee, 
 I felt the waving of their palms, 
 
 And yet I could not see. 
 
 My pain grew more than I could bear, 
 
 Too keen my grief became, 
 Then I took heart in my despair 
 
 To call upon thy name ; 
 "O Son of David, save and heal, 
 
 As Thou so oft haft done ! 
 
56 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 deareft Jesus, let me feel 
 
 My load of darkness gone." 
 
 And ever weeping as I spoke 
 
 With bitter prayers and fighs, 
 My ftony heart grew soft and broke, 
 
 More earned yet my cries. 
 A sudden answer ftill'd my fear, 
 
 For it was said to me, 
 " O poor blind man, be of good cheer, 
 
 Rejoice, He calleth thee." 
 
 1 felt, Lord, that Thou ftoodeft ftill, 
 
 Groping thy feet I sought, 
 From off me fell my old self-will, 
 
 A change came o'er my thought. 
 Thou saidft, " What is it Thou wouldft have ? " 
 
 " Lord, that I might have fight ; 
 To see thy countenance I crave : " 
 
 " So be it, have thou Light." 
 
 And words of thine can never fail, 
 
 My fears are paft and o'er ; 
 My soul is glad with light, the veil 
 
 Is on my heart no more. 
 Thou blefleft me, and forth I fare 
 
 Free from my old disgrace, 
 And follow on with joy where'er 
 
 Thy footfteps, Lord, I trace. 
 
 De La Mottc Fouque. 
 
Lyra Germanica. 157 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 And the disciples said, Send her away, for she crieth after us ; 
 .... But he said, Great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as 
 thou wilt. From the Gospel. 
 
 I WILL not let Thee go ; Thou Help in time of 
 need ! 
 Heap ill on ill 
 I truft Thee ftill, 
 E'en when it seems as Thou wouldft flay indeed ! 
 Do as Thou wilt with me, 
 I yet will cling to Thee, 
 Hide Thou thy face, yet, Help in time of need, 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 I will not let Thee go ; mould I forsake my bliss ? 
 
 No, Lord, thou'rt mine, 
 
 And I am thine, 
 Thee will I hold when all things else I miss. 
 
 Though dark and sad the night, 
 
 Joy cometh with thy light, 
 
 Thou my Sun ; fhould I forsake my bliss ? 
 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! 
 
 Not Death can tear 
 Me from his care, 
 Who for my sake his soul in death outpour'd. 
 
5^ Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Thou diedft for love to me, 
 I say in love to Thee, 
 E'en when my heart fhall break, my God, my Life, my 
 Lord, 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 Deszler. 1692. 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 And ye now therefore have sorrow ; but I will see you again, 
 and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from 
 you. From the Gospel. 
 
 COMETH sunfhine after rain, 
 After mourning joy again, 
 After heavy bitter grief 
 Dawneth surely sweet relief; 
 
 And my soul, who from her height 
 Sank to realms of woe and night, 
 Wingeth now to heaven her flight. 
 
 He, whom this world dares not face, 
 Hath refrem'd me with his grace, 
 And his mighty hand unbound 
 Chains of hell about me wound ; 
 
Lyra Germanica. 159 
 
 Quicker, ftronger, leaps my blood, 
 Since his mercy, like a flood, 
 Pour'd o'er all my heart for good. 
 
 Eitter anguifh have I borne 
 Keen regret my heart hath torn, 
 Sorrow dimm'd my weeping eyes, 
 Satan blinded me with lies ; 
 
 Yet at laft am I set free, 
 
 Help, protection, love, to me 
 
 Once more true companions be. 
 
 Ne'er was left a helpless prey, 
 Ne'er with fhame was turn'd away, 
 He who gave himself to God, 
 And on Him had caft a load. 
 
 Who in God his hope hath placed 
 
 Shall not life in pain outwafte, 
 
 Fulleft joy he yet fhall tafte. 
 
 Though to-day may not fulfil 
 All thy hopes, have patience still ; 
 For perchance to-morrow's sun 
 Sees thy happier days begun. 
 
 As God willeth march the hours, 
 
 Bringing joy at laft in fhowers, 
 
 And whate'er we afked is ours. 
 
 When my heart was vex'd with care, 
 Fill'd with fears, well-nigh despair ; 
 
;6o Lyra G 
 
 er manic a. 
 
 When with watching many a night 
 
 On me fell pale fickness' blight ; 
 
 When my courage fail'd me faft, 
 Cameft Thou, my God, at laft, 
 And my woes were quickly part. 
 
 Now as long as here I roam, 
 On this earth have house and home, 
 Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee 
 Shine through all my memory. 
 
 To my God I yet will cling, 
 
 All my life the praises fing 
 
 That from thankful hearts outspring. 
 
 Every sorrow, every smart, 
 
 That the Eternal Father's heart 
 
 Hath appointed me of yore, 
 
 Or hath yet for me in (lore, 
 
 As my life flows on I'll take 
 
 Calmly, gladly for his sake, 
 
 No more faithless murmurs make. 
 
 I will meet diftress and pain, 
 
 I will greet e'en death's dark reign, 
 
 I will lay me in the grave, 
 
 With a heart ftill glad and brave. 
 
 Whom the Strongeft doth defend, 
 Whom the Higheft counts his friend, 
 Cannot perifh in the end. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 
 
Lyra Germanlca. 161 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go not away, the 
 Comforter will not come unto you. 
 
 From the Gospel. 
 
 OHOLY Ghoft ! Thou fire Divine ! 
 From highelt heaven on us down mine ; 
 Comforter, be thy comfort mine ! 
 
 Come, Father of the poor, to earth ; 
 Come with thy gifts of precious worth ; 
 Come, Light of all of mortal birth ! 
 
 Thou rich in comfort ! Ever bleft 
 
 The heart where Thou art conftant gueft, 
 
 Who giv'ft the heavy-laden reft. 
 
 Come, Thou in whom our toil is sweet, 
 Our fhadow in the noon-day heat, 
 Before whom mourning flieth fleet. 
 
 Bright Sun of Grace ! Thy sunfhine dart 
 On all who cry to Thee apart, 
 And fill with gladness every heart. 
 K 
 
1 62 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Whate'er without thy aid is wrought, 
 Or fkilful deed or wiseft thought, 
 God counts it vain and merely nought. 
 
 O cleanse us that we fin no more, 
 O'er parched souls thy waters pour ; 
 Heal the sad heart that acheth sore. 
 
 Thy will be ours in all our ways ; 
 O melt the frozen with thy rays ; 
 Call home the loft in error's maze. 
 
 And grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee, 
 And hold the faith in unity, 
 Thy precious gifts of charity ; 
 
 That we may live in holiness, 
 And find in death our happiness, 
 And dwell with Thee in lafting bliss. 
 
 King Robert of France about A. D. 
 
Lyra Germanica. 163 
 
 TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 And God said, Let us make man in our image. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 MOST High and Holy Trinity ! 
 Who of thy mercy mild 
 Haft form'd me here in time, to be 
 
 Thy image and thy child : 
 Oh let me love Thee day and night 
 With all my soul, with all my might ; 
 Oh come, thyself my soul prepare, 
 And make thy dwelling ever there ! 
 
 Father! replenifh with thy grace 
 
 This longing heart of mine, 
 Make it thy quiet dwelling-place, 
 
 Thy sacred inmoft fhrine ! 
 Forgive that oft my spirit wears 
 Her time and ftrength in trivial cares, 
 Enfold her in thy changeless peace, 
 So fhe from all but Thee may cease ! 
 
 O God the Son ! thy wisdom's light 
 
 On my dark reason pour ; 
 Forgive that things of sense and fight, 
 
 Were all her joy of yore ; 
 
(>4- Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Henceforth let every thought and deed 
 On Thee be fix'd, from Thee proceed, 
 Draw me to Thee, for I would rise 
 Above these earthly vanities ! 
 
 O, Holy Ghoft! Thou fire of love, 
 Enkindle with thy flame my will ; 
 
 Come, with thy ftrength, Lord, from above, 
 Help me thy bidding to fulfil : 
 
 Forgive that I so oft have done . 
 
 What I as finful ought to fhun ; 
 
 Let me with pure and quenchless fire 
 
 Thy favor and thyself defire ! 
 
 Moft High and Holy Trinity! 
 
 Draw me away far hence, 
 And fix upon eternity 
 
 All powers of soul and sense! 
 Make me at one within ; at one 
 With Thee on earth ; when life is done 
 Take me to dwell in light with Thee, 
 Moft High and Holy Trinity! 
 
 Angclm. 1657. 
 
 ^Xi 
 
Lyra Germanlca. 165 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Cast all your care upon Him, for He careth for you. 
 
 From the Epistle. 
 
 GOD ! Thou art my Rock of ftrength, 
 And my home is in thine arms, 
 Thou wilt send me help at length, 
 
 And I feel no wild alarms. 
 Sin nor Death can pierce the fhield 
 
 Thy defence has o'er me thrown, 
 Up to Thee myself I yield, 
 
 And my sorrows are thine own. 
 
 On Thee, O my God, I reft, 
 
 Letting life float calmly on, 
 For I know the laft is beft, 
 
 When the crown of joy is won. 
 In thy might all things I bear, 
 
 In thy love find bitters sweet, 
 And with all my grief and care 
 
 Sit in patience at thy feet. 
 
 O, my soul, why art thou vex'd ? 
 
 Let things go e'en as they will ; 
 Though to thee they seem perplex'd 
 
 Yet his order they fulfil. 
 Here He is thy ftrength and guard, 
 
 Power to harm thee here has none ; 
 
1 66 Lyra Gcrmanica. 
 
 Yonder will He each reward 
 
 For the works he here has done. 
 
 Let thy mercy's wings be spread 
 
 O'er me, keep me close to Thee, 
 In the peace thy love doth {hed, 
 
 Let me dwell eternally. 
 Be my All ; in all I do 
 
 Let me only seek thy will, 
 Where the heart to Thee is true, 
 
 All is peaceful, calm, and still. 
 
 A. H. Francke. 1 663-1 727. 
 
 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God, 
 follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 WHY halted thus, deluded heart, 
 Why waverelr. longer in thy choice ? 
 Is it so hard to choose the part 
 
 Offer'd by Heaven's entreating voice ? 
 Oh look with clearer eyes again, 
 Nor ftrive to enter in, in vain. 
 
 Press on ! 
 y 
 
 Remember, 'tis not Caesar's throne, 
 
 Nor earthly honor, wealth, or might, 
 
Lyra Germanlca. 167 
 
 Whereby God's favor fhall be fliown 
 
 To him who conquers in this fight ; 
 Himself and an eternity 
 Of bliss and reft He offers thee. 
 Press on ! 
 
 Then break the rotten bonds away, 
 
 That hinder you your race to run, 
 
 That make you linger oft and ftay ; 
 Oh, be your course afrefh begun ! 
 
 Let no false reft your soul deceive, 
 
 Up ! 'tis a Heaven ye muft achieve ! 
 Press on ! 
 
 Omnipotence is on your fide, 
 
 And wisdom watches o'er your heads, 
 And God himself will be your guide 
 
 So ye but follow where He leads j 
 How many guided by his hand, 
 Have reach'd ere now their native land. 
 Press on ! 
 
 Let not the body dull the soul, 
 
 Its weakness, fears, and floth despise ; 
 
 Man toils and roams from pole to pole 
 To gain some earthly fleeting prize, 
 
 The higheft good he little cares 
 
 To win, or ftriving soon despairs. 
 Press on ! 
 
168 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 Oh, help each other, haften on, 
 
 Behold the goal is nigh at hand ; 
 Soon fhall the battle-field be won, 
 
 Soon (hall your King before you ftand ! 
 To calmeft reft He leads you now, 
 And sets his crown upon your brow. 
 Press on ! 
 
 Lehr. 1733. 
 
 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 In thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand there are 
 pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16: 12. 
 
 f~\ FRIEND of souls, how well is me 
 ^~* Whene'er thy love my spirit calms ! 
 From sorrow's dungeon forth I flee 
 
 And hide me in thy fhelt'ring arms. 
 The night of weeping flies away 
 Before the heat-reviving ray 
 
 Of love, that beams from out thy bread ; 
 Here is my heaven on earth begun ; 
 Who were not joyful had he won 
 
 In Thee, O God, his joy and reft ! 
 
 The world may call herself my foe, 
 So be it ; for I truft her not, 
 
Lyra Germanica. 169 
 
 E'en though a friendly face fhe fhow, 
 
 And heap with her good things my lot. 
 
 In Thee alone will I rejoice, 
 
 Thou art the Friend, Lord, of my choice, 
 For Thou art true when friendfhips fail ; 
 
 'Mid florins of woe thy truth is ftill 
 
 My anchor ; hate me as it will, 
 
 The world fhall o'er me ne'er prevail. 
 
 Through deserts of the cross Thou leadeft, 
 
 I follow leaning on thy hand ; 
 From out the clouds thy child Thou feedefr, 
 
 And giv'ft him water from the sand. 
 I know thy wondrous ways will end 
 In love and bleffing, Thou true Friend, 
 
 Enough if Thou art ever near ! 
 I know, whom Thou wilt glorify, 
 And raise o'er sun and ftars on high, 
 
 Thou lead'ft through depths and darkness here. 
 
 Deszler. 1692. 
 
:yo Lyra Germanica. 
 
 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Then Hczekiah received the letter at the hands of the messenger, 
 and read it, and Hezekiah went up into the house of the Lord, and 
 spread it before the Lord. From the Lesson. 
 
 LEAVE God to order all thy ways, 
 And hope in Him whate'er betide, 
 Thou'lt find Him in the evil days 
 
 Thy all-sufficient ftrength and guide ; 
 Who trufts in God's unchanging love, 
 Builds on the rock that nought can move. 
 
 What can these anxious cares avail 
 
 These never-ceafing moans and fighs ? 
 
 What can it help us to bewail 
 
 Each painful moment as it flies? 
 
 Our cross and trials do but press 
 
 The heavier for our bitterness. 
 
 Only thy reftless heart keep ftill, 
 
 And wait in cheerful hope ; content 
 
 To take whate'er his gracious will, 
 His all-discerning love hath sent. 
 
 Doubt not our inmoft wants arc known 
 
 To Him who chose us for his own. 
 
Lyra Germanica. 1 7 : 
 
 He knows when joyful hours are beft, 
 He sends them as He sees it meet ; 
 
 When thou haft borne the fiery teft, 
 And art made free from all deceit, 
 
 He comes to thee all unaware 
 
 And makes thee own his loving care. 
 
 Nor in the heat of pain and ftrife, 
 
 Think God hath caft thee off unheard, 
 
 And that the man, whose prosperous life 
 Thou envieft, is of Him preferr'd. 
 
 Time pafles and much change doth bring, 
 
 And sets a bound to every thing. 
 
 All are alike before his face ; 
 
 'Tis easy to our God moft High 
 To make the rich man poor and base, 
 
 To give the poor man wealth and joy. 
 True wonders ftill by Him are wrought, 
 Who setteth up, and brings to nought. 
 
 Sing, pray, and swerve not from his ways, 
 But do thine own part faithfully, 
 
 Truft his rich promises of grace 
 
 So mail they be fulfill'd in thee ; 
 
 God never yet forsook at need 
 
 The soul that trufted Him indeed. 
 
 Neumarck. 1653. 
 
7 2 Lyt 
 
 rermanica. 
 
 MORNING HYMN. 
 
 COME, my soul, awake, 'tis morning, 
 Day is dawning 
 O'er the earth, arise and pray ; 
 Come, to Him who made this splendor, 
 
 Thou muft render 
 All thy feeble powers can pay. 
 
 From the ftars now learn thy duty, 
 
 See their beauty 
 Paling in the golden air ; 
 So God's light thy mifts mould banifh, 
 
 Thus mould vanifh 
 What to darken'd sense seem'd fair. 
 
 See how every thing that liveth, 
 
 Gladly ftriveth 
 On the pleasant light to gaze ; 
 Stirs with joy each thing that groweth, 
 
 As it knoweth 
 Darkness smitten by its rays. 
 
 Soul, thy incense also proffer ; 
 
 Thou mould ft offer 
 Praise to Him, who from thy head 
 
Lyra Germanica. 173 
 
 Kept afar the ftorms of sorrow, 
 
 That the morrow- 
 Finds the night in peace hath fled. 
 
 Bid Him bless what thou art doing, 
 
 If pursuing 
 Some good aim ; but if there lurks 
 111 intent in thine endeavor, 
 
 May He ever 
 Thwart and turn thee from thy works. 
 
 Think that He, the all-discerning, 
 
 Knows each turning 
 Of thy path, each finful ftain ; 
 Nay, what fhame would fain gloss over, 
 
 Can discover ; 
 All thou doft to Him is plain. 
 
 Bound unto the flying hours 
 
 Are our powers ; 
 Earth's vain good floats down their wave, 
 That thy (hip, my soul, is halting, 
 
 Never refting, 
 To its haven in the grave. 
 
 Pray that when thy life is clofing, 
 
 Calm repofing, 
 Thou mayft die, and not in pain ; 
 That the night of death departed, 
 
*74 
 
 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 
 Thou glad-hearted, 
 
 Mayft 
 
 behold the Sun again. 
 
 From 
 
 God's glances fhrink thou never, 
 
 
 Meet them ever ; 
 
 Who 
 
 submits him to his grace, 
 
 Finds 
 
 that earth no sunfhine knoweth 
 
 
 Such as gloweth 
 
 O'er ] 
 
 lis pathway all his days. 
 
 Waken'ft thou again to sorrow, 
 
 
 Oh ! then borrow 
 
 Streng 
 
 th from Him, whose sun-like might 
 
 On th 
 
 e mountain-summit tarries, 
 
 
 And yet carries 
 
 To th 
 
 e vales their mirth and light. 
 
 Round the gifts He on thee mowers, 
 
 Fiery towers 
 Will He set, be not afraid ; 
 Thou fhalt dwell 'mid angel-legions, 
 
 In the regions 
 Satan's self dares not invade. 
 
 Von Conitz. 1 654-1 699. 
 
Lyra Germanica. 175 
 
 FOR THE SICK AND DYING. 
 
 GOD ! whom I as Love have known, 
 Thou haft fickness laid on me, 
 And these pains are sent of Thee, 
 Under which I burn and moan ; 
 Let them burn away the fin, 
 
 That too oft hath check'd the love 
 Wherewith Thou my heart wouldft move, 
 When thy Spirit works within ! 
 
 In my weakness be Thou ftrong, 
 
 Be Thou sweet when I am sad, 
 
 Let me ftill in Thee be glad, 
 Though my pains be keen and long. 
 All that plagues my body now, 
 
 All that wafteth me away, 
 
 Prefiing on me night and day, 
 Love hath sent, for Love art Thou ! 
 
 Suffering is the work now sent, 
 
 Nothing can I do but lie 
 
 Suffering as the hours go by ; 
 All my powers to this are bent. 
 Suffering is my gain ; I bow 
 
 To my heavenly Father's will 
 
 And receive it hufh'd and ftill ; 
 Suffering is my worfhip now. 
 
 Richter, 17 13. 
 
i 7 6 
 
 Lyra Germanica. 
 
 FOR THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 \TOW refts her soul in Jesus' arms, 
 
 i> 
 
 ' Her body in the grave fleeps well, 
 
 His 
 
 heart her death-chill'd heart rewarms, 
 
 
 And reft more deep than tongue can tell, — 
 
 Her 
 
 few brief hours of conflict paff'd, — 
 
 She 
 
 finds with Chrift, her Friend, at laft ; 
 
 She bathes in tranquil seas of peace, 
 
 
 God wipes away her tears, fhe feels 
 
 
 New life that all her languor heals, 
 
 The 
 
 glory of the Lamb fhe sees. 
 
 She 
 
 hath escaped all danger now, 
 
 
 Her pain and fighing all are fled ; 
 
 The 
 
 crown of joy is on her brow, 
 
 
 Eternal glories o'er her fhed, 
 
 In golden robes, a queen, a bride, 
 
 She 
 
 ftandcth at her Sovereign's fide, 
 
 She 
 
 sees his face unveil'd and bright ; 
 
 
 With joy and love He greets her soul 
 
 
 She sees herself made inly whole, 
 
 A 1 
 
 sfler light amid his light. 
 
 The 
 
 child hath now its Father seen, 
 
 
 And feels what kindling love may be, 
 
 And 
 
 knoweth what those words may mean, 
 
 
 " Himself, the Father, loveth thee." 
 
Lyra Germanica. 
 
 11 
 
 A fhoreless ocean, an abyss 
 
 Unfathom'd, fill'd with good and bliss, 
 
 Now breaks on her enraptured fight ; 
 
 She sees God's face, fhe learneth there 
 What this fhall be, to be his heir, 
 
 Joint heir with Chrift her Lord, in light. 
 
 Allendorf, 1 725. 
 
LYRA APOSTOLICA. 
 
Lyra Apojlolica. 
 
 LYRA APOSTOLICA. 
 
 HOLINESS. 
 " The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." 
 
 THERE is not on the earth a soul so base 
 But may obtain a place 
 In covenanted grace ; 
 So that forthwith his prayer of faith obtains 
 
 Release of his guilt-ftains, 
 And firft-fruits of the second birth, 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 fhower. — 
 
 And this is not at once ; — by failings gained, 
 And trials well suftained, 
 
 By pureness, righteous deeds, and toils of love, 
 
 Abidance in the truth, and zeal for God above. 
 
[82 Lyra Apojlolica. 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 " Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me." 
 
 LORD, in this duft thy sovereign voice 
 Firft quickened 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 bleflings given, ere dawning sense 
 
 Could seek or scan thy grace ; 
 
 Bleflings in boyhood's marvelling hour 
 
 Bright dreams, and fancyings ftrange ; 
 
 Bleflings, when reason's awful power 
 Gave thought a bolder range ; 
 
 Bleflings of friends, which to my door 
 Unafked, unhoped, have come ; 
 
 And, choicer {till, a countless {tore 
 Of eager smiles at home. 
 
 Yet, Lord, in memory's fondeft place 
 
 I {hrine those seasons sad, 
 When, looking up, I saw thy face 
 
 In kind auftereness clad. 
 
Lyra Apojiolica. 183 
 
 I would not miss one ngh or tear 
 Heart-pang or throbbing brow ; 
 
 Sweet was the chaftisement severe, 
 And sweet its memory now. 
 
 Yes ! let the fragrant scars abide, 
 
 Love-tokens in thy ftead, 
 Faint fhadows of the spear-pierced fide, 
 
 And thorn-encompafTed head. 
 
 And such thy loving force be ftill, 
 'Mid life's fierce fhifting fray, 
 
 Shaping to Truth self's froward will 
 Along thy narrow way. 
 
 Deny me wealth ; far, far remove 
 The lure of power or name ; 
 
 Hope thrives in ftraits, in weakness Love, 
 And Faith in this world's fhame. 
 
[84 Lyra Apojlolica. 
 
 DISCIPLINE. 
 
 WHEN I look back upon my former race, 
 Seasons I see, at which the Inward Ray 
 More brightly burned, 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 ftrange eventful day, 
 To my tormented soul such larger grace. 
 So now, whene'er, in journeying on, I feel 
 The fhadow of the Providential Hand, 
 Deep breathless ftirrings moot across my breaft, 
 Searching to know what He will now reveal, 
 What fin uncloak, what stricter rule command, 
 And girding me to work his full beheft. 
 
 LEAD THOU ME ON. 
 
 SHED kindly light amid the encircling gloom 
 And lead me on! 
 The night is dark, and I am far from home, 
 
 Lead Thou me on ! 
 Keep Thou my feet : I do not afk to see 
 The dijiant scene : one ftep enough for me. 
 
Lyra Apoftotica. 185 
 
 I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou 
 Should'ft lead me on ! 
 
 I loved to choose and see my path, but now- 
 Lead Thou me on ! 
 
 I loved day's dazzling light, and spite of fears 
 
 Pride ruled my will ; remember not paft years ! 
 
 So long thy power hath blefTed me, surely frill 
 
 'Twill lead me on ! 
 Through dreary doubt, through pain and sorrow till 
 
 The night is gone. 
 And with the morn those angel faces smile 
 Which I have loved long fince, and loft awhile. 
 
 DEEDS NOT WORDS. 
 
 PRUNE thou thy words, the thoughts control 
 That o'er thee swell and throng; 
 They will condense within thy soul 
 And change to purpose ftrong. 
 
 But he, who lets his feelings run 
 
 In soft luxurious flow, 
 Shrinks when hard service muft be done, 
 
 And faints at every woe. 
 
86 Lyra Apojldica. 
 
 Faith's meaneft deed more favour bears, 
 Where hearts and wills are weighed, 
 
 Than brighteft transports, choiceft prayers, 
 Which bloom their hour and fade. 
 
 HOLINESS. 
 " Be strong, and He shall comfort thine heart." 
 
 " T ORD, I have fafted, I have prayed, 
 
 •■— ' And sackcloth has my girdle been, 
 To purge my soul I have e flayed 
 
 With hunger blank and vigil keen. 
 O God of mercy ! why am I 
 Still haunted by the self I fly ? " 
 
 Sackcloth is a girdle good, 
 
 O bind it round thee ftill ; 
 Fafting, it is angels' food, 
 
 And Jesus loved the night-air chill ; 
 Yet think not prayer and fall were given 
 To make one ftep 'twixt earth and heaven. 
 
Lyra Jpo/Iolica. 187 
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN. 
 
 ' Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women." 
 
 O HEART of fire! misjudged by wilful man, 
 Thou flower of JeiTe's race ! 
 What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan 
 
 Laft greeted face to face ! 
 He doom'd to die, thou on us to impress 
 The portent of a blood-ftained 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 sceptre of a blameless friend. 
 
 Ah ! had he lived, before thy throne to ftand 
 
 Thy spirit keen and high, 
 Sure it had snapped in twain love's flender band, 
 
 So dear in memory ; 
 Paul's ftrife unbleft,* its serious leflbn gives, 
 He bides with us who dies, he is but loft who lives. 
 
 * Acts K : 7Q. 
 
Lyra Apoftol'ica. 
 
 BEREAyEMENT. 
 
 ' Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in duft and ashes." 
 
 Job xlii 
 
 AND dare I say, " welcome to me 
 The pang that proves thee near ? " 
 O words, too oft on bended knee 
 
 Breathed to the Unerring Ear. 
 While the cold spirit filently 
 
 Pines at the scourge severe. 
 
 Nay, try once more — thine eyelids close 
 
 For prayer intense and meek : 
 When the warm light gleams through and fhows 
 
 Him near who helps the weak. 
 Unmurmuring then thy heart's repose 
 
 In duft and afhes seek. 
 
 But when the self-abhorring thrill 
 
 Is paft, as pass it muft, 
 When tasks of life thy spirit fill, 
 
 Risen from thy tears and duft, 
 Then be the self-renouncing will 
 
 The seal of thy calm truft. 
 
Lyra Apojlolica. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 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 scanned by eyes unseen, 
 And these no saint surround ; 
 
 They mete what is, by what has been, 
 And joy the loft is found. 
 
 Erst my good Angel fhrank to see 
 My thoughts and ways of ill ; 
 
 And now he scarce dare gaze on me, 
 Scar-seamed and crippled ftill. 
 
190 
 
 Lyra Apojlolica. 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 It is I : be not afraid." 
 
 WHEN I fink down in gloom or fear, 
 Hope blighted or delayed, 
 Thy whisper, Lord, my heart fhall cheer 
 " 'Tis I : be not afraid ! " 
 
 Or, ftartled at some sudden blow, 
 
 If fretful thoughts I feel, 
 "Fear not, it is but I ! " (hall flow 
 
 As balm my wound to heal. 
 
 Nor will I quit thy way, though foes 
 
 Some onward pass defend j 
 From each rough voice the watchword goes, 
 
 " Be not afraid ! . . . a friend ! " 
 
 And O ! when judgment's trumpet clear 
 Awakes me fiom the grave, 
 
 Still in its echo may I hear, 
 
 " 'Tis Chrift ! He comes to save." 
 
Lyra Apojiolica. 19 1 
 
 HOME. 
 
 BANISHED the House of sacred reft 
 Amid a thoughtless throng, 
 At length I heard its Creed confeffed, 
 And knelt the Saints among. 
 
 Artless his ftrain and unadorned, 
 
 Who spoke Chrift's meflage there ; 
 
 But what at home I might have scorned, 
 Now charmed my famifhed ear. 
 
 Lord, grant me this abiding grace, 
 Thy Word and Sons to know ; 
 
 To pierce the veil on Moses' face, 
 Although his speech be flow ! 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 195 
 
 LYRA INNOCENTIUM. 
 
 UNWEARIED LOVE. 
 
 " Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times ; but 
 until seventy times seven." 
 
 MY child, the counsels high attend 
 Of thine Eternal Friend. 
 When longings pure, when holy prayers, 
 When self-denying thoughts and cares 
 
 Room in thy heart would win, 
 Stay not too long to count them o'er ; 
 Rise in His name ; throw wide the door, 
 Let the good Angels in : 
 
 Nor liften, mould the Tempter say, 
 
 " How wearying, day by day, 
 To say the prayer we said before, 
 The mountain path climb o'er and o'er, 
 No end to warfare find!" 
 
196 Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 Nor seek thou limit to discern 
 In patient woe, in duty (tern, 
 
 But learn thy (Saviour's) mind. 
 
 He pardoning wearies not. Ah why 
 
 Behold with evil eye 
 Thy brother afking grace for fin ? 
 He doth but aid thee, more to win 
 
 Of hope in thy laft end. 
 In heart forgive — that pays Him all : 
 But grudging souls muft die in thrall, 
 
 No Saviour and no Friend. 
 
 THE BOY WITH THE FIVE LOAVES. 
 [f thou hast little, do thy diligence gladly to give of that little." 
 
 w 
 
 HAT time the Saviour spread his feaft 
 For thousands on the mountain's fide, 
 One of the laft and leaft 
 
 The abundant store supplied. 
 
 Haply the wonders to behold, 
 
 A boy, 'mid other boys he came, 
 A lamb of Jesus' fold, 
 
 Though now unknown by name. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 197 
 
 Or for his sweet obedient ways 
 
 The Apoftles brought him near, to fhare 
 Their Lord's laborious days, 
 His frugal bafket bear. 
 
 Or might it be his duteous heart 
 That led him sacrifice to bring 
 For his own fimple part, 
 
 To the world's hidden King ? 
 
 Well may I guess how glow'd his cheek, 
 How he look'd down, half pride, half fear 
 Far off he saw one speak 
 Of him in Jesus' ear. 
 
 " There is a lad — five loaves hath he, 
 And fifties twain — but what are they, 
 Where hungry thousands be ? " 
 Nay, Chrift will find a way. 
 
 In order, on the frefh green hill, 
 
 The mighty Shepherd ranks his fheep 
 By tens and fifties, ftill 
 
 As clouds when breezes fleep. 
 
 Or who can tell the trembling joy, 
 Who paint the grave endearing look, 
 When from that favored boy 
 
 The wondrous pledge He took? — 
 
198 Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 Keep thou, dear child, thine early word j 
 Bring Him thy beft : who knows but He 
 For his eternal board 
 
 May take some gift of thee ? 
 
 Thou prayeft without the veil as yet : 
 But kneel in faith : an arm benign 
 Such prayers will duly set 
 Within the holieft fhrine. 
 
 And Prayer has might to spread and grow. 
 Thy childiih darts, right-aim'd on high, 
 May catch Heaven's fire, and glow 
 Far in the eternal fky : 
 
 Even as He made that ftripling's ftore 
 Type of the feaft by Him decreed, 
 Where Angels might adore, 
 And souls for ever feed. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 199 
 
 HEZEKTAH'S DISPLAY. 
 
 " There is nothing among my treasures that I have not showed 
 them." 
 
 WHEN Heaven in mercy gives thy prayers return, 
 And Angels bring thee treasures from on high, 
 Shut fast the door, nor let the world discern, 
 And offer thee fond praise when God is nigh. 
 
 In friendly guise, perchance with friendly heart, 
 From Babel, see, they hafte with words of love : 
 
 But if thou lightly all thy wealth impart, 
 
 Their race will come again, a nd all remoyje. 
 
 Ill thoughts, the children of that King of Pride, 
 O'er richeft halls will swarm, and holieft bowers, 
 
 Profaning firft, then spoiling far and wide : 
 
 Voluptuous Sloth make free with Sharon's flowers. 
 
 Close thou the garden-gate, and keep the key, 
 There chiefly, where the tender seedlings fold 
 
 Their dainty leaves — a treasure even to thee 
 Unknown, till air celeftial make them bold. 
 
 When sun and mower give token, freely then 
 The fragrance will fteal out, the flower unclose : 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 But busy hands, and an admiring ken, 
 
 Have blighted ere its hour full many a rose. 
 
 Then reft thee, bright one, in thy tranquil nook, 
 Fond eyes to cherifh thee, true arms to keep, 
 
 Nor wiftful for the world's gay sunfhine look ; — 
 In its own time the light will o'er thee sweep. 
 
 FINE CLOTHES. 
 
 " And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way : 
 others cut down branches from the trees, and strewed them in the 
 way." 
 
 (For Palm Sunday.) 
 
 LOOK weftward, penfive little one, 
 How the bright hues together run, 
 Around where late the waning sun 
 
 Sank in his evening cloud. 
 Or eaftward turn thee, and admire 
 How linger yet the mowers of fire, 
 Deep in each fold, high on each spire 
 Of yonder mountain proud. 
 
 Thou seeft it not : an envious screen, 
 A fluttering leaflet, hangs between 
 
uyra 
 
 Innoccntiitm. 
 
 Thee and that fair myfterious scene, 
 
 A veil too near thine eye. 
 One finger's breadth at hand will mar 
 A world of light in heaven afar, 
 A mote eclipse a glorious ftar, 
 
 An eyelid hide the iky. 
 
 And while to clear the view we ftay 
 Lo ! the bright hour hath paff'd away ; 
 A twilight haze, all dim and gray, 
 
 Hath quench'd the living gleam. 
 Remember this, thou little child, 
 In hours of prayer, when fancies wild 
 Betwixt thee and thy Saviour mild 
 
 Come floating on life's ftream. 
 
 O fhame, O grief, when earth's rude toys, 
 An opening door, a breath, a noise, 
 Drive from the heart th' eternal joys, 
 
 Displace the Lord of Love ! 
 For half a prayer perchance on high 
 We soar, and heaven seems bright and nigh, 
 But ah ! too soon frail heart and eye 
 
 Sink down and earthward rove. 
 
 The Sunday garment glittering gay 
 The Sunday heart will fteal away. 
 Then hafte thee, ere the fond glance ftray, 
 Thy precious robes unfold, 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 And caft before thy Saviour's feet : 
 Him spare not with thy beft to greet, 
 Nor dread the duft of Sion's ftreet, 
 'Tis jewels all and gold. 
 
 SHYNESS. 
 
 " Moses hid his face ; for he was afraid to look upon God." 
 
 TEAR not away the veil, dear friend, 
 Nor from its fhelter rudely rend 
 The heaven-protecled flower : 
 It waits for sun and fhower 
 To woo it kindly forth in its own time, 
 And when they come, untaught will know its hour of 
 prime. 
 
 Blame not the eye that from thee turns, 
 The cheek that in a moment burns 
 With tingling fire so bright, 
 Feeling thine eager fight, — 
 The lowly drooping brow, the ftammering tongue, 
 The giddy wavering thought, scarce knowing right and 
 wrong. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 203 
 
 With quivering hands that closely fold 
 Over his downcaft eyes, behold 
 
 The Shepherd on the Mount 
 
 Adores the Living Fount 
 Of pure unwafting fire : no glance he deals, 
 But in his heart's deep joy the Dread Eye gazing feels, — 
 
 Feels it, and gladlier far would die 
 Than let it go. There will he lie 
 
 Till the Dread Voice return, 
 
 And he the lore may learn 
 Of his appointed taik — bold deeds to dare, 
 High myfteries to impart, deep penances to bear. 
 
 Then tear we not the veil away, 
 Nor ruthless tell in open day 
 
 The tender spirit's dream. 
 
 O let the deepening ftream, 
 Might, from the mountain-springs in filence draw ; 
 O mar we not his work, who trains his saints in awe. 
 
204 Lyra Innocenthun. 
 
 THE GLEANERS. 
 
 THE Church is one wide harveft field, 
 Where Time and Death are gathering in 
 Rich bleflings by the Almighty owner sealed 
 For spirits meet his pardoning word to win. 
 
 We are as children : here and there 
 
 A few fallen ears, the fheaves among, 
 We glean, where beft the bounteous Hand may spare, 
 
 So learning for his perfect ftore to long. 
 
 Come, little ones — come early out, 
 
 Come joyous, come with fteady heart, 
 Roam not to seek wild flowers the field about, 
 
 Nor yet at dreams of fancied vipers ftart. 
 
 The sun of Autumn climbs full faft : 
 He will have quaffed each drop of dew, 
 
 Ere half the fragrant, healthy lane be pafTed, 
 
 The lingerers, they will find scant ears and few. 
 
 Come, quit your toys, and hafte away. 
 
 But mark : ye may not leave behind 
 Your ftore of smiles, your gladsome talk and gay, 
 
 Your pure thoughts, fafhioned to your Matter's mind. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 205 
 
 Blithe be your course, yet bear in heart 
 The lame and old, and help them on ; 
 
 Full handfulls drop where they may take a part, 
 As high will swell your heap when day is done. 
 
 Yon flumbering infant in the made, — 
 Grudge not one hour on him to wait 
 
 While others glean. The work with Tinging aid, 
 With ready mirth all fharper tones abate. 
 
 Sing softly in your heart all day 
 
 Sweet carols to the harveft's Lord, 
 So mall ye chase those evil powers away 
 
 That walk at noon — rude gaze and wanton word. 
 
 EFFECT OF EXAMPLE. 
 
 " For I have five brethren ; that he may testify unto them, lest 
 they also come into this place of torment." 
 
 FIVE loving souls, each one as mine, 
 And each for evermore to be ! 
 Each deed of each to thrill 
 
 For good or ill 
 Along thine awful line, 
 Eternity ! 
 
206 Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 Who for such burden may suffice ? 
 
 Who bear to think, how scornful tone, 
 Or word or glance too bold, 
 
 Or ill dream told, 
 
 May bar from Paradise 
 
 Our Mailer's own ? 
 
 ■ 
 
 We scatter seeds with careless hand, 
 
 And dream we ne'er fhall see them more 
 But for a thousand years 
 
 Their fruit appears, 
 In weeds that mar the land, 
 Or healthful frore. 
 
 The deeds we do, the words we say, — 
 Into frill air they seem to fleet, 
 We count them ever pad ; 
 
 But they fhall lair, 
 In the dread judgment they 
 And we fhall meet ! 
 
 I charge 
 
 thee by the years gone 
 
 by, 
 
 For 
 
 the love's sake 
 
 of breth 
 
 -en dear, 
 
 
 Keep thou the 
 
 one true 
 
 way 
 
 
 In work and 
 
 play, 
 
 
 
 Left in that world their 
 
 cry 
 
 
 Of woe thou 
 
 hear ! 
 
 
Lyra Innocentlum. 207 
 
 THE WATERFALL. 
 
 " Ye also, as lively stones, are built up, a spiritual house.' 
 " I will make thy seed as the dust of the earth." 
 
 "W H A ; 
 
 HAT is the Church, and what am I ? 
 world, to one poor sandy grain, 
 A wafte of sea and iky 
 To one frail drop of rain. 
 
 " What boots one feeble infant tone 
 To the full choir denied or given, 
 Where millions round the Throne 
 Are chanting, morn and even ? " 
 
 Nay, the kind Watchers hearkening there 
 Diftinguifh in the deep of song 
 Each little wave, each air 
 Upon the faltering tongue. 
 
 Each half note in the great Amen, 
 Even by the utterer's self unheard, 
 They ftore : O fail not then 
 To bring thy lowly word : 
 
 Spare not to swell the bold acclaim ; 
 So in the future battle-fhout, 
 When at the Saviour's name 
 The Church mail call thee out, 
 
2o8 Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 No doubtful sound thy trump fhall pour. 
 Remember, when in earlier days 
 Thou toil'dft upon the floor 
 Palace or tower to raise, 
 
 No mimic ftone but found a place, 
 And glorious to the builder (hone 
 The pile : then how fhould Grace 
 One living gem disown, 
 
 One pearly mote, one diamond small, 
 One sparkle of th' unearthly light ? — 
 Go where the waters fall 
 
 Sheer from the mountains height ; 
 
 Mark how, a thousand ftreams in one, 
 One in a thousand on they fare, 
 Now flaming to the sun, 
 Now ftill as beaft in lair. 
 
 Now round the rock, now mounting o'er, 
 In lawless dance they win their way, 
 Still seeming more and more 
 To swell as we survey. 
 
 They win their way,, and find their reft 
 Together in their ocean home. 
 From Eaft and weary Weft, 
 
 From North and South they come. 
 
Lyra Innocentium, 209 
 
 They rufh and roar, they whirl and leap, 
 Not wilder drives the wintry ftorm : 
 Yet a ftrong law they keep, 
 
 Strange powers their course inform. 
 
 Even so the mighty fky-born ftream : — 
 Its living waters from above 
 All marr'd and broken seem, 
 No union and no love. 
 
 Yet in dim caves they haply blend, 
 In dreams of mortals unespied : 
 One is their awful End, 
 One their unfailing Guide. 
 
 We that with eye too daring seek 
 
 To scan their course, all giddy turn : — 
 Not so the floweret meek, 
 Harebell or nodding fern : 
 
 They from the rocky wall's fteep fide 
 Lean without fear, and drink the spray ; 
 The torrent's foaming pride 
 
 But keeps them green and gay. 
 
 And Chrift hath lowly hearts, that reft 
 Amid fallen Salem's rufh and ftrife ; 
 The pure, peace-loving breaft 
 Even here can find her life. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 What though in harm and angry note 
 The broken flood chafe high ? they muse 
 On mifts that lightly float, 
 On heaven-descending dews, 
 
 On virgin snows, the feeders pure 
 
 Of the bright river's mountain springs : — 
 And ftill their prayers endure, 
 And Hope sweet answer brings. 
 
 If of the Living Cloud they be 
 Baptismal drops, and onward press 
 Toward the Living Sea 
 By deeds of holiness, 
 
 Then to the Living Waters ftill 
 
 (O joy with trembling!) they pertain, 
 Joined by some hidden rill, 
 Low in Earth's darkeft vein. 
 
 Scorn not one drop : of drops the mower 
 Is made, of mowers the waterfall : 
 Of children's souls the Power 
 Doomed to be Queen o'er all. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. l\\ 
 
 CHURCH DECORATIONS. 
 
 " I will not offer burnt-offerings without cost.' 
 
 WHY deck the high cathedral roof 
 With foliage rich and rare, 
 With crowns and flowerets far aloof, 
 To none but angels fair ? 
 
 "Why for the lofty Altar hide 
 Thy gems and gold in ftore ? 
 
 Why spread the burnifhed pall so wide 
 Upon the chancel floor ? " 
 
 Nay, rather afk, why duteous boy 
 
 And mother-loving maid 
 Scarce in their filial gifts find joy, 
 
 If nought of theirs be paid : 
 
 Why hearts, that true love-tokens need 
 
 For brother or for friend, 
 Count not the coft with careful heed, 
 
 But hafte their all to spend : 
 
 Afk why of old the favored king 
 Inquired the Temple's price, 
 
 Not bearing to his Lord to bring 
 An unbouo-ht sacrifice. 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 Yea, lowly fall, and of thy Lord 
 
 In filence afk and dread, 
 Why praised He Mary's ointment, poured 
 
 Upon his Sacred Head. 
 
 ELIJAH AT SAREPTA. 
 
 " Make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and 
 after make for thee and for thy son." 
 
 LO, caft at random on the wild sea sand 
 A child low wailing lies : 
 Around, with eye forlorn and feeble hand, 
 
 Scarce heeding its faint cries, 
 The widowed mother in the wilderness 
 Gathers dry boughs, their laft sad meal to bless. 
 
 But who is this that comes with mantle rude 
 
 And vigil-wafted air ? 
 Who to the famifhed cries, " Come give me food, 
 
 I with thy child would fhare ? " 
 She bounteous gives : but hard he seems of heart, 
 Who of such scanty ftore would crave a part. 
 
 Haply the child his little hand holds forth, 
 That all his own may be. — 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 213 
 
 Nay, fimple one, thy mother's faith is worth 
 
 Healing and life to thee. 
 That handful given, for years insures thee bread 
 That drop of oil mail raise thee from the dead. 
 
 For in yon haggard form He begs unseen, 
 
 To whom for life we kneel : 
 One little cake He afks with lowly mien, 
 
 Who blefles every meal. 
 Lavifh for Him, ye poor, your children's ftore 
 So fhall your cruise for many a day run o'er. 
 
 THE EMPTY CHURCH. 
 
 " The blind and the lame came to him in the temple." 
 
 WHY fhould we grudge the hour and house of prayer 
 To Chrift's own blind and lame, 
 Who come to meet Him there? 
 Better, be sure, his altar-flame 
 Should glow in one dim wavering spark, 
 Than quite die down, and leave his temple drear and dark. 
 
 " But in our Psalm their choral answers fail." 
 
 Nay, but the heart may speak, 
 
 And to the holy tale 
 Respond aright in filence meek. 
 
214 Lyra Innocentium. 
 
 And well we know, bright angel throngs 
 Are by, to swell those whisperings into warbled songs. 
 
 What if the world our two or three despise ? 
 
 They in his name are here, 
 
 To whom in suppliant guise 
 Of old the blind and lame drew near. 
 Befide his royal courts they wait 
 And afk his healing hand ; we dare not close the gate. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 217 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 — ©©©— 
 
 
 VIGILS. 
 
 
 TT is the fall of eve ; 
 -■- And the long tapers now we light 
 And watch : for we believe 
 Our Lord may come at night. 
 Adefte Fideles. 
 
 
 An hour — and it is Seven, 
 And faft away the evening rolls : 
 
 O, it is dark in heaven, 
 But light within our souls. 
 
 Veni Creator Spiritus ! 
 
 
 Hark! the old bell ftrikes Eight! 
 And ftill we watch with heart and ear, 
 
 For as the hour grows late, 
 The Day-ftar may be near. 
 Jubilate Deo ! 
 
 
 Hark ! it is knelling Nine ! 
 But faithful eyes grow never dim ; 
 
 
2 1 8 Miscellaneous . 
 
 And ftill our tapers fhine, 
 And ftill ascends our hymn. 
 Cum Angelis ! 
 
 The watchman crieth Ten ! 
 My soul, be watching for the Light, 
 
 For when he comes again, 
 'Tis as the thief at night. 
 Nisi Dominus ! 
 
 By the old bell — Eleven ! 
 Now trim thy lamps, and ready ftand ; 
 
 The world to fleep is given, 
 But Jesus is at hand. 
 De Profundis! 
 
 At midnight — is a cry ! 
 Is it the bridegroom draweth near ? 
 
 Come quickly, Lord, for I 
 Have long'd thy voice to hear! 
 Kyrie Eleison ! 
 
 Could ye not watch One hour ? 
 Be ready : or the bridal train 
 
 And bridegroom, with his dower, 
 May sweep along in vain. 
 Miserere mei ! 
 
 By the old fteeple — Two ! 
 And now I know the day is near ! 
 
Miscellaneous . 219 
 
 Watch — for his word is true, 
 And Jesus may appear ! 
 Dies Irae ! 
 
 Three — by the drowsy chime ! 
 And joy is nearer than at firft. 
 
 O, let us watch the time 
 When the firft light fhall burft ! 
 Sursum Corda. 
 
 Four — and a ftreak of day ! 
 At the cock-crowing He may come ; 
 
 And ftill to all I say, 
 Watch — and with awe be dumb. 
 Fili David! 
 
 Five ! — and the tapers now 
 In rosy morning dimly burn ! 
 
 Stand, and be girded thou, 
 Thy Lord will yet return ! 
 Veni Jesu! 
 
 Hark ! tis the Matin call ! 
 Oh, when our Lord fhall come again 
 
 At prime or even-fall, 
 Bleft are the wakeful men ! 
 Nunc dimittis. 
 
 A. C. Coxe. 
 
 Note. — The Latin lines, at the end of every stanza, are the titles 
 of chaunts appropriate to the several hours. Adeste : Hither ye 
 
220 Miscellaneous. 
 
 faithful. — Vent Creator : Come Holy Ghost. — Jubilate Deo : The 
 iooth Psalm. — Cum Angelis: Therefore with angels and archangels, 
 &c. — Nisi Dominus : Unless the Lord keep the city, the Watchman 
 waketh but in vain. — De Profundis : Out of the depths, Ps. 130. — 
 Kyrie Eleison: Lord have mercy upon us. — The Miserere: Ps. 57. — 
 Dies Irae : The day of wrath. — Sursum Corda : Lift up your hearts. 
 — Fili David : Son of David, have mercy upon us. — Veni Jesu : 
 Come Lord Jesus — come quickly. — Nunc Dimittis : Now Lord let- 
 test thou thy servant depart in peace, Luke 2. 29. 
 
 PENITENCE. 
 
 DEEPEN the wounds thy hands have made 
 In this weak, helpless soul, 
 Till mercy, with its balmy aid, 
 Descend to make me whole. 
 
 I see the exceeding broad command, 
 
 Which all contains in one : 
 Enlarge my heart to underftand 
 
 The myftery unknown. 
 
 O that, with all thy saints, I might 
 
 By sweet experience prove 
 What is the length, and breadth, and height, 
 
 And depth of perfect love ! 
 
 C. ITeslty. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 GOING TO CHRIST. 
 
 " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out. 
 John 6: 37. 
 
 JUST as I am ! without one plea 
 But that thy blood was fhed for me, 
 And that thou bid'ft me come to Thee, — 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
 Juft as I am, — and waiting not 
 
 To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
 
 To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot — 
 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
 Juft as I am — though tofTed about 
 With many a conflict, many a doubt — 
 Fightino-s within, and fears without — 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
 Juft as I am — poor, wretched, blind, 
 Sight, riches, healing of the mind, 
 Yea, all I need, in Thee to find, — 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
 Juft as I am — Thou wilt receive, 
 Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, 
 Because thy promise I believe — 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 Juft as I am — thy love unknown 
 Has broken every barrier down ; 
 Now to be thine, yea, thine alone, 
 Oh Lamb of God, I come! 
 
 LOVE OF GOD. 
 
 THOU Grace divine, encircling all 
 A soundless, fhoreless sea ! 
 Wherein at laft, our souls fhall fall, 
 O Love of God mod free ! 
 
 When over dizzy fteeps we go, 
 One soft hand blinds our eyes, 
 
 The other leads us safe and flow, 
 O Love of God moft wise ! 
 
 And though we turn us from thy face, 
 And wander wide and long, 
 
 Thou hold'ft us ftill in thine embrace, 
 O Love of God moft ftrong! 
 
 The saddened heart, the reftless soul 
 The toilworn frame and mind, 
 
 Alike confess thy sweet control, 
 O Love of God moft kind ! 
 
Miscellaneous. 223 
 
 But not alone thy care we claim, 
 Our wayward steps to win : 
 
 We know thee by a dearer name, 
 O Love of God within ! 
 
 And filled and quickened by thy breath, 
 Our souls are ftrong and free 
 
 To rise o'er fin, and fear, and death, 
 O Love of God, to thee ! 
 
 EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 I 
 
 COME to Thee to-night, 
 In my lone closet where no eye can see 
 And dare to crave an interview with Thee, 
 Father of love and light. 
 
 Softly the moonbeams mine 
 On the ftill branches of the fhadowy trees, 
 While all sweet sounds of evening on the breeze 
 
 Steal through the {lumbering vine. 
 
 Thou gav'ft the calm repose 
 That rests on all ; the air, the birds, the flower, 
 The human spirit in its weary hour 
 
 Now at the bright day's close. 
 
224 Miscellaneous. 
 
 'Tis Nature's time for prayer ; 
 The filent praises of the glorious iky, 
 And the earth's orisons profound and high 
 
 To Heaven their breathings bear. 
 
 With them my soul would bend 
 In humble reverence at thy Holy Throne, 
 Trufting the merits of thy Son alone 
 
 Thy sceptre to extend. 
 
 If I this day have ftriven 
 With thy bleft spirit, or have bowed the knee 
 To aught of earth in weak idolatry 
 
 I pray to be forgiven. 
 
 If in my heart has been 
 An unforgiving thought, or word, or look 
 Though deep the malice which I scarce could brook 
 
 Wafh me from the dark fin. 
 
 If I have turned away 
 From grief or suffering which I might relieve, 
 Careless the cup of water e'en to give 
 
 Forgive me Lord I pray. 
 
 And teach me how to feel 
 My finful wanderings with a deeper smart ; 
 And more of mercy and of grace impart 
 
 My finfulness to heal. 
 
Miscellaneous. 21$ 
 
 Father ! my soul would be 
 Pure as the drops of eve's unsullied dew — 
 And as the ftars whose nightly course is true — 
 
 So would I be to Thee. 
 
 Not for myself alone 
 Would I these bleflings of thy love implore ; 
 But for each penitent the wide earth o'er 
 
 Whom Thou haft called thine own. 
 
 And for my heart's beft friends, 
 Whose fteadfaft kindness o'er my painful years 
 Has watched to soothe affliction's griefs and tears, 
 
 My warmeft prayer ascends. 
 
 Should o'er their path decline 
 The light of gladness, or of hope, or health, 
 Be Thou their solace, and their joy, and wealth, 
 
 As they have long been mine. 
 
 And now, O Father, take 
 The heart I caft with humble faith on Thee, 
 And cleanse its depths from each impurity, 
 
 For my Redeemer's sake. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
226 Miscellaneous. 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 THE night is come ; like to the day, 
 Depart not thou, great God, away. 
 Let not my fins black as the night, 
 Eclipse the luftre of thy light. 
 Keep ftill in my horizon : for to me 
 The sun makes not the day, but Thee. 
 Thou whose nature cannot fleep, 
 On my temples sentry keep : 
 Guard me 'gainft those watchful foes, 
 Whose eyes are open while mine close. 
 Let no dreams my head infeft 
 But such as Jacob's temples bleft. 
 Whilft I do reft, my soul advance ; 
 Make my fleep a holy trance : 
 That I may, my reft being wrought, 
 Awake into some holy thought. 
 And with as active vigor run 
 My course, as doth the nimble sun. 
 Sleep is a death, O make me try, 
 By fleeping, what it is to die : 
 And as gently lay my head 
 On my grave as now my bed. 
 Howc'cr I reft, great God, let me 
 Awake again at Lift with Thee. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 227 
 
 And thus aflur'd, behold I lie 
 
 Securely, or to wake or die. 
 
 These are my drowsy days ; in vain 
 
 I do now wake to fleep again : 
 
 O come that hour, when I fhall never 
 
 Sleep thus again, but wake for ever. 
 
 Sir Thomas Browne. 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 T? RE the morning's busy ray 
 
 ■*— ' Call you to your work away ; 
 
 Ere the filent evening close 
 
 Your wearied eyes in sweet repose ; 
 
 To lift your heart and voice in prayer 
 
 Be your first and latest care. 
 
 He, to whom the prayer is due, 
 
 From heaven his throne fhall smile on you ; 
 
 Angels sent by Him fhall tend, 
 
 Your daily labor to befriend, 
 
 And their nightly vigils keep 
 
 To guard you in the hour of fleep. 
 
 Bijbop Mant. 
 
228 Miscellaneous . 
 
 OH Lord ! how happy fhould we be, 
 If we could leave our cares to Thee, 
 If we from self could reft : 
 And feel at heart that One above, 
 In perfect wisdom, perfect love 
 Is working, for the beft. 
 
 For when we kneel and caft our care 
 Upon our God in humble prayer, 
 
 With ftrengthened souls we rise. 
 Sure that our Father who is nigh 
 To hear the ravens when they cry 
 
 Will hear his children's cries. 
 
 Oh ! would these reftless hearts of ours 
 The leffon learn from birds and flowers 
 
 And learn from self to cease ; 
 Leave all things to our Father's will, 
 And in his mercy trufting ftill 
 
 Find in each trial, peace. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
Miscellaneous. 229 
 
 MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND. 
 
 FATHER, I know that all my life 
 Is portioned out for me, 
 And the changes that will surely come, 
 
 I do not fear to see ; 
 But I afk Thee for a present mind 
 Intent on pleafing Thee. 
 
 I afk Thee for a thoughtful love, 
 Through conftant watching wise, 
 
 To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 
 And to wipe the weeping eyes ; 
 
 And a heart at leisure from itself, 
 To sooth and sympathize. 
 
 I would not have the reftless will 
 
 That hurries to and fro, 
 Seeking for some great thing to do, 
 
 Or secret thing to know ; 
 I would be treated as a child, 
 
 And guided where I go. 
 
 Wherever in the world I am, 
 
 In whatsoe'er eftate, 
 I have a fellowfhip with hearts 
 
 To keep and cultivate ; 
 
230 Miscellaneous. 
 
 And a work of lowly love to do, 
 For the Lord on whom I wait. 
 
 So I afk Thee for the daily ftrength, 
 
 To none that aflc denied. 
 And a mind to blend with outward life, 
 
 While keeping at thy fide, 
 Content to fill a little space, 
 
 If Thou be glorified. 
 
 And if some things I do not afk 
 
 In my cup of bleiling be, 
 I would have my spirit fill'd the more 
 
 With grateful love to Thee — 
 And careful, less to serve Thee much, 
 
 Than to please Thee perfectly. 
 
 There are briars besetting every path, 
 Which call for patient care ; 
 
 There is a cross in every lot, 
 And an earned need for prayer ; 
 
 But a lowly heart that leans on Thee 
 Is happy anywhere. 
 
 In a service which thy love appoints, 
 There are no bonds for me ; 
 
 For my secret heart is taught "the truth 
 That makes thy children " free ; " 
 
 And a life of self-renouncing love, 
 Is a life of liberty. 
 
Miscellaneous . 231 
 
 IN having all things and not Thee, what have I ? 
 Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? 
 Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ? 
 
 And having Thee alone what have I not ? 
 I wifh not sea nor land ; nor would I be 
 PofTefled of heaven, heaven unpofTefled of Thee. 
 
 Great God ! Thou art the flowing spring of light ; 
 
 Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent ray ; 
 Thou art my path ; direct my fteps aright, 
 
 I have no other light, no other way ; 
 I'll truft my God, and Him alone pursue : 
 His law fhall be my path, his heavenly light my clue. 
 
 $>uarks. 
 
 EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST. 
 
 HE is a path, if any be mifled ; 
 He is a robe, if any naked be ; 
 If any chance to hunger, He is bread ; 
 If any be a bondman, He is free ; 
 If any be but weak, how ftrong is He ! 
 To dead men life He is, to fick men health ; 
 To blind men fight, and to the needy wealth ; 
 A pleasure without loss, a treasure without ftealth. 
 
 Giles Fletcher. 
 
232 Miscellaneous. 
 
 T TARK ! my soul, how every thing 
 •*• -*- Strives to serve our beauteous King 
 Each a double tribute pays, 
 Sings its part, and then obeys. 
 
 Nature's chief and sweetefl: choir, 
 Him with cheerful notes admire ; 
 Chanting every day their lauds, 
 While the grove their song applauds. 
 
 Though their voices lower be, 
 Streams have too their melody ; 
 Night and day they warbling run, 
 Never pause, but ftill fing on. 
 
 All the flowers that gild the spring, 
 Hither their ftill mufic bring ; 
 If heaven bless them, thankful, they 
 Smell more sweet, and look more gay. 
 
 Only we can scarce afford, 
 This fhort office to our Lord ; 
 We, on whom his bounty flows, 
 All things gives, and nothing owes. 
 
 Wake, for fhame, my flothful heart, 
 Wake, and gladly fing thy part : 
 
Miscellaneous. 233 
 
 Learn of birds and springs and flowers, 
 How to use thy noble powers. 
 
 Call all nature to thy aid, 
 Since 'twas He all nature made ; 
 Join in one eternal song 
 Who to one God all belong. 
 
 CALM, PEACE, AND LIGHT. 
 
 THERE is a Calm the Poor in Spirit know, 
 That softens sorrow, and that sweetens woe ; 
 There is a Peace that dwells within the breafr, 
 When all without is ftormy and diftreft ; 
 There is a Light that gilds the darkeft hour, 
 When dangers thicken and when tempefts lower, 
 That calm, to faith and hope and love is given, 
 That peace remains when all befide is riven, 
 That light fhines down to man direcl: from Heaven. 
 
234 Miscellaneous. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 "O speak good of the Lord, all ye works of his, in all places of his 
 dominions." — Psalm 103 : 22. 
 
 ANSWER, with all thy pulses, throb and speak, 
 Thou tender, palpitating heart of God ! 
 Through earth, through air, and caves of ocean broad, 
 All thronged with myriad beings, ftrong or weak 
 In terror, or deep love ! Flufh on the cheek 
 Of morn, breathe sweet from evening's dewy sod ! 
 Tremble in mufic, 'mid the choral ode 
 That from the soft vale to the mountain peak 
 Whispers or thunders ! — Art Thou cold, or dead, 
 Or vengeful? — Hufh ! a holy filence reigns: 
 That our own heart, (tilling our throbbing veins, 
 And only with its own aflurance fed, 
 May be itself thy answer and abode, 
 O tender, palpitating heart of God ! 
 
 Cbauncy Hare Toivnjhend. 
 
Miscellaneous. 235 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 " All things work together for good to them that love God." — 
 Romans 8 : 28. 
 
 OH, what a load of ftruggle and diftress 
 Falls off before the Cross ! The feverifh care ; 
 The wifh that we were other than we are ; 
 The fick regrets ; the yearnings numberless ; 
 The thought, " this might have been," so apt to press 
 On the reluctant soul ; even paft despair, 
 Paft fin itself, — all — all is turned to fair 
 Ay, to a scheme of ordered happiness, 
 So soon as we love God, or rather know 
 That God loves us ! . . . Accepting the great pledge 
 Of his concern for all our wants and woe, 
 We cease to tremble upon danger's edge ; 
 While varying troubles form and burft anew, 
 Safe in a Father's arms we smile as infants do ! 
 
 Cbauncy Hare Town/hend. 
 
 <£8%3 
 
236 Miscellaneous. 
 
 SONNET. 
 « What is truth ? "—5/. Jcbn 18 : 38. 
 
 OH, how we pine for truth ! for something more 
 Than hulks of learning ! How did ancient Greece 
 Hang on the virtuous lips of Socrates, 
 Turning from words more sounding to adore 
 The wisdom that sent souls to their own ftore 
 For knowledge. So let us our hearts release ! 
 'Tis time the jargon of the schools mould cease — 
 Errors that rot Theology's deep core, 
 Lying at the base of things. Down, down muft fall 
 The glittering edifice, cemented much 
 With blood, yet baseless. At Truth's fimple touch 
 
 All the vain fabric will be mattered all ! 
 
 But not the Bible ! Nature there is ftored, 
 And God ! Eternal is the Saviour's Word ! 
 
 Chauncy Hare Townjhend. 
 
Miscellaneous. 237 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 LORD, what a change within us one fhort hour 
 Spent in thy presence will avail to make ! 
 
 What heavy burdens from our bosoms take ! 
 What parched grounds refrefh, as with a mower ! 
 We kneel, and all around us seems to lower ; 
 
 We rise, and all, the diftant and the near, 
 
 Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear ; 
 We kneel, how weak ! we rise, how full of power ! 
 Why, therefore, mould we do ourselves this wrong, 
 Or others — that we are not always ftrong — 
 That we are ever overborne with care — 
 
 That we mould ever weak or heartless be, 
 Anxious or troubled — when with us is prayer, 
 
 And joy, and ftrength, and courage are with Thee? 
 
 Trench. 
 
238 Miscellaneous. 
 
 ACCESS TO GOD EVERY WHERE. 
 
 THEY who seek the throne of grace, 
 Find that throne in every place ; 
 If we live a life of prayer, 
 God is present every where. 
 
 In our fickness or our health, 
 In our want or in our wealth, 
 If we look to God in prayer- 
 God is present every where. 
 
 When our earthly comforts fail, 
 When the foes of life prevail, 
 'Tis the time for earneft prayer j— 
 God is present every where. 
 
 Then, my soul, in every frrait 
 To thy Father come and wait ; 
 He will answer every prayer 
 God is present every where. 
 
 Ano 
 
Miscellaneous. 239 
 
 PERFECT IN LOVE. 
 
 "Whoso feareth is not made perfect in love. Perfect love cafteth 
 out fear." — 1 John 4:18. 
 
 T)ERFECT in love!" — Lord, can it be, 
 
 A Amidft this ftate of doubt and fi 
 
 m r 
 
 While foes so thick without, I see, 
 With weakness, pain, disease within : 
 Can perfect love inhabit here, 
 And ftrong in faith, extinguifh fear ? 
 
 O, Lord ! amidft this mental night, 
 
 Amidft the clouds of dark dismay, 
 Arise ! arise ! fried forth thy light, 
 And kindle love's meridian day. 
 My Saviour God to me appear, 
 So love fhall triumph over fear. 
 
240 Miscellaneous. 
 
 THE CHILDREN'S DESIRE. 
 
 I THINK when I read the sweet ftory of old, 
 How when Jesus was here among men, 
 He once called little children as lambs to his fold — 
 
 I mould like to have been with them then. 
 I with that his hands had been placed on my head 
 
 That his arms had been thrown around me ; 
 And that I might have seen his kind look, when He said, 
 " Let the little ones come unto me." 
 
 Yet ftill to his footftool in faith I may go, 
 
 And there afk for a fhare of his love ; 
 And I know if I earneftly seek Him below, 
 
 I fhall see Him and hear Him above — 
 In that beautiful place, He is gone to prepare, 
 
 For all those who are warned and forgiven ; 
 And many dear children are gathering there, 
 
 " For of such is the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 241 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 IT is not life upon thy gifts to live, 
 But, to grow fixed with deeper roots in Thee ; 
 And when the sun and fhower their bounties give, 
 To send out thick-leaved limbs ; a fruitful tree, 
 Whose green head meets the eye for many a mile, 
 Whose moff-grown arms their rigid branches rear, 
 And full-faced fruits their blufhing welcome smile 
 As to its goodly fhade our feet draw near ; 
 Who taftes its gifts mall never hunger more, 
 For tis the Father spreads the pure repaft, 
 Who, while we eat, renews the ready ftore, 
 Which at his bounteous board muft ever laft ; 
 For none the bridegroom's supper (hall attend, 
 Who will not hear and make his word their friend. 
 
 Jones Very. 
 
242 Miscellaneous. 
 
 FOR DIVINE STRENGTH. 
 
 FATHER, in thy myfterious presence kneeling, 
 Fain would our souls feel all thy kindling love, 
 For we are weak, and need some deep revealing 
 Of Truft, and Strength, and Calmness, from above. 
 
 Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow, 
 And Thou haft made each ftep an onward one ; 
 
 And we will ever truft each unknown morrow, — 
 Thou wilt suftain us till its work is done. 
 
 In the heart's depths, a peace serene and holy 
 Abides, and when pain seems to have her will, 
 
 Or we despair, — O may that peace rise flowly, 
 Stronger than agony, and we be ftill. 
 
 Now, Father, now, in thy dear presence kneeling, 
 Our spirits yearn to feel thy kindling love : 
 
 Now make us ftrong, we need thy deep revealing 
 Of Truft, and Strength, and Calmness, from above. 
 
 S. Johnson. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 243 
 
 THE CONFLICT OF LIFE. 
 
 ONWARD, Chriftian, though the region 
 Where thou art be drear and lone : 
 God hath set a guardian legion 
 Very near thee, — press thou on ! 
 
 Liften, Chriftian, their Hosanna 
 
 Rolleth o'er thee, — " God is Love.' 
 
 Write upon thy red-cross banner, 
 " Upward ever, — heaven's above." 
 
 By the thorn-road, and none other, 
 Is the mount of vifion won ; 
 
 Tread it without fhrinking, brother! 
 Jesus trod it, — press thou on ! 
 
 By thy truftful, calm endeavor, 
 Guiding, cheering, like the sun, 
 
 Earth-bound hearts thou fhalt deliver 
 O, for their sake, press thou on ! 
 
 Be this world the wiser, ftronger, 
 For thy life of pain and peace ; 
 
 While it needs thee, O no longer 
 Pray thou for thy quick release ; 
 
244 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Pray thou, Chriftian, daily, rather, 
 
 That thou be a faithful son ; 
 By the prayer of Jesus, — " Father, 
 
 Not my will, but thine, be done ! " 
 
 S. Johnson. 
 
 SPIRITUAL NEEDS. 
 
 I WANT the spirit of power within, 
 Of love, and of a healthful mind : 
 Of power to conquer every fin, 
 Of love to God and all mankind ; 
 Of health that pain and death defies, 
 Moft vigorous when the body dies. 
 
 O, that the Comforter would come, 
 Nor vifit as a tranfient gueft, 
 But fix in me his conftant home, 
 And keep poffeffion of my breaft ; 
 And make my soul his loved abode, 
 The temple of indwelling God ! 
 
 C. Wesley. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 245 
 
 JESUS, the only thought of thee 
 With sweetness fills my breaft, 
 But sweeter far it is to see, 
 And on thy beauty feaft. 
 No sound, no harmony so gay, 
 
 Can art of mufic frame, 
 No thought can reach, no words can say 
 The sweets of thy blefl: name. 
 
 Jesus, our hope when we repent, 
 
 Sweet source of all our grace ; 
 Sole comfort in our banifhment 
 
 O what when face to face ! 
 Jesus ! that name inspires my mind 
 
 With springs of life and light ; 
 More than I afk in thee I find, 
 
 And languifh in delight. 
 
 No art nor eloquence of man 
 
 Can tell the joys of love j 
 Spirits alone can underftand 
 
 What they in Jesus prove. 
 Thee then I'll seek, retired apart, 
 
 From world and bufiness free 
 When these fhall knock, I'll fhut my heart, 
 
 And keep it all for thee. 
 
246 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Before the morning light I'll come, 
 
 With Magdalen, to find, 
 In fighs and tears, my Jesus' tomb, 
 
 And there refrefli my mind. 
 My tears upon his grave (hall flow, 
 
 My fighs the garden fill, 
 Then at his feet myself I'll throw, 
 
 And there I'll seek his will. 
 
 OTHOU whose wise paternal Love 
 Hath caft my active vigor down, 
 Thy choice I thankfully approve, 
 
 And proftrate at thy gracious throne 
 I offer up my life's remains, 
 
 I choose the ftate my God ordains. 
 
 Caft as a broken vefTel by, 
 
 Thy will I can no longer do, 
 But while a daily death I die, 
 
 Thy power I can in weakness fhow 
 My patience fhall thy glory raise 
 
 My ftedfaft woe proclaim thy praise. 
 
 Wtsley. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 247 
 
 ADORATION. 
 
 I LOVE my God, but with no love of mine, 
 For I have none to give ; 
 I love thee, Lord ; but all the love is thine, 
 
 For by thy life I live. 
 I am as nothing, and rejoice to be 
 Emptied, and loft, and swallowed up in thee. 
 
 Thou, Lord, alone, art all thy children need, 
 
 And there is none befide ; 
 From Thee the ftreams of bleffedness proceed, 
 
 In Thee the bleft abide, — 
 Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace, 
 Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place. 
 
 Madame Guyon. 
 
 FRIEND SORROW. 
 
 DO not cheat thy heart, and tell her 
 " Grief will pass away — 
 " Hope for fairer times in future, 
 "And forget to-day." 
 
248 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Tell her, if you will, that Sorrow 
 
 Need not come in vain — 
 Tell her, that the leflbn taught her 
 
 Far outweighs the pain. 
 
 Cheat her not with the old comfort 
 
 " Soon fhe will forget." 
 Bitter truth, alas ! but matter 
 
 Rather for regret. 
 Bid her not seek other pleasures, 
 
 Turn to other things. 
 Rather, nurse her caged Sorrow 
 
 Till the captive fings. 
 
 Rather bid her go forth bravely, 
 
 And the ftranger greet ; 
 Not as foe, with fhield and buckler, 
 
 But as dear friends meet. 
 Bid her with a ftrong clasp hold her 
 
 By the duflcy wings : 
 And fhe'll whisper low and gently, 
 
 Bleflings that me brings. 
 
 Household Words. 
 
Miscellaneous. 249 
 
 LABOR AND REST. 
 
 Two hands upon the bread, and labor is part." — Russian Proverb. 
 
 " >T~^WO hands upon the breaft, 
 
 J- And labor's done : 
 Two pale feet crofted in reft — 
 
 The race is won : 
 Two eyes with coin-weights fhut, 
 
 And all tears cease : 
 Two lips where grief is mute 
 And wrath at peace." 
 So pray we oftentimes, mourning our lot ; 
 God in his kindness answereth not. 
 
 " Two hands to work addreft 
 
 Aye for his praise : 
 Two feet that never reft 
 
 Walking his ways : 
 Two eyes that look above 
 Still, through all tears : 
 Two lips that breathe but love, 
 Nevermore fears." 
 So cry we afterwards, low at our knees : 
 Pardon those erring prayers ! Father, hear these ! 
 
250 Miscellaneous. 
 
 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 EARTH, with her ten thousand flowers, 
 Air, with all its beams and fhowers, 
 All around, and all above, 
 Hath this record, " God is love." 
 
 Sounds among the vales and hills, 
 In the woods, and by the rills, 
 All these songs, beneath, above, 
 Have one burthen, " God is love." 
 
 All the charities that ftart 
 From the fountains of the heart, 
 These are voices from above, 
 Sweetly whispering, "God is love." 
 
 Earth with her ten thousand flowers, 
 Air, with all its beams and fhowers, 
 All are voices from above, 
 Loudly sounding, " God is love." 
 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 25 
 
 COULD'ST THOU NOT WATCH ONE HOUR? 
 
 THY night is dark — behold the fhade was deeper 
 In the old garden of Gethsemane, 
 When that calm voice awoke the weary fleeper, 
 
 — Could'ft thou not watch one hour alone with me ? 
 
 O, thou so weary of thy self-denials, 
 
 And so impatient of thy little cross, 
 Is it so hard to bear thy daily trials, 
 
 To count all earthly things a gainful loss ? 
 
 What if thou always suffer tribulation, 
 
 And if thy Chriftian warfare never cease ; 
 
 The gaining of the quiet habitation, 
 Shall gather thee to everlafting peace. 
 
 But here we all muft suffer, walking lonely 
 The path that Jesus once himself hath gone ; 
 
 Watch thou in patience through this hour only, 
 This one dark hour before the eternal dawn. 
 
 The captive's oar may pause upon the galley, 
 The soldier fleep beneath his plumed creft, 
 
 And peace may fold her wing o'er hill and valley, 
 But thou, O Chriftian, muft not take thy reft. 
 
252 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Thou muft walk on, however man upbraid thee, 
 With Him who trod the wine-press all alone ; 
 
 Thou wilt not find one human hand to aid thee, 
 One human soul, to comprehend thine own. 
 
 Heed not the images forever thronging 
 
 From out the foregone life thou liveft no more, 
 
 Faint-hearted mariner, ftill art thou longing 
 For the dim line of the receding fhore. 
 
 Wilt thou find reft of soul in thy returning 
 To that old path thou haft so vainly trod ? 
 
 Haft thou forgotten all thy weary yearning 
 To walk among the children of thy God ? 
 
 Faithful and fteadfaft in their consecration, 
 Living by that high faith to thee so dim, 
 
 Declaring before God their dedication, 
 
 So far from thee, because so near to him. 
 
 Can'ft thou forget thy Chriftian superscription — 
 "Behold we count them happy which endure?" 
 
 What treasure would'ft thou in the land Egyptian, 
 Repass the ftormy water to secure ? 
 
 And wilt 
 
 thou yield thy 
 
 sure 
 
 and 
 
 glorious 
 
 promise 
 
 For the 
 
 ! poor fleeting 
 
 joys 
 
 earth 
 
 can 
 
 afford ? 
 
 No hand 
 
 can take away 
 
 the 
 
 treasure from 
 
 us 
 
 That refts within the 
 
 keeping of the 
 
 Lord. 
 
Miscellaneous. 
 
 253 
 
 Poor wandering soul — I know that thou art seeking 
 Some eafier way, as all have sought before 
 
 To filence the reproachful inward speaking — 
 Some landward path unto an ifland more ! 
 
 The cross is heavy in thy human measure, 
 The way too narrow for thine inward pride, 
 
 Thou can'fl: not lay thine intellectual treasure 
 At the low footftool of the Crucified. 
 
 O, that thy faithless soul, one hour only 
 
 Would comprehend the Chriftian's perfect life, 
 
 Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely, 
 Yet calmly looking upward in its ftrife. 
 
 For poverty and self-renunciation, 
 
 Their Father yieldeth back a thousand fold ; 
 In the calm ftillness of regeneration, 
 
 Cometh a joy they never knew of old. 
 
 In meek obedience to the heavenly Teacher, 
 Thy weary soul can only find its peace, 
 
 Seeking no aid from any human creature ; 
 Looking to God alone for his release. 
 
 And He will come in his own time and power, 
 To set his earneft-hearted children free ; 
 
 Watch only through this dark and painful hour 
 And the bright morning yet will break for thee. 
 
254 
 
 Miscellaneous. 
 
 THE SACRIFICE. 
 
 OALL ye who pass by, whose eyes and mind 
 To worldly things are fharp, but to me blind,- 
 To me, who took eyes that I might you find ; — 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 Mine own apoftle, who the bag did bear, 
 Though he had all I had, did not forbear 
 To sell me also, and to put me there. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 Judas, doft thou betray me with a kiss ? 
 Can'ft thou find hell about my lips, and miss 
 Of life, juit at the gates of life and bliss ? 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 See, they lay hold on me ; not with the hands 
 Of faith, but fury. Yet, at their commands, 
 I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 All my disciples flee ; fear put a bar 
 Betwixt my friends and me. They leave that Star 
 That brought wise men out of the Eaft from far. 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
Miscellaneous. 255 
 
 Ah ! how they scourge me ! yet my tenderness 
 Doubles each lafh. And yet, their bitterness 
 Winds up my grief to a myfteriousness. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 Then on my head a crown of thorns I wear ; 
 For these are all the grapes Zion doth bear, 
 Though I my vine planted and watered there. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 So fits the earth's great curse, in Adam's fall, 
 Upon my head ; so I remove it all 
 From th' earth unto my brows, and bear the thrall. 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 The soldiers also spit upon that face 
 Which angels did defire to have the grace, 
 And prophets, once, to see, but found no place. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 But, O my God! my God! why leaveft thou me, 
 Thy Son, in whom thou doft delight to be ? 
 
 My God ! My God ! 
 
 Never was grief like mine ! 
 
 Shame tears my soul, my body many a wound j — 
 Sharp nails pierce this, but (harper that confound ; 
 Reproaches, which are free while I am bound. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
256 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Now heal thy self \ Physician ! now come down ! 
 
 Alas ! I did so, when I left my crown, 
 
 And Father's smile, for you to feel his frown. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 Betwixt two thieves I spend my utmoft breath, 
 
 As he that for some robbery suffereth. 
 
 Alas ! what have I ftolen from you ? Death. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 They gave me vinegar mingled with gall, — 
 
 But more with malice. Yet, when they did call, 
 
 With manna, angels' food, I fed them all. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 Nay, after death, their spite (hall further go ; 
 
 For they will pierce my side, I full well know j — 
 
 That, as fin came, so sacraments might flow. 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 But now I die. Now all is finifhed — 
 
 My woe, man's weal : and now I bow my head. 
 
 Only let others say, when I am dead, 
 
 Never was grief like mine ! 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
Miscellaneous. 257 
 
 THE CHARMER. 
 
 " ^IT/'E need some Charmer, for our hearts are sore 
 
 » » With longings for the things that may not be — 
 Faint for the friends that fhall return no more 
 Dark with diftruft, or wrung with agony. 
 
 " What is this life ? And what to us is Death ? 
 
 Whence came we ? whither go ? And where are those 
 Who in a moment ftricken from our fide 
 
 PafTed to that land of fhadow and repose. 
 
 " Are they all duft ? and duft muft we become ? 
 
 Or are they living in some unknown clime ? 
 Shall we regain them in that far-off home, 
 
 And live anew beyond the waves of time ? 
 
 " Oh man divine ! — on thee our souls have hung, 
 Thou wert our teacher in these queftions high ; 
 
 But ah ! this day divides thee from our fide, 
 And veils in duft thy kindly guiding eye." 
 
 So spake the youth of Athens, weeping round 
 When Socrates lay calmly down to die — 
 
 So spake the Sage, prophetic of the hour 
 
 When Earth's fair Morning Star mould rise on high. 
 
258 Miscellaneous. 
 
 They found him not, those youths of soul divine 
 Long seeking, wandering, watching on life's fhore : 
 
 Reasoning, aspiring, yearning for the light, 
 
 Death came and found them — doubting as before. 
 
 But years patted on — and lo ! the Charmer came 
 Pure, filent, sweet as comes the filver dew — 
 
 And the world knew him not — he walked alone 
 Encircled only by his trufting few. 
 
 Like the Athenian Sage — rejected, scorned, 
 
 Betrayed, condemned, his day of doom drew nigh, 
 
 He drew his faithful few more closely round, 
 And told them that His hour was come to die. 
 
 " Let not your heart be troubled," then He said : 
 My Father's house has manfions large and fair ; 
 
 I go before you to prepare your place ; 
 
 I will return to take you with me there. — 
 
 And fince that hour the awful foe is charmed, 
 
 And life and death are glorified and fair : 
 Whither He went we know — the way we know, 
 And with firm ftep press on to meet Him there. 
 
 H. B. Stowe. 
 
Mhcella 
 
 259 
 
 THE CALM OF THE SOUL. 
 
 WHEN winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, 
 And billows wild contend with angry roar, 
 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, 
 That peaceful ftillness reigneth, evermore. 
 
 Far, far beneath, the noise of tempefts dieth, 
 And filver waves chime ever peacefully, 
 
 And no rude frorm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, 
 Difturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea. 
 
 So to the heart that knows thy love, O Pureft ! 
 
 There is a temple, sacred evermore, 
 And all the babble of life's angry voices, 
 
 Dies in hufhed ftillness, at its peaceful door. 
 
 Far, far away, the roar of paflion dieth, 
 
 And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully, 
 
 And no rude ftorm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, 
 Difturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in thee. 
 
 O reft of refts ! O peace, serene, eternal ! 
 
 Thou ever liveft, and thou changeft never ; 
 And in the secret of thy presence dwelleth 
 
 Fulness of joy, forever and forever. 
 
 H. B. Stowe. 
 
260 Miscellaneous. 
 
 WHEN I AWAKE I AM STILL WITH THEE. 
 
 STILL, ftill with Thee — when purple morning breaketh, 
 When the bird waketh, and the fhadows flee ; 
 Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, 
 Dawns the sweet consciousness, / am with Thee. 
 
 Alone with Thee — amid the myftic fhadows, 
 The solemn hum of nature newly born ; 
 
 Alone with Thee in breathless adoration, 
 
 In the calm dew and frefhness of the morn. 
 
 As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean, 
 The image of the morning ftar doth reft, 
 
 So in this ftillness, Thou beholdeft only 
 Thine image in the waters of my breaft. 
 
 Still, ftill with Thee ! as to each new-born morning 
 A frefh and solemn splendor ftill is given, 
 
 So doth this blefled consciousness awaking, 
 
 Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and Heaven. 
 
 When finks the soul, subdued by toil, to flumber, 
 Its clofing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; 
 
 Sweet the repose beneath thy wings o'erfhading 
 But sweeter ftill, to wake and find Thee there. 
 
Miscellaneous. 26 1 
 
 So fhall it be at laft, in that bright morning, 
 When the soul walceth, and life's fhadows flee ; 
 
 Oh ! in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, 
 Shall rise the glorious thought, / am with Thee ! 
 
 H. B. Stowe. 
 
 ORDINATION HYMN. 
 
 CHRIST to the young man said : " Yet one thing more 
 If thou would'ft perfect be, 
 Sell all thou haft and give it to the poor, 
 And come and follow me ! " 
 
 Within this temple Chrift again, unseen, 
 
 Those sacred words hath said, 
 And his invifible hands to-day have been 
 
 Laid on a young man's head. 
 
 And evermore befide him on his way 
 
 The unseen Chrift fhall move, 
 That he may lean upon his arm and say, 
 
 " Doft thou, dear Lord, approve ? " 
 
 Befide him at the marriage feaft fhall be, 
 
 To make the scene more fair ; 
 Befide him in the dark Gethsemane 
 
 Of pain and midnight prayer. 
 
262 Miscellaneous. 
 
 O holy truft ! O endless sense of reft ! 
 
 Like the beloved John 
 To lay his head upon the Saviour's breaft, 
 
 And thus to journey on ! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 
 HYMN FOR LENT. 
 
 OWEEP for them who never knew 
 The mother of our love, 
 And fhed thy tears for orphan ones, 
 
 Whom angels mourn above ; 
 The wandering fheep — the ftraying lambs, 
 
 When wolves were on the wold, 
 That left our Shepherd's little flock, 
 And ventured from his fold. 
 
 Nay, blame them not ! for them, the Lord 
 
 Hath loved as well as you : 
 But O, like Jesus, pray for them 
 
 Who know not what they do : 
 O plead as once the Saviour did, 
 
 That we may all be one, 
 That so the cruel world may know 
 
 The Father sent the Son. 
 
Miscellaneous. 263 
 
 O let thy Lenten litanies 
 
 Be full of prayer for them ! 
 O go ye to the scattered fheep 
 
 Of Israel's parent ftem ! 
 O keep thy faft for Chriftendom ! 
 
 For Christ's dear body mourn ; 
 And weave again the seamless robe, 
 
 That faithless friends have torn. 
 
 Ye love your dear home-feftivals, 
 
 With every month entwined ; 
 O weep for them whose sullen hearths 
 
 No Chriftmas garlands bind ! 
 Those Iceland regions of the faith 
 
 No changing seasons cheer, 
 While our sweet paths drop fruitfulness, 
 
 Through all the joyous year. 
 
 What though some borealis-beams 
 
 On even them may flare ; 
 Pray God the sunlight of his love 
 
 May rise serenely there ! 
 For flafhy gleams, O plead the Lord 
 
 To give his daily ray ! 
 With heavenly light at morn and eve 
 
 To thaw their wintry way. 
 
 O weep for those, on whom the Lord 
 While here below did weep, 
 
264 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Left grievous wolves mould enter in, 
 
 Not sparing of his fheep ; 
 And eat thy bitter herbs awhile, 
 
 That when our Feaft is spread, 
 These too — that gather up the crumbs, 
 
 May eat the children's bread. 
 
 A. C. Coxe. 
 
 •.»©»«- 
 
 THE BLESSING AFTER SERVICE. 
 
 THE peace which God beftows, 
 Through him who died and rose, 
 The peace the Father giveth through the Son, 
 Be known in every mind, 
 The broken heart to bind, 
 And bless each traveller as he journeys on. 
 
 Ye who have known to weep, 
 
 Where your beloved fleep, 
 Ye who have raised the deep, the bitter cry, 
 
 God's blefling be as balm, 
 
 The fevered soul to calm, 
 And wondrous peace the troubled mind supply. 
 
 
 Young man, whose cheek is bright 
 With nature's warmed light, 
 
Miscellaneous. 265 
 
 While youth and health thy veins with rapture swell 
 
 Let the remembrance be 
 
 Of thy God bleft to thee, 
 Peace pafling underftanding guard thee well. 
 
 Parents, whose thoughts afar, 
 
 Turn where your children are, 
 In their ftill graves, or beneath foreign fkies, — 
 
 This hour, God's bleffing come 
 
 Cheer the deserted home, 
 And peace, with dove-like wings, around you rise. 
 
 Ere this week's ftrife begin, 
 
 The war without, within, 
 The God of Love, with spirit and with power, 
 
 Now on each bended head, 
 
 His wondrous blefling fhed, 
 And keep you all through every troubled hour. 
 
266 
 
 Miscellaneous. 
 
 
 STRENGTH. 
 
 
 (To an Invalid.) 
 
 The 
 
 " W/ HEN l am weak ' Pm ftron S'" 
 * » The great Apoftle cried. 
 
 ftrength that did not to the earth belong, 
 
 The might of Heaven supplied. 
 
 
 " When I am weak, I'm ftrong," 
 Blind Milton caught that ftrain, 
 
 And 
 
 flung its victory o'er the ills that throng 
 
 
 Round Age, and Want, and Pain. 
 
 
 " When I am weak, I'm ftrong," 
 
 Each Chriftian heart repeats ; 
 These words will tune its feebleft breath to song, 
 
 
 And fire its languid beats. 
 
 
 O Holy Strength ! whose ground 
 Is in the heavenly land ; 
 
 And 
 
 whose supporting help alone is found 
 
 
 In God's immortal hand ! 
 
Miscellaneous. 267 
 
 O blefled ! that appears 
 When flefhly aids are spent ; 
 And girds the mind, when mod it faints and fears, 
 With truft and sweet content. 
 
 It bids us caft afide 
 All thoughts of lefler powers ; — 
 Give up all hopes from changing time and tide, 
 And all vain will of ours. 
 
 We have but to confess 
 That there's but one retreat : 
 And meekly lay each need and each diftress 
 Down at the Sovereign feet ; — 
 
 Then, then, it fills the place 
 Of all we hoped to do ; 
 And sunken Nature triumphs in the Grace, 
 That bears us up and through. 
 
 A better glow than health 
 Flumes the cheek and brow, 
 The heart is stout with store of nameless wealth : — 
 We can do all things now. 
 
 No less sufficience seek ; 
 All counsel less is wrong ; 
 The whole world's force is poor, and mean, and weak ; — 
 " When I am weak, I'm strong." 
 
 N. L. Frothingham. 
 
268 Miscellaneous. 
 
 CALL TO THE PRODIGAL. 
 
 RETURN, O wanderer, return, 
 And seek thy Father's face ; 
 Those new defires that in thee burn, 
 Were kindled by his grace. 
 
 Return, O wanderer, return, 
 
 Thy Saviour bids thee live ; 
 Go to his bleeding feet and learn 
 
 How Jesus can forgive. 
 
 Return, O wanderer, return, 
 
 And wipe away the tear ; 
 'Tis God who says, "No longer mourn,' 
 
 Mercy invites thee near. 
 
 Collyer. 
 
Miscellaneous. 269 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF CHASTISEMENT. 
 " We glory also in tribulations." — Romans 5 : 3. 
 
 WITHIN this leaf, to every eye 
 So little worth, doth hidden lie 
 Moft rare and subtile fragrancy : 
 
 Would'st thou its secret ftrength unbind ? 
 Crufh it, and thou fhalt perfume find, 
 Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind. 
 
 In this dull ftone, so poor, and bare 
 Of fhape or luftre, patient care 
 Will find for thee a jewel rare. 
 
 But firft muft fkilful hands elTay, 
 With file and flint, to clear away 
 The film, which hides its fire from day. 
 
 This leaf? this ftone? It is thy heart: 
 It muft be cruftied by pain and smart, 
 It muft be cleansed by sorrow's art — 
 
270 Miscellaneous. 
 
 Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
 Ere it will mine, a jewel meet 
 To lay before thy dear Lord's feet. 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 SINCE all the coming scenes of time 
 God's watchful eye surveys, 
 O who so wise to choose our lot, 
 And regulate our ways ? 
 
 Since none can doubt his equal love, 
 
 Immeasurably kind, 
 To his unerring gracious will, 
 
 Be every wifh refigned. 
 
 Good when He gives, supremely good, 
 
 Nor less when He denies ; 
 E'en crofTes from his sovereign hand, 
 
 Are blefllngs in disguise. 
 
 Hervey. 
 
 *-&?-> 
 
Miscellaneous. 2 7 : 
 
 J 
 
 "MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND." 
 Psalm 31 : 15. 
 
 " 1\/T^ t ' mes are m tn y hand," 
 ■i-»-i. My God, I'd have them there 
 
 My life, my friends, my soul, I leave 
 Entirely to thy care. 
 
 " My times are in thy hand," 
 
 Whatever they may be ; 
 Pleafing or painful, dark or bright, 
 
 As bed may seem to Thee. 
 
 " My times are in thy hand," 
 Why mould I doubt or fear ? 
 
 My Father's hand will never cause 
 His child a needless tear. 
 
 " My times are in thy hand," 
 
 I'll always truft in Thee : 
 And after death, at thy right hand 
 
 I fhall for ever be. 
 
272 Miscellaneous. 
 
 HE LEADS HIS OWN. 
 
 " I will lead them in the paths they have not known." 
 
 Isaiah 42 : 16. 
 
 HOW few who, from their youthful day, 
 Look on to what their life may be ; 
 Painting the vifions of the way 
 
 In colors soft, and bright, and free. 
 How few who to such paths have brought 
 The hopes and dreams of early thought ! 
 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 The eager hearts, the souls of fire, 
 
 Who pant to toil for God and man ; 
 And view with eyes of keen defire 
 
 The upland way of toil and pain ; 
 Almoft with scorn they think of reft, 
 Of holy calm, of tranquil breaft, 
 
 But God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 A lowlier tafk on them is laid, — 
 With love to make the labor light ; 
 
Miscellaneous . 273 
 
 And there their beauty they muft fried 
 
 On quiet homes and loft to fight. 
 Changed are their vifions high and fair, 
 Yet calm, and ftill, they labor there ; 
 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 The gentle heart that thinks with pain, 
 
 It scarce can lowlieft tafks fulfil ; 
 And, if it dared its life to scan, 
 
 Would afk but pathway low and ftill. 
 Often such lowly heart is brought 
 To aft with power beyond its thought ; 
 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 And they, the bright, who long to prove, 
 
 In joyous path, in cloudless lot, 
 How frefh from earth their grateful love 
 
 Can spring without a ftain or spot, — 
 Often such youthful heart is given 
 The path of grief, to walk in Heaven ; 
 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 What matter what the path fhall be ? 
 
 The end is clear and bright to view ; 
 We know that we a ftrength fhall see, 
 
 Whate'er the day may bring to do, 
 
274 Miscellaneous. 
 
 We see the end, the house of God, 
 But not the path to that abode ; 
 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead his own. 
 
 CORRECTION NEEDED. 
 
 " Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punish- 
 ment of his fins ? " — Lamentations 3 : 39. 
 
 WISH not, dear friends, my pain away ; 
 Wiih me a wise and thankful heart, 
 With God, in all my griefs, to ftay, 
 Nor from his loved correction ftart. 
 
 The deareft offering He can crave, 
 His portion in our souls to prove, 
 What is it to the gift He gave, 
 The only Son of his dear love ? 
 
 In life's long fickness, evermore 
 Our thoughts are tofling to and fro : 
 We change our pofture o'er and o'er, 
 But cannot reft, nor cheat our woe. 
 
Miscellaneous. 275 
 
 Were it not better to lie ftill, 
 Let Him ftrike home, and bless the rod? 
 Never so safe as when our will 
 Yields, undiscerned by 
 
 DETAINED FROM THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 " For I had gone with the multitude ; I went with them to the 
 house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that 
 kept holy day." — Psalm 42 : 4. 
 
 SWEET Sabbath bells ! I love your voice, — 
 You call me to the house of prayer ; 
 Oft have you made my heart rejoice, 
 When I have gone to worfhip there. 
 
 But now, a prisoner of the Lord, 
 
 His hand forbids, I cannot go ; 
 Yet may I here his love record, 
 
 And here the sweets of worfhip know. 
 
 Each place alike is holy ground, 
 
 Where prayer from humble souls is poured ; 
 Where praise awakes its filver sound, 
 
 Or God is filently adored. 
 
276 Miscellaneous. 
 
 His san&uary is the heart, — 
 
 There, with the contrite, will he reft 
 Lord, come, a Sabbath frame impart, 
 
 And make thy temple in my breaft. 
 
 CLINGING TO JESUS. 
 
 " Seeing then we have a great high priest that is passed into the 
 heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession." 
 
 Heb. 4 : 14. 
 
 HOLY Saviour, friend unseen, 
 Since on thy arm thou bid'ft me lean, 
 Help me throughout life's varying scene, 
 
 By faith to cling to thee ! 
 
 Bleft with this fellowfhip divine, 
 
 Take what thou wilt, I'll ne'er repine ; 
 
 E'en as the branches to the vine, 
 
 My soul would cling to thee ! 
 
 Far from her home, fatigued, oppreft, 
 Here fhe has found her place of reft ; 
 An exile ftill, yet not unbleft, 
 
 While (he can cling to thee ! 
 
Miscellan eous. 277 
 
 Oft, when I seem to tread alone 
 
 Some barren wafte with thorns o'ergrown, 
 
 Thy voice of love, in tendereft tone, 
 
 Whispers, " ftill cling to me! 
 
 Though faith and hope may oft be tried, 
 I afk not, need not, aught befide ; 
 How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
 
 The soul that clings to thee ! 
 
 Bleft is my lot, whate'er befall ; 
 What can difturb me, what appall, 
 Whilft as my rock, my ftrength, my all, 
 
 Saviour ! I cling to thee ? 
 
 COMMITTING THE SOUL TO THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 " Into thy hand I commit my spirit ; thou hast redeemed me, O 
 Lord God of truth." — Psalm 31:5. 
 
 MY spirit on thy care, 
 Bleft Saviour, I recline ; 
 Thou wilt not leave me to despair, 
 For thou art love divine. 
 
278 Miscellaneous. 
 
 In thee I place my truft, 
 
 On thee I calmly reft ; 
 I know thee good, — I know thee juft, 
 
 And count thy choice the best. 
 
 Whate'er events betide, 
 
 Thy will they all perform ; 
 
 Safe in thy breaft my head I hide 
 Nor fear the coming ftorm. 
 
 Let good or ill befall, 
 
 It muft be good for me ; 
 
 Secure of having thee in all, 
 Of having all in thee. 
 
 LORD, I BELIEVE. 
 
 " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief." — Mark 9 : 24. 
 
 ES, I do feel, my God, that I am thine ; 
 Thou art my joy — myself, mine only grief; 
 Hear my complaint, low bending at thy fhrine, — 
 " Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 Y 
 
Miscellaneous. 279 
 
 Unworthy, even, to approach so near, 
 
 My soul lies trembling like a summer's leaf; 
 
 Yet, O forgive ! I doubt not, though I fear, — 
 " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 True, I am weak, ah, very weak ; but then 
 I know the source whence I can draw relief; 
 
 And, though repulsed, I frill can plead again, — 
 " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 O, draw me nearer ; for, too far away, — 
 
 The beamings of thy brightness are too brief; 
 
 While faith, though fainting, ftill have ftrength to pray, — 
 " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 DOWN the dark future, through long generations, 
 The sounds of war grow fainter, and then cease 
 And like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations, 
 
 I hear once more the voice of Chrift say, " Peace ! 
 
 Peace ! and no longer, from its brazen portals 
 The blaft of war's great organ makes the ikies ; 
 
 But beautiful as songs of the immortals, 
 The holy melodies of love arise. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
280 Miscellaneous. 
 
 CHRIST UNCHANGING. 
 
 ; Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." 
 
 Eeb. 13: S. 
 
 CHANGE is written everywhere, 
 Time and death o'er all are ranging ; 
 Seasons, creatures, all declare, 
 
 Man is mortal, earth is changing. 
 
 Life, and all its treasures, seem 
 
 Like a sea in conftant motion j 
 Thanks for an eternal beam 
 
 Shining o'er the pathless ocean. 
 
 One by one, although each name 
 
 Providence or death will sever ; 
 Jesus Chrift is frill the same, 
 
 Yefterday, to-day, forever. 
 
 <&fcs> 
 
Miscellaneous. 28: 
 
 "I SHALL BE SATISFIED." 
 
 NOT here ! — not here ! Not where the sparkling waters 
 Fade into mocking sands as we draw near : 
 Where in the wilderness each footftep falters — 
 " I fhall be satisfied ; " but, O ! not here ! 
 
 Not here — all the dreams of bliss deceive us, 
 Where the worn spirit never gains its goal ; 
 
 Where, haunted ever by the thought that grieves us, 
 Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 
 
 There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
 With rapture earth's sojourners may not know, 
 
 Where heaven's repose the weary heart is ftilling, 
 And peacefully life's time-toffed currents flow. 
 
 Far out of fight, while yet the flefh infolds us, 
 Lies the fair country where our hearts abide, 
 
 And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us 
 Than these few words — " I fhall be satisfied." 
 
 Satisfied ! Satisfied ! The spirit's yearning 
 
 For sweet companionihip with kindred minds — 
 
 The filent love that here meets no returning — 
 The inspiration which no language finds — 
 
282 Miscella neous. 
 
 Shall they be satisfied ? The soul's vague longing — 
 The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 
 
 O ! what defires upon my soul are thronging 
 As I look upward to the heavenly hills. 
 
 Thither my weak and weary fteps are tending — 
 Saviour and Lord! with thy frail child abide! 
 
 Guide me toward Home, where all my wandering ending, 
 I then fhall see thee, and "Jhall be satisfied." 
 
 FROM "THE CHERUBIC PILGRIM,' 
 
 « /^OD'I 
 VJ If I 
 
 The Dew and the Rose. 
 OD'S spirit falls on me as dew-drops on a rose, 
 but like a rose to him my heart unclose. 
 
 The Tabernacle. 
 The soul wherein God dwells — what church can holier 
 
 be?— 
 Becomes a walking tent of heavenly majefty. 
 
 The Difference. 
 Ye know God but as Lord, hence Lord his name with ye, 
 I feel him but as Love, and Love his name with mc. 
 
Miscellaneous. 283 
 
 1 
 
 Chrijl must be Born in Thee. 
 Though Chrift a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, 
 If He's not born in thee, thy soul is ftill forlorn. 
 
 The Outward Profiteth Not. 
 The cross on Golgotha will never save thy soul, 
 The cross in thine heart alone can make thee whole. 
 
 The only Want's in Thee. 
 Ah, would thy heart but be a manger for the birth, 
 God would once more become a child upon the earth. 
 
 The Seasons of the Day. 
 In Heaven is the day, in Hell below, the night ; 
 'Tis twilight here on Earth : confider this aright ! 
 
 The loveliest Tone. 
 In all Eternity, no tone can be so sweet 
 As where man's heart with God in unison doth beat. 
 
 Magnet and Steel. 
 God is a magnet ftrong ; my heart, it is the flee], 
 'Twill always turn to Him, if once his touch it feel. 
 
 Love's Transubstantiation. 
 Whate'er thou loveft, man, that too become thou muft : 
 God — if thou loveft God ; Duft — if thou loveft duft. 
 
284 Miscellaneous. 
 
 The Well is Deep. 
 Why fhould'ft thou cry for drink ? The fountain is in thee, 
 Which so thou ftopp'ft it not, will flow eternally. 
 
 John 4 : 11. 
 
 To Theologians. 
 Within this span of time, God's name ye will unfold, 
 Which in eternities can never quite be told. 
 
 Blejfedness. 
 The soul that's truly bleft, knows not of selfifhness ; 
 She is one light with God, with God one Blefledness. 
 
 Old and Young. 
 Thou smileft at the child that cryeth for his toys, 
 Are they less toys, old man, that cause thy griefs and joys ? 
 
 It is Here. 
 Why travel over seas to find what is so near ? 
 Love is the only good ; love and be blefTed here. 
 
 Spiritual Sun and Moon. 
 Be Jesus thou my Sun, and let me be thy moon, 
 Then will my darkefr. night be changed to brighteft noon. 
 
 The Spiritual Mount. 
 I am a mount in God, and muft myself ascend, 
 Shall God, to speak to me, upon my top descend. 
 
Miscellaneous. 285 
 
 Life in Death. 
 In God alone is Life, without God is but death, 
 An endless godless life were but a life in death. 
 
 Wisdom a Child. 
 We afk how Wisdom can thus play in children's guise? 
 Why Wisdom is a child, so's every man that's wise. 
 
 The Valley and the Rain. 
 Let but thy heart, O man ! become a valley low, 
 And God will rain on it till it will overflow. 
 
 Divine Music. 
 A quiet patient heart that meekly serves his Lord, 
 God's finger joys to touch ; it is his harpfichord. 
 
 How we can see God. 
 God dwelleth in a light far out of human ken, 
 Become thyself that light, and thou wilt see Him then. 
 
 God's Work and Reft. 
 God never yet has worked, nor did He ever reft, 
 His reft is aye his work, his work is aye his reft. 
 
 Great Gifts and small Receivers. 
 Our great God always would the greateft gifts impart, 
 If but his greateft gifts found not so small a heart. 
 
286 Miscellaneous. 
 
 To the Reader. 
 Let, Reader, this suffice. But fhould'ft. thou wifh for more, 
 Then read in thine own heart a page of myftic lore. 
 
 Angclus Silesius. 
 
 FROM ALGER'S ORIENTAL POETRY. 
 
 The Beatific Fiji on. 
 IE dazzling beauty of the Loved One fhines unseen, 
 And selPs the curtain o'er the road ; away, O screen ! 
 
 The Luminous Truth. 
 "Who will give me his heart," said God, " my love he fhall 
 
 find." 
 With that speech a resplendent sun fell into my mind. 
 
 The Two Travellers. 
 Says God : " Who comes towards Me an inch through 
 
 doubtings dim, 
 In blazing light I do approach a yard towards him." 
 
 All is Safe. 
 Whatever road I take, it joins the ftreet 
 Which leadeth all who walk it Thee to meet. 
 
Miscellaneous. 28 7 
 
 The Divine Judgment. 
 God afks, not " To what sect did he belong ? " 
 But " Did he do the right, or love the wrong ? " 
 
 Precept without Practice. 
 Who learns and learns, but a&s not what he knows, 
 Is one who ploughs and ploughs, but never sows. 
 
 A Rank in Joys. 
 My heart ! abftain thou from the senses' dear wine-bowl ; 
 Diviner joys thy God intends fhall through thee roll. 
 
 Nip the Bud. 
 A sprout of evil, ere it has ftruck root, 
 With thumb and finger one up-pulls : 
 To ftart it, when grown up and full of fruit, 
 Requires a mighty yoke of bulls. 
 
 Swift Opportunity. 
 A thousand years a poor man watched 
 Before the gate of Paradise : 
 But while one little nap he snatched, 
 It oped and fhut. Ah ! was he wise ? 
 
 Squandered Youth. 
 Ah, five-and-twenty years ago had I but planted seeds of 
 
 trees, 
 How now I mould enjoy their made, and see their fruit 
 
 swing in the breeze ! 
 
288 Miscellaneous. 
 
 The Pilgrim to Deity. 
 Heedless, allured, one moment I forgot my goal 
 A thousand years it ftretched the journey of my 
 
 The Pledge and the Thing. 
 This life is a dim pledge of friendfhip from our 
 Give me the Friend, and the pledge may fink in 
 
 soul. 
 
 God: 
 the sod. 
 
 Cling not to aught that may be snatched from o'er the 
 
 rim ; 
 One fairy tale was all that Jemschid took with him. 
 
 God All in All. 
 Exempt from luft, exempt from love of pelf, 
 The wise man acts unconscious of himself. 
 He cares not for his actions' consequence, 
 But feeds devotion's fire with pure incense. 
 God is his gift, his sacrifice is God ; 
 God is his sacrificial knife and rod, 
 Himself, his altar, altar's flame, the sword ; 
 God also is the worfhip's sole reward. 
 
Miscellaneous. 289 
 
 THE BEGGAR'S COURAGE. 
 
 TO heaven approached a Sufi saint, 
 From groping in the darkness late, 
 And, tapping timidly and faint, 
 Besought admiffion at God's gate. 
 
 Said God, " Who seeks to enter here ? " 
 " 'Tis I, dear Friend," the saint replied, 
 
 And trembled much with hope and feir. 
 " If it be thou, without abide." 
 
 Sadly to earth the poor saint turned, 
 To bear the scourgings of life's rods ; 
 
 But aye his heart within him yearned 
 To mix and lose its love in God's. 
 
 He roamed alone through weary years, 
 By cruel men ftill scorned and mocked, 
 
 Until, from faith's pure fires and tears, 
 Again he rose, and modeft knocked. 
 
 Afked God, " Who now is at the door ? " 
 " It is thyself, beloved Lord ! " 
 
 Answered the saint, in doubt no more, 
 But clasped and rapt in his reward. 
 
290 Miscellaneous. 
 
 THE SAYINGS OF RABIA. 
 
 A pious friend one day of Rabia afked 
 How fhe had learned the truth of Allah wholly : 
 By what inftructions was her memory talked ? 
 
 How was her heart eftranged from the world's folly ? 
 
 She answered, " Thou, who knoweft God in parts, 
 Thy spirit's moods and procefles can tell : 
 
 I only know that, in my heart of hearts, 
 
 I have despised myself, and loved Him well." 
 
 II. 
 Some evil upon Rabia fell ; 
 And one, who loved and knew her well, 
 Murmured^ that God, with pain undue, 
 Should ftrike a child so fond and true. 
 But fhe replied, " Believe and truft 
 That all I suffer is moft juft. 
 I had, in contemplation, ftriven 
 To realize the joys of heaven ; 
 I had extended Fancy's flights 
 Through all that region of delights ; 
 Had counted, till the numbers failed, 
 The pleasures on the bleft entailed ; 
 Had sounded the ecftatic reft 
 
Miscellaneous. 291 
 
 I mould enjoy on Allah's breaft ; 
 And for those thoughts I now atone, 
 They were of something of my own, 
 And were not thoughts of Him alone. 
 
 III. 
 When Rabia unto Mecca came, 
 She flood awhile apart, alone ; 
 Nor joined the crowd, with hearts of flame, 
 Collected round the sacred ftone. 
 
 She like the reft, with toil had crofTed 
 The waves of water, rock, and sand j 
 And now, as one long tempeft-toffed, 
 Beheld the Raala's promised land. 
 
 Yet in her eyes no transport gliftened : 
 She seemed with fhame and sorrow bowed : 
 The fhouts of prayer me hardly liftened j 
 She beat her heart, and cried aloud, — 
 
 " O heart ! weak follower of the weak, 
 That thou fhould'ft traverse land and sea, 
 In this far place that God to seek 
 Who long ago had come to thee ! " 
 
292 Miscellaneous. 
 
 IV. 
 Round holy Rabia's suffering bed 
 
 The wise men gathered, gazing gravely. 
 " Daughter of God ! " the youngeft said, 
 
 " Endure the Father's chafkning bravely : 
 They who have fteeped their souls in prayer, 
 Can every anguifh calmly bear." 
 
 She answered not, and turned afide, 
 
 Though not reproachfully or sadly. 
 " Daughter of God ! " the eldeft cried, 
 
 " Suftain thy Father's chaftening gladly : 
 They who have learned to pray aright, 
 From Pain's dark well draw up delight." 
 
 Then spake (he out, " Your words are fair ; 
 
 But oh ! the truth lies deeper still : 
 I know not, when absorbed in prayer, 
 
 Pleasure or pain, or good or ill : 
 They who God's face can understand, 
 Feel not the workings of his hand." 
 
 "Heart Songs.' 
 
Miscellaneous. 293 
 
 HEAR what God, the Lord, hath spoken 
 O my people, faint and few, 
 Comfortless, afflicted, broken, 
 
 Fair abodes I build for you ; 
 Scenes of heartfelt tribulation 
 
 Shall no more perplex your ways ; 
 
 You fhall name your walls salvation, 
 
 And your gates fhall all be praise. 
 
 There, like ftreams that feed the garden 
 
 Pleasures without end fhall flow ; 
 For the Lord, your faith rewarding, 
 
 All his bounty fhall beftow : 
 Still in undifturbed poffeffion 
 
 Peace and righteousness fhall reign ; 
 Never fhall you feel oppreffion, 
 
 Hear the voice of war again. 
 
 Ye, no more your suns descending 
 
 Waning moons no more fhall see ; 
 But your griefs forever ending, 
 
 Find eternal noon in me : 
 God fhall rise, and mining o'er you, 
 
 Change to day the gloom of night ; 
 He, the Lord, fhall be your glory, 
 
 God your everlafting light. 
 
 Cowper. 
 

 
INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A pious friend one day of Rabia afked 290 
 
 Ah ! dearest Lord ! I cannot pray 69 
 
 All ye who seek a certain cure 79 
 
 All ye who seek, in hope and love 99 
 
 Answer with all thy pulses, throb and speak 234 
 
 At the Cross her station keeping 129 
 
 Banished the House of sacred rest 191 
 
 Bright Angels who attend 30 
 
 Bright Cherubim and Seraphim 98 
 
 Bright were the mornings first impearl'd 97 
 
 Change is written every where 280 
 
 Cheer up desponding soul 28 
 
 Christ to the young man said : Yet one thing more .... 261 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost, and through each heart 8 
 
 Come my soul awake 'tis morning 172 
 
 Come, O Creator Spirit blest • . 20 
 
 Come wandering sheep, O come 73 
 
 Cometh sunshine after rain 158 
 
 Creator Spirit, by whose aid 5 2 
 
 Darker and darker fall around 127 
 
296 Index. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dear Angel ! ever at my side 125 
 
 Dear Soul, couldst thou become a child 145 
 
 Deepen the wounds thy hands have made 220 
 
 Depart awhile each thought of care 19 
 
 Do not cheat thy heart, and tell her 247 
 
 Down the dark, future, through long generations 279 
 
 Earth with her ten thousand flowers 250 
 
 Ere the morning's busy ray 227 
 
 Eternity, Eternity ! 147 
 
 Exempt from lust, exempt from love of pelf 288 
 
 Faith of our Fathers ! living still 29 
 
 Father, I know that all my life 229 
 
 Father, in thy mysterious presence kneeling 242 
 
 Father of lights ! one glance of thine 115 
 
 Fear not, O little flock, the foe 143 
 
 Five loving souls, each one as mine 205 
 
 From highest Heaven, the Father's Son 119 
 
 God liveth ever 150 
 
 God's Spirit falls on me . . 282 
 
 God, Thou art my Rock of strength 165 
 
 God whom I as love have known 175 
 
 Grant us a body pure within 17 
 
 Great Framer of the earth and sky 6 
 
 Hark my soul how every thing 232 
 
 Have mercy Thou, most gracious God 36 
 
 He is a path if any be misled ... 231 
 
 Head of the Hosts in glory 95 
 
 Hear what God, the Lord, hath spoken 292. 
 
 Hear'st thou my soul what serious things 47 
 
 Holy Saviour, friend unseen 276 
 
 Holy Spirit I Lord of Light 51 
 
Index. 297 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Holy and innocent were all his ways 114 
 
 How few who from their youthful day 272 
 
 I come to Thee to-night 223 
 
 I love my God but with no love of mine 247 
 
 I think when I read the sweet story of old 240 
 
 I want the spirit of power within 244 
 
 I will not let Thee go 157 
 
 I worship thee, sweef Will of God 45 
 
 In caves of the lone wilderness thy youth 100 
 
 In having all things and not Thee, what have I 231 
 
 I I is not life upon thy gifts to live 241 
 
 It is the fall of eve 217 
 
 Jerusalem, thou City blest 120 
 
 Jesu, I my Cross have taken 32 
 
 Jesu, the very thought of Thee ■ 75 
 
 Jesus, the only thought of Thee 245 
 
 Just as I am! without one plea 221 
 
 Leave God to order all thy ways 170 
 
 Let us arise and watch ere dawn of light ........ 9 
 
 Lift up your hearts 43 
 
 Lift up your heads ye mighty gates 141 
 
 Light ! Light ! Infinite Light ! 74 
 
 Light of the soul, O Saviour blest 84 
 
 Lo ! cast at random on the wild sea sand 212 
 
 Lo ! fainter now lie spread the shades of night n 
 
 Lo ! He comes with clouds descending 89 
 
 Lo ! on the slope of yonder shore 106 
 
 Lo ! upon the altar lies 116 
 
 Look westward, pensive little one 200 
 
 Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed 186 
 
 Lord, in this dust thy sovereign voice 182 
 
 Lord of all power ! at whose command 55 
 
298 Index. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Lord of eternal purity 22 
 
 Lord of eternal truth and might 8 
 
 Lord what a change within us one short hour 237 
 
 Lovely flowers of martyrs, hail 114 
 
 Most High and Holy Trinity 163 
 
 My child, the counsels high attend 195 
 
 My God, accept my heart this day 31 
 
 My God, I love Thee not because 37 
 
 My Saviour what Thou didst of old 155 
 
 My smile is bright, my glance is free 189 
 
 My Soul ! what hast thou done for God 61 
 
 My spirit longeth for Thee 27 
 
 My spirit on thy care 277 
 
 My times are in thy hand 271 
 
 Nigher still, and still more nigh 85 
 
 No track is on the sunny sky 133 
 
 Not here, not here, not where the sparkling waters 281 
 
 Now at the Lamb's high royal feast 83 
 
 Now doth the sun ascend the sky 4 
 
 Now let us sit and weep 78 
 
 Now rests her soul in Jesus' arms 176 
 
 Now while the herald bird of day 14 
 
 Now with the rising golden dawn 16 
 
 O all ye who pass by, whose eyes and mind 254 
 
 O blessed Saint, of snow-white purity 105 
 
 O blest Creator of the light 3 
 
 O bounteous Framer of the globe 50 
 
 O Captain of the Martyr Host 104 
 
 O Christ ! the beauty of the angel worlds 101 
 
 O come and mourn with me awhile 81 
 
 O Faith ! thou workcst miracles 34 
 
 O for the happy days gone by 66 
 
Inde 
 
 299 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O Friend of souls, how well is me 168 
 
 O Heart of fire ! misjudged by wilful man 187 
 
 O Holy Ghost, Thou fire divine 161 
 
 O how I fear Thee, living God 26 
 
 O how the thought of God attracts 23 
 
 Oh how we pine for truth for something more 236 
 
 O it is hard to work for God 39 
 
 O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art 77 
 
 O Jesus ! King most wonderful ■ 76 
 
 Oh Lord ! how happy should we be 228 
 
 Oh that it were as it was wont to be 92 
 
 O Thou pure light of souls that love 87 
 
 O Thou the Father's Image blest 10 
 
 O Thou true life of all that live "... 9 
 
 O Thou whose wise paternal Love 246 
 
 Oh turn those blessed points, all bathed 91 
 
 Onward Christian, through the region 243 
 
 O watchman will the night of sin 139 
 
 O weep for them who never knew 262 
 
 Oh what a load of struggle and distress 235 
 
 Our limbs with tranquil sleep refresh'd 5 
 
 Perfect in love, Lord can it be 239 
 
 Preserve, my Jesus, oh preserve 117 
 
 Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control 185 
 
 Pure Light of light! eternal Day 13 
 
 Pure, meek, with soul serene 108 
 
 Return, O wanderer, return 268 
 
 Rise, glorious Conqueror, rise 93 
 
 Rock of Ages, rent for me 88 
 
 Round holy Rabia's suffering bed 292 
 
 She once was a lady of honor and wealth in 
 
 Shed kindly light amid the encircling gloom 184 
 
300 Index. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Since all the coming scenes of time 270 
 
 Sing we the peerless deeds of martyr'd Saints 102 
 
 Soil not thy plumage, gentle dove 12 
 
 Soldiers of Christ ! arise 59 
 
 Some evil upon Rabia fell 290 
 
 Star of the wide and pathless sea 131 
 
 Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh . . . . 260 
 Sweet Sabbath bells, I love your voice 275 
 
 Tear not away the veil, dear friend 202 
 
 The Church is one wide harvest field 204 
 
 The dazzling beauty of the loved one 286 
 
 The light of love is round his feet ... 56 
 
 The Lord's eternal gifts 103 
 
 The night is come, like to the day 226 
 
 The night is dark — behold the shade was deeper 251 
 
 The pall of night o'ershades the earth 21 
 
 The peace which God bestows 264 
 
 The silver chord in twain is snapp'd 44 
 
 The star that heralds in the morn 18 
 
 Thee in the hymns of morn we praise 22 
 
 There is a calm the Poor in Spirit know 233 
 
 There is not on the earth a soul so base 181 
 
 They who seek the throne of grace 238 
 
 Thou art of all created things 135 
 
 Thou Grace divine, encircling all 2:2 
 
 Thou loving Maker of mankind 54 
 
 Thy word, O Lord, like gentle dews 153 
 
 To Christ, the Prince of Peace 80 
 
 To heaven approached a Sufi saint 289 
 
 To the hall of that feast came the sinful and fair 60 
 
 Two hands upon the breast 249 
 
 Upon our fainting souls distil 17 
 
Index. 30 1 
 
 PAGE 
 
 We need some Charmer, for our hearts are sore 257 
 
 We watch'd, as she linger'd all the day 109 
 
 What time the Saviour spread his feast 196 
 
 When Heaven in mercy gives thy prayers return 199 
 
 When I am weak, I'm strong 266 
 
 When I look, back upon my former race 184 
 
 When I sink down in gloom or fear 190 
 
 When Rabia into Mecca came 291 
 
 When thou dost talk with God 71 
 
 When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean 259 
 
 What is the Church, and what am I 207 
 
 While Thou, O my God, art my help and defender .... 49 
 
 Why deck the high cathedral roof 211 
 
 Why dost thou beat so quick, my heart 64 
 
 Why haltest thus deluded heart 166 
 
 Why is thy face so lit with smiles 122 
 
 Why should we grudge the hour and house of prayer . . . . 213 
 
 Wish not dear friends my pain away 274 
 
 Within this leaf to every eye 269 
 
 Ye mist and darkness, cloud and storm 15 
 
 Yes, I do feel, my God, that I am thine 278 
 
 1 
 
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