THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 021 
 
 K23c 
 
 \a4-7 7 
 
The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books 
 
> 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR. 
 

 Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear 
 Attract us still, and passionate exercise 
 Of lofty thoughts, the way before us lies 
 Distinct with signs — through which, in fixed career. 
 As through a zodiac, moves the ritual year 
 Of England’s church, — stupendous mysteries ! 
 Which whoso travels in her bosom, eyes 
 As he approaches them, with solemn cheer. 
 Enough for us to cast a transient glance 
 The circle through. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 ( 2 ) 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 OF HIE 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR; 
 
 THOUGHTS IN VEHSE 
 
 FOR THE 
 
 iSUNDAY S AND HOLY DAY Si 
 
 THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. 
 
 BY THE BEV. JOHN KEBLE, 
 •PROFESSOR of poetry in the university 
 OF OXFORD. 
 
 In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength. 
 
 Isaiah, xxx. 15. 
 
 A NEW AMERICAN EDITION. 
 EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
 
 B Y TH E 
 
 RIGHT REV. GEORGE W. DOANE, 
 
 BISHOP OF NEW JERSEY. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 LEA AND BLANCHARD. 
 
 1847 . 
 
*l\ 
 
 K £Bc_ 
 
 I? VI 
 
 
 * TO 
 
 MY NEXT FRIEND, 
 
 AND MORE THAN BROTHER, 
 
 THE REV. WILLIAM CROSWELL, 
 
 RECTOR OF CHRIST CHURCH, BOSTON, 
 
 THESE PIOUS BREATHINGS 
 OF 
 
 A KINDRED SPIRIT 
 
 | ARE MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 
 G. W. D. 
 
 St. Mary's Parsonage, 
 
 Burlington, May 27, 1834. 
 
 925756 
 
The annual course of God’s great mystery, 
 
 “The word made flesh." On that with piercing eye 
 \ The angels gaze. On that the Church invites 
 [ Her sons to linger. As thereon me muse, 
 
 On each strange scene, or altogether wove, 
 
 ' A wondrous tissue like the braided hues 
 
 Which blessed the Patriarch’s sight, with eye above 
 \ Uplifted, faith the dear memorials views, 
 
 Signs of past mercy and endearing love. 
 
 Bishop Mant. 
 
 ( 6 ) 
 

 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE AMEKICAH EDITOR 
 
 The Editor’s first acquaintance with the “ Christian j 
 \ Year” was accidental. In a little volume of Conversa- 
 J tions on the Sacramenls and Services of the Church of s 
 
 > England, written by a lady, those beautiful lines, at £ 
 ! the opening of the piece entitled “ Holy Baptism”— 
 
 “ Where is it, mothers learn their love? 
 
 In every Church a fountain springs 
 O’er w hich the eternal Dove 
 Hovers on softest wings — 
 
 ! attracted his attention, and led him to order it through \ 
 ! his bookseller. This was in 18-J8, the year after its 
 
 > publication. The book, when received, was read with 5 
 
 > unmingled delight ; and no volume of uninspired poetry j 
 » has ever given him such rich and continued satisfac- 
 
 > tion. It has seemed to him, as Charles the Emperor l 
 | thought of Florence, a book too pleasant to be read j 
 ’ but only on holydays;”* and he has thought of no- 
 
 { thing more expressive of its delightful, tranquillizing ^ 
 spirit, than those lines of holy George Herbert, 
 
 “ Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 
 
 The bridal of the earth and sky.” 
 
 t u When I sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down ) 
 
 > these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of > 
 
 > the city of Florence ; that they were too pleasant to be looked on, 
 
 > but only on holydays.” 
 
 Isaac Walton , Complete Angler. 
 
 (7) 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 i viii 
 
 -fr 
 
 From the time of its first reading, the Editor has 
 ! never ceased to recommend it to his personal friends; 
 and in the “ Banner of the Church,” and in other ] 
 ways, to call the public attention to its merits. Many 
 5 copies have been imported ; and there is now an in- 
 
 > creasing circle of admiring and delighted readers, 
 
 j realizing for our Christian poet, what the greatest of 
 [ that name desired for himself, 
 
 “Fit audience, though few;”— 
 
 } the “ magnanimi pochi,” to whom Petrarch, kindred 
 { in more respects than one with Milton, made his sub- 
 | lime appeal. 
 
 Strangely enough, though the "Christian Year” has 
 J passed through more than fifty editions in England,* U 
 ! found no avenue to the American press, until brought, 
 
 ! last summer, to the notice of the intelligent and liberal 
 l publishers under whose auspices it now appears. In 
 5 contemplating an American edition, it was an obvious 
 
 > consideration, that, to a large portion of the admirers 
 ) of religious poetry, much of the charm of Keblo’s 
 ; volume would be lost, by their want of familiarity wi h 
 ! the arrangement of the " Christian” or Ecclesiastical 
 ^ "Year,” which forms its ground work, the siring on 
 
 which his pearls are hung. The Editor undertook to 
 supply this deficiency ; and in doing so, he has aimed 
 
 * “ The almost unexampled popularity of the ‘ Christian Year,’ 
 
 ^ and ihe ‘Iteclory of Valehead,’ both unquestionably breathing | 
 [ the pure spirit of the olden time, is no unfavourable prognostic of > 
 ? better times to come .” — Bishop Jtbb. 
 
 A late bookseller’s list enumerates, in 8vo. six editions, in 18r 
 £ tweDty-four, and in 32mo. twenty*two. (1844.) 
 
BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. 
 
 
 -+ 
 
 IX 
 
 to perform a service far beyond the additional interest ; 
 ! which may thus be given to these “Thoughts in verse.” ! 
 ! He frankly avows the purpose of rendering the pre- ! 
 ! sent enterprise subservient to the higher object of ex- ! 
 ! tending the knowledge and the influence of religion, as ! 
 it is exhibited in the order, institutions and services of! 
 the Church. The arrangement of the Ecclesiastical ! 
 Year, he has always regarded as one of the happiest j 
 of possible contrivances for arresting the attention, and ; 
 ; maintaining the interest of men, in regard to the great \ 
 ; facts of Christianity, while it appeals most powerfully ; 
 to the purest and strongest sympathies of the human ; 
 heart in their behalf. It is an acknowledged principle ; 
 of philosophy, that whatever is to make the strongest ! 
 iression on men must be made visible,* hither to ! 
 
 bodily, or to the “ mind’s eye.” How extensively 
 ; principle is applied in practice to the promotion of 
 ular interests, by pictures, statues, processions, pa- 
 ints, every one has seen. The blessed Saviour re- 
 mised its value in the institution of his few simple, 
 utiful, visible sacraments. In the reasonable, scrip- 
 al and most becoming appointments of the “Chris- 
 i Year,” the Church, following the example of the 
 ine appointments under the law, has applied this 
 dous principle to the commemoration of the great 
 ts-of Christianity. In the festivals of the Nativity, 
 Crucifixion, the Resurrection, the Ascension, the 
 ine Saviour seems, year by year, to be visibly set 
 th in his mighty and merciful acts, performed for 
 
 * Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, 
 
 Ipse sibi tradit spectator.’ 
 
 Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidehbus, et quae 
 
 Horace. 
 
■+ 
 
 our redemption : while in the minor festivals, the bless- 
 ed weekly feast of Sunday, and the solemn days of 
 preparation and of commemoration, the glorious and 
 endearing theme is constantly kept up before our eyes 
 and hearts: and “the rolling year,” in a sense far 
 higher than the poet's,* “ is full of” Him. T,he effect 
 of this practice, where it has been adopted, has been 
 well seen in the increase of the knowledge of salva- 
 
 Christ.” In the additional interest which this little 
 volume will create in these, the most important of all 
 subjects, the Editor expects to find his sufficient reward. 
 
 The Author of these pieces, it has come incidentally 
 to the knowledge of the Editor, while he holds the 
 most honourable office of Professor of Poetry in the 
 University of Oxford, is the exemplary and faithful 
 pastor of an humble country congregation, and devotes 
 himself unsparingly to the spiritual welfare of a rustic 
 flock, in which there is scarcely a single family of rank 
 or education. It is in such a school, that the sweetest 
 and most Christian poet of modern days is fitly taught. 
 So it was that Bemerton, and Little Gidden,and Hod- 
 net, became nurseries of strains that shall never die. 
 God be thanked, that along the tract of ages he still 
 scatters spirits like Hooker’s, and Herbert’s, and Wal- 
 ton’s, and Ken’s, and Ferrar’s, and Jeremy Taylor’s, 
 and Heber’s, and Keble’s, — to show how nearly the 
 human may by grace attain to the angelic nature, to 
 enchant our spirits here by the prolusion of those sera- 
 phic strains which in heaven are the continual occupa- 
 
BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. 
 
 I tion and enjoyment of the saints, — “ singing on earth,” 
 j as Isaak Walton said of Herbert, “such hymns and 
 c anthems as the angels, and he, and Mr. Ferrar now 
 l sing in heaven.” 
 
 In conclusion, the “ Christian Year,” apart from its 
 j! high poetical merit, is recommended most earnestly for 
 its pure, affectionate, and elevating character, as a 
 S family book. The taste which can appreciate its ex- 
 
 > cellencies, is a Christian taste. The meditation of its 
 
 > eminently spiritual strains will tend to spiritualize the 
 
 > heart. And the Christian home, where it is made a 
 ? household book, will find it fruitful, above almost every 
 ( book of human origin, in homebred charities and in- 
 
 < nocent delights. “ Then came the long quiet evening,” 
 
 \ writes one who can well estimate the various merits of 
 | a volume which she has done much to draw into gone- 
 ] ral use, “ when some of us gathered, as closely as 
 | possible, round the bright fire, and listened, while one 
 ; and another dear voice read some passage from Keble’s 
 j Christian Year. Soothing, beautiful poetry! well cal- 
 j culated to lift the heart above the cares of this trouble- 
 
 < some world, and to light the path with the sunshine of 
 
 ] heaven.”* G. W. D. 
 
 St. Mary's Parsonage, 
 
 Burlington, July 1, 1834. 
 
 * Scenes in our Parish, by a Country Parson’s Daughter. 
 
 Throughout the volume the notes of the American Editor £ 
 are enclosed in brackets. 
 
 1 - 
 
 Holmes i// y . Chi 
 
+~ 
 
 AUTHOR'S ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Next to a sound rule of faith, there is nothing of so ? 
 5 much consequence as a sober standard of feeling in $ 
 j matters of practical religion : and it is the peculiar hap- < 
 ? piness of the Church of England, to possess, in her \ 
 l authorized formularies, an ample and secure provision s 
 ? for both. But in times of much leisure and unbounded 5 
 
 < curiosity, when excitement of every kind is sought after 5 
 
 < with a morbid eagerness, this part of the merit of our > 
 
 < Liturgy is likely in some measure to be lost, on many $ 
 
 < even of its sincere admirers: the very tempers, which 5 
 \ most require such discipline, setting themselves, in ge- ^ 
 £ neral, most decidedly against it. 
 
 The object of the present publication will be attained, j 
 5 if any person find assistance from it in bringing his < 
 > own thoughts and feelings into more entire unison with t 
 ) those recommended and exemplified in the Prayer t 
 ? Book. The work does not furnish a complete series of £ 
 r compositions ; being, in many parts, rather adapted J 
 
 < with more or less propriety to the successive portions $ 
 
 < of the Liturgy, than originally suggested by them. J 
 
 < Something has been added at the end concerning the $ 
 s several Occasional Services: which constitute, from < 
 s their personal and domestic nature, the most perfect l 
 \ instance of that soothing tendency in the Prayer Book, < 
 
 £ which it is the chief purpose of these pages to exhibit, j 
 
 May 30, 1827. 
 
 ( 12 ) 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page | 
 
 } Morning - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 17 5 
 
 ? Evening - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 39^ 
 
 5 Advent Sunday - -- -- -- -- - - - 22 5 
 
 < Second Sunday in Advent. The Signs of the Times 28 £ 
 
 5 Third Sunday in Advent. The Travellers - - 30 > 
 s Fourth Sunday in Advent. Dimness - - - - 34 j 
 \ Christmas Day - -- -- -- -- -- --37? 
 
 5 St. Stephen’s Day - -- -- -- -- -- - 42 5 
 
 < St. John’s Day ------------ - 45 j 
 
 5 The Holy Innocents ----------- - 47 > 
 
 5 First Sunday after Christmas. The Sun-dial of l 
 ? Ahaz - -- -- -- - -- -- -- -- 49 r 
 
 5 The Circumcision of Christ - 52 | 
 
 < Second Sunday after Christmas. The Pilgrim’s ? 
 ; Song --------------- - 55 5 
 
 s The Epiphany - -- -- -- -- -- -- 58 < 
 
 i First Sunday after Epiphany. The Nightingale - 61 < 
 
 I ' Second Sunday after Epiphany. The Secret of \ 
 
 Perpetual Youth - -- -- -- -- -- 64 < 
 
 Third Sunday after Epiphany- The Good Cen- ) 
 
 turion - -- ------- 67 < 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. The World is for ? 
 
 Excitement, the Gospel fbr.Soothing - - - - 70 s 
 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. Cure Sin and you l 
 cure Sorrow - -- -- -- -- -- -- 73 ) 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. The Benefits of ] 
 Uncertainty ------------ - 76 > 
 
 Septuagesima Sunday - -- -- -- -- - 79 s 
 Sexagesima Sunday ----------- 81 \ 
 
 Ciuinnuaeesima Sunday --------- - P5 5 
 
 Ash -Wednesday - -- -- -- -- -- - 88 \ 
 First Sunday in Lent. The City of Refuge - - DO > 
 Second Sunday in Lent. Esau’s Forfeit - - - 93 s 
 Third Sunday in Lent. The Spoils of Satan - - 96 \ 
 Fourth Sunday in Lent. The Rosebud - - 
 
> XIV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page } 
 
 } Fifth Sunday in Lent. The Burning Bush - - - 102 > 
 
 > Palm Sunday. The Children in the Temple - - 105 £ 
 Monday before Easter. Christ waiting for the } 
 
 } Cross - 107 } 
 
 } Tuesday before Easter. Christ refusing the Wine \ 
 
 } and Myrrh no} 
 
 } Wednesday before Easter. Christ in the Garden 112 £ 
 ) Thursday before Easier. The Vision of the latter > 
 
 Days 115} 
 
 } Good Friday - -- -- -- -- -- -- 118 ( 
 5 Easter Rve - - - -- -- -- -- -- - 12 IS 
 
 ) Easter Day - -- -- -- -- -- -- - 124 } 
 
 } Monday in Easter Week. St. Peter and Cornelius 128 } 
 
 } Tuesday in Easier Week. The Snow Drop - - 130} 
 } First Sunday after Easter. The restless Pastor } 
 
 > reproved - -- -- -- - -- -- -- 133} 
 
 < Second Sunday after Easter. Balaam - - - - 336} 
 } Third Sunday after Easter. Languor and Travail 139 > 
 } Fourth Sunday after Easter. The Dove on the } 
 } Cross --------------- 142 ? 
 
 } Fifth Sunday after Easter. Rogation Sunday - 146} 
 
 } Ascension Day 149} 
 
 } Sunday after Ascension - -- -- -- - - 152} 
 
 } Whitsunday - ------- 155} 
 
 } Monday in Whitsun-Week. The City of Con- } 
 } fusion ----- - 157 } 
 
 < Tuesday in Whitsun-Week. Holy Orders - - 161 } 
 
 } Trinity Sunday - - 164 ? 
 
 } First Sunday after Trinity. Israel among the } 
 
 ? Ruins of Canaan 167? 
 
 S Second Sunday after Trinity. Charity the Life of } 
 
 Faith 169 
 
 } Third Sunday after Trinity. Comfort for Sinners > 
 
 in the presence of the Good 172 } 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Trinity. The Groans of ? 
 
 Nature - -- - 174} 
 
 l Fifth Sunday after Trinity. The Fishermen of } 
 } Bethsaida - -- -- -- -- -- -- - 177 > 
 
 } Sixth Sunday after Trinity. The Psalmist Repent- } 
 } ing - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 180 ? 
 
 } Seventh Sunday after Trinity. The Feast in the } 
 Wilderness - -- -- -- - 183 } 
 
Page £ 
 
 ] Eighth Sunday after Trinity. The disobedient 
 
 \ Prophet -------- - 186 £ 
 
 s Ninth Sunday after Trinity. Elijah in Horeb - 188 l 
 $ Tenth Sunday after Trinity. Christ Weeping over > 
 i Jerusalem - -- -- -- - 192 < 
 
 < Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. Gehazi reproved 194 ? 
 
 ? Twelfth Sunday after Trinity. The Deaf and > 
 
 \ Dumb - - 196 [ 
 
 < Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Moses on the 
 
 \ Mount - - - - 199 ) 
 
 < Fourteenth Sunday after Trinily. The Ten Lepers 203 ) 
 
 ) Fifteenth Sunday after Trinily. The Flowers of s 
 
 s the Field - - -- -- 205 1 
 
 ? Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. Hope is better > 
 
 | than Ease - -- _- - 207 < 
 
 < Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. Ezekiel’s ? 
 
 ) Vision in the Temple -- ------ - 210 l 
 
 s Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Church in \ 
 t the Wilderness - -- -- -- -- -- - 213 > 
 
 ) Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. Shadrach, 
 
 < Meshach, and Abednego - -- -- -- - 216 > 
 
 ) Twentieth Sunday after Trinity. Mountain Scenery 219 £ 
 
 1 Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity. The Red- ? 
 
 } Breast in September - -- -- -- - - - 221 S 
 
 > Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity. The Rule l 
 
 < of Christian Forgiveness 223 ; 
 
 ? Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity. The Forest < 
 s Leaves in Autumn - -- -- -- -- - 225 ? 
 
 I Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity. Imperfec- S 
 ) tion of Human Sympathy 227 ( 
 
 < Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity. The Two Rain- > 
 
 > bows - 230 \ 
 
 j Sunday next before Advent. Self-examination ? 
 
 \ before Advent - -- -- -- -- -- - 232 s 
 
 ) St. Andrew’s Day - -- -- -- -- -- 236 l 
 
 < St. Thomas the Apostle - -- -- -- -- 239 > 
 
 ; Conversion of St. Paul - -- -- -- -- - 243 ? 
 
 The Purification of St. Mary the Virgin - - - 247 > 
 
 St. Matthias’ Day - - 251 
 
 5 The Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary - 254 \ 
 
 < St. Mark’s Day - 257 l 
 
 j St. Philip and St. James’ Day ------ - 259 $ 
 
 •f * 
 
Page ) 
 
 < St. Barnabas the Apostle - -- -- -- -- 262 \ 
 ( St. John Baptist’s Day - -- -- - - - - - 265 ; 
 \ St. Peter’s Day ---------- - 268 ) 
 
 J St. James the Apostle - - - - - - - -271 i 
 
 > St. Bartholomew the Apostle ------- 274 5 
 
 ) St. Matthew the Apostle - ------- 277 < 
 
 ) St. Michael and all Angels - - -- -- -- 281 5 
 
 5 St. Luke the Evangelist - - 284) 
 
 \ Sr. Simon and St. Jude, Apostles ------ 288 ? 
 
 $ All Saints’ Day - -- -- -- -- -- - 291 ) 
 
 < Holy Communion ------- --- - 293 \ 
 
 ) Holy Baptism - -- -- -- -- -- -- 296 ) 
 
 ) Catechism - -- -- -- -- -- -- - 298 ) 
 ) Confirmation - -- -- -- -- -- -- 300 / 
 
 ) Matrimony - -- -- -- -- -- -- - 302 ) 
 ) Visitation and Communion of the Sick - - - - 304 
 
 5 Burial of the Dead - -- -- -- -- -- 306 5 
 
 ) Churching of Women - - -- -- -- -- 309 < 
 
 I ' Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea - - - - - 3 13 ) 
 Gunpowder Treason - - -- -- -- -- - 315 \ 
 King Charles the Martyr - -- -- -- -- 318 > 
 The Restoration of the Royal Family - - - - 320 ) 
 The Accession - -- -- -- -- -- -- 326 > 
 
 Ordination - -- -- -- -- -- -- - 328 > 
 
 i 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 His compassions fail not. They are new every 
 morning. — Lament, iii. 22, 23. 
 
 
 
 '+ 
 
 2 
 
 ( 17 ) 
 
18 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 New every morning is the love 
 Our wakening and uprising prove ; 
 
 Through sleep and darkness safely brought, 
 Restored to life, and power, and thought. 
 
 New mercies, each returning day, 
 
 Hover around us while we pray ; 
 
 New perils past, new sins forgiven, 
 
 New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. 
 
 If on our daily course our mind 
 Be set, to hallow all we find, 
 
 New treasures still, of countless price, 
 
 God will provide for sacrifice. 
 
 Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be, 
 As more of heaven in each we see : 
 
 Some softening gleam of love and prayer 
 Shall dawn on every cross and care. 
 
 As for some dear familiar strain 
 Untired we ask, and ask again, 
 
 Ever, in its melodious store, 
 
 Finding a spell unheard before. 
 
 Such is the bliss of souls serene, 
 
 When they have sworn, and steadfast mean, 
 Counting the cost, in all to espy 
 Their God, in all themselves deny. 
 
 O could we learn that sacrifice, 
 
 What lights would all around us rise ! 
 
 How would our hearts with wisdom talk 
 Along life’s dullest, dreariest walk ! 
 
 We need not bid, for cloister’d cell. 
 
 Our neighbour and our work farewell, 
 
 Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
 
 For sinful man beneath the sky: 
 
The trivial round, the common task, 
 Would furnish all we ought to ask ; 
 Room to deny ourselves ; a road 
 To bring us, daily, nearer God. 
 
 Seek we no more ; content with these, 
 Let present rapture, comfort, ease, 
 
 As Heaven shall bid them, come and go:- 
 The secret this of rest below. 
 
 Only, O Lord, in thy dear love 
 Fit us for perfect, rest above ; 
 
 And help us, this and every day. 
 
 To live more nearly as we pray. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Abide with us, for it is towards evening, and the j 
 \ day is far spent. — St. Luke xxiv. 29. 
 
 ’Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze, 
 
 Fast fading from our wistful gaze ; 
 
 Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight 
 The last faint pulse of quivering light. 
 
 In darkness and in weariness 
 The traveller on his way must press, 
 
 No gleam to watch on tree or tower, 
 
 Whiling away the lonesome hour. 
 
 Sun of my soul ! Thou Saviour dear, 
 
 It is not night if Thou be near: 
 
 Oh may no earth-born cloud arise 
 To hide thee from thy servant’s eyes. 
 
EVENING. 
 
 When round thy wondrous works below 
 My searching rapturous glance I throw, 
 Tracing out Wisdom, Power and Love, 
 
 In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; — 
 
 Or by the light thy words disclose 
 Watch Time’s full river as it flows, 
 Scanning thy gracious Providence, 
 
 Where not too deep for mortal sense ; 
 
 When with dear friends sweet talk I hold. 
 And all the flowers of life unfold :* 
 
 Let not my heart within me burn, 
 
 Except in all J Thee discern . \ 
 
 When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
 My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
 
 Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
 For ever on my Saviour’s breast. 
 
 Abide with me from morn till eve, 
 
 For without Thee I cannot live: 
 
 Abide with me when night is nigh, 
 
 For without Thee I dare not die! 
 
 :f 
 
 Thou Framer of the light and dark, 
 
 Steer through the tempest thine own ark : 
 
 * L“ Les plaisirs sont les fleurs que notre divine £ 
 Maitre, > 
 
 Dans les ronces du monde, autour de nous fait l 
 naitre, 
 
 Chacun a sa saison.*’] 
 
 tP'Domine, fecisli nos ad te, et inquietum est cor | 
 nostrum onec requiescat in te.” — St. Jlugustine.] 
 
Amid the howling wintry sea 
 We are in port if we have Thee.* 
 
 The Rulers of this Christian land. 
 
 ’Twixt Thee and us ordain’d to stand, — 
 Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright : 
 Let all do all as in thy sight. 
 
 Oh! by thine own sad burden, borne 
 So meekly up the hill of scorn, 
 
 Teach Thou thy priests their daily cross 
 To bear as thine, nor count it loss ! 
 
 If some poor wandering child of thine 
 Have spurn’d to-day the voice divine, 
 Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; 
 
 Let him no more lie down in sin. 
 
 Watch by the sick : enrich the poor 
 With blessings from thy boundless store: 
 Be every mourner’s sleep to-night 
 Like infant’s slumbers, pure and light. 
 
 Come near and bless us when we wake, 
 Ere through the world our way we take : 
 Till in the ocean of thy love 
 We lose ourselves in heaven above. 
 
»fVWVVWWW> 
 
 ; 22 
 
 ADVENT SUNDAY. 
 
 ADVENT SUNDAY.* 
 
 Now it is high time to awake out of sleep : for now < 
 » is our salvation nearer than when we believed. — Ro~ 
 
 > mans xiii. 11. [Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 , [Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast £ 
 away the works of darkness, and put upon us the ) 
 ! armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in 
 [ which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great \ 
 
 > humility ; that, in the last day, when he shall come \ 
 [ again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick l 
 
 > and dead, we may rise to the life immortal, through ’ 
 
 > him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy ] 
 
 l Ghost, now and ever. JimenA] ] 
 
 Awake— again the Gospel trump is blown — \ 
 
 | From year to year it swells with louder tone; 
 From year to year the signs of wrath 
 Are gathering round the Judge’s path : 
 
 ! Stra nge words fulfill’d, a nd mighty works achieved, 
 And truth in all the world both hated and believed. 
 
 * [The beginning of that season which commemo- 
 ; rates the Advent or coming of our blessed Lord. It 
 
 > has immediate reference to his first coming in the 
 ; flesh, and so is designed to prepare us for the due 
 p celebration of the festival of the nativity, commonly 
 [ called Christmas Day. It has ultimate reference to 
 j his second coming in glory, and so is designed to aid 
 , us in preparation for the day of final judgment. The 
 ' Advent Sundays, of which this is the first, are the 
 
 four next preceding Christmas. The first Sunday 
 I in Advent is always ihe Sunday nearest to the festi- 
 ; val of St. Andrew, whether before or after. If that 
 I Sunday fall on the last day of November, then St. 
 ; Andrew’s Day and Advent Sunday coincide. See 
 
 > note on St. Andrew’s Day.] 
 
 > f [Throughout the “ Christian Year,” the collect for 
 ; the day, in the book of Common Prayer, will be 
 
 > inserted.] 
 
ADVENT SUNDAY. 
 
 23 < 
 
 Awake ! why linger in the gorgeous town, 
 
 \ Sworn liegemen of the cross and thorny crown 7 
 Up, from your beds of sloth, for shame, 
 
 Speed to the eastern mount like flame, 
 
 \ Nor wonder, should ye find your king in tears; 
 Even with the loud Hosanna ringing in his ears. ! 
 
 \ Alas! no need to rouse them : long ago 
 | They are gone forth to swell Messiah’s show; 
 
 \ With glittering robes and garlands sweet 
 \ They strew the ground beneath his feet : 
 
 All but your hearts are there— O doom’d to prove $ 
 The arrows wing’d in heaven for Faith that will > 
 ( not love !* > 
 
 ( Meanwhile he paces through th’ adoring crowd, 
 
 ? Calm as the march of some majestic cloud, 
 i That o’er wild scenes of ocean-war 
 > Holds its course in heaven afar: 
 
 ) Even so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on,f l 
 
 l Thou keepest silent watch from thy triumphal £ 
 
 | throne : 
 
 { Even so, the world is thronging round to gaze 
 | On the dread vision of the latter days, 
 l Constrain’d to own Thee, but in heart 
 \ Prepared to take Barabbas’ part : 
 
 * [“ And a very great multitude spread their gar- 
 ) meats in the way : others cut down branches from the 5 
 < trees and strewed them in the way. And the multi- £ 
 ? tudes that went before, and that followed, cried, Ho > 
 $ sauna to the Son of David,” — Here was faith in c 
 <Jesus as the Messiah. The sad catastrophe of the > 
 
 > crucifixion too soon proved that it was not the faith > 
 
 > which “ worketh by Love ." J 
 
 t [So the apostles, at the election of Matthias, ad- £ 
 j dressing Jesus, “Thou, Lord, who knowest the £ 
 heart..”] 
 
j 24 ADVENT SUNDAY. 
 
 ! “ Hosanna” now, to-morrow “ Crucify,” 
 
 The changeful burden still of their rude lawless £ 
 cry. 
 
 $ Yet, in that throng of selfish hearts untrue, 
 
 > Thy sad eye rests upon thy faithful few ; 
 
 Children and childlike souls are there, 
 
 Blind Bartimeus’ humble prayer, 
 
 ! And Lazarus waken’d from his four days’ sleep, 
 Enduring life again, that Passover to keep. 
 
 And fast beside the olive-border’d way 
 \ Stands the bless’d home, where Jesus deign’d to l 
 stay, 
 
 The peaceful home, to zeal sincere 
 And heavenly contemplation dear, 
 
 \ Where Martha loved to wait with reverence meet, 
 
 ; And wiser Mary linger’d at thy sacred feet. 
 
 \ Still, through decaying ages as they glide, 
 j Thou lov’st thy chosen remnant to divide ; 
 Sprinkled along the waste of years, 
 
 Full many a soft green isle appears : 
 
 | Pause where we may upon the desert road, 
 
 Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode. 
 
 When withering blasts of error swept the sky,* 
 
 \ And Love’s last flower seem’d fain to droop and 
 die, 
 
 How sweet, how lone, the ray benign, 
 
 On shelter’d nooks of Palestine ! 
 
 $ Then to his early home did Love repair, f 
 \ And cheer’d his sickening heart with his own 
 native air. 
 
 * Arianism in the fourth century. 
 
 \ . t See St. Jerome’s Works, i. 123, edit. Erasm. 
 ^JT'he letters of Jerome are full of rural pictures of 
 
ADVENT SUNDAY. 
 
 25 
 
 ; Years roll away: again the tide of crime 
 ! Has swept thy footsteps from the favour’d clime. < 
 Where shall the holy Cross rind rest? 
 
 On a crown’d monarch’s* mailed breast : 
 
 \ exceeding beauty. He evidently wroto con amove, j 
 ; with a painter’s eye. and a poet’s feeling. “ Having < 
 
 > passed,” he says, “so much of my life in agitation, < 
 \ my poor bark now tossed with storms, now shattered \ 
 
 > against rocks, I betake myself to the retirement of the < 
 \ country, as to a safe and peaceful port. Here, plain < 
 f bread, roots raised by my own hands, and milk, the < 
 
 > peasant’s luxury, supply me cheap but wholesome i 
 $ food. So living, we neither suffer hinderance in our j 
 [ devotions from drowsiness, nor in our studies from 
 
 [ satiety. Is it summer, — our trees tempt us with their < 
 sheltering shade. Is it autumn, — the genial tempera- 
 ture of the air delights us, while the fallen leaves 
 afford a soft and quiet couch. Is it spring, —flowers 
 £ enamel the ground, and ihe tuneful birds lend to our ) 
 , hymns their sweet accompaniment. And even when t 
 ! winter comes, with storms and sleet, we have wood 
 
 > so cheap that we need neither sleep nor watch un- 
 t warmed.” But there was a charm for Jerome, in his 
 £ retirement, greater even than this. To the eye of a 
 
 i painter and the fancy of a poet, he added, what is far < 
 [ more ferule in enjoyment, the heart of a Christian ; | 
 , and in his rustic seclusion this had abundant giatifica- 
 ' tion. “ Here,” says he. ‘‘clownish though we are, i 
 we are all Christians. Psalms alone break the per- < 
 vading stillness. The ploughman is singing hallelujahs ? 
 while he turns his furrow. The reaper solaces his i 
 toil with hymns. The vineyard dresser, as he prunes l 
 his vines, chants something from the strains of David. < 
 These are our songs, and such the notes with which < 
 our love is vocal.”— 1 find in the Annals of Modern i 
 Missions a beautiful coincidence with the sentiment | 
 of Jerome. “ It is now very different from what it < 
 used to be,” said a native assistant to the Moravian j 
 missionaries in Greenland ; ‘‘everywhere you hear the j 
 people singing psalms.”] 
 
 * St. Louis in the thirteenth century. 
 
>26 
 
 ADVENT? SUNDAY. 
 
 ! Like some bright angel o’er the darkling scene, 
 
 \ Through court and camp he holds his heavenward 
 course serene.* 
 
 A fouler vision yet ; an age of light, 
 
 Light without love, glares on the aching sight: 
 
 Oh ! who can tei 1 how calm and sweejt, 
 
 Meek Walton ! shows thy green retreat, t 
 When wearied with the tale thy times disclose, 
 The eye first finds thee out in thy secure repose ? 
 
 Thus bad and good their several warnings give 
 Of His approach, whom none may see and Jive : 
 Faith’s ear, with awful still delight, 
 
 Counts them like minute bells at night, 
 Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn, 
 While to her funeral pile this aged world is $ 
 borne.J 
 
 But what are heaven’s alarms to hearts that \ 
 cower 
 
 In wilful slumber, deepening every hour, 
 
 ♦[Even Gibbon was constrained to say of him, 
 
 “ that he united the Virtues of a king, a hero and a < 
 man; that his martial spirit was tempered with the ) 
 love of private and public justice: and that Louis s 
 was the father of his people, the friend of his neigh- $ 
 hours, and the terror of infidels.”] 
 t[‘‘ Honest Izaak.” See his “Complete Angler.” 
 which has been well called “ an exquisitely pleasing < 
 performance;” and his incomparable lives of Donne, j 
 Wotton, Hooker, Hoi^ert and Sanderson.] 
 t [“ The world is grown old, and her pleasures are j 
 
 The world is grown old, and trembles for fear, ) 
 For sorrows abound, and judgment is near ” 
 
 Bishop Heber.) 
 
ADVENT SUNDAY. 
 
 That draw their curtains closer round, 
 
 The nearer swells the trumpet’s sound? 
 
 $ Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die, ] 
 
 \ Touch us with chastening hand, and make us < 
 feel Thee nigh.* 
 
 \ *LYet once again thy sign shall be upon the heavens | 
 display’d, 
 
 And earth and its inhabitants be terribly afraid. 
 
 For not in weakness clad thou com’st, our woes, 
 our sins to bear,' 
 
 But girt with all thy Father’s might, his vengeance | 
 to declare. 
 
 The terrors of that awful day, oh ! who can un- 
 derstand ? 
 
 Or who abide when thou in wrath shall lift thy holy 
 hand ? 
 
 The earth shall quake, the sea shall roar, the sun < 
 in heaven grow pale ; 
 
 But thou hast sworn, and wilt not change, thy faith- 
 ful shall not fail. 
 
 Then grant us. Saviour, t 
 trembling here, 
 
 That when upon the clouds of heaven thy glory > 
 shall appear, \ 
 
 Uplifting high our joyful heads, in triumph we may ? 
 rise. 5 
 
 And enter, with thine angel train, thy palace in the 
 skies! G. W. D.] 
 
1 28 
 
 SECQND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT, 
 
 THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES. 
 
 And when these things begin to come to pass, then 
 
 < look up and lift up your heads, for your redemption 
 ? draweth nigh.— St. Luke, xxi. 28. {Gospel for the 
 \ Day.] 
 
 [Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy scriptures 
 S to be written for our learning : grant that we may in 
 
 < such wise hear them, read, mark, learn and inwardly 
 ? digest them, that by patience, and comfort of thy holy 
 S word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast the blessed 
 
 < hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in 
 $ our Saviour Jesus Christ, jimen.] 
 
 Not till the freezing blast is still. 
 
 Till freely leaps the sparkling rill, 
 
 And gales sweep soft from summer skies, 
 
 As o’er a sleeping infant’s eyes 
 A mother’s kiss— ere calls like these, 
 
 No sunny gleam awakes the trees, 
 
 Nor dare the tender flowerets show 
 Their bosoms to tli’ uncertain glow. 
 
 Why then, in sad and wintry time, 
 
 Her heavens all dark with doubt and crime, 
 Why lifts the Church her drooping head, 
 
 As though her evil hour were fled ? 
 
 Is she less wise than leaves of spring, 
 
 Or birds that cower with folded wing ? 
 
 What sees she in this lowering sky 
 To tempt her meditative eye ? 
 
 She has a charm, a word of fire, 
 
 A pledge of love that cannot tire ; 
 
 By tempests, earthquakes, and by wars, 
 
 By rushing waves and falling stars, 
 
SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 29 l 
 
 By ever^ sign her Lord foretold, 
 
 She sees the world is waxing old,* 
 
 And through that last and direst storm 
 Descries by faith her Saviour’s form. 
 
 Not surer does each tender gem, 
 
 Set in the fig tree’s polish’d stem, 
 Foreshow the summer season bland, 
 
 Than these dread signs thy mighty hand : 
 But, oh ! frail hearts and spirits dark ! 
 The season’s flight unwarned we mark, 
 But miss the Judge behind the door,f 
 For all the light of sacred lore 
 
 Yet is He there : beneath our eaves 
 Each sound his wakeful ear receives : 
 Hush, idle words, and thoughts of ill. 
 Your Lord is listening ; peace, be still.§ 
 Christ watches by a Christian’s hearth, 
 
 Be silent, “ vain deluding mirth,” 
 
 Till in thine alter’d voice be known 
 Somewhat of resignation’s tone. 
 
 But chiefly ye should lift your gaze 
 Above the world’s uncertain haze, 
 
 And look with calm unwavering eye 
 On the bright fields beyond the sky, 
 
 * The world hath lost his youth, and the times 
 ! begin to wax old.— 2 Esdras xiv. 10. 
 
 t See St. James v. 9. 
 
 J [Notwithstanding all the light of Scripture.] 
 
 $ lta fabulantur, ut qui sciant Dominuin audire. 
 Tertull. Apolog. p. 36, edit. Rigalt. 
 
; 30 THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 Ye, who your Lord's commission bear, 
 
 His way of mercy to prepare : 
 
 Angels* He calls you ; be your strife 
 To lead on earth an angel’s life. 
 
 Think not of rest ; though dreams be sweet, 
 Start up, and ply your heavenward feet. 
 
 Is not God’s oath upon your head. 
 
 Ne’er to sink back on slothful bed? 
 
 Never again your loins untie, 
 
 Nor let your torches waste and die, 
 
 Till, when the shadows thickest fall, 
 
 Ye hear your Master’s midnight call ! 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 THE TRAVELLERS. 
 
 What went ye out into the wilderness to see? a 
 [ reed shaken with the wind ? But what went ye out 
 J lor to see? a prophet? Yea, 1 say unto you, and 
 ; more than a prophet. — St. Matt. xi. 7. 8. [Gospel 
 j for the Day.] 
 
 [O Lord Jesus Christ, who, at thy first coming, didst 
 J send thy messenger to prepare thy way before thee ; 
 
 > grant that the ministers and stewaids of thy mysteries 
 J may likewise so prepare and make ready thy way, by 
 
 > turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of 
 
 > the just, that, at thy second coming to judge the world, 
 
 ) we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight, 
 
 .» who livest and rcignest with the Father and the Holy 
 l Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.] 
 
 
 * [ Angels , from the Greek term, meaning messengers > 
 ^ or apostles.] 
 
THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 31 ; 
 
 What went you out to see 
 O’er the rude sandy lea, 
 
 ! Where stately Jordan flows by many g. palm, 
 
 Or where Gennesaret’s wave 
 Delights the flowers to lave, 
 
 ; That o'er her western slope breathe airs of balm? ! 
 
 All through the summer night, 
 
 Those blossoms red and bright* 
 
 Spread their soft breasts, unheeding, to the < 
 breeze, 
 
 Like hermits watching still 
 Around the sacred hill, 
 
 Where erst our Saviour watched upon his knees. 
 
 The paschal moon above 
 Seems like a saint to rove, 
 
 Left shining in the world with Christ alone ; 
 Below, the lake’s still face 
 Sleeps sweetly in th’ embrace 
 Of mountains terraced high with mossy stone. 
 
 Here may we sit and dream 
 Over the heavenly theme, 
 
 Till to our soul the former days return ; 
 
 Till on the grassy bed,t 
 Where thousands once he fed, 
 
 The world’s incarnate Maker we discern. 
 
 O cross no more the main, 
 
 Wandering so wild and vain, 
 
 * Rhododendrons : with which the western bank of 
 the lake is said to be clothed down to the water’s 
 edge. 
 
 t [“ Now there was much grass in this place.” — 
 St. John vi. 10.] 
 
! 32 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 | To count the reeds that tremble in the wind, 
 
 On listless dalliance bound, 
 
 Like children gazing round, 
 
 [ Who on God’s works no seal of Godhead find ; 
 
 Bask not in courtly bower. 
 
 Or sun-bright hall of power ; 
 
 ! Pass Babel quick, and seek the holy land ; 
 
 From robes of Tyriaii dye 
 Turn with undazzled eye 
 ! To Bethlehem’s glade, or Carmel’s haunted strand. 
 
 Or choose thee out a cell 
 In Kedron’s storied dell, 
 
 Beside the springs of love, that never die; 
 
 Among the olives kneel, 
 
 The chill night-blast to feel, 
 
 And watch the moon that saw thy Master’s 
 •agony.* 
 
 Then rise at dawn of day, 
 
 And wind thy thoughtful way, 
 
 Where rested once the Temple’s stately shade, 
 With due feet tracing round 
 The city’s northern bound, 
 
 To th’ other holy garden, where the Lord was $ 
 laid.f 
 
 * [The passover, when our Saviour suffered, was \ 
 always at the full moon.] 
 t [It is worthy of notice that gardens have been the j 
 scenes of the three most stupendous events that have 
 occurred on earth— the temptation and full of man, j 
 the agony of the Son of God, and his resurreciion j 
 from the grave.] 
 
THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 Who thus alternate see 
 His death and victory, 
 
 > Rising and falling as on angel wings, 
 
 They, while they seem to roam, 
 
 Draw daily nearer home, 
 
 [ Their heart untravell’d still adores the King of I 
 kings.* 
 
 Or, if at home they stay, 
 
 Yet are they, day by day, 
 
 ; In spirit journeying through the glorious land, 
 Not for light fancy’s reed, 
 
 Nor honour's purple meed, 
 
 ; Nor gifted prophet’s lore, nor science’ wondrous 
 wand. 
 
 But more than prophet, more 
 Than angels can adore 
 ^ With face unveil’d, is He they go to seek : 
 
 Blessed be God, whose grace 
 Shows him in every place 
 \ To homeliest hearts of pilgrims pure and meek. 
 
 * [“ My heart untravelled still returns to thee.” 
 
 Goldsmith's Traveller .] 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT.* 
 
 The eyes of them that see shall riot be dim, and ) 
 
 < the ears of them that hear shall hearken.— Isniah $ 
 \ xxxii. 3. [/First Lesson in the Evening Service.'] 
 
 [O Lord, raise up. we pray thee, thy power, and $ 
 j come among us, and with great might succour us; < 
 > that whereas, through our sins and wickedness, we ; 
 
 < are sore let and hindered in running the race that is j 
 ? set before us, thy bountiful grace and mercy may 
 
 \ speedily help and deliver us, through the satisfaction 5 
 
 < of thy Son, our Lord : to whom, with Thee and the £ 
 5 Iloly Ghost, be honour and glory, world without end. [ 
 
 < Amen.] 
 
 Of the bright things in earth and air 
 How little can the heart embrace ! 
 
 Soft shades and gleaming lights are there — 
 
 I know it well, but cannot trace. 
 
 * [The lines which follow are from the pen of the < 
 
 > beloved friend to whom this volume is inscribed. Its > 
 \ pages wll afford other evidence of the justice with < 
 
 ? which his name has been associated with the honoured S 
 5 name of Keble, as “ a kindred spirit.” Were he 5 
 r aware of the designed association, his gentle and re- < 
 ) tiring nature would, I know, forbid it. But one who, ) 
 < for nine years, was with him almost daily, and shared s 
 ? his secret thoughts, must claim to know him better ? 
 j than lie knows himself'; and he does not fear that $ 
 ^ Keble will not welcome the companionship. 
 
 \ ADVENT. 
 
 “ Rejoice in the Loid alway ; and aeain 1 say, Re- £ 
 ] joice. The Lord is at hand .” — Epistle for the last $ 
 
 > Sunday in Advent. 
 
 Now gird your patient loins again, 
 
 Your wasting torches trim! 
 
 The Chief of all the sons of men. 
 
 Who will not welcome him 1 
 

 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 35 
 
 Mine eye unworthy seems to read 
 One pope of Nature’s beauteous Jbook : 
 
 It lies before me, fair outspread — 
 
 I only cast a wishful look. 
 
 I cannot paint to Memory’s eye 
 The scene, the glance, I dearest love — 
 Unchanged themselves, in me they die, 
 
 Or faint, or false, their shadows prove. 
 
 In vain, with dull and tuneless ear, 
 
 I linger by soft Music’s cell, 
 
 And in my heart of hearts would hear 
 What to her own she deigns to tell. 
 
 ’Tis misty all, both sight and sound— 
 
 I only know ’tis fair and sweet — 
 
 ’Tis wandering on enchanted ground 
 With dizzy brow apd tottering feet. 
 
 Rejoice, the hour is near ! At length 
 The Jpurneyer on his way 
 Comes in the greatness of his strength. 
 To keep his holy day. 
 
 With cheerful hymns and garlands sweet 
 Along his wintry road, 
 
 Conduct him to his green retreat. 
 
 His shelter’d safe abode; 
 
 Fill all his court with sacred songs, 
 
 And from the temple wall 
 Wave verdure o’er the joyful throngs 
 That crowd his festival. 
 
 And still more greenly in the mind 
 Store up the hopes sublime 
 Which then were born for all mankind. 
 So blessed was the time ; 
 
 And underneath these hallowed eaves 
 A Saviour will be born 
 In every heart that him receives 
 On his triumphal morn. 
 
 Rev. William Crosioell.] 
 
36 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 But, patience! there may come a time 
 When these dull ears shall scan aright 
 Strains, that outring earth’s drowsy chime, 
 
 As heaven outshines the taper’s light. 
 
 These eyes, that, dazzled now and weak, 
 
 At glancing motes in sdnshine wink, 
 
 Shall see the King’s* full glory break, 
 
 Nor from the blissful vision shrink : 
 
 In fearless love and hope uncloy’d 
 For ever on that ocean bright 
 Empower’d to gaze; and undestroy’d, 
 
 Deeper and deeper plunge in light. 
 
 Though scarcely now their laggard glance 
 Reach to an arrow’s flight, that day 
 They shall behold, and not in trance, 
 
 The region “ very far away.” 
 
 If Memory sometimes at our spell 
 Refuse to speak, or speak amiss, 
 
 We shall not need her where we dwell 
 Ever in sight of all our bliss. 
 
 Meanwhile, if over sea or sky 
 Some tender lights unnoticed fleet, 
 
 Or on loved features dawn and die, 
 
 Unread, to us, their lesson sweet ; 
 
 Yet are there saddening sights around, 
 
 Which Heaven, in mercy, spares us too, 
 And we see far in holy ground. 
 
 If duly purged our mental view. 
 
 ♦Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty : they $ 
 shall behold the land that is very far olf . — Isaiah £ 
 , xxxiii. 17. 
 
The distant landscape draws not nigh 
 For all our gazing; but the soul 
 That upward looks may still descry 
 Nearer, each day, the brightening goal. 
 
 And thou, too curious ear, that fain 
 Wouldst thread the maze of harmony, 
 Content thee with one simple strain, 
 
 The lowlier, sure, the worthier thee ; 
 
 Till thou art duly trained, and taught 
 The concord sweet of love divine : 
 Then, with that inward music fraught, 
 For ever rise, and sing, and shine. 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 25.] 
 
 ( And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude £ 
 i of the heavenly host, praising God. — St. Luke ii. 13. £ 
 [Second Morning Lesson .] 
 
 [Almighty God, who hast given us thy only begot- 
 ; ten Son to take our nature upon him, and as at this £ 
 
 ' time to be born of a pure virejn ; grant that we, being S 
 ; regenerate and made thy children by adoption and ( 
 
 ■ grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit, S 
 ! through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth < 
 
 1 and reigneth with thee and the same Spirit, ever one \ 
 
 I God, world without end. Amen.] 
 
 What sudden blaze of song 
 Spreads o’er th’ expanse of heaven ? 
 
 In waves of light it thrills along, 
 
 Th’ angelic signal given — 
 
 * [The name given to this festival in the Prayer < 
 Book, sufficiently describes its objects, — “ The nati- r 
 vity of our Lord, or the birth day of Christ, com- > 
 monly called Christmas Day.” 
 
38 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 ‘ Glory to God!” from yonder central fire 
 ^ Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry choir; 
 
 Like circles widening round 
 Upon a clear blue river, 
 
 Orb after orb, the wondrous sound 
 Is echoed on for ever: 
 
 1 Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, 
 
 £ And love towards men of love*— salvation and 
 release.” 
 
 Yet stay, before thou dare 
 To join that festal throng; 
 
 Listen and mark what gentle air 
 First stirr’d the tide of song; 
 
 ’Tis not, “ the Saviour born in David’s home, 
 
 \ To whom for power and health obedient worlds 
 should come — 
 
 ’Tis not “ the Christ the Lord — 
 
 With fix’d adoring look 
 The choir of angels caught the word. 
 
 Nor yet their silence broke : 
 
 But when they heard the sign, where Christ 
 should be, 
 
 \ In sudden light they shone and heavenly harmony. 
 
 Wrapp’d in his swaddling bands, 
 
 And in his manger laid. 
 
 The hope and glory of all lands 
 Is come to the world’s aid : 
 
 No peaceful home upon his cradle smiled, 
 
 \ Guests rudely went and came, where slept the 
 royal child. 
 
 * I have ventured to adopt the reading of the Vul- 
 
 § ate, as being generally known through Pergolesi’s < 
 eautiful composition, “ Gloria in excelsia Deo, et in } 
 i terra pax hominibus bona voluntatis .” 
 
CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 39 
 
 But where thou dwellest. Lord, 
 
 No other thought should he, 
 
 Once duly welcomed and adored, 
 
 How should T part with Thee? 
 
 Bethlehem must lose Thee soon, but Thou wilt ^ 
 grace 
 
 \ The single heart to be thy sure abiding-place. 
 
 Thee, on the bosom laid 
 Of a pure virgin mind, 
 
 In quiet ever, and in shade, 
 
 Shepherd and sage may find ; 
 
 They, who have bow’d untaught to nature’s ^ 
 sway, 
 
 ! And they, who follow truth along her star-paved ^ 
 way. 
 
 The pastoral spirits first* 
 
 Approach Thee, Babe divine, 
 
 For they in lowly thoughts are nursed, 
 Meet for thy lowly shrine : 
 
 Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost | 
 dwell, 
 
 ! Angels from heaven will stoop to guide them to l 
 thy cell. 
 
 Still, as the day comes round 
 For Thee to be reveal’d, 
 
 By wakeful shepherds Thou art found, 
 Abiding in the field. 
 
 *[A beautiful allusion to the incidents described in ] 
 
 ! that sweet pastoral hymn, 
 
 < ** While shepherds watch’d their flocks by night, 
 
 ? All seated on the ground,” &. c. 
 
 ? There is much better poetry in the world than this: > 
 
 5 but it may he well doubted whether there are two £ 
 t other lines th*t will thrill as many hearts, or brighten ^ 
 
 ) as many eyes.] 
 
^ 
 
 $ 40 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 :? 
 
 All through the wintry heaven and chill night ( 
 air* 
 
 In music and in light thou dawnest on their j 
 prayer. 
 
 * [The determination of this holy festival to the 
 day on which the Christian world agrees to celebrate 
 it, must be allowed to be an arbitrary decision. But 
 its occurrence in the winter certainly gives rise to 
 peculiar and delightful associations and usages. The 
 pnets have not failed to improve this circumstance. 
 So in that glorious hymn of Milton, on the morning 
 of Christ’s nativity, — 
 
 “ Tt was the winter wild, 
 
 While the heaven-born child 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; 
 Nature in awe to him 
 JHas doff’d her gaudy trim, 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize : 
 
 It was no season then for her 
 
 To wanton with the Sun, her lus^y paramour.” 
 
 The same circumstance is beautifully spiritualized 
 in the following lines on “ Christmas Eve.” — having 
 reference to the becoming practice of dressing the 
 churches at that season with evergreens. “ the fir tree, 
 and the pine, and the bo.x tree together.” The author 
 of them has more ‘‘unwritten poetry” in him than 
 any man 1 know. 
 
 The thickly woven boughs they wreathe 
 Through every hallow’d fane 
 A soft reviving odour breathe 
 Of summer’s gentle reign ; 
 
 And rich the ray of mild green light 
 Which, like an emerald’s glow, 
 
 Comes struggling through the latticed height 
 Upon the crowds below. 
 
 O let the streams of solemn thought 
 Which in those temples rise. 
 
 From deeper sources spring than aught 
 Dependent on the skies : 
 
 4 
 
CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 41 ; 
 
 O faint not ye for fear — 
 
 What though your wandering sheep, 
 Reckless of what they see and hear, 
 
 Lie lost in wilful sleep ? 
 
 High Heaven in mercy to your sad annoy 
 \ Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. j 
 
 Think on tlf eternal home 
 The Saviour left for you; 
 
 Think on the Lord most holy, come 
 To dwell with hearts untrue : 
 
 So shall ye tread untired his pastoral ways, 
 
 ( And in the darkness sing your carol of high ] 
 ' praise. 
 
 Then, though the summer’s pride departs, 
 And winter’s withering chill 
 Rests on the cheerless woods, our hearts 
 Shall be unchanging still. 
 
 Rev. William CroswclL] 
 
>42 
 
 ST. STEPHEN S DAY. 
 
 ST. STEPHEN'S DAT.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 26.] 
 
 He, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stead- 
 ’ fastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and S 
 £ Jesus standing on the right hand of God. — Acts vii. £ 
 [Scripture appointed as the Epistle fur the\ 
 j Bay.} 
 
 [Grant, O Lord, that in all our sufferings here upon £ 
 | earth, for the testimony of thy truth, we may stead- > 
 
 > fastly look up to heaven, and hy faith behold the < 
 ! glory that shall be revealed ; and being filled with the ? 
 ; Holy Giiost, may learn to love and bless our perse- S 
 
 > cutors, by the example of thy first martyr Saint £ 
 | Stephen, who prayed for his murderers to thee, O > 
 i blessed Jesus, who standest at the right hand of God, \ 
 ! to succour all thpse who suffer for thee, our only \ 
 ; Mediator and Advocate. Amen.] 
 
 As rays around the source of light 
 Stream upward ere he glow in sight, 
 
 And, watching by his future flight, 
 
 Set the clear heavens on lire ; 
 
 So on the King of martyrs wait 
 Three chosen bands, in royal state, f 
 And all earth owns of good and great 
 Is gather’d in tha^ choir. 
 
 ! * [“Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy 't 
 
 Ghost,” was one of the seven deacons first ordained, i 
 and had the distinguished honour of being the first £ 
 
 ; martyr to the Christian faith. He was stoned to death.] 
 
 t Wheatley on the Common Prayer, c. v. sect. iv. 2. 5 
 “As tlieie aie three kinds of Martyrdom, the first both l 
 ; in will and deed, which is the highest : the second in > 
 
 > will but not in deed ; the third in deed but not in will : l 
 so the Church commemorates these martyrs in the ? 
 same order : St. Stephen first, who suffered death both $ 
 
st. Stephen’s day. 43 \ 
 
 One presses on, and welcomes death : 
 
 One calmly yields his willing breath, 
 
 Nor slow, nor hurrying, but in faith 
 Content to die or live : 
 
 And some, the darlings of their Lord, 
 
 Play smiling with the flame and sword, 
 
 And, ere they speak, to his sure word 
 Unconscious witness give. 
 
 Foremost and nearest to his throne, 
 
 By perfect robes of triumph known, 
 
 And Iikest him in look and tone, 
 
 The holy Stephen kneels, 
 
 With steadfast gaze, as when the sky 
 Flew open to his fainting eye, 
 
 Which, like a fading lamp, flash’d high, 
 
 Seeing wliEtt death conceals. 
 
 Well might you guess what vision bright 
 Was present to his raptured sight, 
 
 Even as reflected streams of light 
 Their solar source betray— 
 
 The glory which our God surrounds,* 
 
 The Son of man, th’ atoning wounds — 
 
 He sees them all ; and earth’s dull bounds 
 Are melting fast away. 
 
 He sees them all— no other view 
 Could stamp the Saviour’s likeness true, 
 
 Or with his love so deep embrue 
 Man’s sullen heart and gross — 
 
 ; in will and deed ; St. John the Evangelist next, who | 
 suffered martyrdom in will but not in deed ; the Holy < 
 Innocents last, who suffered in deed but not in will.” 
 
 ; * [“ But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up | 
 
 » steadfastly to heaven, and saw the glory of God, and < 
 
 ! Jesus standing on the right hand of God.”] 
 
“ Jesu, do Thou my soul receive ;* 
 
 Jesu, do Thou my foes forgive — 
 
 He who would learn that prayer, must live 
 Under the holy Cross ; 
 
 He, though he seem on earth to move, 
 Must glide in air like gentle dove, 
 
 From yon unclouded depths above 
 Must draw his plurer breath ; 
 
 Till men behold his angel facef 
 All radiant with celestial grace, J 
 Martyr all o’er, and meet to trace 
 The lines of Jesus’ death. 
 
 * [“ And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, 
 
 ; and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he ^ 
 i kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay < 
 
 ; not this sin to their charge. And when he had said J 
 this he fell asleep.”] 
 
 t And all that were in the council, looking stead- 
 ; fastly on him. saw his face as it had been the face of > 
 ' an angel . — Acts vi. 15. $ 
 
 + [With awful dread his murderers shook, 
 
 As, radiant and serene, 
 
 The lustre of his dying look 
 Was like an angel’s seen, 
 
 Or Moses’ face of paly light, 
 
 When down the mount he trod, 
 
 All glowing from the glorious sight 
 And presence of his God. 
 
 To us, with all his constancy, 
 
 Be his rapt vision given, 
 
 To look above by faith, and see 
 Revealments bright of heaven, 
 
 And power to speak our triumphs out 
 As our last hour draws near. 
 
 While neither clouds of fear nor doubt 
 Before our view appear. 
 
 Rev. William Croswell.~\ 
 
 4 
 
ST. JOHN S DAY. 
 
 ST. JOHN'S DAT.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 27.] 
 
 Peter, s§eing him, saith to Jesus, Lord, and what 
 ; shall this man do ? Jesus saith unto him. If 1 will that ; 
 ! he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? follow thou 
 me.— St. John. xii. 21, 22. t Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Merciful Lord, w 7 e beseech thee to cast thy bright 
 5 beams of light upon thy Church, that it, being in- < 
 > sfructed by the doctrine of thy blessed Apostle and < 
 Evangelist Saint John, may so walk in the light of thy < 
 truth, that it may at length attain to eveflasting life, j 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 “ Lord, and what shall this man do?” 
 
 Ask’st thou, Christian, for thy friend? 
 
 If his love for Christ be true, 
 
 Christ hath told thee of his end 
 This is he whom God approves, 
 
 This is he whom Jesus loves. 
 
 Ask not of him more than this, 
 
 Leave it in his Saviour’s breast, 
 
 Whether, early call’d to bliss, 
 
 He in youth shall find his rest, 
 
 * [This is the festival of John, the Evangelist and 
 Apostle, the son of Zebedee, and brother of James < 
 ! the Greater. He was especially distinguished during ? 
 ’ the lifetime of Jesus, as “ the beloved disciple.” Be- s 
 
 > sides the gospel which benrs his name, he wrote three l 
 5 Epistles and the Apocaiypse. He lived to be nearly a ) 
 
 > hundred years old ; and alone, of all the Apostles, < 
 » died a natural death. When he was too infirm through ) 
 ; age to make a longer discourse, his constant exhorta- ; 
 
 I fion to the Christians at Ephesus, where he lived, was, i 
 
 ‘‘ Little children, love one another !” 
 
ST. JOHN S DAY. 
 
 Or armed in his station wait 
 Till his Lord be at the gate ; 
 
 Whether in his lonely course 
 (Lonely, not forlorn) he stay. 
 
 Or with love’s supporting force 
 Cheat the toil and cheer the way: 
 Leave it all in His high hand, 
 
 Who doth hearts as streams command.* 
 
 Gales from heaven, if so He will, 
 Sweeter melodies can wake 
 On the lonely inountain rill 
 Than the meeting waters make. 
 Who hath the Father and the Son 
 May be left, but not alone. 
 
 Sick or healthful, slave or free, 
 Wealthy, or despised and poor — 
 What is that to him or thee, 
 
 So his love to Christ endure? 
 
 When the shore is won at last. 
 
 Who will count the billows past? 
 
 Only, since our souls will shrink 
 At the touch of natural grief, 
 
 When our earthly loved ones sink, 
 Lend us. Lord, thy sure relief; 
 Patient hearts, their pain to see, 
 
 And thy grace, to follow Thee. 
 
 * The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord, ae the l 
 ! rivers of water : he turnelh it whithersoever he will. — } 
 Proverbs xxi. 1. 
 
THE HOLY INNOCENTS. 
 
 47 < 
 
 THE HOLY INNOCENTS.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 28.] \ 
 
 These were redeemed from among men, being the \ 
 first fruits unto God and to the Lamb. — Revelation \ 
 xiv. 4. L Scripture appointed for the Epistle. 1 S 
 
 [O Almighty God, who out of the mouths of babes < 
 and sucklings hast ordained strength, and madest 
 infants to glorify thee by their deaths : mortify and < 
 kill all vices in us, and so strengthen us by thy grace, < 
 that, by the innocency of our lives and constancy of > 
 our faith even unto death, wc may glorify thy holy j 1 
 name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 S\y, ye celestial guards, who wait 
 In Bethlehem, round the Saviour’s palace gate, 
 Say, who are these on golden wings, 
 
 That hover o’er the new-born King of kings. 
 Their palms and garlands telling plain 
 That they are bf the glorious martyr train,! 
 
 * [The Church on this day commemorates the in- 
 fants slaih in Bethlehem, by the command of Herod, ; 
 in the vain hope of destroying the Lord’s Anointed, — ' 
 then, by the warning of an angel, safe in Egypt. As ! 
 a service commemorative of children, it is sometimes ; 
 called “ Childermas Day.”! 
 
 tCHail, infant suffefers I martyr’d flow’rets, haij ! 
 
 Cut off by ruthless knife, 
 
 Jus' at the gate of life, 
 
 Ye fell, as new-born roses fall when scatter’d by the 
 gale- 
 
 Earliest of all were ye, that suffer’d for the word, 
 
 Sweet firstlings of that slaughter’d flock, so pre- 
 cious to the Lord ; 
 
 And round his heavenly altar now, his high uplifted 
 throne. 
 
 Ye guileless sport the crown and palm your martyr- 
 dom hath won. 
 
 Imitated from Prudentius. — G. W. D .1 
 
48 
 
 THE HOLY INNOCENTS. 
 
 ; Next to yourselves ordain’d to praise 
 ; His name, and brighten as on Him they gaze ? 
 
 ! But where their spoils and trophies? where 
 ! The glorious diht a martyr’s shield should bear? 
 
 How chance no cheek among them wears 
 The deep-worn trace of penitential tears, 
 
 But all is bright and smiling love, 
 
 As if, fresh bo,rne from Eden’s happy grove, 
 
 They had flown here, their King to see, 
 
 Nor ever had been heirs of dark mortality? 
 
 Ask, and some angel will reply, 
 
 “ These, like yourselves, were born to sin and die v 
 But ere the poison root was grown, 
 
 God set his seal, and mark’d them for his own. 
 
 Baptized in blood for Jesus’ sake, 
 
 Now underneath the Cross their bed they make, 
 Not to be scared from that sure rest 
 By frighten’d mother’s shriek, or warrior’s wav- 
 ing crest.” 
 
 Mindful of these, the first-fruits sweet 
 Borne by the suffering Church, her Lord to greet ; 
 
 Bless’d Jesus ever loved to trace 
 The “innocent brightness” rrf an infant’s face. 
 
 He raised them in his holy arms, 
 
 He bless’d them from th,e world and all its harms : 
 Heirs though they were of sin and shame. 
 
 He bless’d them in his own and in his Father’s 
 name. 
 
 Then, as each fond unconscious child 
 On th’ everlasting Parent sweetly smiled, ; 
 
 (Like infants sporting on the shore, | 
 
 That tremble not at Ocean’s boundless roar,) ; 
 
 Were they not present to thy thought, ; 
 
 All souls, that in their cradles thou hast bought ? ! 
 
FITIST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 
 
 49 5 
 
 But chiefly these, who died for Thee, 
 
 ; That thou might’st live, for them a sadder death 
 to see. $ 
 
 And next to these, thy gracious word 
 | Was, as a pledge of benediction, stored 
 For Christian mothers, while they moan 
 | Their treasured hopes, just born, baptized, and \ 
 gone. 
 
 Oh ! joy for Rachel’s broken heart ! 
 
 ; She and her babes shall meet no more to part ; 
 
 So dear to Christ her pious haste 
 ; To trust them in his arms, for ever safe embraced. ] 
 
 She dares not grudge to leave them there, 
 Where to behold them was her heart’s first prayer; $ 
 She dares not grieve— but she must weep, 
 
 As her pale placid martyr sinks to sleep, 
 
 Teaching so well and silently 
 How, at. the Shepherd’s call, the lamb should die : ^ 
 How happier far than life the end 
 Of souls that infant-like beneath their burden ] 
 bend. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 
 
 THE SUN-DIAL OF AHAZ. 
 
 So the sun returned ten degrees, by which degrees j 
 it was gone down. — Isaiah xxxviii. 8. (Compare Josh. 5 
 x. 13.) [First Evening Lesson, Church of England $ 
 Prayer Book.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who hast given us thy only begot- $ 
 ten Son to take our nature upon him, and as at this \ 
 time to be born of a pure Virgin ; grant that we, being < 
 regenerate and made thy children by adoption and < 
 grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit, < 
 through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who livelh < 
 and reigneth with thee and the same Spirit, ever one ^ 
 God, world without end. Amen .1 
 
 4 
 

 $ 50 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 
 
 ’Tis true, of old th’ unchanging sun 
 His daily course refused to run ; 
 
 The pale moon hurrying to the west 
 Paused at a mortal’s call,* to aid 
 Th’ avenging storm of war, that laid 
 ^ Seven guilty realms at oncej on earth’s defiled ! 
 breast. 
 
 But can it be, one suppliant tear 
 Should stay the ever-moving sphere ? 
 
 A sick man’s lowly breathed sigh, 
 
 When from the world he turns away,J 
 And hides his weary eyes to pray, 
 i Should change your mystic dance, ye wanderers \ 
 of the sky ? 
 
 We too, O Lord, would fain command, 
 
 As then, thy wonder-working hand, 
 
 And backward force the waves of time, 
 That now so swift and silent bear 
 Our restless bark from year to year ; 
 
 [ Help us to pause and mourn to Thee our tale of ; 
 crime. 
 
 Bright hopes, that erst the bosom warm’d, 
 And vows, too pure to be perform’d, 
 
 And prayers blown wide by gales of care ; — < 
 These, and such faint half-waking dreams, 
 Like stormy lights on mountain streams, 
 
 ! Wavering and broken all, athwart the conscience < 
 glare. 
 
 * [Joshua.] 
 
 tL l’he Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Hivites, < 
 ? and the Pefizziies, and theGirgashites, and the Amor- ' 
 s ites, and the Jebusites.J 
 
 \ J And Hezekiah turned his face towards the wall, 
 
 < and prayed unto the Lord . — Isaiah xxxviii. i 2. 
 

 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 51 
 
 How shall we ’scape th’ o’erwhelming past? 
 Can spirits broken, joys o’ercast, 
 
 And eyes that never more may smile, — 
 Can these th’ avenging bolt delay, 
 
 Or win us back one little day, 
 
 > The bitterness of death to soften and beguile ? 
 
 Father and lover of our souls ! v 
 Though darkly round thine anger rolls, 
 
 Thy sunshine smiles beneath the gloom ; 
 Thou seek’st to warn us, not confound, 
 
 Thy showers would pierce the harden’d ground, 
 ’ And win it to give out its brightness and per- 
 fume. 
 
 Thou smil’st on us in wrath, and We, 
 
 Even in remorse, would smile on Thee; 
 
 The tears that bathe our offer’d hearts, 
 
 We would not have them stain’d and dim, 
 But dropped from wings of seraphim, 
 
 » All glowing with the light accepted Jove imparts. 
 
 Time’s waters will not ebb nor stay, 
 
 Power cannot change them, but love may ; 
 
 What cannot be, love counts it done. 
 
 Deep in the heart, her searching view 
 Can read where faith is fix’d and true, 
 
 ? Through shades of setting life can see Heaven’s 
 work begun. 
 
 O Thou, who keep’st the key of love, 
 
 Open thy fount, eternal Dove, 
 
 And overflow this heart of mine,* 
 
 ' [“ send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our ? 
 
 | hearts that most excellent gift of charity, the very bond s 
 i of peace and of all viHues ; without which whosoever $ 
 | liveth is counted dead before thee.” Collect for Quin- 
 > quagesima Sunday.] 
 
\ 52 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 
 
 Enlarging as it fills with Thee, 
 
 Till in one bkize of charity 
 ! Care and remorse are lost, like motes in light < 
 divine ; 
 
 Till, as each moment wafts us higher, 
 
 By every gush of pure desire, 
 
 And high-breathed hope of joys above, 
 
 By every sacred sigh we heave. 
 
 Whole years of tolly we outlive, 
 
 ! In His unerring sight, who measures life by love. I 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OE CHRIST.* 
 
 [JANUARY l.J 
 
 In whom also ye are circumcised with the circum- i 
 cision made without hands. — Colossians ii. 11. [Ne- 
 | cond Evening Lesson.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who madest thy blessed Son to be J 
 circumcised, and obedient to the law lor man; grant j 
 us the true circumcision of the Spirit, that, our hearts ! 
 and all our members being mortified from all worldly 
 and carnal lusts, we may in all things obey thy blessed 
 will, through the same thy Son Jesus Christ uur Lord. 
 
 [ Amen.] 
 
 The year begins With Thee, 
 
 And thou beginn’st with woe. 
 
 To let the world of sinners see 
 That blood for sin must flow. 
 
 * [Jesus Christ, taking our nature upon him, and ; 
 \ becoming obedient to the law for our sakes, was cir- < 
 ! cumcised on the eighth day, that he might “ fulfil all ; 
 5 righteousness. 5 '] 
 
THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 53 j 
 
 Thine infant cries, O Lord, 
 
 Thy tears upon the breast, 
 
 Are not enough— the legal sword 
 Must do its stern behest. 
 
 Like sacrificial wine 
 Poured on a victim’s head, 
 
 Are those few precious drops of thine, 
 
 Now first to offering led. 
 
 They are the pledge and seal 
 Of Christ’s unswerving faith, 
 
 Given to his Sire, our souls to heal, 
 
 Although it cost his death. 
 
 They to his Church of old, 
 
 To each true Jewish heart, 
 
 In Gospel graces manifold, 
 
 Communion blest impart. 
 
 Now of thy love we deem 
 As of an ocean vast, 
 
 Mounting in tides against the stream 
 Of ages gone and past. 
 
 Both theirs and ours Thou art, 
 
 As we and they are thine ; 
 
 Kings, prophets, patriarchs — all have part 
 Along the sacred line. 
 
 By blood and water too* 
 
 God’s mark is set on Thee, 
 
 That in Thee every faithful view 
 Both covenants might see. 
 
 * [Jesus was baptized as well as circumcised.] 
 
54 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 
 
 
 + 
 
 O bond of union, dpar 
 And strong as is Thy grace! 
 Saints, parted by a thousand years, 
 May thus in heart embrace. 
 
 Is there a mourner true, 
 
 Who, fallen on faithless days, 
 Sighs for the heart-consoling view 
 
 Of those Heaven deign’d to praise ? 
 
 In spirit may’st thou meet 
 With faithful Abraham here, 
 Whom soon in Eden thou slialt greet 
 A nursing father dear. 
 
 Would’st thou a poet be ? 
 
 And would thy dull heart fain 
 Borrow of Israel’s minstrelsy 
 One high enraptured strain ? 
 
 Colne here thy soul to tune, 
 
 Here set thy feeble chant. 
 
 Here, if at all beneath the nioon, 
 
 Is holy David’s haunt. 
 
 Art thou a child of tears, 
 
 Cradled in care and wo? 
 
 And seems it hard, thy vernal years 
 Few vernal joys can show ? 
 
 And fall the sounds of mirth 
 Sad on tliy lonely heart, 
 
 From all the hopes and charms of earth 
 Untimely called to part ? 
 
 Look here, and hold thy peace : 
 
 The Giver of all good 
 Even from the womb takes no release 
 From suffering, tears and blood. 
 
 * 
 
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 55 \ 
 
 If thou would’st reap in love, 
 
 First sow in holy fear: 
 
 So life a winter’s morn may prove 
 To a bright endless year. 
 
 \ SECOND SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. ; 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S SONG. 
 
 | When the poor and needy seek water, and there is J 
 ! none, and their tpngue faileth for thirst, I the Lord ) 
 ’ will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake { 
 [ them. Isaiah xli. 17. {First Morning Lesson .] 
 
 [Almighty God, who madest thy blessed Son to be < 
 [ circumcised, and obedienl to !he law for man ; grant \ 
 , us the true circumcision of the Spirit, that, our hearts < 
 ’ and our members being mortified from all worldly and < 
 
 > carnal lusts, we may in all things obey tby blessed 
 ( will, through the samethy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 
 > Arnen.] 
 
 And wilt Thou hear the fever’d heart 
 To Thee in silence cry ? 
 
 And as th’ inconstant wildfires dart 
 Out of the restless eye, 
 
 Wilt Thou forgive the wayward thought, 
 
 By kindly woeb yet half untaught 
 A Saviour’s right, so dearly bought, 
 
 That hope should never die ? 
 
 Thou wilt : for many a languid prayer 
 Has reach’d Thee from the wild, 
 
 Since the lorn mother, wandering there, 
 
 Cast down her fainting child ;* 
 
 * Hagar. See Gen. xxi. 15. 
 

 \ 56 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Then stole apart to weep and die, 
 
 Nor knew an angel form was nigh. 
 
 To show soft waters gushing by, 
 
 And dewy shadows mild. 
 
 Thou wilt — for Thou art Israel’s God, 
 
 And thine unwearied arm 
 Is ready yet with Moses’ rod, 
 
 The hidden rill to charm 
 Out of the dry unfathom’d deep - 
 Of sands, that lie in lifeless sleep, 
 
 Save when the scorching whirlwinds heap 
 Their waves in rude alarm. 
 
 These moments of wild wrath are thine — 
 Thine too the drearier hour, 
 
 When o'er th’ horizon’s silent line 
 Fond hopeless fancies cower, 
 
 And on the traveller’s listless way 
 Rises and sets th’ unchanging day, 
 
 No cloud in heaven to slake its ray, 
 
 On earth no sheltering bower. 
 
 Thou wilt be there, and not forsake, 
 
 To turn the bitter pool 
 Into a bright and breezy lake, 
 
 The throbbing brow to cool : 
 
 Till, left awhile with Thee alone. 
 
 The wilful heart be fain to own 
 That He, by whom our bright hours shone, 
 Our darkness best may rule. 
 
 The scent of water far away* 
 
 Upon the breeze is flung ; 
 
 The desert pelican to-day 
 Securely leaves her young. 
 
 * [“ Though the root thereof wax old in the earth. $ 
 and the stock thereof die in the ground ; yet through < 
 
r 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 57 j 
 
 Reproving thankless man, who fears 
 To journey on a few lone years. 
 
 Where on the sand thy step appears, 
 
 Thy crown in sight is hung. 
 
 Thou, who didst sit on Jacob’s well 
 The weary hour of noon,* 
 
 The languid pulses Thou canst tell, 
 
 The nerveless spirit tune. 
 
 Thou from whose cross in anguish burst 
 The cry that own’d thy dying thirst.t 
 To Thee we turn, our last and first, 
 
 Our Sun and soothing Moon. 
 
 From darkness, here, and dreariness 
 We ask not full repose ; 
 
 Only be Thou at hand to bless 
 Our trial hour of woes. 
 
 Is not the pilgrim’s toil o’erpaid 
 By the clear rill and palmy shade ? 
 
 And see we not, up earth’s dark glade, 
 
 The gate of heaven unclose ? 
 
 J the scent of water it will bud and bring forth boughs 
 
 > like a plant.” Job xiv. 8, 9. “The extraordinary 
 J scent of the camel enables him to discover water at a 
 
 > great distance ; and thus in the wildest regions of the 
 
 > desert, the caravan is often preserved from destruction 
 
 > by this instinct.” — “ Having wandered about for a 
 
 > long time,” says Burckhardt. speaking of a traveller in 
 £ search of water, “he alighted under the shade of a 
 
 > tree and tied the camel to one of its branches ; the 
 ! beast, however, smelt the water, (as the Arabs express 
 ( it,) and, wearied as it was, broke its halter, and sat off 
 
 > galloping furiously in the direction of the spring, which, 
 
 ( as it afterwards appeared, was at half an hour’s dis- 
 f tance .” — Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. i.] 
 
 * St. John iv. 6. t St. John xix. 28. 
 
58 
 
 THE EPIPHANY.* 
 
 [JANUARY 6.] 
 
 THE EPIPHANY, 
 
 >0 
 
 And, lo, the star, which they saw in the east., went 
 before them tili it came and stood over where the 
 young child was. When they saw the star, they re- 
 joiced with exceeding great joy.— St. Mutt. ii. 9, 10. 
 [Gospel for the Day.'] 
 
 [O God, who by thejeading of a star didst manifest 
 thy only begotten Son to the Gentiles ; mercifully 
 grant that we, who know thee now by faith, may 
 after this life have the fruition of thy glorious God- 
 head, through Jesus^ Christ our Cord.— Amen.} 
 
 Star of the east ! how sweet art Thou, 
 
 Seen in life’s early morning Sky, 
 
 Ere yet a cloud has dimm’d the brow, 
 
 While yet we gaze with childish eye ; 
 
 When father, mother, nursing friend, 
 
 Most dearly loved, and loving best, 
 
 First bid us from their arms ascend, 
 
 Pointing to Thee in thy Sure rest. 
 
 Too soon the glare of earthly day 
 Buries to us thy brightness keen, 
 
 And we are left to find our way 
 By faith and hope in Thee unseen. 
 
 1 * [The festival of the Epiphany, as its name imports, 
 commemorates the manifestation of Christ to the 
 Gentiles, as represented by the wise men, who in the 
 eastern land in which they dwelt, having seen his 
 star, had come to worship him.] 
 
 
 •+ 
 
THE EPIPHANY. 59 * 
 
 What matter ? it‘ the waymarks sure 
 On every side are round us set, 
 
 Soon overleap’d, but not obscure? 
 
 ’Tis ours to mark them or forget. 
 
 What matter? if in calm old age 
 Our childhood’s star again arise, 
 
 Crowning our lonely pilgrimage 
 
 With all that cheers a wanderer’s eyes? 
 
 Ne’er may we lose it from our sight 
 Till all our hopes and thoughts are led 
 
 To where it stays its lucid flight 
 Over our Saviour’s lowly bed. 
 
 There, swathed in humblest poverty. 
 
 On chastity’s meek lap enshrined, 
 
 With breathless reverence waiting by, 
 
 When we our sovereign Master find, 
 
 Will not the long-forgotten glow 
 Of mingled joy and ftwe return, 
 
 When stars above or flowers below 
 First made o»ur infant spirits burn? 
 
 Look on us, Lord, and take our parts 
 Even on thy throne of purity! 
 
 From these our proud yet grovelling hearts 
 Hide not thy mild forgiving eye. 
 
 Did not the Gentile Church find grace, 
 
 Our mother dear, this favour’d day? 
 
 With gold and myrrh she sought thy face,* 
 
 Nor didst Thou turn thy face away. 
 
 * [We come not with a costly store, 
 O Lord, like them of old, — 
 The masters of the starry lore, — 
 From Ophir’s shore of gold : 
 
; 60 
 
 THE EPIPHANY. 
 
 She too,* in earlier, purer days, 
 
 Had watch’d Thee gleaming faint and far- 
 But, wandering in self-chosen ways, 
 
 She lost Thee quile, thou lovely star. 
 
 Yet had her Father’s finger turn’d 
 To Thee her first inquiring glance : 
 
 The deeper shame within her burn’d 
 When waken’d from her wilful trance. 
 
 Behold, her wisest throng thy gate ; 
 
 Their richest^ sweetest, purest store 
 (Yet own’d too worthless and too late) 
 
 They lavish on Thy cottage -floor. 
 
 They give their best— O tenfold shame 
 On us, their fallen progeny, 
 
 Who sacrifice the blind and lamej — 
 
 Who will not wake| or fast with Thee ! 
 
 No weepings of the incense tree 
 Are with the gifts we bring, 
 
 No odorous myrrh of Araby 
 Blends with our offering. 
 
 But still our love would bring its best, 
 
 A spirit keenly tried 
 By fierce affliction’s fiery test, 
 
 And seven times purified : 
 
 The fragrant graces of the mind, 
 
 The virtues that delight 
 To give their perfume out, will find 
 Acceptance in thy sight. 
 
 Rev. William Cro swell .] 
 
 *The Patriarchal Church. 
 
 f Malachi i. 8. 
 
 | [“ What, could ye not watch with me one hour?” 
 St. Matthew xxvi. 40. 
 
FIRST SILNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 61 \ 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 , They shall spring up as among the grass, as willows ] 
 > by the water-courses . — Isaiah xliv. 4. [ First Morn- £ 
 
 [ ing Lesson , J 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee mercifully to receive tho > 
 ; prayers of thy people who .call upon thee ; and grant < 
 . that they may both perceive and know what things ? 
 ; they ought to do, and also may have grace and power $ 
 ’ faithfully to fulfil the same, through Jesus Christ our £ 
 ! Lord. JimenA 
 
 Lessons sweet of spring returning,* 
 Welcome to the thoughtful heart! 
 
 May I call ye sense or learning, 
 
 Instinct pure, or heaven-taught art? 
 
 Be your title what it may. 
 
 Sweet and lengthening April day, 
 
 While with you the soul is free, 
 
 Ranging wild o’er hill and lea. 
 
 [ * [“ When we write of the dawn of the year, of the s 
 
 > new races of birds and of blossoms that arc all around \ 
 ! us springing into life, our utmost efforts can give but S 
 » one enjoyment to the reader. But he who goes out to c 
 
 observe, has pleasure in every way that it can come, > 
 ; and health along with it. The beauty of the flowers < 
 ' and their iragrance, the elegant forms and varied tints \ 
 ! of the birds, their bustling activity and sprightly con- 
 duct, and the music of their songs ; the sportive gam- 
 bols of the young animals, and the tender solicitude > 
 , that is shown for them by the old, and all that is, and < 
 
 > all that occurs in the earth, the waters and the air, is a ? 
 ( constant creation,— a daily, nay, an hourly springing s 
 
 up of new worlds : and he who lives one spring in the l 
 
 > open air, may watch the whole progress of a hundred ) 
 
: 62 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Soft as Memnon’s harp at morning, 
 
 To the inward ear devout, 
 
 Touch’d by light, with heavenly warning 
 Your transporting chords ring out. 
 Every leaf in every nook, 
 
 Every wave in every brook, 
 
 Chanting with a kolemri voice, 
 
 Minds us of our better choice. 
 
 Needs no show of mountain hoary. 
 Winding shore or deepening glen, 
 Where the landscape in its glory 
 Teaches truth to wandering men : 
 
 Give true hearts but earth and sky, 
 
 And some flowers to bloom and die, — * 
 Homely scenes and simple views 
 Lowly thoughts may best infuse. 
 
 | generations. Nature is then 4 voice all over,’ and s 
 ' whether she speaks to one of >he senses, or to them all, t 
 > she always speaks instruction.” Mudie's British Na- > 
 1 turalist .] < 
 
 *[“Come quietly away with me, and we will walk t 
 up and down the narrow path, by the sweet-brier ? 
 hedge ; and we will listen to the low song of the black- S 
 bird, and the fresh air will cool our aching brows, and t 
 we shall find comfort. To these things, fresh air, and ) 
 the bird’s song, and the fragrance of the lowly flowers, 
 God has given a blessing ; like sleep, they are his me- 
 dicines, — 4 balm of sweet minds!’ We will walk to 
 and fro under the shade of these elms, and we will be £ 
 calm; bitter recollections shall he made sweet by the ) 
 thought of his mercies; and in the midst of the sor- \ 
 rows we have in our hearts, his comforts shall refresh } 
 our souls; and our minds shall be stored with many S 
 thoughts, sweet, like the perfume of these flowers.” — ’ 
 Scenes in our Parish. 
 
FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 63 \ 
 
 See the soft green willow springing 
 Where the waters gently pass, 
 
 Every way her free arms flinging 
 O’er the moss and reedy grass. 
 
 Long ere winter blasts are fled, 
 
 See her tipp’d with vernal red, 
 
 And her kindly flower display’d 
 Ere her leaf can cast a shade. 
 
 Though the rudest hand assail her, 
 
 Patiently she droops awhile, 
 
 But when showers and breezes hail her, 
 Wears 4gain her willing smile. 
 
 Thus I learn contentment's power 
 From the slighted willow bovver, 
 
 Ready to give thanks and live 
 On the least that Heaven may give. 
 
 If, the quiet brooklet leaving. 
 
 Up the stony vale I wind, 
 
 Haply half in fancy grieving 
 For the shades I leave behind, 
 
 By the dusty wayside drear. 
 
 Nightingales with joyous cheer 
 Sing, my sadness to reprove, 
 
 Gladlier t^an in cultured grove. 
 
 Where the thickest boughs are twining 
 Of the greenest, darkest tree. 
 
 There they plunge, the light declining — 
 
 All may hear, but none may see. 
 
 Fearless of the passing hoof, 
 
 Hardly will they fleet aloof; 
 
 So they live in modest ways, 
 
 Trust entire, and ceaseless praise. 
 
I 
 
 < 64 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 1 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AETEB, EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE SECRET OF PERPETUAL YOUTH. 
 
 Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, 
 
 5 and when men have well drunk, then that which is ; 
 : worse ; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.— 
 
 > St. John ii. 10. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God. who dost govern all £ 
 ? things in heaven and earth; mercifully hear the sup- ? 
 S plications of thy people, and grant us thy peace all i 
 < the days of our life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. \ 
 $ Amen.] 
 
 The heart of childhood is all mirth : 
 
 We frolic to and fro 
 As free and blithe, as if on earth 
 Were no such thing as wo. 
 
 But if indeed with reckless faith 
 We trust the flattering voice 
 Which whispers, “ Take thy fill ere death ; 
 Indulge thee and rejoice—” 
 
 Too surely, every setting day, 
 
 Some lost delight we mourn. 
 
 The flowers all die along our way, 
 
 Till we, too, die forlorn. 
 
 Such is the world’s gay garish feast. 
 
 In her first charming bowl 
 Infusing all that fires the breast, 
 
 And cheats th’ unstable soul. 
 
 And still, as loud the revel swells, 
 
 The fever’d pulse beats higher, 
 
 Till the sear’d taste from foulest wells 
 Is fain to slake its fire. 
 
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 65 
 
 Unlike the feast of heavenly love 
 Spread at the Saviour’s word 
 For souls that hear his call, and prove 
 Meet for his bridal board. 
 
 Why should we fear youth’s draught of joy, 
 If pure, would sparkle less ? 
 
 Why should the cup the sooner cloy, 
 
 Which God hath deign’d to bless? 
 
 For, is it hope, that thrills so keen 
 Along each bounding vein, 
 
 Still whispering glorious things unseen ? — 
 Faith makes the vision plain. 
 
 The world would kill her soon: but Faith 
 Her daring dreams will cherish, 
 
 Speeding her gaze o’er time and death 
 To realms where naught can perish. 
 
 Or is it love, the dear delight 
 Of hearts that know no guile, 
 
 That all around see all things bright 
 With their own magic smile? 
 
 The silent joy, that sinks so deep, 
 
 Of confidence and rest. 
 
 Lull’d in a father’s arms to sleep, 
 
 Clasp’d to a mother’s breast ? 
 
 Who, but a Christian, through all life 
 That blessing may prolong ? 
 
 Who, through the world’s sad day of strife. 
 Still chant his morning song? 
 
 Fathers may hate us or forsake, 
 
 God’s foundlings then are we 
 
; 66 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Mother on child no pity take,* 
 
 But we shall still have Thee. 
 
 We may look home, and seek in vain 
 A fond fraternal heart, 
 
 But Christ hath given his promise plain 
 To do a brother’s part. 
 
 Nor shall dull age, as worldlings say, 
 
 The heavenward flame annoy: 
 
 The Saviour cannot pass away, 
 
 And with him lives our joy. 
 
 Ever the richest, tenderest glow 
 Sets round 111’ autumnal sun — 
 
 But there sight fails ; no heart may know 
 The bliss when life is done. 
 
 Such is thy banquet, dearest Lord ; 
 
 O give us grace, to cast 
 Our lot with thine, to trust thy word* 
 And keep our best till last. 
 
 I 
 
 * Can a woman forget her suckling child, that she 
 Jj should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? 
 < yea, they may forget, yet will 1 not forget thee. Isaiah 
 ? xlix. 15. 
 
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 67 \ 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE GOOD CENTURION. 
 
 ; When Jesus heard it, he marvelled, and said to them < 
 
 > that followed, Verily 1 say unto you, I have not found ) 
 
 > so great faith, no not in Israel. St. Matthew viii. 10. £ 
 \ [.Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, mercifully look upon £ 
 ’ our infirmities, and in all our dangers and necessities^ 
 
 > stretch forth thy right hand to help and defend us. ^ 
 i through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 I mark’d a rainbow in the north-, 
 
 What time the wild autumnal sun 
 From his dark veil at noen look’d forth, 
 
 As glorying in his course half done, 
 
 Flinging soft radiance far and wide 
 ; Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill side. 
 
 It was a gleam to memory dear, 
 
 And as I walk and muse apart, 
 
 When all seems faithless round and drear, 
 
 I would revive it in my heart, 
 
 And watch how light can find its way 
 ’ To regions farthest from the fount of day 
 
 Light flashes in the gloomiest sky 
 And music in the dullest plain. 
 
 For there the lark is soaring high 
 Over her flat and leafless reign, 
 
 And chanting in so blithe a tone, 
 
 ; It shames the weary heart to feel itself alone. 
 
 Brighter than~rainbow in the north. 
 
 More cheery than the matin lark, 
 
\ 68 THIRD SUNDAY AFTE*. EPIPHANY. 
 
 Is the soft gleam of Christian worth, 
 
 Which on some holy house we mark, 
 
 Dear to the pastor’s aching heart 
 \ To think, where’er he looks, such gleam may 
 have a part ; 
 
 Maj; dwell, unseen by all but Heaven, 
 
 Like diamond blazing in the mine ; 
 
 For ever, where such grace is given, 
 
 It fears in open day to shine,* 
 
 Lest the deep stain it owns within 
 \ Break out, and faith be shamed by the believer’s 
 sin. 
 
 In silence and afar they wait, 
 
 To find a prayer their Lord may hear: 
 Voice of the poor and desolate, 
 
 You best may bring it to his ear. 
 
 Your grateful intercessions rise 
 \ With more than royal pomp, and pierce the skies. 
 
 » 
 
 Happy the soul, whose precious cause 
 You in the sovereign presence plead — 
 
 * Lord, 1 am not worthy that thou shoilldest come < 
 { under my roof. 
 
 “ From the first time that the impressions of religion | 
 ( settled deeply in his mind, he used great caution to j 
 ? conceal it ; not only in obedience to the rulo given by 5 
 s our Saviour, of fasting, praying, and giving alms in < 
 £ secret, but from a particular distrust he had of himself; ? 
 S for he said he was afraid he should at some time or 5 
 t other do some enormous thing, which, if he were looked l 
 [ on as a very religious man, might cast a reproach on $ 
 s the profession of it, and give great advantages to im- 
 ? pious men to blaspheme the name of God.” — Burnet's 
 i Life of Hale , in Wordsworth' s Eccl. Biog. vi. 73. 
 
t 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 69 j 
 
 “ This is the lover of thy laws,* 
 
 “ The friend of thine in fear and need,” 
 
 For to the poor thy mercy lends 
 j That solemn style, “ thy nation and thy friends.” j 
 
 He too is blest, whose outward eye 
 The graceful lines of art may trace, 
 
 While his free spirit, soaring high, 
 
 Discerns the glorious from the base ; 
 
 Till out of dust his magic raisef 
 j A home for prayer and love, and full harmonious £ 
 praise, 
 
 Where far away and high above, 
 
 In maze on maze the tranced sight 
 Strays, mindful of that heavenly love 
 Which knows no end in depth or height, 
 While the strong breath of music seems 
 l To waft us ever on, soaring in blissful dreams.} 
 
 What though in poor and humble guise 
 Thou here didst sojourn, cottage-born ? 
 
 Yet from thy glory in the skies 
 Our earthly gold Thou dost not scorn. 
 
 For love delights to bring her best, 
 
 ; And where love is, that offering evermore is [ 
 blest. 
 
 Love on the Saviour’s dying head 
 Her spikenard drops unblamed may pour. 
 
 * He loveth our nation, 
 t He hath built us a synagogue. 
 
 s 1 tin this and the former stanza allusion is made to £ 
 ? William of Wykeham, and Winchester cathedral. < 
 S The Gothic architecture and cathedral music are < 
 [ beautifully hinted at.] 
 
May mount his cross, and wrap him, dead, 
 
 In spices from the golden shore ;* 
 
 Risen, may embalm his sacred name 
 ; With all a painter’s art, and all a minstrel’s flame. 
 
 Worthless and lost our offerings seem, 
 
 Drops in the ocean of his praise ; 
 
 But mercy with her genial beam 
 Is ripening them to pearly blaze 
 To sparkle in His crown above, 
 
 | Who welcomes here a child’s as there an angel’s 
 love. 
 
 \ FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE WORLD IS FOR EXCITEMENT, THE GOSPEL 
 FQR SOOTHING. 
 
 ) When they saw him, they besought him to depart ) 
 
 > out of their coasts. St. Matthew viii. 34. L Gospel s 
 
 l for the Day.} % ? 
 
 LO God, who knowest us to be set in the midst, of) 
 
 > so many and great dangers, that by reason of the frailty s 
 
 > of our nature we cannot always stand upright; grant ? 
 
 > to us such strength and protection, as may support us i 
 5 in all dangers, and carry us through all temptations, < 
 
 > through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen . J > 
 
 They know th’ Almighty’s power, \ 
 
 Who, waken’d by the rushing midnight shower, \ 
 Watch for the fitful breeze 
 To howl and chafe amid the bending trees— 
 
 * St. John xii. 7 ; xix. 30. 
 
"I* FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 71 "f 
 
 Watch for the still white gleam < 
 
 To bathe the landscape in a fiery stream^ i 
 Touching the tremulous eye with sense of light t. 
 Too rapid and too pure for all but angel sight. i 
 
 They know th’ Almighty’s love, 
 
 Who, when the whirlwinds rock the topmost > 
 grove, - > 
 
 Stand in the shade, and hear < 
 
 The tumult with a deep exulting fear, s 
 
 How in their fiercest sway, s 
 
 Curb’d by some power unseen, they die away, < 
 Like a bold steed that owns his rider’s arm, l 
 Proud to be check’d and soothed by that o’er- i 
 mastering charm. > 
 
 But there are storms within > 
 
 That heave the struggling heart with wilder din ; s 
 And there are power and love s 
 
 The maniac’s rushing frenzy to reprove ; 
 
 And when he takes his sent, f 
 
 Clothed and in calmness, at his Saviour’s feet,* j 
 Is not the power as strange, the love as blest, j 
 As when He said, be still, and ocean sank to rest ? I 
 
 Wo to the wayward heart j 
 
 That gladlier turns to eye the shuddering start ; 
 
 Of passion in her might, 
 
 Than marks the silentgrowthofgrace and light; 5 
 Pleased in the cheerless tomb s 
 
 To linger, while the morning rays illume s 
 Green lake, and cedar tuft, and spicy glade, < 
 Shaking their dewy tresses now the storm is laid. < 
 
 ( 
 
 4 
 
72 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 The storm is laid— and now 
 In his meek power He climbs the mountain’s 
 
 Who bade the waves go sleep, 
 
 And lash’d the vex’d fiends to their yawning 
 
 How on a rock they stand, 
 
 Who watch his eye, and hold his guiding hand ! 
 Not half so fix’d, amid her vassal hills, 
 
 Rises the holy pile that Kedron’s valley fills. i 
 
 And wilt thou seek again \ 
 
 Thy howling waste, thy charnel-house and s 
 chain, < 
 
 And with the demons be, < 
 
 Rather than clasp thine own Deliverer’s knee ? < 
 Sure ’tis no heaven-bred awe t 
 
 That bids thee from his healing touch withdraw: > 
 The world and He are struggling in thine heart, > 
 And in thy reckless mood thou bidd’st thy Lord ] 
 depart. j 
 
 He, merciful and mild, j 
 
 As erst, beholding, loves his wayward child ; ( 
 
 When souls of highest birth j 
 
 Waste their impassion’d might on dreams of > 
 
 earth, > 
 
 He opens nature’s book, j 
 
 And on his glorious gospel bids them look, l 
 
 Till by such chords as rule the choirs above, \ 
 
 

 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 73 \ 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 CURE SIN AND YOU CURE SORROW. 
 
 Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it | 
 ) cannot save, neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: ) 
 < but your iniquities have separated between you and s 
 ? your God. Isaiah lix, 1, 2. [ First Morning Lesson £ 
 \ for the Day, Church of England Service .] 
 
 O Lord, we beseech thee to keep thy Church and \ 
 > Household continually in thy true religion, that they ( 
 5 who do lean only upon the hope of thy heavenly grace, > 
 c may evermore be defended by thy mighty power, £ 
 £ through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 
 
 “Awake, arm divine ! awake, 
 
 Eye of the only Wise ! 
 
 Now for thy glory’s sake. 
 
 Saviour and God, arise : 
 
 And may thine ear, that sealed seems, 
 
 In pity mark our mournful themes!” 
 
 Thus in her lonely hour 
 Thy Church is fain to cry. 
 
 As if thy love and power 
 Were vanish’d from her sky ; 
 
 Yet God is there, and at his side 
 He triumphs, who for sinners died. 
 
 Ah! ’tis the world enthralls 
 The heaven-betrothed breast ; 
 
 The traitor sense recalls 
 The soaring soul from rest. 
 
 That bitter sigh was all for earth, 
 
 For glories gone and vanish’d mirth. 
 
 Age would to youth return, 
 
 Farther from heaven would be. 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 To feel the wild fire burn, 
 
 On idolizing knee 
 Annin to fall, and rob thy shrine 
 Of hearts, the right of love divine. 
 
 Lord of this erring flock ! 
 
 Thou whose soft showers distil 
 On ocean waste or rock, 
 
 Free as on Herrnon hill — 
 
 Do Thou our craven spirits cheer, 
 
 And shame away the selfish tear. 
 
 ’Twas silent all and dead* 
 
 Beside the barren sea, 
 
 Where Philip’s steps were led, 
 
 Led by a voice from thee — 
 
 He rose and went, nor ask’d Thee why, 
 Nor stay’d to heave one faithless sigh. 
 
 Upon his lonely way 
 The high born traveller came, 
 Reading a mournful lay 
 Of “ One who bore our shame ;f 
 Silent himself, his name untold, 
 
 And yet his glories were of old.” 
 
 To muse what Heaven might mean, 
 His wondering brow he raised, 
 
 And met an eye serene 
 That on him watchful gazed. 
 
 No hermit o’er so welcome cross’d 
 A child’s lone path, in woodland lost. 
 
 I * See Acts viii. 26—40. [“ Arise and go toward < 
 the south, unto the way that gOeth down from Jerusa- 5 
 lem unto Gaza, which is desert .” A fine specimen of < 
 Keble’s intimate acquaintance with the Scriptures, in \ 
 ( their most minute details.] 
 
 \ Isaiah liii. 6—8. 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Now wonder turns to love ; 
 
 The scrolls of sacred lore 
 No darksome mazes prove ; 
 
 The desert tires no more: 
 
 They bathe where holy waters flow,* 
 
 Then on their way rejoicing go.] 
 
 They part to meet in heaven ; 
 
 But of the joy they share, 
 
 Absolving and forgiven, 
 
 The sweet remembrance bear. 
 
 Yes— mark him well, ye cold and proud, 
 Bewildered in a heartless crowd, 
 
 Starting and turning pale 
 At rumour’s angry din — 
 
 No storm can now assail 
 The charm lie wears within ; 
 Rejoicing still and doing good, 
 
 And with the thought of God imbued. 
 
 No glare of high estate, 
 
 No gloom of wo or want, 
 
 The radiance can abate 
 Where Heaven delights to haunt ; 
 
 Sin only hides the genial ray, 
 
 And, round the Cross, makes night of day. 
 
 Then weep it from thy heart ; 
 
 So may’st thou duly learn 
 The intercessor’s part: 
 
 Thy prayers and tears may earn 
 For fallen souls some healing breath, 
 
 Ere they have died th’ apostate’s death. 
 
 »1 
 
 * [“ See. here is water ; what doth hinder me to be ) 
 j baptized '?”] 
 
 t [“And he went on his way rejoicing.”] 
 
76 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE BENEFITS OF UNCERTAINTY. 
 
 Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth 
 ) not. yet appear what we shall be : but we know, that, 
 
 < when He shall appear, we shall be iike him. for we 
 ) shall see Him as he is. 1 St. John iii. 2. [Epistle for 
 [ the Day.] 
 
 [O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that he 
 $ might destroy the works of the devil, and make us the 
 
 < sons of God and heirs of eternal life ; grant us, we 
 
 I beseech thee, that having this hope, we may purify 
 ourselves, even as he is pure, that when he shall ap- 
 pear again with power and great gloiy, we may be 
 made like unto him in his eternal and glorious king- 
 dom ; where, with thee, O Father, and thee, O Holy 
 Ghost, he liveth and reigneth, ever one God, world 
 without end. Amen.] 
 
 There are who, darkling and alone, 
 
 Would wish the weary night were gone, 
 Though dawning morn should only show 
 The secret of their unknown wo; 
 
 Who pray for sharpest throbs of pain 
 To ease them of doubt’s galling chain :< 
 
 “ Only disperse the cloud,” they cry, 
 l “And if our fate be death, give light and let us 
 die.”* 
 
 Unwise I deem them, Lord, unmeet 
 To profit by thy chastenings sweet ; 
 
 For thou would’st have us linger still 
 Upon the verge of good or ill, 
 
 * *Ev Ss (f>aei Kai oiXteraov. The prayer of Ajax— 
 “ Light though I perish.” Homer. 
 
SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 77 i 
 
 That on thy guiding hand unseen 
 Our undivided hearts may lean, 
 
 And this our frail and foundering bark 
 \ Glide in the narrow wake of thy beloved ark 
 
 ’Tis so in war— the champion true 
 $ Loves victory more, when dim in view 
 \ He sees her glories gild afar 
 $ The dusky edge of stubborn war, 
 
 < Than if th’ untrodden bloodless field 
 
 < The harvest of her laurels yield ; 
 
 < Let not my bark in calm abide, 
 
 < But win her fearless way against the chafing tide. \ 
 
 ? ’Tis so in love — the faithful heart 
 ^ From her dim vision would not part, 
 
 When first to her fond gaze is given 
 That purest spot in fancy’s heaven, 
 
 For all the gorgeous sky beside, 
 
 Though pledged her own and sure t’ abide ; 
 Dearer than every past noon-day 
 j That twilight gleam to her, though faint and far j 
 away.* 
 
 So have I seen some tender flower. 
 
 Prized above all the vernal bower. 
 
 Shelter’d beneath the coolest shade, 
 
 Embosom’d in the greenest glade, 
 
 So frail a gem, it scarce may bear 
 | The playful touch of evening air ; 
 l When hardier grown, we love it less,| 
 
 ] And trust it from our sight, not needing our caress. 
 
 j * [Heu, quanto minus tui meminisse quam reliquis 
 > versari. Shenstone’s Epitaph an Miss Dolman .1 
 5 f [“ The bird that we nurse is ihe bird that we love.”] 
 
: 78 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 
 And wherefore is the sweet springtide 
 Worth all the changeful year beside? 
 
 The last-born babe, why lies its part 
 Deep in the mother’s inmost heart ? 
 
 But that the Lord and source of love 
 Would have his weakest ever prove 
 Our tenderest care— and most of all 
 ! Our frail immortal souls, His work and Satan’s 
 thrall. 
 
 So be it, Lord ; I know it best, 
 
 Though not as yet this wayward breast 
 Beat quite in answer to thy voice, 
 
 Yet surely I have made my choice ; 
 
 I know not yet the promised bliss, 
 
 Know not if I shall win or miss ; 
 
 So doubting, rather let me die, 
 
 I Than close with aught beside, to last eternally. 
 
 What is the heaven we idly dream ? 
 
 The self-deceiver’s dreary theme, 
 
 A cloudless sun that softly shines, 
 
 Bright maidens and unfailing vines, 
 
 The warrior’s pride, the hunter’s mirth, 
 
 Poor fragments all of this low earth ; 
 
 Such as in sleep would hardly soothe 
 ; A soul that once had tasted of immortal truth. 
 
 What is the heaven our God bestows ? 
 
 No prophet yet, no angel knows ; 
 
 Was never yet created eye 
 Could see across eternity ; 
 
 Not seraph’s wing for ever soaring 
 Can pass the flight of souls adoring, 
 
 That nearer still and nearer grow 
 ! To th’ unapproached Lord, once made for them | 
 so low. 
 
SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 79 \ 
 
 < Unseen, unfelt their earthly growth, 
 
 * And self-accused of sin and sloth 
 I They live and die : their names decay, 
 
 I Their fragrance passes quite away ; 
 
 Like violets in the freezing blast, 
 
 No vernal steam around they cast, — 
 
 But they shall flourish from the tomb, 
 
 The breath of Goj> shall wake them into odorous \ 
 bloom. 
 
 Then on th’ incarnate Saviour’s breast. 
 
 The fount of sweetness, they shall rest, 
 
 Their spirits every hour imbued 
 More deeply with his precious blood. 
 
 But peace— still voice and closed eye 
 Suit best w ith hearts beyond the sky, 
 
 Hearts training in their low abode, 
 
 Daily to lose themselves in hope to find their $ 
 God. 
 
 SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY.* 
 
 The invisible things of Him from the creation of the $ 
 world are clearly seen, being understood by the things < 
 which are made . — Romans i. ‘20. 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee favourably to hear the \ 
 I prayers of thy people, that we, who are justly pun- ( 
 
 > ished for our offences, may be mercifully delivered by > 
 I thy goodness, for the glory of thy name, through Jesus < 
 ; Christ our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee \ 
 
 > and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. 
 
 { Amen.] ___ 
 
 ' [The three Sundays next preceding Lent are called, 
 
 J respectively, Septuagesima, Sezagesima and Quin- 
 quagesima Sundays, because nearly sevtnty, sixty, > 
 
There is a book, who runs may read, 
 
 Which heavenly truth imparts, 
 
 And all the lore its scholars need, 
 
 Pure eyes and Christian hearts. 
 
 The works of God above, below, 
 
 Within us and around, 
 
 Are pages in that book, to show 
 How God himself is found. 
 
 The glorious sky embracing all 
 Is like the Maker’s love, 
 
 Wherewith encompass’d, great and small 
 In peace and order move. 
 
 The moon above, the Church below, 
 
 ^ A wondrous race they run, 
 
 ^ But all their radiance, all their glow, 
 
 Each borrows of its Sun. 
 
 \ The Saviour lends the light and heat) 
 
 < That crowns his holy hill ; 
 
 l The saints, like stars, around his seat, 
 
 1 Perform their courses still.* 
 
 The saints above are stars in heaven — 
 What are the saints oa earth ? 
 
 Like trees they stand whom God has given, f 
 Our Eden’s happy birth. 
 
 Faith is their fix’d unswerving root, 
 
 Hope their unfading flower, 
 
 Fair deeds of charity their fruit. 
 
 The glory of their bower. 
 
 ! and fifty days before Easter. The services appointed ( 
 > for them are designed as a preparation for the due \ 
 £ observance of the Lenten fast.] 
 
 * Daniel xii. 3. t Isaiah lx. 21. 
 
 
SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 81 ; 
 
 The dew of heaven is like thy grace,* 
 It steals in silence down ; 
 
 But where it lights, the favour’d place 
 By richest fruits is known. 
 
 One name above all glorious names 
 With its ten thousand tongues 
 
 The everlasting sea proclaims, 
 Echoing angelic songs. 
 
 The raging fire,f the roaring wind, 
 Thy boundless power display : 
 
 But in the gentler breeze we find 
 The Spirit’s viewless way.J 
 
 Two worlds are ours : ’tis only sin 
 Forbids us to descry 
 
 The mystic heaven and earth within, 
 Plait) as the sea and sky. 
 
 Thou, who hast given me eyes to see 
 And love this sight so fair, 
 
 Give me a heart to find out Thee, 
 
 And read Thee every where. 
 
 SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 So he drove out the man, and plaoed at the east of s 
 the garden of Eden cherubims, and a flaming sword ? 
 which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree 
 of life. — Gen. iii. 24. Compare Ch. vi. [First Les-\ 
 sons in the Morning and Evening Service of the 
 Church of England .] 
 
 * Ps. lxviii. 9. f Heb. xii. 29. 
 
 6 
 
 t St. John iii. 8. 
 

 tO Lord God, who seest that we put not our trust in 
 any thing that we /do, mercifully grant' that hy thy 
 power we may be defended against all adversity, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Foe of mankind ! too bold thy race : 
 
 Thou runn’st at such a reckless pace, 
 
 Thine own dire work thou surely wilt confound : 
 ’Twas but one little drop of sin 
 We saw this morning enter in; 
 
 And, lo ! at eventide the world is drown’d.* 
 
 See here the fruit of wandering eyes, 
 
 Of worldly longings to he wise, 
 
 Of passion dwelling on forbidden sweets: 
 
 Ye lawless glances, freely rove; 
 
 Ruin below and wrath above 
 
 Are all that now the wildering fancy meets. 
 
 Lord, when in some deep garden glade, $ 
 Of Thee and of myself afraid. 
 
 From thoughts like these among the bowers I l 
 hide, ? 
 
 Nearest and loudest then of bll ) > 
 
 I seem to hear the Judge’s call : — 
 
 “Where art thou, fallen man? come forth, and jj 
 be thou tried.” < 
 
 Trembling before Thee as I stand, 
 
 Where’er I gaze on either hand 
 The sentence is gone forth, the ground is cursed : l 
 Yet mingled with the penal shower t 
 
 Some drops of balm in every bower ) 
 
 Steal down like April dews, that softest fall and / 
 
 < * Tn the order of lessons for Sexagesima Sunday in 
 ) the Church of England, that from the Old Testament 
 j for the morning relates the fall, and that for the even- 
 
 < ing, the ./food.] 
 
SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 83 i 
 
 If filial and maternal love* * * § 
 
 Memorial of our guilt must prove, 
 
 ; If sinful babes in sorrow must be born ; 
 
 Yet, to assuage her sharpest throes, 
 
 The faithfql mother surely knows, 
 
 > This was the way Thou earnest to save the world | 
 forlorn.! 
 
 If blessed wedlock may not bless! 
 
 Without some tinge of bitterness 
 
 > To dash her cup of joy, since Eden lost ; 
 
 Chaining to earth with strong desire 
 Hearts that would highest else aspire 
 
 ; And o’er the tenderer sex usurping ever most ; 
 
 Yet by the light of Christian lore 
 ’Tis blind idolatry no more, 
 
 > But a sweet help and pattern of true love, 
 
 Showing how best the soul may cling 
 To her immortal Spouse and King, 
 
 I How He should rule, and she with full desire j 
 approve. 
 
 If niggard earth her treasures hide,§ 
 
 To all but labouring hands denied, 
 l Lavish of thorns and worthless weeds alone, 
 
 The doom is half in mercy given 
 To train us in our way to heaven, 
 
 ; And show our lagging souls how glory must be \ 
 won. 
 
 * In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children, 
 
 t [Notwithstanding she shall be saved in child bear- | 
 [ mg. 1 Tim. ii. 15.] 
 
 t Thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall ^ 
 £ rule over thee. 
 
 § Cursed is the ground for thy sake. 
 
; 84 
 
 SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 | If on the sinnef’s outward frame* 
 
 > God hath impress’d his mark of blame, 
 
 > And even our bodies shrink at touch of light, 
 
 ! Yet mercy hath not left us bare: 
 
 The very weeds we daily wearf 
 : Are to faith’s eye a pledge of God’s forgiving^ 
 might. 
 
 And oh ! if yet: one arrow more,f 
 The sharpest of th’ Almighty’s store, 
 
 > Tremble upon the string— a sinner’s death — 
 
 Art Thou not by to soothe and save, 
 
 ; To lay us gently in the.grave, 
 
 ! To close the weary eye and hush the parting £ 
 
 ; breath? 
 
 Therefore in sight of man bereft 
 The happy garden still was left ; 
 
 ! The fiery sword that guarded, show’d it too, 
 Turning all ways, the world to teach, 
 
 That though as yet beyond our reach, 
 
 ; Still in its placb the tree of life and glory grew. 
 
 * I was afraid, because I was naked. 
 
 ) f The Lord God made coats of skins, and he clothed 
 > them. 
 
QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 85 ] 
 
 QUIN QU AGE SIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 I do set iny bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a 
 | token of a covenant between me and the earth. Gen. , 
 l ix. 13.. [ First Morning Lesson for the Dag, Church > 
 [ of England..] S 
 
 t [O Lord, who hast taught us that all our doings \ 
 ) without chanty are nothing worth ; send thy Holy > 
 
 > Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent, gift l 
 
 > of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues, ; 
 j without which, whoever 1 i vet h is counted dead before ] 
 ( thee : grant this for thine only Son, Jesus Christ’s sake. > 
 [ Amen.] 
 
 Sweet dove ! the softest, steadiest plume 
 In all the sunbright sky, 
 
 Brightening in ever*changeful bloom 
 As breezes change on high; 
 
 Sweet leaf! the pledge of peace and mirth, 
 
 “ Long sought, and lately won,” 
 
 Bless’d increase of reviving earth, 
 
 When first it. felt the sun ; 
 
 Sweet rainbow ! pride of summer days, 
 
 High set at Heaven’s command, 
 
 Though into drear and dusky haze 
 Thou melt on either hand ; — 
 
 Dear tokens of a pardoning God, 
 
 We hail ye, one and all, 
 
 As when our fathers walk’d abroad,* 
 
 Freed from their twelvemonths’ thrall. 
 
 * [“ When o’er the green undeluged earth 
 Heaven’s covenant thou didst shine, 
 How came the world’s gray fathers forth, 
 To watch thy sacred sign ! 
 
i 86 
 
 QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 How joyful from th’ imprisoning ark 
 On the green earth they spring! 
 
 Not blither, after showers, the lark 
 Mounts up with glistening wing. 
 
 So home-bound sailors spring to shore, 
 Two oceans safely pass'd ; 
 
 So happy souls, whenlife isp’er, 
 
 Plunge in th’ empyreal vast. 
 
 What wins their first and fondest gaze 
 In all the blissful field, 
 
 And keeps it through a thousand days? 
 Love face to face reveal’d ; 
 
 Love imaged in that cordial look 
 Our Lord in Eden bends 
 On souls that sin and earth forsook 
 In time to die His friends. 
 
 And what most welcome and serene 
 Dawns on the patriarch’s eye, 
 
 In all th’ emerging hills so green, 
 
 In all the brightening sky ? 
 
 What but the gentle rainbow’s gleam, 
 Soothing the wearied sight, 
 
 That cannot bear the solar beam, * 
 
 With soft undazzling light? 
 
 Lord, if our fathers turn’d to thee 
 With such adoring gaze. 
 
 Wondering frail man thy light should see 
 Without thy scorching blaze; 
 
 And when its yellow lustre smiled 
 O’er mountains yet uni rod, 
 
 Each mother held aloft her child, 
 
 To bless the bow of God.” 
 
 Campbell J 
 
t* 
 
 QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 87 j 
 
 Where is our love, and where our hearts, 
 We who have seen thy Son, 
 
 Have tried thy Spirit’s winning arts— 
 And yet we are not won ? 
 
 The Son of God in radiance beam’d 
 Too bright for us to scan. 
 
 But we may face the rays that stream’d 
 From the mild Soa of man. 
 
 There„parted into rainbow hues, 
 
 In sweet harmonious strife. 
 
 We see celestial love diffuse 
 Its light o’er Jesus’ life!. 
 
 God, by His bow, vouchsafes to write 
 This truth in heaven above; 
 
 As every lovely hue is light, 
 
 So every grace is love.* 
 
 *[The lines below are not unworthy to be set in < 
 
 > Keble’s coronet. > 
 
 DE PROFUN D IS. 
 
 “ 7’here may be a cloud without a rainbow, but there / 
 
 > cannot be a rainbow without a cloud.” 
 
 My soul were dark 
 
 Rut for the frozen light and rainbow hue 
 That, sweeping heaven with their triumphal arc. 
 Break on the view. 
 
 Enough to feel 
 
 That God indeed is good ! enough to know 
 Without the gloomy clouds he could reveal 
 No beauteous bow. 
 
 Rev. William Cr os well.] 
 
4 ~ 
 
 ASH-WEDNESDAY. 
 
 ASH- WEDNESDAY.* 
 
 When thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy < 
 5 face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, hut unto > 
 
 < thy Father which is in secret. -St. Matthew vi. 17. £ 
 | [.Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who hatest nothing j 
 l that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all j 
 5 those who are penitent ; create and make in us new > 
 
 < and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting ours 
 ? sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain ? 
 ) of thee, the God of all mkrcy, perfect remission and [ 
 £ forgiveness, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 “Yes— deep within and deeper yet 
 
 The rankling shaft of cdnscience hide ; 
 
 Quick let the swelling eye forget 
 The tears that in the heart abide ; 
 
 Calm be the voice, the aspect bold, 
 
 No shuddering pass o’er lip or brow. 
 
 For why should innocence be told 
 The pangs that guilty spirits bow?” 
 
 “ The loving eye that watches thine 
 
 Close as the air that wraps thee round — 
 
 ) * [Ash-Wednesday (so called from the custom in > 
 
 £ the primitive church, of sprinkling ashes on that day l 
 ? on the heads of notorious offenders, who were then > 
 ) excommunicated) is the first day of Lent. The season ( 
 
 I of Lent embraces forty days, Sundays not being > 
 counted, which the church invites her members to > 
 observe with special seriousness and self-denial, as > 
 preparatory to the due commemoration of the mourn- ) 
 ful event of the crucifixion, which is celebrated on J 
 Good- Friday. The number of days is fixed in especial > 
 > reference to the forty days’ fasting of our Lord, just '> 
 \ before his temptation. 
 
ASH-WEDNESDAY. 89 ] 
 
 Why in thy sorrow should it pine, 
 
 Since never of thy sin it found? 
 
 And wherefore should the heathen see* 
 
 What chains of darkness thee enslave, 
 
 And mocking say, Lo„ this is he 
 Who own’d a God that could not save ?” 
 
 Thus oft the mourner’s wayward heart 
 Tempts him to hide his grief and die, 
 
 Too feeble for confession’s smart, 
 
 Too proud 1,0 hear a pitying eye ; 
 
 How sweet, in that dark hour, to fall 
 On bosoms waiting to receive 
 Our sighs, and gently whisper all ! 
 
 They love us— will not God forgive ? 
 
 Else let us keep our fast within, 
 
 Till Heaven and we are quite alone, 
 
 Then let the grief, the shame, the sin, 
 
 Before the mercy-seat be thrown. 
 
 Bet ween the porch and altar weep 
 Unworthy of the holiest place, 
 
 Yet hoping near the shrine to keep 
 One lowly cell in sight of grace. 
 
 Nor fear lest sympathy should fail— 
 
 Hast thou not seen, in night-hours drear, 
 When racking thoughts the heart assail, 
 
 Then glimmering stars by turns appear, 
 
 And from th’ eternal home above 
 With silent news of mercy steal ? 
 
 So angels pause on tasks of love. 
 
 To look where sorrowing sinners kneel. 
 
 Or, if no angel pass that way, 
 
 He who in secret sees, perchance 
 
 ) * Wherefore should they say among the people, 
 
 < Where is their God ? Joel ii. 17. 
 
FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 May bid his own heart-warming ray 
 Toward thee stream with kindlier glance, 
 As when upon His drooping head 
 
 His Father’s light was pour’d from heaven, 
 What time, unshelter’d and unfed,* 
 
 Far in the wild His - steps were driven. 
 
 High thoughts were with Him in that hour, 
 Untold, unspeakable on earth— 
 
 And who can stay the soaring power 
 Of spirits wean’d from worldly mirth, 
 While far beyond the sound of praise 
 With upward eye they float serene, 
 
 And learn to bear their Saviour’s blaze 
 When judgment shall undraw the screen ? 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY. IN LENT. 
 
 THE CITY OF REFUGE. 
 
 Haste thee, escape thither, for I cannot do any thing < 
 ; till thou be come thither ; therefore the name of the i 
 
 < city was called Zoar. — Genesis xix. ‘2*2. [First Morn- 
 
 4 ing Lesson for the Day, Church of England,.] 
 
 [O Lord, who for our sake didst fast forty days and ' 
 
 < forty nights, give us grace to use such abstinence, that < 
 ? our flesh being subdued to the Spirit, we may ever | 
 
 < obey thy godly motions in righteousness and true s 
 ? holiness, to thy honour and glory, who li vest and < 
 
 5 reignest with the Father and the Holy Gho 9 t, one God, J 
 ( world without end. Amen.] 
 
 I “ Angel of wrath ! why linger in mid air, 
 
 While the devoted city’s cry 
 
Louder and louder swells ? and canst thou spare, 
 Thy full-charged vial standing by ?” 
 
 Thus, with stern voice, unsparing justice pleads : 
 
 His eye is following where sweet Mercy leads, 
 
 And till she give the sign, his fury stays. 
 
 Guided by her, along the mountain road, 
 
 Far through the twilight of the morn, 
 
 With hurrying footsteps from th’ accursed abode 
 He sees the holy household borne : 
 
 Angels, or more, on either hand are nigh,* 
 
 To speed them o’er the tempting plain, 
 Lingering in heart, and with frail sidelong eye 
 Seeking how near they may unharin’d remain. 
 
 “ Ah ! wherefore gleam those upland slopes so fair ? 
 
 And why, through every woodland arch, 
 Swells yon bright vale, as Eden rich and rare, 
 Where Jordan winds his stately inarch ; 
 
 If all must be forsaken, ruin’d all , — 
 
 If God have planted but to burn ? — 
 
 Surely not yet th’ avenging shower will fall, 
 Though to my home for one last look I turn.” 
 Thus while they waver, surely long ago 
 They had provoked the withering blast, 
 
 But that the merciful avengers know 
 
 Their frailty well, and hold them fast. 
 
 “ Haste, for thy life escape, nor look behind”— 
 Ever in thrilling sounds like these 
 'They check the wandering eye, severely kind, 
 Nor let the sinner lose his soul at ease. 
 
 * [The family of Lot, led out of Sodom. The ex- | 
 pression, “angels, or more ” (angels, or greater than / 
 they), has reference, probably, to the “angel of the < 
 covenant,” spoken of in the Old Testament, and gen- \ 
 erally understood as a manifestation of the Son of God. > 
 
(92 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 S And when, o’erwearied with the steep ascent, 
 
 \ We for a nearer refuge crave, 
 
 One little spot of ground in mercy lent, 
 
 ( One hour of home before the grave, 
 
 Oft in his pity o’er his children weak, 
 
 His hand withdraws the penal fire, 
 
 And where we fondly cling, forbears to wreak 
 Full vengeance, till our hearts are wean’d entire. \ 
 
 > Thus, by the merits of one righteous man, 
 
 S The Church, our Zoar, shall abide ; 
 
 \ Till she abuse, so sore, her. lengthen’d span, 
 
 \ Even Mercy’s self her face must hide. 
 
 < Then, onward yet a step, thou hard-won soul ; 
 
 < Though in the Church thou know thy place, 
 i The mountain farther lies— there seek thy goal, 
 
 ^ There breathe at large, o’erpast thy dangerous \ 
 
 race. 
 
 I Sweet is the smile of home, the mutual look 
 When Hearts are of each other sure ; 
 i Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, \ 
 l The haunt of all affections pure ; 
 
 \ Yet in the world even these abide, and we 
 Above the world our calling boast: 
 
 ^ Once gain the mountain top, and thou art free: 
 j Till then, who rest, presume ; who turn to look, \ 
 are lost.* 
 
 * Escape for thy life : look not behind thee, neither j 
 ? stay thou in all the plain : escape to the mountain, ( 
 
 S lest thou be consumed But his wile looked < 
 
 £ back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt. < 
 > Genesis xix. 17, 2ti. 
 
SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 ESAU’S FORFEIT. 
 
 And when Esau heard the words of his father, he $ 
 [ cried with a great and exceeding bitter cry, and said 5 
 
 > unto his father, Bless me, even me also, O my father. < 
 5 Oen. xxvii. 34. (Compare Hebrews xii. 17. He found j 
 
 > no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully < 
 
 > with tears .) * — First Morning Lesson for the Day, ! 
 ' Church of England,.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who seest that we have no power of j 
 l ourselves to help ourselvps ; keep us both outwardly ) 
 
 > in our bodies, and inwardly in our souls : that we may ( 
 
 > be defended from all adversities which may happen [ 
 l to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may < 
 
 > assault and hurt the soul, through Jesus Christ our j 
 ( Lord. Amen.] 
 
 > “And is there in Gop’s world so drear a place 
 
 Where the loud hitter cry is raised in vain ? 
 
 I Where tears of penance come too late for grace, 
 As op th’*uprooted flower the genial rain 7 
 
 ’Tis even so : the sovereign Lord of souls 
 Stores in the dungeon of his boundless realm 
 I Each bolt, that o’er the sinner vainly rolls, 
 
 With gather’d wrath the reprobate to whelm. 
 
 * The author earnestly hopes that nothing in these < 
 £ stanzas will be understood to express any opinion as < 
 
 > to the general efficacy of what is called “ a death-bed < 
 
 > repentance.” Such questions are best left in the < 
 
 > merciful obscurity with which Hcripture has enveloped * 
 
 > them. Esau's probation, as far as his birthright was j 
 j concerned, was quite over when he uttered the cry in 5 
 
 > the text. His despondency, therefore, is not parallel j 
 
 ^to any thing on this side the grave. ? 
 
94 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 J Will the storm hear the sailor’s piteous cry,* 
 Taught to mistrust, too late, the tempting 
 wave, 
 
 \ When all around he sees but sea and sky, 
 
 A God in anger, a self-chosen grave ? 
 
 ) Or will the thorns, that strew intemperance’ ) 
 bed,f 
 
 Turn with a wish to down ? will late remorse \ 
 ^ Recall the shaft the murderer’s hand has sped. 
 
 Or from the guiltless bosom turns fts course ? 
 
 \ Then may th’ unbodied soul in safety fleet 
 
 Through the dark curtains of the world above, 
 
 [ Fresh from the stain of crime ; nor fear to meet 
 The God, whom here she would not learn to j 
 love: 
 
 \ Then is there hope for such as die unblest, 
 
 That angel wings may waft them to the shore, 
 
 | Nor need th’ unready virgin strike her breast. 
 
 Nor wait desponding round the bridegroom’s 
 door. 
 
 \ But where is then the stay of contrite hearts ? 
 
 Of old they lean’d on thy eternal word, 
 j But with the sinner’s fear their hope departs, 
 
 Fast link’d as thy great name to Thee, O Lord: 
 
 * Compare Bishop Butler’s Analogy, p. 54 — 64, ed. 
 
 1 1756. < 
 
 t [“ Consider, then, people ruin their fortunes by \ 
 ? extravagance ; they bring diseases upon themselves by 5 
 $ excess ; they incur the penalties of civil laws : will \ 
 < sorrow for these follies past, and behaving well for the l 
 > future, alone and of itself, prevent the natural conse- 
 s quences of them 1” — Butler's Analogy, part ii. c. v. 
 
 \ sec. 4.] 
 
•p 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 95 \ 
 
 < That name, by which thy faithful Oath is pass’d 
 ! That we should endless ,be, for joy or wo : — 
 
 And if the treasures of thy wrath could waste, 
 Thy lovers must their promised heaven forego. 
 
 > But ask of elder days, earth’s vernal hour, 
 
 vV'hen in familiar talk God’s voice was heard, 
 
 \ Wh$n ut the patriarch’s call the fiery shower 
 Propitious o’er the turf-built shrine appear’d. 
 
 > W atch by our father Isaac’s pastoral door— 
 
 1 The birthright sold, the blessing lost and won, 
 
 \ Tell, Heaven has wrath that can relent no more, 
 
 The grave dark deeds that cannot be undone. 
 
 | We barter life for pottage ; sell true bliss 
 
 For wealth or power, for pleasure or renown ; 
 
 \ Thus, Esau-like, our Father’s blessing miss, 
 
 Then wash with fruitless tears our faded crown. ] 
 
 \ Our faded crown, despised and flung aside, 
 
 Shall on some brother’s brow immortal bloom: 
 
 $ No partial hand the blessing may misguide ; 
 
 No flattering fancy change our Monarch’s doom; 
 
 | His righteous doom, that meek true-hearted love 
 i The everlasting birthright should receive, 
 
 < The softest dews drop on her from above,* 
 
 The richest green her mountain garland weave ; ^ 
 
 <! Her brethren, mightiest, wisest, eldest born, 
 
 ( Bow to her sway, and move at her behest : 
 Isaac’s fond blessing may not fall on scorn, 
 
 Nor Balaam’s curse on love, which God hath { 
 
 l 
 
 blest. 
 
 * Genesis xxvii. 27, 28./ 
 
j! 96 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 THE SPOILS OF SATAN. 
 
 When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, hf- ) 
 s goods are in peace. But when a stronger than he shall < 
 i come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh from him ? 
 Sail his armour wherein he trusted, and divideth his 5 
 ] spoil. St. Luke xi. ‘21, 22. [.Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [We beseech thee, Almighty God, look upon the j 
 S hearty desires of thy humble servants, and stretch forth S 
 < the right hand of thy Majesty, to be our defence against \ 
 ^ all our enemies, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 1 \ 
 
 See Lucifer like lightning fall, 
 
 Dash’d from his throne of pride ; 
 
 While, answering Thy victorious call, 
 
 The saints his spoils divide, 
 
 This world of thine, by him usurp’d too long, 
 
 | Now opening all her stores to heal thy servants’ 
 wrong. 
 
 ( So when the first-born of thy foes 
 ) Dead in the darkness lay, 
 
 ? When thy redeem’d at midnight rose 
 / And cast their bonds away, 
 
 , The orphan’d realm threw wide her gates, and j 
 [ told 
 
 $ Into freed Israel’s lap her jewels and her gold. 
 
 And when their wondrous march was o’er, 
 
 And they had won their homes, 
 
 Where Abraham fed his flock of yore. 
 
 Among their fgther’ tombs 
 A land that drinks the rain of heaven at will, 
 
 ; Whose waters kiss the feet of many a vine-clad i 
 hill 
 
•f 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 97 \ 
 
 Oft as they watch’d, at thoughtful eve, 
 
 A gale from bowers of balm 
 Sweep o’er the billowy corn, and heave 
 The tresses of the palm, s 
 
 just as the lingering sun had touch’d with gold, ( 
 l ar o’er the cedar shade, some tower of giants old ; £ 
 
 It was a fearful joy, I ween, ■> 
 
 To trace the heathen’s toil, £ 
 
 The limpid wells, the orchards green £ 
 
 Left ready for the spoil ; 
 
 The household stores untouch’d, the roses bright $ 
 > Wreathed o’er the cottage walls in garlands of ’ 
 delight.* * * § 
 
 And now another Canaan yields 
 To thine all-conquering ark ; — 
 
 Fly from the “ old poetic” fields,! 
 
 Ye Paynim shadows dark ! 
 
 Immortal Greece, dear land of glorious lays, 
 
 \ Lo ! here the “ unknown God” of thy unconscious £ 
 
 • praiselj. 
 
 The olive wreath, the ivied wand, 
 
 “ The sword in myrtles dress’d, ”§ 
 
 * [A most lovely picture of the natural and domestic 
 $ beauties of the land upon which, as in Eden, sin had 
 ( brought down the curse. It is here most skilfully in- 
 > troduced to heighten the contrast.] 
 
 f Where each old poetic mountain 
 
 Inspiration breathed around. Gray. 
 t [As I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I (bund 
 I an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN 
 4 GOD. Jicts xvii. 23.] 
 
 § The famous Athenian drinking song, by Callis- 
 t rat us : — 
 
f 98 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN. LENT. 
 
 Each legend of the shadowy strand 
 Now wakes a vision bless’d ; 
 
 As little children lisp, and tell of heaven, 
 
 So thoughts beyond their thought to those high \ 
 bards were given. 
 
 And these are ours ; Thy partial grace 
 The tempting treasure lends ; 
 
 These relics of a guilty race 
 Are forfeit to thy friends ; 
 
 What seem’d an idol hymn, now breathes of$ 
 Thee, 
 
 Tuned by faith’s ear to some celestial melody. 
 
 There’s not a strain to memory dear* 
 
 Nor flower in classic grove, 
 
 There’s not a sweet note warbled here, 
 
 But minds us of thy love. 
 
 O Lord, our Lord, and spoiler of our foes, 
 
 'i There is no light but thine ; with Thee all beauty } 
 glows. 
 
 j! I’ll wreathe my sword with myrtle as the brave Har- 
 ? modius did, 
 
 5 And as Aristogeiion his avenging weapon hid, 
 c When they slew the haughty tyrant, and regain’d our 
 ) liberty, 
 
 i And breaking down oppression, made the men of 
 
 ' Athens free. G. W. D. 
 
 y See Burns’ Works, i. 2911, Dr. Currie’s edition. 
 [There’s not a bonnie flower that springs 
 By fountain, shaw or green. 
 
 There’s not a bonnie bird that sings, 
 
 But minds me o’ my Jean.] 
 
THE ROSE-BUD. 
 
 Joseph made haste, for his bowels did yearn upon \ 
 i his brother ; and he sought, where to weep ; and he 
 J entered into his chamber, and wept there. Gen. xliii. 5 
 >30. I First Lesson, Morning Service, Church of l 
 } England .] 
 
 There stood no man with them, while Joseph made $ 
 5 himself known unto his brethren. Gen. xlv. 1. [First $ 
 | Lesson, Evening Service, Church of England .] 
 
 [Grant, we beseech thee. Almighty God. that we, < 
 ( who for our evil deeds do worthily deserve to be > 
 ? punished, by the comfort of thy grace may mercifully s 
 5 be relieved, through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus \ 
 £ Christ. Amen.} 
 
 When Nature tries her finest touch, , 
 Weaving her vernal wreath, 
 
 Mark ye, how close she veils her round, 
 
 Not to be traced by sight or sound, 
 
 Nor soiled by ruder breath ? 
 
 Who ever saw the earliest rose 
 First open her sweet breast ? 
 
 Or, when the summer sun goes down, 
 The first soft star in evening’s crown 
 Light up her gleaming crest ? 
 
 Fondly we seek frhe dawning bloom 
 On features wan and fair, — 
 
 The gazing eye no change can trace, 
 But look away a little space, 
 
 Then turn, and, lo ! ’tis there. 
 
j 100 FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 But there’s a sweeter flower than e’er 
 Blush’d on the rosy spray — 
 
 A brighter star, a richer bloom 
 Than e’er did western heaven illume 
 At close of summer day. 
 
 ’Tis love, the last best gift of Heaven ; 
 
 Love gentle, holy, pure ; 
 
 But, tenderer than a dove’s soft eye, 
 
 The searching sun, the open sky 
 She never could endure. 
 
 Even human love will shrink from sight 
 Here in the coarse rude earth ; 
 
 How then should rash intruding glance 
 Break in upon her sacred trance 
 Who boasts a heavenly birth? 
 
 So still and secret is her growth, 
 
 Ever the truest heart, 
 
 Where deepest strikes her kindly root 
 For hope or joy, for flower or fruit, 
 Least knows its happy part. 
 
 God only, and good angels, look 
 Behind the blissful screen — 
 
 As when, triumphant o’er his woes. 
 
 The Son of God by moonlight rose,* 
 
 By all but Heaven unseen ; 
 
 As when the holy maid beheld 
 Her risen Son and Lord; 
 
 Thought has not colours half so fair 
 That she to paint that hour may dare, 
 In silence best adored. 
 
 :T 
 
 , : [It was at the time of the Paschal full moon that { 
 
 > the Saviour rose from the dead.] 
 
FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 101 
 
 The gracious dove, that brought from heaven 
 The earnest of our bliss, 
 
 Of many a chosen witness telling, 
 
 On many a happy vision dwelling, 
 
 Sings not a note of this. 
 
 So, truest image of the Christ, 
 
 Old Israel’s long-lost son, 
 
 What time, with sweet forgiving cheer, 
 
 He called his conscious brethren near, 
 
 Would weep with them alone.* 
 
 He could not trust his melting soul 
 But in his Maker’s sight — 
 
 Then why should gentle hearts and true 
 Bare to the rude world’s withering view 
 Their treasure of delight ! 
 
 No— let the dainty rose awhile 
 Her bashful fragrance hide — 
 
 Rend not her silken veil too soon, 
 
 But leave her, in her own soft noon, 
 
 To flourish and abide. 
 
 „ ; [Genesis xlv. 1. Then Joseph could not refrain l 
 
 > himself before all them that stood by him, and he 5 
 < cried. Cause every man to go out from me : and there i 
 ] stood no man with him, while Joseph made himself ^ 
 5 known unto his brethren.] 
 
 I- 
 
 4 
 
$ 102 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this \ 
 
 < great sight, why the bush is not burned. Exodus iii. 3. > 
 j [First Lesson , Morning Service, Church of England .1 1 
 
 [We beseech thee, Almighty God, mercifully to look < 
 
 < upon thy people ; that by thy great goodness they may t 
 ? be governed and preserved eVermore, both in body and [ 
 \ soul, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Th’ historic muse, from age to age, 
 
 Through many a waste heart-sickening page 
 Hath traced the works of man; 
 
 But a celestial call to-day 
 Stays her, like Moses, on her way, 
 
 The works of God to scan. 
 
 Far seen across the sandy wild, 
 
 Where, like a solitary child, 
 
 He thoughtless roam’d and free, 
 
 One towering thorn* was wrapp’d in flame — 
 Bright without blaze it went and came: 
 
 Who would not turn and see? 
 
 Along the mountain ledges green 
 The scatter’d sheep at will may glean 
 The desert’s spicy stores : 
 
 The while, with undivided heart, 
 
 The shepherd talks with God apart, 
 
 And as he talks, adores. 
 
 * “ Seneh said to be a sort of acacia. 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 103 $ 
 
 Ye too, who tend Christ’s wildering flock, 
 Well may ye gather round the rock 
 That once was Sion’s hill : 
 
 To watch the fire upon the mount 
 Still blazing, like the solar fount, 
 
 Yet unconsuming still. 
 
 Caught from that blaze by wrath divine, 
 Lost branches of the once-loved vine, 
 Now wither’d, spent, and sere, 
 
 See Israel’s sons, like glowing brands, 
 Toss’d wildly o’er a thousand lands 
 For twice a thousand year. 
 
 God will not quench nor slay them quite, 
 But lifts them like a beacon light 
 I’ll’ apostate church to scare : 
 
 Or like pale ghosts that darkling roam. 
 Hovering around their ancient home, 
 
 But find no refuge there. 
 
 Ye blessed angels ! if of you 
 There be, who love the ways to view 
 Of kings and kingdoms here ; 
 
 (And sure, ’tis worth an angel's gaze, 
 
 To see, throughout that dreary maze, 
 
 God teaching love and fear ;) 
 
 O say, in all the bleak expanse, 
 
 Is there a spot to win your glance, 
 
 So bright, so dark as this? 
 
 A hopelqss faith, a homeless race,* 
 
 Yet seeking the most holy place, 
 
 And owning the true bliss! 
 
 ^[The Jews, alluded to in these lines, “a nation j 
 ( scattered and peeled,” without a home in the whole > 
 ; world, of which, as the peculiar people of God, they j 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 104 
 
 s Salted with fire they seem* to show 
 l How spirits lost in endless wo 
 < May undecaying live. 
 
 \ Oh sickening thought! yet hold it fast 
 
 I Long as this glittering world shall last, 
 Or sin at heart survive. 
 
 And hark ! amid the flashing fire, 
 Mingling with tones of fear and ire, 
 
 
Gentiles! with fix’d yet awful eye 
 Turn ye this page of mystery, 
 
 Nor slight the warning sound : 
 
 “ Put off thy shoes from off thy feet — 
 The place where man his God shall meet, 
 Be sure is holy ground.” 
 
 PALM SUNDAY.* 
 
 THE CHILDREN IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 And he answered and said unto them, I tell you, 
 > that if these should hold their peace, the stones would 
 j immediately cry out. — St. Luke xix. 40. 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender 
 5 love towards mankind, hast sent thy Son our Saviour 
 < Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh, and to suffer 
 ) death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow 
 s the example of his great humility; mercifully grant 
 ? that, we may both follow the example of his patience, 
 S and also be made partakers of his resurrection, through 
 ] the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Ye whose hearts are beating high 
 With the pulse of poesy, 
 
 Heirs of more than royal race, 
 
 Framed by Heaven’s peculiar grace, 
 
 God’s own work to do on earth 
 (If the word be not too bold,) 
 
 Giving virtue a new birth, 
 
 And a life that ne*er grows old— 
 
 * [The Sunday next before Easter, so called in refer- ( 
 ? ence to the palm branches thrown before our- Saviour \ 
 S on his way to Jerusalem, five days before his cruci- 
 < fixion.] 
 
I 106 PALM SUNDAY. 
 
 Sovereign masters of all hearts ! 
 
 Know. ye, who hath set your parts? 
 
 He who gave you breath to sing, 
 
 By whose strength ye sweep the string, 
 He h^th chosen you, to lead 
 His hosannas here below; — 
 
 Mount, and claim your glorious meed ; 
 Linger not with sin and wo. 
 
 But if ye should hold your peace, 
 
 Deem not that the song would cease — 
 Angels round His glory-throne, 
 
 Stars, his guiding hand that own, 
 Flowers, that grow beneath our feet, 
 Stones in earth’s dark womb that rest, 
 High and low in choir shall meet, 
 
 Ere His name shall be unblest. 
 
 Lord, by every minstrel tongue 
 Be thy praise so duly sung, 
 
 That thine angels’ harps may ne’er 
 Fail to find fit echoing here : 
 
 We the while, of meaner birth, 
 
 Who in that divinest spell 
 Dare not hope to join on earth, 
 
 Give us grace to listen well. 
 
 But should thankless silence seal 
 Lips, that might half heaven reveal, 
 Should bards in idol-hymns profane 
 The sacred soul-enthralling strain, 
 
 (As in this bad world below 
 
 Noblest things find vilest using,) 
 
 Then, thy power and mercy show, 
 
 In vile things noble breath infusing ; 
 
 Then .waken into sound divine 
 The very pavement of thy shrine, 
 
 :! 
 
Till we, like heaven’s star-sprinkled floor, 
 Faintly give back what we adore. 
 Child-like though the voices be. 
 
 And untunable the parts, 
 
 Thou wilt own the minstrelsy, 
 
 If it flow from child-like hearts. 
 
 MONDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 CHRIST WAITING FOR THE CROSS. 
 
 , Doubtless Thou art our Father, though Abraham be 
 > ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us nut. Isaiah 
 J Ixiii. 16. [ Portion of Scripture appointed for the 
 
 ; Epistle in the Service for the Day.] 
 
 ‘ Father to me thou art, and mother dear, 
 
 And brother too, kind husband of my heart !”* 
 
 \ So speaks Andromache in boding fear, 
 
 ! Ere from her last embrace hlr hero part : 
 
 ; So evermore, by faith’s undying glow, 
 j We own the Crucified in weal or wo. 
 
 ; Strange to our ears the church-bells of our home, 
 j The fragrance of our old paternal fields 
 ! May be forgotten ; and the time may come 
 
 When the babe’s kiss no sense of pleasure yields 
 ! Even to the doting mother: but thine own 
 ! Thou never canst forget or leave alone. 
 
 * [Yet while my Hector still survives, I see 
 My father, mother, brethren, all in thee : 
 Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all 
 Once more will perish, if my Hector fall. 
 
 Iliad, vi. 429. Pope's Version, vi. 544.] 
 
•f*' 
 
 1 108 
 
 MONDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 > There are who sigh that no fond heart is theirs, 
 
 5 None loves them best — O vain and selfish sigh! 
 s Out of the bosom of His love He spares — 
 
 \ The Father spares the Son, for thee to die : 
 
 ] For thee He died — for thee He lives again : 
 
 ( O’er thee He watches in His boundless reign. 
 
 \ Thou art as much His care, as if beside 
 
 Nor man nor angel lived in heaver? or earth: 
 
 ^ Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide 
 To light up worlds, or wake an insect’s mirth: 
 
 ] They shine and shine with unexhausted store ; 
 i Thou art thy Saviour’s darling— seek no more. 
 
 \ On thee and thine, thy warfare and thine end, 
 Even in His hour of agony He thought, 
 
 [ When, ere the final pang His soul should rend, 
 
 The ransom’d spirits one by one were brought 
 | To his mind’s eye— two silent nights and days* 
 
 In calmness for His far seen hour He stays. 
 
 Ye vaulted cells, wfhere martyr’d seers of old 
 ! Far in the rocky walls of Sion sleep; 
 
 ] Green terraces and arched fountains cold, 
 
 Where lies the cypress shade so still and deep; 
 
 ! Dear sacred haunts of glory and of wo, 
 
 \ Help us, one hour, to trace His musings high and j 
 low : 
 
 | One heart-ennobling hour ! It may not be- 
 
 Th’ unearthly thoughts have pass’d from earth ^ 
 away, 
 
 l And fast as evening sunbeams from the sea 
 Thy footsteps all in Sion’s deep decay 
 
 * In Passion week, from Tuesday evening to Thurs- 5 
 < day evening : during which time Scripture seems to be < 
 ? nearly silent concerning our Saviour’s proceedings. ( 
 
MONDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 109 < 
 
 | Were blotted from the holy ground ; yet dear 
 
 > Is every stone of hers ; for Thou wast surely here.* $ 
 
 } There is a spot within this sacred dale 
 
 That felt Thee kneeling — touch’d Thy prostrate ^ 
 brow ; 
 
 $ One angel knows it. O might prayer avail 
 To win that knowledge ! sure each holy vow 
 Less quickly from th’ unstable soul would fade, 
 Offer’d where Christ in agony was laid. 
 
 ; Might tear of ours once mingle with the blood 
 That from His aching brow by moonlight fell, 
 
 \ Over the mournful joy our thoughts would brood, 
 Till they had framed within a guardian spell 
 | To chase repining fancies, as they rise, 
 
 > Like birds of evil wing, to mar our sacrifice. 
 
 * [’Tis sweet to Him who treasures love divine, 
 
 The coasts with zeal of palmer old to trace, 
 
 Hills, vales, and streams of holy Palestine, 
 
 And mark in every ancient hallow’d place 
 What rays of glory wont of old to shine. 
 
 What acts of wonder, and what words of grace : 
 How here the mourner heard glad news of rest, 
 
 Here the deaf ear the Saviour’s presence bless’a, 
 
 ^ The sightless eye beheld, the speechless tongue con- 
 fess’d. 
 
 And sweet to them whose bounded lot at home 
 Constrains their steps in quietude to stray, 
 
 Yea, sweet it is to them, afar to roam 
 In thought, companions of the palmer’s way, 
 
 And to the mother land of Christendom 
 The debt of more than patriot fondness pay, — 
 
 If Judah’s palmy hills their sojourn be. 
 
 Or Jordan’s flood, or lone Tiberias’ sea, 
 
 \ Or thy once glorious towns, thrice favour’d Galilee ! 
 
 Bishop Mant, Gospel Miracles , y>. 120.] 
 
f 110 
 
 TUESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 > So dreams the heart self-flattering, fondly dreams ; 
 
 ; Else wherefore, when the bitter waves o’erflow, \ 
 ! Miss we the light, Gethsemane, that streams 
 From thy dear name, where in His, page of wo 
 ! It shines, a pale kind star in winter’s sky? 
 
 ; Who vainly reads it there, in vain had seen Him \ 
 die. 
 
 TUESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 CHRIST REFUSING THE WINE AND MYRRH. 
 
 They gave him to drink wine mingled with myrrh ; \ 
 \ but he received it not. St. Mark xv.23. Gospel for £ 
 I the Day .1 
 
 “Fill high the bowl, and spice it well, and pour 
 The dews oblivious ; for the cross is sharp, 
 
 The cross is sharp, and He 
 Is tenderer than a lamb. 
 
 He wept by Lazarus’ grave— how will He bear 
 This bed of anguish ? and His pale weak form 
 Is worn with many a watch 
 Of sorrow and unrest. 
 
 His sweat last night was as great drops of blood, 
 And the sad burden press’d him so to earth, 
 
 The very torturers paused 
 To help Him on His way. 
 
 Fill high the bowl, benumb His aching sense 
 With medicined sleep.”— Oh awful in thy wo ! 
 
 The parching thirst of death 
 Is on Thee, and thou triest 
 
TUESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 > The slumberous potion bland, and wilt not drink : [ 
 
 > Not sullen, nor in scorn, like haughty man 
 With suicidal hand 
 Putting his solace by: 
 
 l But as at first thine all-pervading look 
 [ Saw from thy Father’s bosom to th’ abyss. 
 Measuring in calm presage 
 The infinite descent ; 
 
 ^ So to the end, though now of mortal pangs 
 
 > Made heir, and emptied of thy glory awhile 
 With unaverted eye 
 Thou meetest all the storm. 
 
 > Thou wilt feel all, that thou may’st pity all ;* 
 
 And rather wouldst Thou wrestle with strong 
 
 pain, 
 
 Than overcloud thy soul, 
 
 So clear in agony, 
 
 > Or lose one glimpse of heaven hefore thq time. 
 
 > O most entire and perfect sacrifice, 
 
 Renew’d in every pulse 
 That on the tedious cross 
 
 l Told the long hours of death, as, one by one. 
 
 The life-strings of that tender heart gave way; 
 Even Sinners, taught by Thee, 
 
 Look sorrow in the face, 
 
 J And bid her freely welcome, unbeguiled 
 ; By false kind solaces, and spells of earth: — 
 
 And yet. not all unsoothed : 
 
 For when was joy so dear, « 
 
 " [“ For in that he himself hath suffered, being $ 
 c tempted, he is able to succour them also that are t 
 > tempted .” — Hebrews ii. 18.] ' 
 
112 WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 As the deep calm that breathed, “ Father, for- 
 give, ’* 
 
 Or, “Be with me in Paradise to-day?” 
 
 And, though the strife be sore, 
 
 Yet in His parting breath 
 
 Love masters agony ; the soul that seem’d 
 Forsaken, feels her present God again, 
 
 And in her Father’s arms 
 Contented dies away. 
 
 WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup 
 > from me: nevertheless, not my will, but thine bedone. 
 < St. Luke xxii. 42. [Gospel for the Day.'] 
 
 \ O Lord my God, do Thou thy holy will— 
 
 \ I will lie still — 
 
 | I will not stir, lest I forsake thine arm, 
 
 ' And break the charm 
 
 * Which lulls me, clinging to my Father’s breast, 
 i In perfect rest. 
 
 Wild Fancy, peace ! thou must not me beguile 
 With thy false smile; 
 
 I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways; 
 Be silent, Praise, 
 
 Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all 
 That hear thy call. 
 
 Thoughts that in thankfulness endure, 
 
 
 
WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 113 i 
 
 Though dearest hopes are faithless found 
 And dearest hearts are bursting round. 
 
 Coine, Resignation, spirit meek, 
 
 And let me kiss thy placid cheek, 
 
 And read in thy pale eye serene 
 Their blessing, who by faith can wean 
 Their hearts from sense, and learn to love 
 God only, and the joys above. 
 
 They say, who know the life divine, 
 
 And upward gaze with eagle eyne, 
 
 That by each golden crown on high,* 
 
 Rich with celestial jewelry, 
 
 Which for our Lord’s redeem’d is set, 
 
 There hangs a radiant coronet, 
 
 All gemm’d with pure and living light, 
 
 Too dazzling for a sinner’s sight. 
 
 Prepared for virgin souls, and them 
 Who seek the martyr’s diadem. 
 
 Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, 
 
 Must win their way through blood and fire. 
 
 The writhings of a wounded heart 
 Are fiercer than a foeman’s dart. 
 
 Oft in life’s stillest shade reclining, 
 
 In desolation unrepining, 
 
 Without a hope on earth to find 
 A mirror in an answering mind, 
 
 Meek souls there are, who little dream 
 Their daily strife an angel’s theme, 
 
 , That little coronet or special reward \ 
 
 3 which God hath prepared (extraordinary and besides) 
 
 < the great crown of all faithful souls) for those “ who < 
 ) have not defiied themselves with women, but follow > 
 ) the [virgin] Lamb for ever ."—Bishop Taylor, Holy < 
 
 < Living, c. xi. sect. 3. 
 
 8 
 
Or that the rod they take so calm 
 Shall prove in heaven a martyr’s palm. 
 
 And there are souls that seem to dwell 
 Above this earth— so rich a spell 
 Floats round their steps, where’er they move, 
 From hopes fulfill’d and mutual love. 
 
 Such, if on high their thoughts are set, 
 
 Nor in the stream the source forget, 
 
 If prompt to quit the bliss they know. 
 Following the Lamb where’er he go, 
 
 By purest pleasures un beguiled 
 To idolize or wife Or child ; 
 
 Such wedded souls our God shall own 
 For faultless virgins round his throne. 
 
 [ Thus every where we find our suffering God, 
 
 ; And where He trod 
 
 ; May set our steps : the cross on Calvary 
 Uplifted high 
 
 [ Beams on the martyr host, a beacon-light 
 In open fight. 
 
 > To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart 
 
 > He doth impart 
 
 \ The virtue of His midnight agony, 
 l When none was nigh, 
 
 > Save God and one good angel, to assuage 
 
 The tempest’s rage. 
 
 • Mortal! if life smile on thee, and thou find 
 All to thy mind, 
 
 ( Think, who did once from heaven to hell descend £ 
 Thee to befriend : 
 l So shalt thou dare forego, at His dear call, 
 
 Thy best, thine all. 
 
 O Father ! not my will, but thine be done”— 
 
 So spake the Son. 
 

 THURSDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 115 
 
 
 l Be this our charm, mellowing earth’s ruder noise < 
 Of griefs and joys ; 
 
 That we may cling for ever to thy breast 
 In perfect rest! 
 
 THURSDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 THE VISION OF THE LATTER DAYS. 
 
 t At the beginning of thy supplications the command- 
 
 < ment came forth, and I am come to show thee, for thou s 
 £ art greatly beloved ; therefore understand the matter, < 
 
 < and consider the vision. Daniel ix. 23. [ First Morn - > 
 \ ing Lesson , Church of England .] 
 
 “O holy mountain of my God, 
 
 How do thy towers in ruin lie ; 
 
 How art thou riven and strewn abroad, 
 
 Under the rude and wasteful sky !” 
 
 ’Twas thus upon his fasting-day 
 The “ man of loves” was fain to pray,* 
 
 His lattice openf towards his darling west, 
 
 > Mourning the fum'd home he still must love the \ 
 best. 
 
 Oh for a love like Daniel’s now, 
 
 To wing to Heaven but one strong prayer 
 For God’s new Israel, sunk as low, 
 
 Yet flourishing to sight as fair 
 As Sion in her height of pride, 
 
 With queens for handmaids at her side, 
 
 With kings her nursing-fathers, throned high, 
 
 \ And compass’d with the world’s too tempting / 
 blazonry. 
 
 * [“O Daniel, a man greatly beloved Hebrew, ] 
 ] a man of desires, or loves. Daniel x. 11.] 
 t Daniel vi. 10. 
 
116 THURSDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 ’Tis true, nor winter stays thy growth, 
 
 Nor torrid summer’s sickly smile ; 
 
 The flashing billows of the south 
 Break not upon so lone an isle, 
 
 But thou, rich vine, art grafted there, 
 
 The fruit of death or life to bear, 
 
 Yielding a surer witness every day, 
 
 \ To thine almighty Author, and his steadfast sway. $ 
 Oh grief to think, that grapes of gall 
 Should cluster round thine healthiest shoot ! 
 God’s herald prove a heartless thrall, 
 
 Who, if he dared, would fain be mute ! 
 
 Even such is this bad world we see. 
 
 Which, self-condemn’d in owning thee. 
 
 Yet dares not open farewell of thee take, 
 
 \ For very pride, and her high-boasted reason’s $ 
 sake. 
 
 What do we then ? if far and wide 
 Men kneel to Christ, the pure and meek, 
 
 Yet rage with passion, swell with pride, 
 
 Have we not still our faith to seek ? 
 
 Nay — but in steadfast humbleness 
 Kneel on to Him, who loves to bless 
 The prayer that waits for Him ; and trembling l 
 strive < 
 
 \ To keep the lingering flame in thine own breast | 
 alive. 
 
 Dark frown’d the future even on him, 
 
 The lovihg and beloved seer. 
 
 What time he saw, through shadows dim, 
 
 The boundary of th’ eternal year ; 
 
 He only of the sons of men 
 Named to be heir of glory then.* 
 
 * Dan. xii. 13. See Bishop Kenn’s Sermon on the > 
 \ Character of Daniel. < 
 
Else had it braised too sore his tender heart > 
 To see God’s ransom’d world in wrath and flame j 
 depart. j 
 
 [“All these wonderful vouchsafements from above to 
 Daniel, though they were most illustrious demon- l 
 s; rations that he was greatly beloved , yet they were $ 
 indulged him for the sake of others, as well as for his < 
 own. There is therefore one more illustrious than all \ 
 these, and that is a favour which God bestows on but s 
 very few, and on none but great saints, who are j 
 greatly beloved ; and not usually on them, till near | 
 their death, and is the very top blessing of which man \ 
 is capable in this life, the highest bliss on this side of > 
 heaven ; and that is an absolute assurance of a glorious s 
 immortality; and such an assurance as this had the £ 
 beloved Daniel : for the angel, having discoursed to > 
 him of the resurrection of those that sleep in the dust, l 
 and of their awaking to everlasting life, adds, Go ) 
 thy way till the end be : for thou shalt rest, and s 
 stand in the lot at the euil of the days. O the un- ? 
 
 > utterable felicity of this man, thus greatly beloved by S 
 \ God! whilst the generality of saints sigh under their flesh < 
 J and blood, which clogs, and loads, and depresses them ; ; 
 
 > whilst the penitent are still begging their pardon, and ( 
 | the humble full of fears and misgivings, by reason of ) 
 
 > their numerous failings : while the best of them all see ) 
 ; heaven only through a glass darkly, and at a distances < 
 
 andean reach no higher in this world than hope, and j 
 desire, and reliance on God’s promise, and patient ex- 
 , pectation ; Daniel, the man greatly beloved, has an 
 
 > angel sent on purpose by God, to assure him of his lot 5 
 | in a glorious eternity, and that his mansion there was < 
 
 ; prepared and brightened to receive him. And yet this j 
 , is not all ; Daniel was not only assured of future glory, < 
 
 J but of a greater degree of glory than others had: for ? 
 
 > having made it his great business here below to love 5 
 J God himself, and greatly to love him, and to excite ) 
 
 > others to love God as greatly as he loved him, he was ; 
 
 > to have more sublime exaltation in bliss than ordinary; | 
 ! the greater his love was, the nearer was he to be < 
 
 seated to the throne of God his beloved ; and having 
 ( turned many to righteousness, he was to shine as the < 
 
! 118 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 Then look no more : or closer watch 
 Thy course in earth’s bewildering ways, 
 
 For every glimpse thine eye can catch 
 Of what shall be in those dread days : 
 
 So when th’ archangel’s word is spoken. 
 
 And death’s deep trance for ever broken, 
 
 In mercy thou may’st feel the heavenly hand, 
 j And in thy lot unharm’d before thy Saviour j 
 stand.* 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY.t 
 
 He is despised and rejected of men. — Isaiah liii. j 
 \ 3. [ First Evening Lesson .] 
 
 [Almighty God, we beseech thee graciously to behold i 
 2 this thy family, for which our Lord Jesus Christ was < 
 $ contented to be betrayed, and given up into the hands > 
 ] of wicked men, and to suffer death upon the cross, £ 
 
 > who now liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy 2 
 £ Ghost, ever one God.Avorld without end. Amen. 
 
 Almighty and everlasting God, by whose spirit the 
 S whole body of the Church is governed and sanctified ; 
 
 < receive our supplications and prayers, which we offer 
 
 > before thee for all estates of men in thy holy Church, 
 l that every member of the same, in his vocation and 
 i ministry, may truly and godly serve thee, through our 
 ) Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen. 
 
 ( stars for ever and ever.''' — A short Account of the 
 ? Life of the Rt. Rev. Father in God , Thomas Kenn, 
 ^ D. D. By W. Hawkins, Esq. London, 1713, 12 m/). 
 
 * Dan. xii. 13. Thou shaltrest, and stand in thy lot 
 £ at the end of the days. 
 
 . t [The most solemn fast of the Christian Church, 
 J observed in commemoration of her Saviour’s crucifix- 
 > ion, making atonement for the sins of men.] 
 
GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 O merciful G<xi, who hast made all men, and hatest ( 
 nothing that thou hast made, nor desirest the death of! 
 a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and \ 
 live; have mercy upon all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and ; 
 Heretics; and take from them all ignorance, hardness 
 of heart, and contempt of thy word ; and so fe ch them ' 
 home, blessed Lord, to thy flock, that they may be ( 
 saved among the remnant of the true Israelites, and ' 
 be made one fold under one Shepherd, Jesus Christ r 
 our Lord, who hveth and reigneth with thee and the i 
 Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. jirnen.] ( 
 
 Is it not strange, the darkest hour ] 
 
 That ever dawn’d on sinful earth 
 Should touch the heart with softer power \ 
 For comfort, than an angel’s mirth? 
 
 That to the cross the mourner’s eye should turn < 
 Sooner than whejre t he stars of Christmas burn ? £ 
 
 Sooner than where the Foster sun \ 
 
 Shines glorious on yon open grave, < 
 
 And to and fro the tidings run, < 
 
 “ Who died to heal, is risen to save” — < 
 
 Sooner than where upon the Saviour’s friends £ 
 The very Comforter in light and love descends? l 
 
 Yet so it is : for duly there \ 
 
 The bitter herbs of earth are set, 
 
 Till, temper’d by the Saviour’s prayer, < 
 
 And with the Saviour’s life-blood wet, j 
 They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm, \ 
 Soft as imprison’d martyr’s death-bed calm. ? 
 
 That bitterest to the lip of pride, 
 
 When hopes presumptuous fade and fall, 
 
 Or friendship scorns us„duly tried, 
 
 Or love, the flower that closes up for fear 
 When rude and selfish spirits breathe too near. 
 
 All turn to sweet— but most of all 
 
120 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 Then. like a long-forgotten strain, 
 
 Comes sweeping o’er the heart forlorn 
 
 What sunshine hours had taught in vain 
 Of Jesus suffering shame and scorn, 
 j As in all lowly hearts he suffers still, 
 
 ; While we triumphant ride, and have the world at 
 will. 
 
 His pierced hands in vain would hide 
 His face from rude reproachful gaze; 
 
 His ears tjre open to abide 
 The wildest storm the tongue can raise ; 
 
 : He who with one rough word,* some early day,f 
 > Their idol world and them shall sweep for aye 
 away. 
 
 But we by fancy may assuage 
 The festering sore by fancy made, 
 
 Down in some lonely hermitage 
 Like wounded pilgrims safely 1 a i 1 , - 
 Where gentlest breezes whisper souls distress’d, 
 That love yet lives, and patience shall find rest. 
 
 Oh ! shame beyond the bitterest thought 
 That evil spirit ever framed, 
 
 That sinners know what Jesus wrought, 
 
 Yet feel their haughty hearts untamed — 
 
 * Wisdom of Solomon xii. 9. 
 t [“ Nevertheless, even those thou sparedst as men, j 
 and didst send wasps, forerunners of thine host, to i 
 destroy them by little and little. Not that thou wast 5 
 unable to bring the ungodly under the hand of the < 
 righteous in battle, or to destroy them at once with 
 cruel beasts, or with one rough word: but executing j 
 thy judgments upon them by little and little, thou j 
 gavest them place of repentance.’* Wisdom of Solo- 
 mon xii. 8, 9, 10.] 
 
EASTER EVE. 
 
 EASTER EVE. 121 j 
 
 l That souls in refuge, holding by the cross, 
 l Should wince and fret at this world’s little loss. 
 
 Lord of my heart, by thy last cry, 
 
 Let not thy blood on earth be spent — 
 
 Lo, at thy feet I fainting lie, 
 
 Mine eyes upon thy wounds are bent ; 
 l Upon thy streaming wounds my weary eyes 
 ; Wait like the parched earth on April skies. 
 
 Wash me, and dry these bitter tears, 
 
 O let my heart no further roam ; 
 
 ’Tis thine by vows, and hopes, and fears, 
 
 Long since — O call thy wanderer home — 
 l To that dear home, safe in thy woundeu side, 
 
 ) Where only broken hearts their sin and shame \ 
 may hide. 
 
 EASTER EVE. 
 
 As for thee also, by the blood of thy covenant I have J 
 > sent forth thy prisoners out of the pit wherein is no ] 
 ] water. Zech. ix. 11. [ First Morning Lesson.] 
 
 [Grant, O Lord, that as we are baptized into the j! 
 death of thy blessed Son our Saviour Jesus Christ, so 1 
 by continual mortifying our corrupt affections, we may 
 be buried with him ; and that through the grave and 
 gate of death we may pass to our joyful resurrection, 
 for his merits, who died, and was buried, and rose j 
 again for us, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 At length the worst is o’er, and Thou art laid 
 Deep in thy darksome bed ; 
 
 All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone 
 Thy sacred form is gone ; 
 
122 
 
 EASTER EYE. 
 
 Around those lips where power and mercy hung, ? 
 
 The dews of death have clung ; £ 
 
 The dull earth o’er Thee and thy foes around, 
 
 > Thou sleep’st a silent corse, in funeral fetters | 
 wound. 
 
 Sleep’st Thou indeed? or is thy spirit fled, 
 
 At large among the dead ? 
 
 Whether in Eden bowers thy welcome voice 
 Wake Abraham to rejoice, 
 
 Or in some drearier scene thine eye controls 
 The thronging band of souls ;* 
 
 That, as thy blood won earth, thine agony 
 ! Might set the shadowy realm from sin and sorrow ; 
 free. 
 
 Where’er Thou roam’st, one happy soul, we > 
 know,f 
 
 Seen at thy side in wo,} 
 
 Waits on thy triumph— even as all the blest 
 With him and Thee shall rest. 
 
 Each on his cross, by 'I'hee we hang awhile, 
 Watching thy patient smile, 
 
 Till we have (earn’d to say, “ ’Tis justly done, 
 
 ! Only in glory, Lord, thy sinful servant own.” 
 
 * [Easter Eve commemorates the period between > 
 ( the death of Jesus and his resurrection. For the allu- \ 
 £ sion here, see Bishop Horsley on 1 Peter iii. 18, 19 — ? 
 \ “ Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the > 
 ? Spirit, by which, also, he went and preached unto the l 
 S spirits in prison.”] 
 
 t [The penitent thief. “To-day shalt thou be with [ 
 I me in paradise.” St. Luke xxiii. 43.J 
 
 £ } St. Luke xxiii. 43. 
 
EASTER EVE. 
 
 123 
 
 Soon wilt Thou take us to thy tranquil bower 
 To rest one little hour, 
 
 Till thine elect are number’d, and the grave 
 Call Thee to come and save ; 
 
 Then on thy bosom borne shall we descend, 
 Again with earth to blend, 
 
 Earth all refined with bright supernal fires, 
 
 | Tinctured with holy blood, and wing’d with pure 
 desires. 
 
 Meanwhile with every son and saint of thine 
 Along the glorious line, 
 
 Sitting by turns beneath thy sacred feet, 
 
 We'll hold communion sweet, 
 
 Know them by look and voice, and thank them \ 
 all 
 
 For helping us in thrall, 
 
 For words of hope, and bright examples given 
 \ To show through moonless skies that there is [ 
 light in heaven. 
 
 O come that day, when in this restless heart 
 Earth shall resign her part, 
 
 When in the grave with Thee my limbs shall \ 
 rest, 
 
 My soul with Thee be bless’d ! 
 
 But stay, presumptuous — Christ with thee $ 
 abides 
 
 In the rock’s dreary sides ; 
 
 He from the stone will wring celestial dew, 
 
 > If but the prisoner’s heart be faithful found and l 
 true. 
 
 When tears are spent, and thou art left alone 
 With ghosts of blessings gone, 
 
 Think thou art taken from the cross, and laid 
 In Jesus’s burial shade; 
 
 4 - 
 
124 
 
 EASTER DAY. 
 
 -+ 
 
 Take Moses’ rod, the rod of prayer, and call 
 Out of the rocky wall 
 The fount of holy blood ; and lift on high 
 Thy grovelling soul, that feels so desolate and dry. 
 
 Prisoner of hope thou art*— look up and sing 
 In hope of promised spring. 
 
 As in the pit his father’s darling layf 
 Beside the desert way, 
 
 And knew not how, but knew his God would 
 
 Even from that living grave, 
 
 So, buried with our Lord, we’ll close our eyes 
 To the decaying world, till angels bid us rise. 
 
 And as 
 faces to 
 ye the In 
 is risen.— 
 
 * Zechi 
 prisoners 
 t Gen. : 
 a pit, and 
 1 Easte 
 rise , is th< 
 rates the 
 It is alwa 
 which im 
 the vernal 
 regulates 
 not be ear 
 25th of A 
 
 save 
 
 TPAorp-ni-D n a v + 
 
 •f 
 
EASTER DAY. 
 
 125 ] 
 
 LAImighty God, who through thine only begotten $ 
 Son Jesus Christ hast overcome death, and opened i 
 
 > unto us the gate of everlasting life ; we humbly l 
 J beseech thee, that as, by thy special grace preventing > 
 
 > us, thou dost put into our minds good desires: so by < 
 ! thy continual help we may bring the same to good £ 
 ? effect, through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and £ 
 l reignefh with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, 
 
 \ world without end. Amen.] 
 
 Oh day of days!* shall hearts set free 
 No “ minstrel rapture” find for thee ? 
 
 Thou art the sun of other days, 
 
 They shine by giving back thy rays : 
 
 Enthroned in thy sovereign sphere, 
 
 Thou shedd’st thy light on all the year: 
 Sundays by thee more glorious break, 
 
 An Easter day in every week :\ 
 
 And week-days following in their train, 
 
 The fulness of thy blessing gain, 
 
 Till all, both resting and employ, 
 
 Be one Lord s day of holy joy 4 
 
 Then wake, my soul, to high desires, § 
 
 And earlier light thine altar fires: 
 
 * [Easter was anciently called the Great Day, the j 
 Feast of feasts, and the Queen of feasts.] 
 
 , f [The first day of the week, Sunday, being hallowed | 
 > from the apostles’ times, as commemorative of the ? 
 ! resurrection, is, as it were, a weekly Easter.] 
 
 t [“ Can there be any day but this, 
 
 Though many suns to shine endeavour 1 
 We count three hundred ; but we miss : 
 
 There is but one ; and that one, ever." 
 
 “Easter," by George Herbert.] 
 
 § [“ Rise, heart ; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise 
 Without delays 
 
! 126 EASTER .DAY. 
 
 The world some hours is on her way, 
 
 Nor thinks on thee, thou blessed day.* 
 
 Or, if she think, it is in scorn : 
 
 The vernal light of Easter morn 
 To her dark gaze no brighter seems 
 Than reason’s or the law’s pale beams. 
 
 “ Where is your Lord ?” she scornful asks : 
 “ Where is his hire ? we know his tasks ; 
 Sons of a king ye boast to be ; 
 
 Let us your crowns and treasures see.” 
 
 We in the words of truth reply, 
 
 (An angel brought them from the sky,) 
 
 “ Our crown, our treasure is not here, 
 
 ’Tis stored above the highest sphere. 
 
 Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise 
 With him mayest rise.” 
 
 “ Easter," by George Herbert .] 
 
 , * [“ It is Easter, beautiful Easter. The time in all | 
 
 > the year when nature’s types most clearly shadow forth j 
 ! the realities of the Christian dispensation. For the > 
 
 > first butterfly has burst from its grave-clothes, and is < 
 gone up towards heaven in the light of this season ; ) 
 
 \ and look ! a thousand blossoms hang on branches that s 
 
 > were to all appearance dead last week— nay ! that but l 
 i fortnight ago were bending beneath a heavy load of > 
 
 > snow ; and see how the chestnut buds, wrapped up as l 
 
 > they were by God’s own hand with inimitable art, fold ? 
 I within fold, have heard the voice of God in the garden, < 
 
 and burst their cerements, and sprung forth in beauty, i 
 
 > exulting in the life He has renewed to them. And the < 
 
 > primroses too are up, round the foot of the old cross, < 
 
 > and the daisies and the cuckoo-flowers are awake, < 
 \ and, rising out of their graves under every hedge, tell < 
 
 > their tale of hope and the resurrection.” Scenes in our < 
 
 > Parish , by a Country Parson's Daughter .] 
 
EASTER DAY. 
 
 127 
 
 Methinks your wisdom guides amiss, 
 
 To seek on earth a Christian’s bliss ; 
 
 We watch not now the lifeless stone ; 
 
 Our only Lord is risen and gone.” 
 
 Yet even the lifeless stone is dear 
 For thoughts of him who late lay here ; 
 And the base world, now Christ hath died. 
 Ennobled is and glorified. 
 
 No more a charnel-house, to fence 
 The relics of lost innocence, 
 
 A vault of ruin and decay; 
 
 Th’ imprisoning stone is roll’d away. 
 
 ’Tis now a cell, where angels use 
 To come and go with heavenly news, 
 
 And in the ears of mourners say, 
 
 “ Come see the place where Jesus lay 
 
 ’Tis now a fane, where love can find 
 Christ every where embalm’d and shrined; 
 Aye gathering up memorials sweet. 
 Where’er she sets her duteous feet. 
 
 Oh ! joy to Mary first allow’d, 
 
 When roused from weeping o’er his shroud, 
 By his own calm, soul-soothir^ tone, 
 Breathing her name, as still his own ! 
 
 Joy to the faithful three renew’d, 
 
 As their glad errand they pursued! 
 
 Happy, who so Christ’s word convey, 
 
 That he may meet them on their way ! 
 
 So is it still ; to holy tears, 
 
 In lonely hours, Christ risen appears; 
 
 In social hours, who Christ would see, 
 
 Must turn all tasks to charity. 
 
>128 
 
 MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 ST. PETER AND CORNELIUS. 
 
 Of a truth, I perceive that God is no respecter of \ 
 
 > persons ; but in every nation he that fearelh him and < 
 £ worketh righteousness is accepted with him. Acts x. i 
 
 < 34 , 35. [Scripture appointed as the Epistle for the ] 
 ; Day.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who through thine only begotten 
 
 > Son Jesus Christ hast overcome death, and opened 
 ] unto us the gate of everlasting life ; we humbly beseech 
 i thee, that as, by thy special grace preventing us, thou 
 S dost put into our minds good desires ; so by thy con- 
 
 < tinual help we may bring the same to good effect, 
 
 \ through Jesus Christ our Lord ; who liveth and 
 s reign^th with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, 
 
 ? world without end. Amen.] 
 
 Go up and watch the new-born rill 
 Just trickling from its mossy bed, 
 
 ( Streaking the heath-clad hill 
 
 With a bright emerald thread. 
 
 Canst thou her bold career foretell, 
 
 What rocks she shall o’erleap or rend, 
 
 How far in ocean’s swell 
 Her freshening billows send? 
 
 Perchance that little brook shall flow 
 The bulwark of soipe mighty realm, 
 
 Bear navies to and fro 
 With monarchs at their helm. 
 
 Or canst thou guess, how far away 
 Some sister nymph, beside her urn 
 Reclining night and day, 
 
 ’Mid reeds and mountain fern, 
 
MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 129 
 
 Nurses her store, with thine to blend 
 When many a moor and glen are past, 
 Then in the wide sea end 
 Their spotless lives at last ? 
 
 Even so, the course of prayer who knows ? 
 It springs in silence where it will, 
 
 Springs out of sight, and flows 
 At first a lonely rill : 
 
 But streams shall meet it by and by 
 From thousand sympathetic hearts, 
 Together swelling high 
 Their chant of many parts. 
 
 Unheard by all but angel ears 
 The good Cornelius knelt alone, 
 
 Nor dreamjd his prayers and tears 
 Would help a world undone. 
 
 The while upon his terraced roof 
 The loved apostle to his Lord 
 In silent thought aloof 
 For heavenly vision soar’d. 
 
 Far o’er the glowing western main* 
 
 His wistful brow was upward raised, 
 Where, like an angel’s train, 
 
 The burnish’d water blazed. 
 
 The, saint beside the ocean pray’d, 
 
 The soldier in his chosen bower, 
 
 Where all his eye survey’d 
 Seem’d sacred in that hour.t 
 
 * [Peter was at Joppa, on the eastern shore of the \ 
 
 ; Mediterranean.] 
 
 t [“The sacred peacefulness of prayer.” Bishop < 
 ^ Mant , Gospel Miracles, 2. 32.] ^ 
 
 9 
 

 130 
 
 TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 To each unknown his brother’s prayer,* 
 Yet brethren true in dearest love 
 Were they — and now they share 
 Fraternal joys above. 
 
 There tiaily through Christ’s open gate 
 They see the Gentile spirits press, 
 Brightening their high estate 
 With dearer happiness. 
 
 What civic wreath for comrades saved 
 Shone ever with such deathless gleam, 
 Or when did perils braved 
 So sweet to veterans seem ? 
 
 TUESDAY IN EASTEB WEES'. 
 
 THE SNOW-DROP. 
 
 And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with c 
 
 < fear and great joy, and did run to bring His disciples \ 
 / word. St. Matthew xxviii. 8. 
 
 j [Almighty God, who through thine only begotten $ 
 5 Son Jesus Christ hast overcome death, and opened < 
 
 < unto us the gate of everlasting life ; we humbly beseech j 
 ) thee, that as, by thy special grace preventing us, thou 
 
 t dost put into our minds good desires ; so by thy con- 
 tinual help we may bring the same to good effect. 
 
 | through Jesus Christ our Lord ; who liveth and < 
 ( reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, « 
 £ world without, end. Amen . ] 
 
 r [See the beautiful story of Cornelius, in Acts.,x.] 
 
TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 131 j 
 
 Thou first-born of the year’s delight,* 
 
 Pride of the dewy glade, 
 
 In vernal green and virgin white, 
 
 Thy vestal robes array’d ; 
 
 ’Tis not because thy drooping form 
 Sinks graceful on its nest, 
 
 When chilly shades from gathering storm 
 Affright thy tender breast; 
 
 Nor for yon river islet wild 
 Beneath the willow spray, 
 
 Where, like the ringlets of a child, 
 
 Thou weavest thy circle gay ; 
 
 ’Tis not for these I love thee dear 
 Thy shy averted smiles 
 
 To fancy bode a joyous year, 
 
 One of life’s fairy isles. 
 
 They twinkle to the wintry moon, 
 
 And cheer th’ ungenial day, 
 
 And tell us, all will glisten soon 
 As green and bright as they. 
 
 Is there a heart, that loves the spring. 
 
 Their witness can refuse? 
 
 Yet mortals doubt, when angels bring 
 From heaven their Easter news ; 
 
 VMen holy maids and matrons speak 
 Of Christ’s forsaken bed,' 
 
 And voices, that forbid to seek 
 The living ’mid the dead. 
 
 * [“ We catch the first flower of the season, too, the > 
 l little snow-drop ( galanthus nivalis), haply rearing ils £ 
 J tiny bell, through the lingering snow, under some \ 
 > hedge or bank.” Mudie’s British J\Taluralist, vol. ii. 
 107 .] 
 
132 
 
 TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 And when they say* “ Turn, wandering heart, 
 Thy Lord is risen indeed ; 
 
 Let pleasure go, put care apart, 
 
 And to his presence speed 
 
 We smile in scorn ; and yet we know 
 They early sought the tomb, 
 
 Their hearts, that now so freshly glow. 
 
 Lost in desponding gloom. 
 
 They who have sought, nor hope to find, 
 Wear not so bright a glance ; 
 
 They who have won their earthly mind, 
 Less reverently advance. 
 
 But where, in gentle spirits, fear 
 And joy so duly meet, 
 
 These sure have seen the angels near, 
 
 And kiss’d the Sayiour’s feet. 
 
 Nor let the pastor’s thankful eye 
 Their faltering tale disdain, 
 
 As on their lowly cou£h they lie, 
 
 Prisoners of want and pain. 
 
 O guide us. when our faithless hearts 
 From Thee would start aloof, 
 
 Where patience her sweet skill imparts 
 Beneath some cottage roof: . 
 
 Revive our dying fires, to burn 
 High as her anthems soar. 
 
 And of our scholars let us learn 
 Our own forgotten lore. 
 
* 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 133 j 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 THE RESTLESS PASTOR REPROVED. 
 
 Seemeth it but. a small thing unto you, that the God \ 
 of Israel hath separated you from the congregation of) 
 [ Israel, to bring you near to Himself'? Numbers xvi. £ 
 £ 9. [ First Morning Lesson , Church of England.} 
 
 [Almighty Father, who hast given thine only Son to ) 
 die for our sins, and to rise again for our justification ; ( 
 ; grant us so to put away the leaven of malice and ? 
 
 > wickedness, that we may always serve thee in pureness S 
 £ of living and truth, through the merits of the same, < 
 
 > thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.} 
 
 First father of the holy seed, 
 
 If yet, invoked in hour of need. 
 
 Thou count me for thine own ; 
 
 Not quite an outcast if I prove, 
 
 (Thou joy’st in miracles of love,) 
 
 Hear, from thy mercy-throne ! 
 
 Upon thine altar’s horn of gold 
 Help me to lay my trembling hold, 
 
 Though stain’d with Christian gore — 
 
 The blood of souls by Thee redeem’d,* 
 
 But, while I roved or idly dream’d, 
 
 Lost to be found no more. 
 
 * [“But if the watchman see the sword come, and < 
 
 > blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned: ) 
 l if the sword come, and take any person from among $ 
 
 ) them, he is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood ) 
 
 > will I require at the watchman 1 s hand." Ezekiel > 
 
 ; xxxiii. 6. < 
 
 > “ Take heed, therefore, unto yourselves, and to all ) 
 l the flock over the which the Holy Ghost has made you S 
 ) overseers, to feed the Church of God, which he hath $ 
 
 !- purchased with his blood." Acts xx. 28.] 
 
134 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 For oft, when summer leaves were bright, 
 And every flower was bathed in light, 
 
 In sunshine moments past, 
 
 My wilful heart would burst away 
 From whei’e the holy shadow lay, 
 
 Where Heaven my lot had cast. 
 
 I thought it scorn with thee tp dwell, 
 
 A hermit in a silent cell, 
 
 While, gayly sweeping by, 
 
 Wild Fancy blew his bugle strain, 
 
 And marshall’d all his gallant train 
 In the world’s wondering eye. 
 
 I would have join’d him — but as oft 
 They whisper’d warnings, kind and soft, 
 
 My better soul confess’d. 
 
 “ My servant, let the world alone— 
 
 Safe on the steps of Jesus’ throne 
 Be tranquil and be blest. 
 
 “ Seems it to thee a niggard hand 
 That nearest heaven has bade thee stand, 
 
 The ark to touch and bear. 
 
 With incense of pure hearts’ desire 
 To heap the censer’s sacred fire, 
 
 The snow-white ephod wear ?” 
 
 Why should we crave the worldling’s wreath, 51 
 On whom the Saviour deign’d to breathe. 
 
 To whom his keys were given, 
 
 Who lead the choir where angels meet, 
 
 With angels’ food our brethren greet, 
 
 And pour the drink of heaven ? 
 
 * [Can there bo imagined a more eloquent delinea- < 
 > tion of the pure and exalted pleasures of the pastoral ? 
 j office than is afforded in the lines which follow ; or 5 
 ; a pastoral heart that is not moved by them to deeper c 
 \ gratitude and more devoted earnestness '?] ? 
 
4 -- 
 
 + 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 135 j 
 
 When sorrow all our heart would ask, 
 
 We need not shut) our daily task, 
 
 And hide ourselves for calm ; 
 
 The herbs we seek to heal our wo 
 Familiar by our pathway grow, 
 
 Our common air is balm. 
 
 Around each pure domestic shrine 
 Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine, 
 Our hearths are altars all ; 
 
 The prayers of hungry souls and poor, 
 Like armed angels at the door, 
 
 Our unseen foes appal. 
 
 Alms all around and hymns within — 
 What evil eye can entrance win 
 Where guards like these abound? 
 
 If chance some heedless heart should roam, 
 Sure, thought of these will lure it home 
 Ere lost in folly’s round. 
 
 O joys that, sweetest in decay. 
 
 Fall not, like wither’d leaves, away, 
 
 But with the silent breath 
 Of violets drooping one by one, 
 
 Soon as their fragrant task is done, 
 
 Are wafted high in death ! 
 
t 
 
 136 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 He hath said, which heard the words of God, and j 
 $ knew the knowledge of the Most High : which saw < 
 < the vision of the Almighty, falling into a trance, but ) 
 ? having his eyes open : l shall see him, but not now ; l j 
 <! shall behold him, but not nigh : there shall come a I 
 $ Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall arise out of $ 
 
 > Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy < 
 l all the children of Sheth. — Numbers xxiv. 16, 17. J 
 
 > [First Morning Lesson , Church of England..] 
 
 , [Almighty God, who hast given thine only Son to be 1 
 unto us both a sacrifice for sin, and also an ensample J 
 
 > of godly life ; give us grace that we may always most < 
 
 > thankfully receive that, his inestimable benefit, and also ! 
 [ daily endeavour ourselves to follow the blessed steps of 
 
 c his most, holy life, through the same, Jesus Christ our ' 
 [ Lord. Amen.] 
 
 O for a sculptor’s hand, 
 
 That thou might’st take thy stand,* 
 
 \ Thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze, 
 
 Thy tranced yet open gaze 
 Fix’d on t[ie desert haze, 
 
 ; As one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees. 
 
 In outline dim and vast, 
 
 Their fearful shadows cast 
 
 > The giant forms of empires, on their way 
 * To ruin ; one by one 
 
 They tower— and they are gone ; 
 
 \ Yet in the prophet’s soul the dreams of avarice \ 
 stay.f 
 
 * LThe prophet Balaam.] 
 t [“ Balaam, the son of Bosor, who loved the wages j 
 ^of unrighteousness .” — 2 Peter ii. 15.] 
 
136 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 137 \ 
 
 > No sun or star so bright 
 
 > In all the world of light, 
 
 i That they should draw to heaven his downward \ 
 } eye ; 
 
 ; He hears th’ Almighty’s word, 
 
 ! He sees the angel’s sword, 
 
 [ Yet low upon the earth his heart and treasure \ 
 lie. 
 
 Lo ! from yon argent field, 
 
 To him and us reveal’d. 
 
 | One gentle star glides down, on earth to dwell ; 
 Chain’d as they are below, 
 
 Our eyes may see it glow, 
 
 ! And as it mounts again, may track its brightness \ 
 j well. 
 
 £ To him it glared afar, 
 
 / A token of wild war, 
 j The banner of his Lord’s victorious wrath ; 
 
 ) But close to us it gleams, 
 
 | Its soothing lustre streams 
 
 i Around our home’s green walls, and on our £ 
 i church-way path. 
 
 ) We in the tents abide 
 
 1 Which he at distance eyed, 
 
 Like goodly cedars by the waters spread, 
 
 While seven red altar-fires* 
 
 < Rose up in wavy spires, 
 
 > Where on the mount he watch’d his sorceries | 
 ( dark and dread. 
 
 £ He watch’d till morning’s ray 
 
 ? Qn lake and meadow lay, 
 
 ) And willow-shaded streams, that silent sweep 
 
 < * [“ Build me here seven altars .”— Numbers xxxiii. ) 
 
 >1.) 5 
 
’ 138 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 $. 
 
 Around the banner’d lines,* 
 
 Where by their several signs 
 
 > The desert-wearied tribes in sight of Canaan ' 
 sleep. 
 
 He watch’d till knowledge came 
 Upon his soul like flame, 
 
 ! Not of those magic fires at random caught ; 
 
 But true prophetic light 
 Flash’d o’er him, high and bright, 
 
 ; Flash’d once, and died away, and left his darken'd 
 thought. 
 
 And can he choose but fear, 
 
 Who feels his God so near, 
 
 That, when he fain would curse, his powerless 
 tongue 
 
 In blessing only moves? — 
 
 Alas! the world he loves 
 
 > Too close around his heart her tangling veil hath 
 flung. 
 
 Sceptre and Star divine , \ 
 
 Who in thine inmost shrine 
 Hast made us worshippers, O claim thine own; 
 More than thy seers we know— 
 
 O teach our love to grow 
 » Up to thy heavenly light, and reap what thou 
 hast sown. 
 
 * [“And Balaam lifted up his eyes, and he saw Israel l 
 abiding in his tents, according to their tribes.” — Num- 
 [ bers xxiv. 2.] 
 
 , t [“There shall come a Star out of Jacob, and 
 > Sceptre shall rise out of Israel — prophetic types of > 
 l the Messiah.] 
 
~4- 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 139 f - 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 LANGUOR AND TRAVAIL. 
 
 [A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, 
 
 » because her hour is come: but when she is delivered \ 
 ! of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, ? 
 ! for joy that a man is born into the world. — St. John > 
 > xvi. 21. [ Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who showest to them that are in l 
 J error the light of thy truth, to the intent that they may > 
 return into the way of righteousness; grant unto all \ 
 those who are admitted into the fellowship of Christ’s ? 
 religion, that they may avoid those things that are $ 
 [ contrary to their profession, and follow all such things l 
 ; as are agreeable to the same, through our Lord Jesus / 
 | Christ. Amen.] 
 
 Well may I guess and'feel 
 Why autumn should be sad ; 
 
 But vernal airs should sorrow heal, 
 
 Spring should be gay and glad ;* 
 
 Yet as along this violet bank I rove, 
 
 The languid sweetness seems to choke my \ 
 breath, 
 
 4." 
 
 * [Keble is a dear lover of the spring. It is in l 
 harmony with his Christian hopes, and it indulges in l 
 him that keen and grateful love of life which breathes > 
 in all he writes. “ That is the grand time of observa- \ 
 tion,” says one of nature’s shrewdest observers, “the > 
 busy season with all nature, in every thing that grows ) 
 and lives. How countless are the millions of little l 
 buds, which one of these ‘showering and shining’ > 
 days brings into leaf I They are fresh and washed by l 
 the shower ; and when the warmth comes, you would \ 
 absolutely think that you can both see and hear them S 
 cracking their scaly cases in which they were confined l 
 and protected for the winter ; aad that the little green ? 
 

 4 — 
 
 5 140 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 I sit me down beside the hazel grove, 
 
 \ And sigh, and half could wish my weariness were 
 death. 
 
 < tufts were toiling, like living and rational creatures, 
 
 < at strife, which should produce the finest shoot and 
 } the fairest blossom. Then the whisking wings and 
 ( the thrilling throats are, apparently, enough to put the 
 / air into a slate of commotion. And they are all in the 
 j act of beautifying nature too: some are plucking the 
 ( dry grass, 'so that the fields may look green ; others 
 Save gathering up the withered sticks; others, again, 
 
 < the lost feathers and hairs; and others still are pulling 
 $ the lichens from the 1 bark of the trees. The merles 
 l and the mavises are running under the hedges and the 
 
 < evergreens in the shrubbery, and capturing the snails 
 
 > in their winter habitations, before they have had time 
 
 < to prepare those hordes which would be the pest of 
 ? the gardeners for the whole season. Other birds are 
 s inspecting the buds in the orchard, aUd picking oft 
 ( every one which contains a caterpillar or a nest of 
 ; eggs, that would pour forth their destructive horde, 
 
 < and render the whole tree lifeless- Yonder again are 
 $ the rooks, clearing the meadow of the young cock- 
 s chafers, which the heat has brought nearer to the sur- 
 ( face ; and which, if they were to remain there, would 
 5 soon begin to eat the roots of the grass to such 
 
 < extent that the turf would peel off’ as easily as the 
 \ withered tunic of an onion. Some of them come from 
 S a distance too, for there are the white sea-gulls, with 
 ( their long bent wings and their wailing screams, busy 
 ) in the same field with the ploughmen, and picking up 
 
 < the 'animal weeds,’ while the ploughs are turning 
 
 \ down the vegetable ones. All the countless races of l 
 £ that time of labour and love, both native and visitant, 5 
 l are busy following their own purpose, or rather the < 
 
 > law of their being, for they form no purpose of their > 
 
 < oflrn, or they would sometimes commit errors of s 
 ^judgment as we do, but they do not.” — JWudie's Ob- £ 
 5 servation of Nature, pp. 177, 178.] 
 
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 141 ^ 
 
 Like a bright veering cloud 
 Gray blossoms twinkle there, 
 
 Warbles around a busy crowd 
 Of larks in purest air. 
 
 Shame on the heart that dreams of blessings $ 
 gone, 
 
 Or wakes the spectral forms of wo and crime, 
 When nature sings of joy and hope alone, 
 
 ! Reading her cheerful lesson in her own sweet £ 
 time. 
 
 Nor let the proud heart say, 
 
 In her self-torturing hour, 
 
 The travail pangs mpst have their way, 
 
 The aching brow must lower. 
 
 To us long since the glorious child is born ; 
 
 Our throes should be forgot, or only seem 
 Like a sad vision told for joy at morn, 
 
 > For joy that we have waked and found it but a ^ 
 dream. 
 
 Mysterious to all thought 
 A mother’s prime of bliss, 
 
 When to her eager lips is brought 
 Her infant’s thrilling kiss. 
 
 O never shall it set, the sacred light 
 Which dawns that moment on her tender gaze, $ 
 Tn the eternal distance blending bright 
 i Her darling’s hope and her’s, for love and joy and \ 
 praise. 
 
 No need for her to weep 
 Like Thracian wives of yore, 
 
 Save when in rapture still and deep 
 Her thankful heart runs o’er. 
 
 They mourn’d to trust their treasure on the $ 
 main, > 
 
 Sure of the storm, unknowing of their guide : ? 
 
*^142 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 Welcome to her the peril and the pain, 
 
 > For well she knows the home where they may $ 
 safely hide*. 
 
 She joys that one is born 
 Into a world forgiven, 
 
 Her father’s household to adorn, 
 
 And dwell with her in heaven. 
 
 So have I seen, in spring’s bewitching hour, 
 When the glad earth is offering all her best, 
 Some gentle maid bend o’er a cherish’d flower, 
 
 • And wish it worthier on a parent’s heart to rest.} 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 THE DOVE ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Nevertheless, I tell you the truth ; it is expedient for \ 
 you that I go away : for if I go not away, the Comforter S 
 will not come unto you ; but if 1 depart. I will send < 
 him unto you. St. John xvi.7. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 , TO Almighty God, who alone canst order the unruly $ 
 •wills and affections of sinful men; grant unto thy v* 
 £ people, that they may love the thing which thou com- £ 
 ? mandest and desire that which thou dost promise ; that l 
 l so, among the sundry and manifold changes of the > 
 c world, our hearts may surely there be fixed, where true £ 
 > joys are to be found, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 
 ] Amen-.] 
 
 My Saviour, can it ever be 
 That I should gain by losing Thee ? 
 
 The watchful mother tarries nigh, 
 
 Though sleep have closed her infant’s eye ; 
 
 For should he wake, and find her gone, 
 
 She knows she could not hear his moan. 
 

 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 143 \ 
 
 But I atn weaker than a child, 
 
 And Thou art more than mother dear: 
 Without Thee heaven were but a wild: 
 
 How can I live without Thee here 7 
 
 “ ’Tis good for you that I should go, 
 
 You lingering yet awhile below — 
 
 ’Tis thine own gracious promise, Lord! 
 
 Thy saints have proved the faithful word, 
 
 When heaven’s bright boundless avenue 
 Far open’d on their eager view, 
 
 And homeward to thy Father’s throne, 
 
 Still lessening, brightening on their sight, 
 
 Thy shadowy car went soaring on ; 
 
 They track’d Thee up th’ abyss of light. 
 
 Thou bid’st rejoice ; they dare not mourn, 
 
 But to their home in gladness turn, 
 
 Their home and God’s, that favour’d place, 
 Where stillhe shines on Abraham’s race, 
 
 In prayers and blessings there to wait 
 Like suppliants at their monarch’s gate, 
 
 Who, bent with bounty rare to aid 
 The splendours of his crowning day, 
 
 Keeps back awhile his largess, made 
 More welcome for that brief delay : 
 
 In doubt they wait, but not unblest; 
 
 They doubt not of their master’s rest, 
 
 Nor of the gracious will of Heaven — 
 
 Who gave his Son, sure all has given—** 
 
 But in ecstatic awe they muse 
 What course the genial stream may choose, 
 
 [ ‘ He who spared not his own Son, but delivered } 
 < him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely ? 
 ) give us all things Romans viii. 32.] s 
 
I 144 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 1 
 
 And far and wide their fancies rotfe, 
 
 And to their height of wonder strain, 
 What secret miracle of love 
 Should make their Saviour’s going gain. 
 
 The days of hope and prayer are past, 
 
 The day of comfort dawns at last, 
 
 The everlasting gates again 
 Roll back, and lo ! 4 royal train— 
 
 Prom the far depth of light once more 
 The floods of glory earthward pour ; 
 
 They part like shower-drops in mid air, 
 
 But ne’er so soft fell noon-tide shower, 
 
 Nor evening rainbow gleam’d so fair 
 To weary swains in parched bower. v 
 
 Swiftly and straight ea ( ch tongue of flame* 
 Through cloud anfl breeze unwavering came, 
 And darted to its place of rest 
 On some meek brow, of Jesus blest. 
 
 Nor fades it yet, that living gleam. 
 
 And still those lambent lightnings stream ; 
 Where’er the Lord is, there are they ; 
 
 I11 every heart that gives them room, 
 
 They light His altar every day, 
 
 Zeal to inflame, and vice consume. 
 
 Soft as the plumes of Jesus’ Dove,. 
 
 They nurse the soul to heavenly love ; 
 
 The struggling spark of good within, 
 
 Just smother’d in the strife of sin, 
 
 They quicken to a timely glow, 
 
 The pure flame spreading high and low. 
 
 * [“There appeared unto them cloven tongues, like ; 
 sol fire, and it sat upon each of them.'’ Jicts ii. 3.J ' 
 
FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 145 
 
 t~ 
 
 + 
 
 Said I, that prayer and hope were o’er ? 
 
 Nay, blessed Spirit ! but by Th£e 
 The Church’s prayer finds wings to soar, 
 
 The Church’s hope finds eyes to see. 
 
 Then, fainting soul, arise and sing; 
 
 Mount, but be sober on the wing ; 
 
 Mount up, for heaven is won by prayer. 
 
 Be sober, for thou art not there ; 
 
 Till death the weary spirit free, 
 
 Thy God hath said, ’Tis good for thee 
 To walk by faith and not^by sight : 
 
 Take it on trust a little while ; 
 
 Soon shalt thou read the mystery right 
 In the full sunshine of His smile. 
 
 Or if thou yet more knowledge crave, 
 
 Ask thine own heart, that willing slave 
 To all that works thee wo or harm : 
 
 Should’st thou not need some mighty charm 
 To win thee to thy Saviour’s side, 
 
 Though he had deign'd with thee to bide? 
 
 The Spirit must stir the darkling deep, 
 
 The Dove must settle on the cross, 
 
 Else we should all sin on or sleep 
 
 With Christ in sight, turning our gain to loss. 
 
 
 10 
 

 s' l46 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 » 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 And the Lord was very angry with Aaron to have 
 destroyed him : and 1 prayed for Aaron also the same 
 time. Deal. ix. 20. 
 
 [O Lord, from whom all good things do come ; grant 
 to us, thy humble servants, that by thy holy inspiration 
 we may think those things that are good, and by thy 
 merciful guiding may perform the same, through our 
 Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.] 
 
 Now is there solemn pause in earth and heaven; 
 
 And angels wonder why he stays below: 
 Yet hath not man 4ris lesson learn’d, 
 How endless love should be return’d. 
 
 Deep is the silence, as of summer noon,t 
 
 A gracious rain, freshening the weury bower — 
 
 * [ Rogation Sunday is that which next .precedes 
 Ascension Day. The three intervening days, Monday, 
 Tuesday, and Wednesday, are Called Rogation days, 
 from a Latin word signifying to beseech, because for 
 those days extraordinary prayers were provided, espe- 
 
 exemption from war and pest ilence. They retain their 
 place in the calendar of the Church of England.] 
 
 t [“When the air is still, and the smoke ascends in 
 tall columns without blending much with the air, it is 
 a sign of rain.” Mudie's Contemplation of Nature , 
 
 4 '' 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 147 
 
 O sweetly then far off is heard , 
 
 The clear note of some lonely bird. 
 
 | So let thy turtle dove’s sad call arise 
 In doubt and fear 
 Through darkening skies, 
 
 > And pierce, O Lord, thy justly sealed ear, 
 Where on the house top,* all night long, 
 She trills her widow’d, faltering song. 
 
 > Teach her to know and love her hour of prayer, 
 And evermore, 
 
 As faith grows rare, 
 
 J Unlock her heart, and offer all its store 
 In holier love and humbler vows, 
 
 As suits a lost returning spouse. 
 
 > Not as at first, t but with intenser cry, 
 
 Upon the mount 
 She now must lie, 
 
 > Till thy dear love to blot the sad account 
 Of her rebellious race be won, 
 
 Pitying the mother in the son. 
 
 ! But chiefly (for site knows thee anger’d worst 
 By holiest things 
 Profaned and curst), 
 
 \ Chiefly for Aaron’s seed she spreads her wings, 
 If but one leaf she may from The'e 
 Win of the reconciling tree. 
 
 [ For what shall heal, when holy water banes ? 
 Or who may guide 
 O’er desert plains 
 \ Thy loved yet sinful people, wandering wide, 
 
 * Psalm cii. 7. £ 
 
 f Deut. ix. 23. I fell down before the Lord forty s 
 ! days and forty nights, as I fell down at the first. 
 
j 148 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 If Aaron’s hand unshrinking mould* 
 
 An idol form of earthly gold ? 
 
 | Therefore her tears are bitter, &nd as deep 
 Her boding sigh, 
 
 As, while men sleep, 
 
 ! Sad-hearted mothers heave, that wakeful lie, 
 
 To muse upon some darling child 
 Roaming in youth’s uncertain wild. 
 
 > Therefore on fearful dreams her inward sight 
 ' Is fain to dwell — 
 
 What lurid light 
 
 | Shall the last darkness of the world dispel, 
 
 The Mediator in his wrath 
 Descending down the lightning’s path. 
 
 ; Yet, yet awhile, offended Saviour, pause, 
 
 In act to breakt 
 Thine outraged laws, 
 
 I O spare thy rebels for thine own dear sake ; 
 Withdraw thine hand, nor dash to earth 
 The covenant of our second birth. 
 
 ’Tis forfeit like the first— we own it all — 
 
 Yet for love’s sake, 
 
 Let it not fall ; 
 
 But at thy touch let veiled hearts awake, 
 
 That nearest to thine altar lie, 
 
 Yet least of holy things descry. 
 
 ^ Teacher of teachers ! Priest of priests ! from Thee | 
 s The sweet strong prayer 
 
 < Must rise, to free 
 
 j First Levi, then all Israel, from the snare. 
 
 ( Thou art our Moses out of sight— 
 j Speak for us, or we perish quite. 
 
 * Exodus xxxii. 4. 
 
 t Exodus xxxii. 19. 
 
ASCENSION DAY. 
 
 149 \ 
 
 ASCENSION DAY.* 
 
 Why stand ye gazine up into heaven 1 This same ^ 
 | Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so [ 
 ? come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into $ 
 ) heaven . — Acts i. II. [ Scripture appointed as the < 
 ) Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 [Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as ' 
 
 ! we do believe thy only begotten Son our Lord Jesus ( 
 < Christ to have ascended into the heavens ; so we may 5 
 
 > also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with him < 
 £ continually dwell, who liveth and reigneth with thee ? 
 ? and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. < 
 
 > Amen.] 
 
 Soft cloud, that, while the breeze of May 
 j Chants her glad matins in the leafy arch, 
 
 Draw’st thy bright veil across the heavenly | 
 way, 
 
 \ Meet pavement for an angel’s glorious march 
 
 My soul is envious of mine eye, 
 
 £ That it should soar and glide with thee so fast, 
 
 * [The fortieth day from Easter Sunday, which is \ 
 > always Thursday, is celebrated in commemoration of \ 
 j the ascension of our Lord into heaven.] 
 t [c l o u d s . 
 
 “ Cloud land ! Gorgeous land !” 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 I cannot look above and see 
 Yon high-piled pillowy mass 
 Of evening clouds, so swimmingly 
 In gold and purple pass, 
 
 And think not. Lord, how thou wast seen 
 On Israel’s desert way 
 Before them, in thy shadowy screen, 
 
 Pavilion’d all the day ! 
 

 
 ) 
 
 ASCENSION DAY. 
 
 while my grovelling thoughts half-buried 
 lie. 
 
 i roam around this earthly waste. 
 
 hains of my heart, avaunt, I say— 
 arise, and in the strength of love 
 sue the bright track ere it fade away, 
 iviour’s pathway to his home above. 
 
 ire, when I reach the point where earth 
 into nothing from th’ uncumbered sight, 
 
 Or of those robes of gorgeous hue, 
 Which the Redeemer wore, 
 
 When, ravish’d from his followers’ view, 
 Aloft his flight he bore ; 
 
 When, lifted as on mighty wing, 
 
 He curtain’d his ascent, 
 
 And, wrapt in clouds, went triumphing 
 Above the firmament. 
 
 Is it a trail of that same pall 
 Of many-colour’d dyes, 
 
 That high above, o’ermantling all. 
 
 Hangs midway down the skies — 
 
 Or borders of those sweeping folds 
 Which shall be all unfurl’d 
 About the Saviour, when he holds 
 His judgment on the world? 
 
 For in like manner as he went — 
 
 My soul, hast thou forgot? — 
 
 Shad be Ins terrible descent, 
 
 When man expecteth not ! 
 
 Strength, Son of man, against that hour. 
 Be to our spirits given, 
 
 When thou shalt come again with power, 
 Upon the clouds of heaven ! 
 
Heaven will o’ercome th’ attraction of my 
 birth, 
 
 > And I shall sink in yonder sea of light :* 
 
 Till resting by th’ incarnate Lord, 
 
 \ Once bleeding, now triumphant for my sake. 
 
 1 mark him, how by seraph hosts adored 
 
 > He to earth’s lowest cares is still awake. 
 
 The sun and every vassal star, 
 
 > All space beyond the soar of angel wings, 
 
 Wait on his word : and yet he stays his car 
 
 $ For every sigh a contrite suppliant brings. 
 
 He listens to the silent tear 
 l For all the anthems of the boundless skyf — 
 
 < And shall our dreams of music bar our ear 
 
 < To His soul-piercing voice for ever nigh ? 
 
 ^ Nay, gracious Saviour— but as now 
 ( Our thoughts have, traced thee to thy glory-throne, < 
 So help us evermore with thee to bow 
 
 > Where human sorrow breathes her lowly moan. 
 
 \ We must not stand to gaze too long, 
 
 5 Though on unfolding heayeri our gaze we bend, 
 
 ^ Where, lost behind the bright angelic throng, 
 
 < We see Christ’s entering triumph slow ascend. 
 
 / No fear but we shall soon behold, 
 
 > Faster than now it fades, that gleam revive, 
 
 k [There is a point in space where, the attraction of ) 
 
 > the earth being ^overcome, a body reaching it would l 
 
 > be carried opt of the earth’s orbit. The existence of? 
 £ such a point, in reference to the soul, is here beauti- \ 
 ' fully suggested.] 
 
 t [Notwithstanding “ all the anthems of the ] 
 ? boundless sky.”] 
 
152 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION. 
 
 When, issuing from his cloud of fiery gold, 
 
 ! Our wasted frames feel the true Sun, and live. 
 
 Then shall we see thee as thou art,* 
 
 ; For ever fix’d in no unfruitful gaze, 
 
 ; But such as lifts the new-created heart, 
 
 ; Age after age, in worthier love and praise. 
 
 [SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION. 
 
 , As every man hath received the gift, even so minis- 
 i ter the same one to another, as good stewards of the 
 ! manifold grace of God. — 1 St. Peter iv. 10. [Epistle 
 £ for the Day. 
 
 [O God, the king of glory, who hast exalted thine 
 \ only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph unto thy 
 
 > kingdom in heaven ; we beseech thee leave us not 
 ! comfortless ; but send to us thine Holy Ghost to 
 [ comfort us, and exalt us unto the same place whither 
 5 our Saviour Christ is gone before ; who liveth and 
 ; reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, 
 
 > world without end. Amen.] 
 
 The earth, that in her genial breast 
 Makes for the down a kindly nest, 
 
 Where, wafted by the warm south-west, 
 
 It floats at pleasure. 
 
 Yields, thankful, of her very best, 
 
 To nurse her treasure : 
 
 True to her trust, tree, herb, or reed. 
 
 She renders for each scatter’d seed, 
 
 And to her Lord with duteous heed 
 Gives large increase : 
 
 * 1“ When he shall appear, we shall be like him, 
 ^for we shall seejnm a.s he is.’^ 
 
SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION. 153 
 
 Thus year by year she works unfeed, 
 And will not cease. 
 
 Wo worth these barren hearts of ours, 
 Where thou hast set celestial flowers, 
 And water’d with more bahny showers 
 Than e'er distill’d 
 
 In Eden, on th’ ambrosial bowers— 
 Yet naught we yield. 
 
 Largely Thou givest, gracious Lord, 
 Largely thy gifts should be restored ; 
 Freely Thou givest, and thy word 
 Is, “ freely give:”* 
 
 He only, who forgets to hoard, 
 
 Has learn’d to live. 
 
 Wisely Thou givest— all around 
 Thine equ^l rays are resting found, 
 Yet varying so on various ground 
 They pierce and strike, 
 
 That not two roseate cups are crown’d 
 With dew alike : 
 
 Even so, in silence, likest Thee, 
 
 Steals on soft-handed Charity, 
 Tempering her gifts, that seem so free, 
 By time and place. 
 
 Till not a wo the bleak world see, 
 
 But finds her grace : 
 
 Eyes to the blind, and to the lame 
 Feet, and to sinners wholesome blame, 
 To starving bodies food and flame 
 By turns she brings ; 
 
 To humbled souls, that sink for shame, 
 Lends heavenward wings; 
 
 * St. Matt. x. 8. 
 
154 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION. 
 
 
 ' l oads them the way our Saviour went, 
 
 ? And shows love’s treasure yet unspent ; 
 
 <> As when th’ unclouded heavens were rent, 
 
 > Opening his road, 
 
 l Nor yet his Holy Spirit sent 
 \ To our abode. 
 
 i Ten days th’ eternal doors display’d* 
 
 ? Were wondering (so th’ Almighty bade) 
 
 > Whom love enthroned would send, in aid 
 
 ) Of souls that mourn, 
 
 > Left orphans in earth’s dreary shade 
 
 l As soon as born. 
 
 
 - 
 
 * £S 
 
 4 ~ 
 
 Open they stand, that prayers in throngs 
 May rise on high, and holy songs, 
 
 Such incense as of right belongs 
 To the true shrine, 
 
 Where stands the healer of all wrongs 
 In light divine ; 
 
 The golden censer in his hand, 
 
 He offers hearts from every land, 
 
 Tied to his own by gentlest band 
 Of silent love: 
 
 About Him winged blessings stand 
 In act to move. 
 
 A little while, and they shall fleet 
 From heaven to earth, attendants meet 
 On the life-giving Paraclete, 
 
 Speeding his flight, 
 
 With all that sacred is and sweet, 
 
 On saints to light. 
 
 * [Ten days intervened between the ascension of the 
 aviour and the descent of the Comforter.] 
 
 : : 
 
 1 
 
WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 155 
 
 Apostles, prophets, pastors, all 
 Shall feel the shower of mercy fall, 
 And, starting at th’ Almighty’s call, 
 Give what He gave, 
 
 Till their high deeds the world appal, 
 And sinners save. 
 
 of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house , 
 where they were sitting; and there appeared unto ( 
 them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it sat upon > 
 each of them ; and they were all filled with the Holy s 
 Ghost. Acts ii. 2, 3. [Scripture fur the Epistle.] ? 
 
 I CO God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of 
 thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of thy 
 Holy Spirit; grant us by the same Spirit to have a right 
 judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in his 
 holy comfort, through the merits of Christ Jesus our 
 Saviour, who hveth and reigneth with thee, in the 
 ( unity of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. 
 
 5 Amen . J 
 
 l When God of old came down from heaven, 
 
 In power and wrath He came; 
 
 ) Before his feet the clouds were riven, 
 
 > Half darkness and half flame: 
 
 5 * [This festival is designed to commemorate the 
 
 l descent of the Holy Gnost on the Apostles in the 
 
 > shape of cloven fiery tongues. It took place on the 
 l Jewish feast of Pentecost, the anniversary of the 
 r giving of the law at Mourn Sinai. The practice in the 
 
 > primitive church of receiving catechumens generally 
 ' to baptism on this day, clad in white robes, probably 
 
 > gave occasion to its name of white, or, by contraction, 
 s IV hit? unday. 
 
 WHIT SUNDAY.* 
 
 £ And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as 
 
; 156 
 
 WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 ~+ 
 
 Around the trembling mountain’s base 
 The prostrate people lay ; 
 
 A day of wrath and not of grace; 
 
 A dim and dreadful day. 
 
 But when lie came the second time, 
 
 He came in power and love, 
 
 Softer than gale at morning prime 
 Hover’d his holy Dove. 
 
 The fires that rush’d on Sinai down 
 In sudden torrents dread, 
 
 Now gently light, a glorious crown, 
 
 On every sainted head. 
 
 Like arrows went those lightnings forth, 
 Wing’d with the sinner’s doom ; 
 
 But these, like tongues, o’er all the earth 
 Proclaiming life to come : 
 
 And as on Israel’s awe-struck ear 
 The voice exceeding loud, 
 
 The trump that angels quake to hear, 
 Thrill'd from the deep, dark cloud, 
 
 So, when the Spirit of our God 
 Came down his flock to find, 
 
 A voice from heaven was heard abroad, 
 A rushing, mighty wind. 
 
 Nor doth the outward ear alone 
 At that high warning start ; 
 
 Conscience gives back th’ appalling tone; 
 ’Tis echoed in the heart. 
 
 It fills the Church of God ; it fills 
 The sinful world around ; 
 
 Only in stubborn hearts and wills 
 No place for it is found. 
 
MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 157 ; 
 
 To other strains our souls are set : 
 
 A giddy whirl of sin 
 Fills ear and brain, and will not let 
 Heaven’s harmouies come in. 
 
 Come, Lord, come, Wisdom, Love and Power, 
 Open our ears to hear ; 
 
 Let us not miss th’ accepted hour ; 
 
 Save, Lord, by love or fear. 
 
 MONDAY IN WHITSUN- WEEK. 
 
 THE CITY OF CONFUSION. 
 
 So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon 
 the face of all the earth : and they left otf to build the 
 city. Genesis xi. 8. [ First Morning Lesson .] 
 
 [O God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of £ 
 thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of thy > 
 Holy Spirit : grant us by the same Spirit to have a s 
 right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in ? 
 his holy comfort, through the merits of Christ Jesus S 
 our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the c 
 unity of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. ) 
 Amen.] 
 
 Since all that is not heaven must fade, 
 
 Light be the hand of ruin laid 
 Upon th& home I love : 
 
 With lulling spell let. soft decay 
 Steal on, and spare the giant sway, 
 
 The crash of tower and grove. 
 
 Far opening down some woodland deep, 
 
 In their own quiet glade should sleep 
 ] The relics dear to thought, 
 
158 
 
 — ^ 
 
 MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 And wild-flower wreaths from side to side 
 Their waving tracery hang, to hide 
 What ruthless time has wrought. 
 
 Such are the visions green and sweet 
 That o’er the wistful fancy fleet 
 In Asia’s sea-like plain, 
 
 Where slowly, round his isles of sand, 
 Euphrates through the lonely land 
 Winds toward the pearly main. 
 
 Slumber is there, but not of rest; 
 
 There her forlorn and weary nest 
 The famish’d hawk has found, 
 
 The wild dog howls at fall of night, 
 
 The serpent’s rustling coils affright 
 The traveller on his round. 
 
 What shapeless form, half-lost on high,* 
 Half-seen against the evening sky, 
 
 Seems like a ghost to glide, 
 
 And watch from Babel’s crumbling heap, 
 Where in her shadow, fast asleep, 
 
 Lies fallen imperial pride? 
 
 With half-closed eye a lion there 
 Is basking in his noontide lair, 
 
 Or prowls in twilight gloom ; 
 
 * See Sir R. K. Porter’s Travels, ii. 387. “In m> < 
 ) second visit to Rirs Nimrood, my party suddenly halted, / 
 £ having descried several dark objects moving along the > 
 ) summit of its hill, which they construed into dismounted ( 
 ^ Arabs on the look-out : 1 took out my glass to examine, 
 and soon distinguished that the causes of our alarm | 
 ) were two or three majestic lions, taking the air upon the £ 
 \ heights of the pyramid.” ' 
 
MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 The golden city’s king he seems, 
 
 Such as in old prophetic dreams* 
 
 Sprang from rough ocean’s womb. 
 
 But where are now his eaule wings, 
 That shelter’d erst a thousand kings, 
 Hiding the glorious sky 
 From half the nations, till they own 
 No holier name, no mightier throne ? 
 That vision is gone by. 
 
 Quench’d is the golden statue’s ray.f 
 The breath 6f heaven has blown away 
 What toiling earth had piled, 
 Scattering wise heart and crafty hand. 
 As breezes strew on ocean’s sand 
 The fabrics of a child. 
 
 Divided thence through every age. 
 
 Thy rebels. Lord, their warfare wage, 
 And hoarse and jarring all 
 Mount up their heaven-assailing cries 
 To thy bright watchmen in the skies, 
 From Babel’s shatter’d wall. 
 
 Thrice only since, with blended might* 
 The nations on that haughty height 
 Have met to scale the heaven ; 
 Thrice only might a seraph’s look 
 A moment’s shade of sadness brook — 
 Such power to guilt was given. 
 
 159 f 
 
 J four 
 ( and 
 > kin^ 
 
 Daniel vii. 4. 
 
 Daniel ii. and iii. 
 
 ['I'be allusions throughout this piece arc to the ) 
 universal empires predicted in the book of Daniel. I 
 to the establishment of Christ’s promised spiritual ; 
 ;dom on the ruins of them all. The sentiment of $ 
 last three lines is truly sublime.] 
 
\ 160 
 
 MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 Now the fierce bear and leopard keen* 
 
 Are perish’d as they ne’er had been, 
 Oblivion is their home ; 
 
 Ambition’s boldest dream and last 
 Must melt before the clarion blast 
 That sounds the dirge of Rome 
 
 Heroes and kings, obey the charm, 
 Withdraw the proud high reaching arm! 
 
 There is an oath on high, 
 
 That ne’er on brow of mortal birth 
 Shall blend again the crowns of earth, 
 
 Nor in according cry 
 
 Her many voices mingling own 
 One tyrant lord, one idol throne : 
 
 But to His triumph soon 
 He shall descend, who rules above, 
 
 And the pure language of His lovef 
 All tongues of men shall tune. 
 
 Nor let ambition heartless mourn ; 
 
 When Babel’s very ruins burn, 
 
 Her hisrh desires may hreathe : — 
 O’ercome thyself, and thou m ay ’st share 
 With Christ his Father’s throne, | and wear 
 The World’s imperial wreath. 
 
 * Daniel vii. 5, 6. 
 t Zephaniah iii. 9. “ Then will I turn to the people l 
 a pure language, that they may all call upon the name ? 
 of the Lord, to serve him with one consent.” 
 
 + Revelation iii. 21. “ To him that overcometh will £ 
 I grant to sit with me in my throne.” 
 
 HK 
 
TUESDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 161 ; 
 
 TUESDAY nr WHITSTOT-WEEK. 
 
 HOLY ORDERS. 
 
 , When He putteth forth his own sheep, He goeth j 
 
 > before them.— St. John x. [Gospel for tke Day.} < 
 
 [O God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts < 
 \ of thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of / 
 t thy Holy Spirit; grant us by the same Spirit to have a ( 
 S right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice < 
 
 > in his holy comfort, through the merits of Jesus Christ > 
 our Saviour, who hveth and reigneth with thee, in the < 
 
 ! unity Of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. j 
 l Amen.} 
 
 (Addressed -to Candidates for Ordination.) 
 
 “ Lord, in thy field I work all day, 
 
 I read, I teach, I warn, I pray, 
 
 And yet these wilful wandering sheep 
 Within thy fold I cannot keep. 
 
 I journey, yet no step is won — 
 
 Alas ! the weary course I run ; 
 
 Like sailors shipwrecked in their dreams, 
 All powerless and benighted seems.” 
 
 What ! wearied out with half a life ? 
 Scared with this smooth unbloody strife ? 
 Think where thy coward hopes had flown 
 Had Heaven held out the martyr’s crown. 
 
 How could’st thou hang upon the cross, 
 
 To whom a weary hour is Joss ? 
 
 Or how the thorns and scourging brook, 
 Who shrinkest from a scornful look ? 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 TUESDAY IN WHITSUN- WEEK. 
 
 Yet ere thy craven spirit faints, 
 
 Hear thine owh King, the King of saints ; 
 Though thou wert toiling in the grave, 
 
 -Tis He can cheer thee. He can save. 
 
 He is th’ eternal mirror bright, 
 
 Where angels view the Father’s light, 
 
 And yet in Him the simplest swain 
 May read his homely lesson plain. 
 
 Early to quit his home on earth, 
 
 And claim his high celestial birth, 
 
 Alone with his true Father found* * * § 
 
 Within the temple’s solemn round;— ^ 
 
 Yet in meek duty to abide 
 
 For many a year at Mary’s side,f 
 
 Nor heed, though restless spirits ask, 
 
 “ What ! hath the Christ forgot his task?” — | 
 
 Conscious of deity within, 
 
 To bow before an heir of sin, 
 
 With folded arms on humble breast, 
 
 By his own servant washed and blfest 
 
 Then full of Heaven, the mystic Dove 
 Hovering his gracious brow above. 
 
 To shun the voice and eye of praise, 
 
 And in the wild his trophies raise— § 
 
 * [“ Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s $ 
 ! business?”] 
 
 t [“And he went down with them, and came to Na- 
 
 > zareth, and was subject unto them : but his mother < 
 
 > kept all these sayings in her heart.” 
 
 j [John the Baptist, by whom Jesus was baptized.] > 
 
 § [From his baptism, Jesus went up into the wil- ) 
 | derness, where he was tempted.] { 
 

 
 TUESDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 163 5 
 
 With hymns of angels in his ears, 
 
 Back to his task of wo and tears ; 
 Unmurmuring through the world to roam, 
 With not a wish or thought at home ; 
 
 All hut himself to heal and save, 
 
 Till, ripen’d for the cross and grave, 
 
 He to his Father gently yield 
 
 The breath that our redemption seal’d— 
 
 Then to unearthly life arise, 
 
 Yet not at once to seek the skies, 
 
 But glide awhile from saint to saint, 
 
 Lest on our lonely way we faint ; 
 
 And through the cloud by glimpses show 
 How bright, in heaven, the marks will glow 
 Of the true cross, imprinted deep 
 Both on the Shepherd and the sheep — 
 
 When out of sight, in heart and prayer 
 Thy chosen people still to bear, 
 
 And from behind thy glorious veil, 
 
 Shed light that cannot change or fail — 
 
 This is thy pastoral course, O Lord, 
 
 Till we be saved, and Thou adored : 
 
 Thy course and ours— but who are they 
 Who follow on the narrow way ? 
 
 And yet of Thee from year to year 
 The Church’s solemn chant we hear, 
 
 As from thy cradle to thy throne 
 She swells her high heart-cheering tone. 
 
 Listen, ye pure white-robed souls, 
 
 W'hom in her list she now enrols, 
 
 And gird ye for your high emprize 
 By these her thrilling minstrelsies. 
 
And whereso'er, in earth’s wide field, 
 Ye lift, for Him, the red-cross shield, 
 
 Be this your song, your joy and pride— 
 “ Our Champion went before and died.’ 1 
 
 TRINITY SUNDAY.* 
 
 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, / 
 S how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things ? $ 
 \ St. John iii. 12. 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who hast given unto 1 
 s us, thy servants, grace, by the confession of a true l 
 ? faith, to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, ( 
 5 and in the power of the divine Majesty to worship the > 
 
 < Unity; we beseech thee that wouldst keep us steadfast < 
 1 in this faiih, and evermore defend us from all adversi- > 
 
 < ties, who livest and reignest, one God, world without s 
 \ end. Amen.] 
 
 Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide, 
 
 Now on Thy mercy’s ocean wide 
 Far out of sight we seem to glide. 
 
 Help us, each hour, with steadier eye 
 To search the deepening mystery. 
 
 The wonders of Thy sea and sky. 
 
 The blessed angels look and long 
 To praise Thee with a worthier song, 
 
 And yet our silence does Thee wrong. 
 
 Along the Church’s central space 
 The sacred weeks with unfelt pace 
 Have borne us on from grace to grace. 
 
 b [The festival which commemorates the mysterious $ 
 ? doctrine of the Trinity in unity.] 
 
TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 165 < 
 
 As travellers on some woodland height, 
 When wintry suns are gleaming bright, 
 Lose in arch’d glades their tangled sight ; — 
 
 By glimpses such as dreamers love 
 Through her gray veil the leafless grove 
 Shows where the distant shadows rove ; — 
 
 Such trembling joy the soul o’er-awes 
 As nearer to thy shrine she draws: 
 
 And now before the choir we pause. 
 
 The door is closed— but soft and deep 
 Around the awful arches sweep 
 Such airs as soothe a hermit’s sleep. 
 
 From each carved nook and fretted bend 
 
 Cornice and gallery seem to send 
 
 Tones that with seraph hymns might blend. 
 
 Three solemn parts together twine 
 In harmony’s mysterious line ; 
 
 Three solemn aisles approach the shrine : 
 
 Yet all are one— together all, 
 
 In thoughts that awe but not appal, 
 
 Teach the adoring heart to fall. 
 
 Within these walls each fluttering guest 
 Is gently lured to one safe nest— 
 
 Without, ’tis moaning and unrest. 
 
 The busy world a thousand ways 
 Is hurrying by, nor ever stays 
 To catch a note of Thy dear praise. 
 
 Why tarries not her chariot wheel, 
 
 That o’er her with no vain appeal 
 One gust of heavenly song might steal ? 
 
+-~'~ — '+ 
 
 j 166 TKINJTY SUNDAY. j 
 
 > Alas! for her Thy opening flowers 
 
 > Unheeded breathe to summer showers, 
 
 > Unheard the music of Thy bowers. 
 
 $ What echoes from the sacred dome 
 The selfish spirit may o’ercome 
 That Will not hear of love or home ? 
 
 The heart that scorn’d a father’s care, 
 How can it rise in filial prayer? 
 
 How an all-seeing guardian bear? 
 
 Or how shall envious brethren own 
 A brother on th’ eternal throne, 
 
 Their Father’s joy, their hope alone ? 
 
 How shall thy Spirit's gracious wile 
 The sullen brow of gloom beguile, 
 
 That frowns on sweet affection’s smile ? 
 
 Eternal One, Almighty Trine ! 
 
 (Since Thou art ours, and we are thine) 
 By all thy love did once resign, 
 
 i 
 
 By all the grace thy heavens still hide, 
 We pray Thee, keep us at thy side, 
 Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide ! 
 
FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 167 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 > ISRAEL AMONG THE RUINS OF CANAAN. 
 
 \ So Joshua smote all the country, and all their kings; j 
 
 < he left none remaining . — Joshua 40. [ First Morn- 
 ? ing Lesson .} 
 
 y [O God, the strength of all those who put their trust | 
 sin thee, mercifully accept our prayers; and because,? 
 £ through the weakness of our mortal nature, we can do 5 
 
 > no good thing without thee, grant us the help of thy ' 
 
 < grace, that in keeping thy commandments we may > 
 ? please thee, both in will and deed, through Jesus s 
 $ Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Where is the land with milk and honey flowing, 
 The promise of our God, our fancy’s theme? 
 
 I Here, over shattered walls dank weeds are grow- $ 
 
 ing. 
 
 And blood and fire have run in mingled stream; ? 
 Like oaks and cedars all around 
 The giant corses strew the ground, 
 
 <; And haughty Jericho’s cloud-piercing wall 
 
 > Lies where it sank at Joshua’s trumpet-call. 
 
 ? These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even, 
 
 > For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades, 
 
 ; Soft slumbers in the open eye of heaven, 
 
 And all the listless joy of summer shades. 
 
 We in the midst of ruins live, 
 
 Which every hour dread warning give, 
 
 ^ Nor may our household vine or fig tree hide 
 ( The broken arches of old Canaan’s pride. 
 
 { Where is the sweet repose of hearts repenting, 
 
 The deep calm sky, the sunshine of the soul, 
 
 •4 
 
168 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 £ Now heaven and earth are to our bliss consenting, 
 And all the Godhead joins to make us whole ? 
 The triple crown of mercy" now 
 Ts ready for the suppliant’s brow, 
 l By the Almighty Three for ever plann’d, 
 
 \ And from behind the cloud held out by Jesus’ 
 hand. 
 
 ‘ Now, Christians, hold your own— the land \ 
 before ye 
 
 Is open — win your way, and take your rest 
 $ So sounds our war-note ; but our path of glory 
 By many a cloud is darken’d and unblest : 
 
 And daily as we downward glide, 
 
 Life’s ebbing stream on either side 
 ] Shows at each turn some mouldering hope or joy; £ 
 \ The man seems following still the funeral of the \ 
 boy. 
 
 \ Open our eyes, thou Sun of life and gladness, 
 j That we may see that glorious world of thine ! 
 
 | It shines for us in vain, while drooping sadness 
 Enfolds us here like mist : come, Power benign, 
 Touch our chill’d hearts with vernal smild^ 
 Our wintry course do Thou beguile, 
 j Nor by the wayside ruins let us mourn, 
 
 \ Who have th’ eternal towers for our appointed 
 bourne. 
 
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 169 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AE TER TRINITY. 
 
 CHARITY the life of faith. 
 
 Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We \ 
 > know that we have passed from death unto life, be- > 
 l cause we love the brethren. — I St. John iii. 13, 14. s 
 £ [ Epistle for the Day.] ; 
 
 [O Lord, who never failest to help and govern those > 
 | whom thou dost bring up in thy steadfast fear and l 
 ? love : keep us, we beseech thee, under the protection > 
 £ of thy good providence, and make us to have a per- S 
 l petual fear and love of thy holy name, through Jesus ] 
 $ Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 The clouds that wrap the setting sun 
 When autumn’s softest gleams are ending, 
 Where all bright hues together run, 
 
 In sweet confusion blending: — 
 
 Why, as we watch their floating wreath, 
 
 Seem they the breath of life to breathe? 
 
 To fancy’s eye their motions prove 
 They mantle round the sun for love. 
 
 When up some woodland dale we catch 
 The many-twihkling smile* of ocean, 
 
 Or with pleased ear bewilder’d watch 
 His chime of restless motion ; 
 
 Still as the surging waves retire 
 They seem to gasp with strong desire ; 
 
 Such signs of love old ocean gives, 
 
 We cannot choose but think he lives. 
 
 TtOVTLWV ti Kv/xarcov 
 
 dvrjpiOfxov yt\aapa iEschyl. 
 
 < Prom. 89. 
 
; 170 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Would’st thou the life of souls discern ? 
 
 Nor human wisdom nor divine 
 Helps thee by aught beside to learn : 
 
 Love is life’s, only sign. 
 
 The spring of the regenerate heart, 
 
 The pulse, the glow of every part, 
 
 Is the true love of Christ our Lord, 
 
 As man embraced, as God adored. 
 
 But he, whose heart will bound to mark 
 The full bright burst of summer morn, 
 Loves too each little dewy spark 
 By leaf or floweret worn : 
 
 Cheap forms, and common hues, ’t is true, 
 Through the bright shower^drop meet his ] 
 view ; 
 
 The colouring may be of this earth ; 
 
 The lustre comes of heavenly birth. 
 
 Even so, who loves the Lord aright, 
 
 No soul of man can worthless find ; 
 
 All will be precious in his sight, 
 
 Since Christ on all hath shined: 
 
 But chiefly Christian souls; for they, 
 
 Though worn and soil’d with sinful clay, 
 
 Are yet, to eyes that see them true, 
 
 All glistening with baptismal dew. 
 
 Then marvel not, if such as bask 
 In purest light of innocence, 
 
 Hope against hope, in love’s dear task, 
 
 Spite of all dark offence. 
 
 If they who hate the trespass most, 
 
 Yet, when all other love is lost,' 
 
 Love the poor sinner, marvel not; 
 
 Christ’s mark outwears the rankest blot. 
 
 No distance breaks the tie of blood ; 
 
 Brothers are brothers evermore ; 
 
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 171 5 
 
 Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, 
 That magic may o’erpower ; 
 
 Oft, ere the common source be known. 
 The kindred drops will claim their own, 
 And throbbing pulses silently 
 Move lieart towards heart by sympathy. 
 
 So is it with true Christian hearts ; 
 
 Their mutual share in Jesus’ blood 
 An everlasting bond imparts 
 Of holiest brotherhood: 
 
 Oh l might we all our lineage prove, 
 
 Give and forgive, do good and love, 
 
 By soft endearments in kind strife 
 Lightening the load of daily life ! 
 
 There is much need ; for not as yet 
 Are we in shelter or repose, 
 
 The holy house is still beset 
 With leaguer of stern foes ; 
 
 Wild thoughts within, bad men without, 
 All evil spirits round about, 
 
 Are banded in unblest device. 
 
 To spoil love’s earthly paradise. 
 
 Then draw we nearer day by day, 
 
 Each to his brethren, all to God; 
 
 Let the world take us as she may, 
 
 We must not change our road ; 
 
 Not wondering, though in grief, to find 
 The martyr’s foe still keep her mind ; 
 But-fix’d to hold Jove’s banner fast, 
 
 And by submission win at last. 
 
! 172 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY'. 
 
 1 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 COMFORT FOR SINNERS IN THE PRESENCE 
 OF THE GOOD. 
 
 There is joy in the presence of the angels of God j 
 ( over one sinner thatrepenteth. St. Luke xv. 10. [Gos- £ 
 £ pel for the Day.] 
 
 I [0 Lord, we beseech thee mercifully to hear us : and < 
 grant that we, to whom thou hast given a hearly desire \ 
 to pray, may, by thy mighty aid, be defended and 
 comforted in ali dangers and adversities, through Jesus | 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 O hateful spell of sin ! when friends are nigh, 
 
 To make stern memory tell her tale unsought, 
 And raise accusing shades of hours gone by. 
 
 To come between us and all kindly thought ! 
 
 Chill’d at her touch, the self-reproaching soul 
 Flies from the heart and home she dearest loves $ 
 To where lone mountains tower, or billows roll, 
 
 Or to your endless depth, ye solemn groves. 
 
 In vain ; the averted cheek in loneliest dell 
 Is conscious of a gaze it cannot bear ; 
 
 The leaves that rustle near us seem to tell 
 Our heart’s sad secret to the silent air. 
 
 Nor is the dream untrue ; for all around 
 The heavens are watching with their thousand \ 
 
 \ eyes, 
 
 | We cannot pass our guardian angel’s bound, 
 s Resign’d or sullen, he will hear our sighs. t 
 
 \ He in the mazes of the budding wood l 
 
 ^ Is near, and mourns to see our thankless glance^ 
 
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 173 > 
 
 l Dwell coldly, where the fresh green earth is < 
 strew’d , 
 
 With the first flowers that lead the vernal dance. ! 
 
 | In wasteful bounty shower’d, they smile unseen, 
 j Unseen by man — but what if purer sprites 
 ; By moonlight o’er their dewy bosoms lean 
 T’ adore the Father of all gentle lights ? 
 
 ! If such there be, oh, grief and shame to think 
 That sight of thee should overcloud their joy, 
 
 ! A new-born soul, just waiting on the brink 
 Of endless life, yet wrapt in earth’s annoy ! 
 
 ! Oh turn, and be thou turn’d ! the selfish tear, 
 
 In bitter thoughts of low-born care begun, 
 
 ; Let it flow on, but flow refined and clear, 
 
 The turbid waters brightening as they run. 
 
 > Let it flow on, till all thine earthly heart 
 
 In penitential drops have ebb’d away, 
 
 [ Then fearless turn where heaven hath set thy part, 
 Nor shudder at the eye that saw thee stray. 
 
 > Oh lost and found ! all gentle souls below 
 
 Their dearest welcome shall prepare, and prove 
 \ Such joy o’er thee, as raptured seraphs know, 
 Who learn their lesson at the throne of love 
 
 
! 174 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 \ FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE GROANS OF NATURE. 
 
 ' For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth < 
 ) for the manifestation of the sons of God : for the < 
 s creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but ? 
 ) by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope ; ) 
 $ because the creature itself also shall be delivered from < 
 i the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of) 
 ) the children of God : for we know that the whole s 
 l creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until j 
 l now. Rom. viii. 19 — 22. [Epistle for the Day.] ‘ 
 
 ) [O God, the protector of all that trust in thee, with- 
 ' out whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy; increase 
 \ and multiply upon us thy mercy ; that thou being our 
 £ ruler and guide, we may so pass through things tempo- 
 
 < ral, that we finally lose not the things eternal ; grant 
 } this, O heavenly Father, lor Jesus Christ’s sake our 
 
 < Lord. Amen.] 
 
 | It was not then a poet’s dream, 
 
 \ An idle vaunt of song, 
 
 ) Such as beneath the moon’s soft gleam 
 On vacant fancies throng, 
 
 Which bids us see in heaven and earth, 
 
 In all fair things around, 
 
 Strong yearnings for a bless’d new birth 
 With sinless glories crown’d: 
 
 Which bids us hear, at each sweet pause 
 From care and want and toil, 
 
 When dewy eve her curtain draws 
 Over the day’s turmoil, 
 
 
 In the low chant of wakeful birds, 
 In the deep weltering tiood, 
 
 4 
 

 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 175$ 
 
 Iii whispering leaves, these solemn words— 
 “God made us ail for good,” 
 
 AlLtrue, all faultless, all in tune, 
 
 Creation’s wondrous choir 
 Open’d in mystic unison 
 To last till time expire. 
 
 And still it lasts: by day and night, 
 
 With one' consenting voice. 
 
 All hymn thy glory, Lord, aright, 
 
 All worship and rejoice. 
 
 Man only mars the sweet accord, 
 
 Overpowering with “ harsh din” 
 
 The music of thy works and word, 
 
 111 matched with grief and sin. 
 
 Sin is with man at morning break, 
 
 And through the live-long day 
 Deafens the ear that fain would wake 
 To Nature's simple lay. 
 
 Rut when eve’s silent footfall steals 
 Along the eastern sky. 
 
 And one by one to earth reveals 
 Those purer tires on high, 
 
 When one by one each human sound 
 Dies on the awful ear. 
 
 Then Nature’s voice no more is drown’d, 
 
 She speaks and we must hear. 
 
 Then pours she on the Christian heart 
 That warning still and deep, 
 
 At which high spirits of old would start 
 Even from their Pagan sleep, 
 
176 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Just guessing, through their murky blind, 
 Few, faint, and baffling sight, 
 
 Streaks of a brighter heaven behind 
 A cloudless depth of light. 
 
 Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise, 
 Through many a dreary age, 
 
 Upbore whate’er of good and wise 
 Yet lived in bard or sage : 
 
 They mark’d what agonizing throes 
 Shook the great mother’s womb ; 
 
 But Reason’s spells might not disclose 
 The gracious birth to come ; 
 
 Nor could th’ enchantress Hope forecast 
 God’s secret love and power : 
 
 The travail-pangs of earth must last 
 Till her appointed hour; 
 
 The hour that saw from opening heaven 
 Redeeming glory stream, 
 
 Beyond the summer hues of even, 
 
 Beyond the mid-day beam. 
 
 Thenceforth, to eyes of high desire, 
 
 The meanest things below, 
 
 As with a seraph’s robe of fire 
 Invested, burn and glow : 
 
 The rod of heaven has touch’d them all, 
 The word from heaven is spoken ; 
 
 “ Rise, shine, and sing, thou captive thrall; 
 Are hot thy fetters broken 1 
 
 The God who hallow’d thee and bless’d, 
 Pronouncing thee all good — 
 
 Hath he not all thy wrongs redress’d, 
 
 And all thy bliss renew’d ? 
 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 177 \ 
 
 Why mourn’st thou still as one bereft, 
 
 Now that th’ eternal Son 
 
 His blessed Home in heaven hath left 
 To make thee all his own ?” 
 
 Thou mourn’st because sin lingers still 
 In Christ’s new heaven and earth ; 
 
 Because our rebel works and will 
 Stain our immortal birth ; 
 
 Because, as love and prayer grow cold, 
 
 The Saviour hides his face. 
 
 And worldlings blot the temple’s gold 
 With uses vile and base. 
 
 Hence all thy groans and travail pains, 
 
 Hence, till thy God return, 
 
 In wisdom’s ear thy blithest strains, 
 
 Oh Nature, seem to mourn. 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE FISHERMEN OF BETHSAIDA. 
 
 And Simon answering said unto Him, Master, we < 
 shave toiled all th’e night, and have taken nothing; \ 
 £ nevertheless, at thy word 1 will let down the net ; and ) 
 5 when they had this done, they enclosed a great multi- ' 
 Mude of fishes, and their net brake. — St. Luke v. 5. < 
 i [Gospel for the Day.'] 
 
 1 [Grant, O Lord, we beseech thee, that the course of) 
 this world may lie so peaceably ordered by thy gover- < 
 nance, that thy church may joyfully serve thee in all ? 
 godly quietness, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 12 
 
; 178 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 “ The live long rught we’ve toiled in vain, 
 But at thy gracious word 
 I will let down the net again : — 
 
 Do thou thy will, O Lord 1” 
 
 So spake the weary fisher, spent 
 With bootless, darkling toil. 
 
 Yet on his Master’s bidding bent 
 For love and not for spoil. 
 
 So day by day and week by week, 
 
 In sad and weary thought. 
 
 They muse, whom God hath set to seek 
 The souls his Christ hath bought. 
 
 For not upon a tranquil lake 
 Our pleasant tasl^ we ply, 
 
 Where all along our glistening wake 
 The softest moonbeams lie ; 
 
 Where rippling wave and dashing oar 
 Our midnight chant attend, 
 
 Or whispering palm-leaves from the shore 
 With midnight silence blend. 
 
 Sweet thoughts of peace, ye may not last : 
 Too soon some ruder sound 
 Calls us from where ye soar so fast 
 Back to our earthly round. 
 
 For wildest storms our ocean sweep : — 
 
 No anchor but the Cross 
 Might hold : and oft the thankless deep 
 Turns all our toil to loss. 
 
 Full many a dreary anxious hour 
 We watch our nets alone 
 In drenching spray, and driving shower, 
 And hear the night-bird’s moan : 
 
 1 
 

 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 179 
 
 At morn we look, and naught is there; 
 Sad dawn of cheerless day ! 
 
 Who then from pining and despair 
 The sickening heart can stay ? 
 
 There is a stay— and we are strong ; 
 
 Our Master is at hand, 
 
 To cheer our solitary song, 
 
 And guide us to the strand, 
 
 In his own time : but yet awhile 
 Our bark at sea must ride : 
 
 Cast after cast, by force or guile 
 All waters must be tried : 
 
 By blameless guile or gentle force, 
 
 As when he deign'd to teach 
 
 (The lode-star of our Christian course) 
 Upon this sacred beach. 
 
 Should e’er thy wonder-working grace 
 Triumph hy our weak arm, 
 
 Let not our sinful fancy trace 
 Aught human in the charm : 
 
 To our own nets* ne’er bow we down, 
 Lest on the eternal shore 
 
 The angels, while our draught they own,f 
 Reject us evermore : 
 
 Or, if for our un worthiness 
 
 Toil, prayer, and watching fail. 
 
 In disappointment thou canst bless, 
 
 So love at heart prevail. 
 
 4 
 
 * Habakkuk i. 16. They sacrifice unto their net, \ 
 and burn incense unto their drag, 
 t St. Matthew xiii. 49. 
 
•f- 
 
 180 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE PSALMIST REPENTING. 
 
 David said onto Nathan, I have sinned against the 
 l Lord : and Nathan said unto David, The Lord also 
 
 > hath put away thy sin ; thou shalt not die.— ‘2 Samuel 
 
 > xii. 13. [First Morning Lesson, Church of England , .] 
 
 [O God, who hast prepared for those who love thee, 
 
 > such good things as pass man’s understanding; paur 
 
 > into our hearts such love towards thee, that we, loving 
 
 > thee above all things, may obtain thy promises, which 
 ; exceed all that we can desire, through Jesus Christ our 
 j Lord, jlmcn.] 
 
 When bitter thoughts, of conscience born, 
 With sinners wake at morn, 
 
 When from our restless couch we start, 
 
 With fever’d lips and wither’d heart, 
 
 ; Where is the spell to charm those mists away, 
 And make new morning in that darksome day? 
 One draught of spring’s delicious air, 
 
 One steadfast thought, that God is there. 
 
 These are thy wonders, hourly wrought,* 
 
 Thou Lord of time and thought, 
 
 * [How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean 
 
 Are thy returns ! even as the flowers in spring, 
 To which, besides their own demean, 
 
 The late past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. 
 Grief melts away 
 Like snow in May, 
 
 As if there were no such cold thing. 
 
 Who would have thought my shrivell’d heart 
 Could have recover’d greenness. It was gone 
 Quite under ground, as flowers depart 
 To see their mothor-root, when they have flown ; 
 
SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 181 j 
 
 j Lifting and lowering souls at will, 
 
 < Crowding a world of good or ill 
 
 < Into a moment’s vision ; even as light 
 
 ; Mounts o’er a cloudy ridge, and all is bright, 
 
 From west to east one thrilling ray 
 Turning a wintry world to May. 
 
 Wouldst thou the pangs of guilt assuage? 
 
 Lo here an open page, 
 
 Where heavenly mercy shines as free, 
 
 Written in balm, sad heart, for thee. 
 
 I Never so. fast, in silent April shower, 
 
 \ Flush’d into green the dry and leafless bower,* 
 
 As Israel’s crowned mourner felt 
 The dull hard stone within him melt. 
 
 The absolver saw the mighty grief, 
 
 And hasten’d with relief;— 
 
 “ The Lord forgives ; thou shalt not die:”— 
 ’Twas gently spoke, yet heard on high, 
 
 > And all the band of angels, used to sing 
 
 > In heaven, accordant to his raptured string, 
 
 ' Who many a month had turn’d away 
 
 With veiled eyes, nor own’d his lay, 
 
 Where they together 
 All the hard weather 
 Dead to the world, keep house unknown. 
 
 These are thy wonders, Lord of power, 
 
 Kilting and quickening, bringing down to hell 
 And up to heaven in an hour, 
 
 Making a chiming of a passing bell. 
 
 We say amiss, 
 
 This or that is — 
 
 Thy word is all, if we could spell. 
 
 Herbert's Poems, ( 164 1 ,) p. 160.] 
 * And all this leafless and uncolour’d scene 
 Shall flush into variety again. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 
Now spread their Wings, and throng around 
 To the glad mournful sound, 
 
 And welcome, with bright open face, 
 
 The broken heart to love’s embrace.* 
 
 J The rock is smitten, and to future years 
 ; Springs ever fresh the tide of holy tearsf 
 And holy music, whispering peace 
 Till time and sin together cease. 
 
 There drink : and when ye are at rest, 
 
 With that free Spirit blest, | 
 
 Who to the contrite can dispense 
 The princely heart of innocence. 
 
 ’ If ever, floating from faint earthly lyre, 
 
 ! Was wafted to your soul one high desire, 
 
 By all the trembling hope ye feel, 
 
 Think on the minstrel as ye kneel : 
 
 Think on the shame, that dreadful hour 
 When tears shall have no power, 
 Should his own lay th’ accuser prove 
 Gold, while he kindled others’ love : 
 
 > * fThe idea, in this stanza, of the angels, who had > 
 
 > been wont to sing in tune with David’s lyre, offended < 
 by his grievous fall, but, on the instant of his penitence, ? 
 restored to sympathizing joy, is beyond all praise. S 
 “There is joy among the angels of God over one \ 
 
 \ sinner that repenteth.”J 
 
 | t The fifty-first P§alm. 
 
 \ t Psalm li. 12: “Uphold me with th y free Spirit.” 
 
 I The original word seems to mean “ ingenuous, princely, S 
 ) noble.” Read Bishop Horne’s Paraphrase on the i 
 ( verse. [“ Heprayeth to be continued in that state of) 
 
 > salvation, by the Spirit of God, which might enable s 
 s him to act as became a prophet and a king, free from ? 
 s base desires and enslaving lusts.”] 
 
SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 183 
 
 i 
 
 \ And let your prayer for charity arise, 
 
 \ That his own heart may hear his melodies, 
 
 < And a true voice to him may cry, 
 
 < “ Thy God forgives— thou shalt not die.” 
 
 
 l SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY, j 
 
 THE FEAST IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 , From whence can a man satisfy these men with 
 ? bread here in the wilderness ? — St. Mark viii. 4. \ 
 $ [ Gospel for the Day.) 
 
 > [Lord of all power and might, who art the author j 
 
 < and giver of all good things ; graft in our hearts the 
 
 ? love of thy name, increase in us true religion, nourish > 
 $ us with all goodness, and of thy great mercy ke^p us J 
 in the same through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Go not away, thou weary soul : 
 
 Heaven has in store a precious dole 
 ; Here on Bethsaida’s cofd and darksome height, 
 j Where over rocks and sands arise 
 i Proud Sirion in the northern skies, 
 
 ) And Tabor’s lonely peak, ’twixt thee and noon- { 
 day light. 
 
 | And far below, Gennesaret’s main 
 
 < Spreads many a mile of liquid plain,* 
 
 ' (Though all seem gather’d in one eager bound,) ) 
 
 < Then narrowing cleaves yon balmy lea, j 
 
 < Towards that deep sulphureous sea, 
 
 ; Where five proud cities lie, by one dire sentence ) 
 \ drown’d. 
 
 * [Clear as a crystal mirror in the beam 
 Of morn, Tiberias lake expanded lay. 
 
 As clear and smooth : save where old Jordan’s stream ! 
 Mark’d through that mirror clear his dimpled way. 
 
I 184 SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.. 
 
 Landscape of fear! yet, weary heart, 
 
 Thou need’st not in thy gloom depart, 
 
 ; Nor fainting turn to seek thy distant home ; 
 Sweetly thy sickening throbs are eyed 
 By the kind Saviour at thy side ; 
 
 > For healing and for balm even noW thine hour is £ 
 come. 
 
 No fiery wing is seen to glide, 
 
 No cates ambrosial are supplied, 
 i But one poor fisher’s rude and scanty store 
 Is all He asks (and more than needs 
 Who men and angels daily feeds, 
 
 And stills the wailing sea-bird on the hungry 
 shore. 
 
 The feast is o’er, the guests are gone, 
 
 And over all that upland lone 
 ! The breeze of eve sweeps wildly as of old — 
 
 But far unlike the former dreams, 
 
 The heart’s sweet moonlight softly gleams 
 \ Upon life’s varied view, so joyless erst and cold. 
 
 As mountain travellers in the night. 
 
 When heaven by fits is dark and bright, 
 
 > Pause listening on the silent heath, and hear 
 Nor trampling hoof nor tinkling bell, 
 
 Then bolder scale the rugged fell, 
 
 !> Conscious the more of One, ne’er seen, yet ever 
 near : 
 
 > The mist that spread a shadowy veil, at length 
 l Slow up the mountain’s side irs skirts hath roll’d, 
 
 And see the sun, rejoicing in his strength, 
 l Now tip the rocks, now spread the lake with gold, 
 
 \ His sparkling rays on rich Bethsaida fling, 
 
 And light Capernaum’s towers, tall palms, and \ 
 limpid spring. 
 
 Bishop Mant , Gospel Miracles, p. 47. J 
 

 SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 185 I 
 
 So when the tones of rapture gay 
 On the lorn ear die quite away, 
 
 $ The lonely world seems lifted nearer heaven ; 
 
 Seen daily, yet unmark’d before, 
 
 Earth’s common paths are strewed all o’er 
 \ With flowers of pensive hope, the wreath of man < 
 forgiven. 
 
 The low sweet tones of Nature’s lyre 
 No more on listless ears expire, 
 
 \ Nor vainly smiles along the shady way 
 The primrose in her vernal nest, 
 
 Nor unlamented sink to rest 
 \ Sweet roses one by one, nor autumn leaves decay. 
 
 There’s not a star the heaven can show, 
 There’s not a cottage hearth below, 
 
 | But feeds with solace kind the willing soul — 
 
 Men love us, or they need our love ; 
 
 Freely they own, or heedless prove 
 $ The curse of lawless hearts, the joy of self-control. < 
 
 Then rouse thee from desponding sleep, 
 
 Nor by the way-side lingering weep, 
 
 | Nor fear to seek Him farther in the wild, 
 
 Whose love can turn earth’s worst and least 
 Into a conqueror’s royal feast ; 
 
 \ Thou wilt not be untrue, thou shalt not be \ 
 beguiled. 
 
] It is the mkn of God, who was disobedient to the 
 ? word of the Lord. — l Kings xiii. 26. [ First Lesson, 
 / Morning Service, Church of England .3 
 
 [O God, whose never-failing providence ordereth all 
 things both in heaven and earth ; we humbly beseech 
 thee to put away from us all hurtful things, and to give 
 us those things which are profitable for us, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 Prophet of God, arise and take 
 
 With thee the words of wrath divine, 
 The scourge of Heaven, to shake 
 O’er yon apostate shrine. 
 
 Where angels down the lucid stair 
 
 Came hovering to our sainted sires, 
 Now, in the twilight glare 
 The heathen’s wizard fires. 
 
 Go, with thy voice the altar rend, 
 
 Scatter the ashes ; be the arm 
 That idols would befriend, 
 Shrunk at thy withering charm. 
 
 Then turn thee, for thy time is short ; 
 
 But. trace not o’er the former way, 
 Lest idol pleasures court 
 Thy heedless soul astray. 
 
 Thou know’st how hard to hurry by, 
 
 Where on the lonely woodland road 
 Beneath the moonlight sky 
 The festal warblings flow’d ; 
 
t* EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. lS?^ 
 
 Where maidens to the Q,ueen of Heaven 
 Wove the gay dance round oak or palm, 
 
 Or breathed their vows at even 
 In hymns as soft as balm. 
 
 Or thee perchance a darker spell 
 Enthralls ; the smooth stones of the flood,* 
 By mountain grot or fell, 
 
 Pollute with infant’s blood ; 
 
 The giant altar on the rock, 
 
 The cavern whence the timbrel’s call 
 Affrights the wandering flock ; 
 
 Thou long’st to search them all. 
 
 Trust not the dangerous path again— 
 
 O forward step and lingering will ! 
 
 O loved and warned in vain ! 
 
 And wilt thou perish still ? 
 
 Thy message given, thine home in sight, 
 To the forbidden feast return ? # 
 
 Yield to the false delight 
 Thy better soul could Spurn ? 
 
 Alas, my brother ! round thy tomb 
 In sorrow kneeling, and in fear, 
 
 We read the pastor’s doom 
 Who speaks and wilL-not hear. 
 
 The gray-hair’d saint rriay fail at last, 
 
 The surest guide a wanderer prove ; 
 
 Death only binds 4s fast 
 To the bright shore of love. 
 
 I * Isaiah lvii. 6. Among the smooth stones of the < 
 ^stream is thy portion ; they, they are thy lot. 
 
1 188 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 ELIJAH IN HOREB. 
 
 And after the earthquake a fire; but. the Lord was 5 
 ? not in the fire : and after the fire, a still small voice. — < 
 £ 1 Kings xix. 12. [First Evening Lesson , Church of? 
 £ England .] 
 
 [Grant to us, Lord, we beseech thee, the spirit to > 
 c think and do always such things as are right ; that we, ' 
 i who cannot do any thing that is good without thee, < 
 < may by thee be enabled to live according to thy will, < 
 £ through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.} 
 
 ! In troublous days of anguish and rebuke, 
 
 ! While sadly round them Israel’s children look, 
 
 And their eyes fail for waiting on their Lord : 
 
 \ While uri'dejneath each awful arch 6f green, 
 
 ; On every mountain-top, God’s chosen scene 
 Of pure heart-worship, Baal is adored ; 
 
 ’Tis well, true hearts should for a time retire 
 £ To holy ground, in quiet to aspire 
 
 Towards promised regions of serener grace ; 
 
 \ On Horeb, with Elijah, let us lie, 
 
 [ Where all around on mountain, sand, and sky, 
 God’s chariot-wheels have left distinctest trace ; 
 
 \ There, if in jealousy and strong disdain 
 ; We to the sinner’s God of sin complain, 
 
 Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven— 
 
 $ “ It is enough, O Lord ! now let me die 
 > Even as my fathers did ; for what am I 
 
 That I should stand, where they have vainly j 
 striven ?” 
 

 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 189^ 
 
 ; Perhaps our God may of our conscience ask, < 
 
 1 What doest thou here, frail wanderer from thy 1 
 task ? ! 
 
 Where hast thou left those few sheep in the i 
 wild?”* i 
 
 £ Then should we plead our heart’s consuming pain, [ 
 
 ' At sight of ruin'd altars, prophets slain, 
 
 And God’s own ark with blood of souls defiled ; 
 
 | He on the rock may bid us stand, and see 
 > The outskirts of his march of mystery, 
 
 His endless warfare with man’s wilful heart; 
 
 ! First, His great, power He to the sinner shows, 
 
 ! Lo! at His angry blast the rocks unclose, 
 
 And to their base the trembling mountains j 
 part ; 
 
 \ Yet the Lord is not here ; ’t is not by power 
 ! He will be known— but darker tempests lower; 
 
 Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground ; < 
 J Perhaps His presence through all depth and height, < 
 ; Best of all gems that deck his crown of light, 
 
 The haughty eye may dazzle and confound. 
 
 \ God is not in the earthquake ; but behold 
 ; From Sinai’s caves are bursting, as of old, 
 
 ; The flames of his consuming, jealous ire. 
 
 ; Wo to the sinner, should stern justice prove 
 | His chosen attribute but he in love 
 Hastes to proclaim, “ God is not in the fire.” 
 
 ; The storm is o’er— and hark ! a still small voice 
 ; Steals on the ear, to say, Jehovah’s choice 
 > Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul : 
 
 ! * 1 Sam. xvii. c 28. 
 
> 190 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER' TRINITY. 
 
 > By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw* 
 
 > The sinner, startled by his ways of awe: 
 
 ; Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll. 
 
 Back then, complainer ; loathe thy life no more, 
 
 > Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore, 
 
 Because the rocks the nearer prospect close. 
 
 ! Yet in fallen Israel are their hearts and eyesf 
 ! That day by day in prayer like thine arise : 
 
 Thou know’st them not, but their Creator 
 knows.]; 
 
 * [Beautifully descriptive of the Saviour’s way of > 
 drawing sinners unto him. “ He shall not. strive nor s 
 
 > cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the street, i 
 A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax [ 
 shall he not quench.” St. Matthew xii. 20.] 
 
 > t [“ Yet I have left me seven thousand in Israel, all ; 
 \ the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every > 
 l mouth which hath not kissed him.” 1 Kings xix. 18 ] $ 
 
 t [THE SYNAGOGUE. 
 
 ‘But even unto this day, when Moses is read, the £ 
 veil is upon their heart. Nevertheless, when it shall ? 
 £ turn to the Lord, the veil shall be taken away.” St. [ 
 [ Paul. 
 
 I saw them in their synagogue, as in their ancient day, \ 
 ; And never from my memory the scene will fade away, < 
 i For dazzling on my vision still, the latticed galleries ? 
 J shine ; 
 
 > With Israel’s loveliest daughters, in their beauty half- < 
 divine ! 
 
 > It is the holy Sabbath eve, — the solitary light 
 
 ! Sheds, mingled with the hues of day, a lustre nothing ) 
 ; bright ; ( 
 
 > On swarthy brow and piercing glance it falls with sad- | 
 
 * dening tinge/ s 
 
 And dimly gilds the Pharisee’s phylacteries and fringe. I 
 
NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 191 £ 
 
 Go, to the world return, nor fear to cast S 
 
 Thy bread upon the waters, sure at last* \ 
 
 In joy to find it after many days. < 
 
 The work be thine, the fruit thy children’s part ; ( 
 Choose to believe, not sefe ; sight tempts the l 
 
 From sober walking in true Gospel ways. 
 
 The two-leaved doors slide slow apart before the 
 eastern screen. 
 
 As rise the Hebrew harmonies, with chanted prayers 
 between. 
 
 And ’mid the tissued veils disclosed, of many a gor- 
 
 Robed in his sacerdotal vest, a silvery-headed man 
 With voice of solemn cadence o’er the backward 
 letters ran. 
 
 And often yet methinks I see the glow and power that 
 
 And fervently that hour 1 pray’d, that from the mighty 
 scroll, 
 
 Its light, in burning characters, might break on every 
 soul. 
 
 That on their harden’d hearts the veil might be na 
 longer dark, 
 
 But be forever rent in twain like that before the ark. 
 
 For vet the tenfold film shall fall. O Judah ! from thv 
 
 
 sate , 
 
 Upon his face, as forth he spread the roll immaculate. 
 
[ 192 TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 TENTH SUNDAY AETER, TRINITY. 
 
 CHRIST WEEPING OVER JERUSALEM. 
 
 And when He was come near, He beheld (he city, | 
 l and wept over it. — St. Luke xix. 41. {Gospel for the ? 
 \ Day.] < 
 
 [Let thy merciful ears, O Lord, be open to the > 
 5 prayers of thy humble servants ; and that they may < 
 ( obtain their petitions, make them to ask such things > 
 > as shall please thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. ) 
 ] Amen.] 
 
 Why doth my Saviour weep 
 At sight of Sion’s bowers ? 
 
 Shows it not fair from yonder steep. 
 
 Her gorgeous crown of towers ? 
 
 Mark well his holy pains : 
 
 ’Tis not in pride or scorn. 
 
 That Israel’s king with sorrow stains 
 His own triumphal morn. 
 
 It is not that his soul 
 
 Is wandering sadly on, 
 
 In thought how soon at death’s dark goal 
 Their course will all be run, 
 
 Who now are shouting round 
 Hosanna to their chief ; 
 
 No thought like this in him is found, 
 
 This were a conqueror’s grief.* 
 
 * Compare Herod, vii. 46. [“When he (Xerxes) ; 
 s saw the Hellespont covered with ships, and the whole s 
 ? shore and plains of Abydos filled with soldiers, he at ? 
 
 > first congratulated himself on his good fortune: but.) 
 ( soon after, he shed tears." — “When l reflect.’’ says < 
 
 > he. “on the shortness of human life, and that of so > 
 s many myriads of men, not one will remain one hundred s 
 ( years, 1 am overwhelmed with grief.’’ — Strange in- ( 
 

 TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 193 { 
 
 
 Or doth he feel the Cross 
 Already in his heart, 
 
 The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss ? 
 
 Feel even his God depart ? 
 
 No: though he knew full well 
 The grief that then shall be — 
 
 The grief that angels cannot tell — 
 
 Our God in agony — 
 
 It is not thus he mourns ; 
 
 Such might be martyr’s tears, 
 
 When his last lingering look he turns 
 On human hopes and fears ; 
 
 But hero ne’er or saint 
 
 The secret load might know, 
 
 With which His spirit waxeth faint; 
 
 His is a Saviour’s wo. 
 
 “ If thou hadst known, even thou, 
 
 At least in this thy day, 
 
 The message of thy peace ! but now 
 ’Tis pass’d for aye away : 
 
 Now foes shall trench thee round, 
 
 And lay thee even with earth, 
 
 And dash thy children to the ground, 
 
 Thy glory and thy mirth.” 
 
 And doth the Saviour weep 
 Over his people’s sin, 
 
 Because we will not let him keep 
 The souls He died to win ? 
 
 Ye hearts, that love the Lord, 
 
 If at this sight ye burn, 
 
 See that in thought, in deed, in word, 
 
 Ye hate what made Him mourn. 
 
 $ consistency in one who was hurrying thousands of 4 
 1 to an untimely death ! But such is man.] 
 
 13 
 
\ 194 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 
 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 GEHAZI REPROVED. 
 
 Is it a time to receive money, and to receive gar- ( 
 ? ments, and olive' yards, and vineyards, and sheep and ? 
 I oxen, and men servants, and maid servants?— 2 Kings £ 
 ] v. 26. [First Morning Lesson , Church of England .] 
 
 [O God, who declarest thy Almighty power chiefly £ 
 $ in showing mercy and pity ; rhercilully grant unto us > 
 < such a measure of thy grace, that we, running the way < 
 ) of thy commandments, may obtain thy gracious pro-? 
 5 nnises, and be made partakers of thy heavenly treasure, [ 
 4 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Is this a time to plant and build, 
 
 Add house to house, and field to field, 
 
 When round our walls the battle lowers, 
 When mines are hid beneath our towers, 
 
 And watchful foes are stealing round 
 To search and spoil the holy ground ? 
 
 Is this a time for moonlight dreams 
 Of love and home by mazy streams, 
 
 For fancy, with her.shadowy toys, 
 
 Aerial hopes and pensive joys. 
 
 While souls are wandering far and wide, 
 
 And curses swarm on every side ? 
 
 No— rather steel thy melting heart 
 To act the martyr’s sternest part ; 
 
 To watch, with firm, unshrinking eye, 
 
 Thy darling visions as they die, 
 
 Till all bright hopes, and hues of day, 
 
 Have faded into twilight gray. 
 
 4 *' 
 
 4 
 

 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 195 ) 
 
 Yes— let them pass without a sigh ; 
 
 And if the world seem dull and dry. 
 
 If long and sad thy lonely hours, 
 
 And winds have rent thy sheltering bowers, 
 Bethink thee what thou art, and where, — 
 
 A sinner in a life of care. 
 
 The fire of God is soon to fall 
 (Thou know’st it) on this earthly ball ; 
 
 Full many a soul, the price of blood, 
 
 Mark’d by th’ Almighty’s hand for good, 
 
 To utter death that hour shall sweep — 
 
 And will the saints in heaven dare weep? 
 
 Then in his wrath shall God uproot 
 The trees He set for lack of fruit, 
 
 And drown in rude tempestuous blaze 
 The towers His hand had deign’d to raise. 
 
 In silence, ere that storm begin, 
 
 Count o’er His mercies and thy sin ; 
 
 Pray only that thine aching heart, 
 
 From visions vain content to part, 
 
 Strong for love’s sake its wo to hide, 
 
 May cheerful wait the cross beside, 
 
 Too happy, if that dreadful day 
 Thy life be given thee for a prey.* 
 
 Snatch’d sudden from th’ avenging rod, 
 
 Safe in the bosom of thy God, 
 
 * Jeremiah xlv. 4, 5. “The Lord saith thus : Be- 
 | hold, that which I have built will I break down, and J 
 that which I have planted I will pluck up, even this > 
 \ whole land. And seekest thou great things for thyself? < 
 ? seek them not, for, behold, I will bring evil upon all 
 S flesh, saith the Lord ; but thy life will I give unto thee < 
 < for a prey in all places whither thou goest.” ) 
 
$196 TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 How wilt thou then look baek, and smile 
 On thoughts that bitterest seem’d erewhile, 
 And bless the pangs that made thee see 
 This was no world of rest for thee ! 
 
 TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 f And looking up to heaven. He sighed, and saith unto l 
 i him, Pphphatha, that is, Be opened. — St. Mark vii. 34. \ 
 $ [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who art always £ 
 $ more ready to hear than we to pray, and art wont to \ 
 
 < give more than either we desire or deserve ; pour down $ 
 p upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us those > 
 
 < things whereof our conscience is afraid, and giving us < 
 ? those good things which we are not worthy to ask. but > 
 S through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ thy $ 
 $ Son our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 The Son of God in doing good 
 Was fain to look to heaven and sigh: 
 
 And shall the heirs of sinful blood 
 Seek joy unmix’d in charity? 
 
 God will not let love’s work impart 
 Full solace, lest it steal the heart ; 
 
 Be thou content in tears to sow, 
 
 Blessing, like Jesus, in thy wo. 
 
 He look’d to heaven, and sadly sigh’d— 
 
 What saw my gracious Saviour there, 
 
 With fear and anguish to divide 
 The joy of Heaven-accepted prayer ! 
 
 So o’er the bed where Lazarus slept 
 He to his Father groan’d and wept : 
 
TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 197 ] 
 
 What saw he mournful in that grave, 
 
 Knowing himself so strong to save ? 
 
 Overwhelming thoughts of pain and grief 
 Over his sinking spirit sweep ; — 
 
 “ What boots it gathering one lost leaf 
 Out of ypn sere and wither’d heap, 
 
 Where souls and bodies, hopes and joys, 
 
 All that earth owns or sin destroys, 
 
 Under the spurning hoof are cast, 
 
 Or tossing in th’ autumnal blast ?” 
 
 The deaf may hear the Saviour’s voice, 
 
 The fetter’d tongue its chain may break ; 
 
 But the deaf heart, the dumb by choice, 
 
 The laggard soul, that will not wake, 
 
 The guilt that scorns to be forgiven— 
 
 These baffle e’en the spells of Heaven ; 
 
 In thought of these, his brows benign 
 Not even in healing cloudless shine. 
 
 No eye but His might ever bear 
 To gaze all down that drear abyss, 
 
 Because none ever saw so clear 
 The shore of endless bliss ; 
 
 The giddy waves so restless hurl’d, 
 
 The vex’d pulse of this feverish world, 
 
 He views and counts with steady sight, 
 
 Used to behold the Infinite. 
 
 But that in such communion high 
 He hath a fount of strength within, 
 
 Sure His meek heart would break and die, 
 O’erburden’d by his brethren’s sin ; 
 
 Weak eyes on darkness dare not gaze, 
 
 It dazzles like the noon-day blaze ; 
 
 But He who sees God’s face may brook 
 On the true face of sin to look. 
 
What then shall wretched sinners do, 
 
 When in their last, their hopeless day, 
 
 Sin, as it is, shall meet their view, 
 
 God turn his fade for aye away ? 
 
 Lord, by thy sad and earnest eye, 
 
 When Thou didst look to heaven and sigli ; 
 Thy voice, that with a word could chase 
 The dumb, deaf spirit from his place ; 
 
 As thou hast touch’d our ears, and taught 
 Our tongues to speak thy praises plain, 
 Quell thou each thankless, godless thought 
 That would make fast our bonds again. 
 From worldly strife, from mirth unblest, 
 Drowning thy music in the breast, 
 
 From foul reproach, from thrilling fears, 
 Preserve, good Lord, thy servants’ ears. 
 
 From idle words, that restless throng. 
 
 And haunt our hearts when we would pray, 
 From pride’s false chime, and jarring wrong. 
 Seal Thou my lips, and guard the way : 
 
 For Thou hast sworn, that every ear, 
 
 Willing or loath, thy trump shall hear, 
 
 And every tongue unchained be 
 To own no hope, no God, but Thee. 
 
THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 199 [ 
 
 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AETER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 MOSES ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 , And he fumed him unto his disciples, and said \ 
 
 > privately, Blessed arc the eyes whch see the things S 
 ! that ye see : for I tell you, that many prophets and \ 
 ; kings have desired to see those things which ye see, ? 
 ! and have not seen them : and to hear those things S 
 ’ which ye hear, and have not heard them. — St. Luke < 
 ( x. 23, 24. [.Gospel for tfie Day .] 
 
 [Almighty and merciful God, of whose only gift it £ 
 cometh that thy faithful people do unto thee true and ! 
 laud bie service ; grant, we beseech thee, that we may 5 
 \ so faithfully serve thee in this life, that we tail not < 
 
 > finally to attain thy heavenly promises, through the £ 
 
 > merits of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 On Srhai’s top, in prayer and trance, 
 
 Full forty nights and forty days 
 
 The Prophet watch’d for one dear glance 
 Of Thee and of thy ways : 
 
 Fasting he watch’d and all alone, 
 
 Wrapt in a still, dark, solid cloud, 
 
 The curtain of the Holy One 
 Drawn round him like a shroud: 
 
 So, separate from the world, his breast 
 Might duly take and strongly keep 
 
 The print of Heaven, to be express’d 
 Ere long on Sion’s steep.* 
 
 See that thou make all things according to the > 
 pattern showed to thee in the mount.— Hebrews viii. 5. < 
 
I 200 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 There one by one his spirit saw 
 
 Of things divine the shadows bright, 
 
 The pageant of God’s perfect law ; 
 
 Yet felt not full delight. 
 
 Through gold and gems, a dazzling maze, 
 From veil to veil the vision led, 
 
 And ended, where unearthly rays 
 From o’er the Ark were shed. 
 
 Yet not that gorgeous place, nor aught 
 Of human or angelic frame, 
 
 Could half-appease his craving thought ; 
 
 The void was still the same. 
 
 “ Show me thy glory, gracious Lord ! 
 
 ’Tis Thee,” he cries, “ not thine, I seek.”*- 
 Nay, start not at so bold a word 
 From man, frail worm and weak : 
 
 The spark of his first deathless fire 
 Yet buoys him up, and high above 
 The holiest creature, dares aspire 
 To the Creator’s love. 
 
 The eye in smiles may wander round, 
 
 Caught by earth’s shadows as they fleet ; 
 But for the soul no help is found, 
 
 Save Him who made it, meet. 
 
 Spite of yourselves, ye witness this,f 
 Who blindly self or sense adore ; 
 
 * Exodus xxxiii. 18. 
 
 , f Penseesde Pascal, part 1, art. viii. [“Considerons \ 
 < le maintenant a I’egard de la felicite qu’il recherche S 
 ) avec tant d’ardeur en toutes ses actions. Car tous les < 
 hommes desirent d’etre heureux ; cela est sans excep- 5 
 tion. Quelques differents moyens qu’ils y emploient, < 
 ) ils tendent tous a ce but. Ce qui fait que l’un va a la £ 
 
THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 201 < 
 
 Else wherefore, leaving your own bliss, 
 
 Still restless ask ye more ? 
 
 This witness bore the saints of old, 
 
 When highest rapt and favour’d most, 
 
 Still seeking precious things untold, 
 
 Not in fruition lost. 
 
 Canaan .was theirs, and in it all 
 The proudest hope of kings dare claim ; 
 
 Sion was theirs ; and at their call 
 Fire from Jehovah came. 
 
 Yet monarchs walk’d as pilgrims still 
 In their own land, earth’s pride and grace; 
 
 And seers would mourn on Sion’s hill 
 Their Lord’s averted face. 
 
 Vainly they tried the deeps to sound 
 Even of their own prophetic thought, 
 
 When of Christ crucified and crdwn’d 
 His Spirit in them taught ; 
 
 But He their aching gaze repress’d, 
 
 Which sought behind the veil to see, 
 
 > guerre, et que 1’ autre n’y va pas ; c’est ce meme desir ? 
 S qui est dans tous les deux, accompagne de diffcrentes 5 
 ' vues. La volonie ne fait jamais la moindre demarche < 
 
 > que vers cet objet. C’est le motif de toutes les actions > 
 
 I de tous les hotnmes, jusqu’ a ceux qui se tuent et qui < 
 $ se pendent. ? 
 
 “ Et ce pendant depuis un de grand nombre.d'an- 5 
 , lees, jamais personne, sans la foi, n’est arrive a ce < 
 
 > point, ou tous tendent continuellement. Tous se plai- ) 
 
 > gnent, principes, sujets: nobles, roturiers ; vieillards, s 
 
 ? jeunes ; forts, foibles ; savants, ignorant9 ; sains, ma- 2 
 [ lades ; de tout pays, de tout temps ; de tous ages, et de 5 
 c toutes conditions.”] 5 
 

 i 202 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 For not without us fully bless’d* 
 
 Or perfect might they be. 
 
 The rays of the Almighty’s face 
 No sinner’s eye might then receive ; 
 
 Only the meekest man found gracej 
 To see his skirts and live. 
 
 But we as in a glass espy 
 The glory of His countenance, 
 
 Not in a whirlwind hurrying by 
 The too presumptuous glance, 
 
 But with mild radiance every hour. 
 
 From our clear Saviour’s face benign 
 
 Bent on us with transforming power, 
 
 Till we, too, faintly shine. 
 
 Sprinkled with His atoning blood. 
 
 Safely before our God we stand, 
 
 As on the rock the Prophet stood, 
 
 Beneath his shadowing hand.— 
 
 Bless’d eyes, which see the things we see ! 
 And yet this tree of life hath proved 
 
 To many a soul a poison tree, 
 
 Beheld, and not beloved. 
 
 So like an angel’s is our bliss, 
 
 (Oh ! thought to comfort and appal,) 
 
 It needs must bring, if used amiss, 
 
 An angel’s hopeless fall. 
 
 * Hebrews xi. 40. That they without us should not £ 
 > be made perfect. 
 
 t Exodus xxxiii. 20—23. 
 
FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 203 < 
 
 FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. . 
 
 THE TEN LEPERS. 
 
 1 
 
 \ cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not 5 
 ( found that returned to give glory to God, save this ^ 
 ? stranger. — St. Luke xvii. 17, 18. [ Oospel for the > 
 { Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting Cod, give unto us the { 
 
 > increase of faith, hope, and charity ; and that we may 
 
 l obtain that which thou dost promise, make us to love < 
 
 > that which thou dost command, through Jesus Christ \ 
 [ our Lord. Amen .] 
 
 Ten cleansed, and only one remain ! 
 
 Who would have thought our nature’s stain 
 Was dyed so foul, so deep in grain ? 
 
 Even He who reads the heart, 
 
 Knows what He gave and what we lost, 
 
 Sin’s forfeit, and redemption’s cost, — 
 
 By a short pang of wonder cross’d, 
 
 Seems at the sight to start. 
 
 Yet ’twas not wonder, but His love 
 Our wavering spirits would reprove, 
 
 That heavenward seem so free to move 
 When earth can yield no more : 
 
 Then from afar on God we cry ; 
 
 But should the mist of wo roll by, 
 
 Not showers across an April sky 
 Dr.ift, when the storm is o’er, 
 
 Faster than those false drops and few 
 Fleet from the heart, a worthless dew. 
 
 What sadder scene can angels view 
 Than self-deceiving tears, 
 
j 204 FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Pour’d idly over some dark page 
 Of earlier life, though pride or rage 
 The record of to-day engage, 
 
 A wo for future years? 
 
 Spirits, that round the sick man’s bed 
 Watch’d, noting down each prayer he made, 
 Were your unerring roll display’d, 
 
 His pride of health t’ abase; 
 
 Or, when soft showers in season fall, 
 Answering a famish’d nation’s call, 
 
 Should unseen fingers on the wall 
 Our vows forgotten trace i 
 
 How should we gaze in trance of fear 1 
 Yet shines the light as thrilling clear 
 From heaven upon that scroll severe, 
 
 “ Ten cleansed, and one remain !” 
 
 Nor surer would the blessing prove 
 Of humbled hearts, that own thy love, 
 Should choral welcome from above 
 Visit our senses plain, 
 
 Than by Thy placid voice and brow, 
 
 With healing first, with comfort now, 
 
 Turn’d upon him who hastes to bow 
 Before Thee, heart and knee ; 
 
 “ Oh ! thou, who only would’st be blest, 
 
 On thee alone iny blessing rest ! 
 
 Rise, go thy way in peace, possess’d 
 For evermore of me.” 
 
FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 205 
 
 FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD. 
 
 Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. — St. 
 Matthew vi. 28. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Keep, we beseech thee, O Lord, thy Church with 
 thy perpetual mercy; and because the frailty of man 
 without thee cannot but fail, keep us ever by thy help 
 from all things hurtful, and lead us to all things profit- 
 able to our salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen.] 
 
 Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies, 
 
 Bathed in soft airs, and fed with dew, 
 What more than magic in you lies, 
 
 To fill the heart’s fond view? 
 
 In childhood’s sports, companions gay,* 
 
 In sorrow, on life’s downward way, 
 
 How soothing! in our last decay 
 Memorials prompt and true. 
 
 $ * [“ Look at the little child on the meadow, no 
 
 > matter though it has been born in the very heart of a 
 < city, and seen nothing but brick walls, and crowds, 
 
 ? and rolling carriages, and pavements, and dust ; let it 
 S once get its feet upon the sward, and it will toss away 
 ( the most costly playthings, and never gather enough of 
 
 > the butter-cups, and daisies, and other wild flowers 
 S which prank the sod. And if it shall start a little bird, 
 
 I which bounces onward with easy wing, as if it were 
 leaping from portion to portion of the sightless air, how 
 it will stretch its little hands, and shout, and hurry on 
 to catch the living tieasure, which, in its young, but 
 perfectly natural estimation, is of more value than the 
 wealth of the world. And if the bird perches on the 
 hedge or the tree, and sings its sweet song of security. 
 
206 FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Relics ye are of Eden’s bowers, 
 
 As pure, as fragrant, and as fair, 
 
 As when ye crown’d the sunshine hours 
 Of happy wandarers there. 
 
 Fallen all beside— the world of life, 
 
 How is it stain’d with fear and strife ! 
 
 In reason’s world what storms are rife, 
 What passions rage and glare ! 
 
 But cheerful and unchanged the while 
 Your first and perfect form ye show, 
 The same that won Eve’s matron smile 
 In the world’s opening glow. 
 
 The stars of heaven a course are taught 
 Too high above our human thought; — 
 Ye may be found if ye are sought, 
 
 And as we gaze, we know. 
 
 Ye dwell beside our paths and homes, 
 Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow, 
 And guilty man, where’er he roams, 
 
 Your innocent mirth may borrow. 
 
 The birds of air before us fleet, 
 
 They cannot brook our shame to meet — 
 But we may taste your solace sweet 
 And come again to-morrow. 
 
 Ye fearless in your nests abide — 
 
 Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise, 
 Your silent lessons, undescried 
 By all but lowly eyes : 
 
 < the little finger will at once be held up by their little s 
 ? ear, and the other hand will be extended with the palm l 
 ^backward, as if a sign were given by Nature herself) 
 
 < for the world to listen and admire.”— Mudie's Obser- £ 
 ) vation of Mature , p. 35.] 
 
SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 207 
 
 ] For ye could draw th’ admiring gaze 
 i Of Him who worlds and hearts surveys: 
 
 \ Your order wild, your fragrant maze, 
 
 | He taught us how to prize. 
 
 ] Ye felt your Maker’s smile that hour, 
 i As when he paused and own’d you good ; 
 
 < What care ye now, if winter’s storm 
 ( Sweep ruthless o’er each silken form ? 
 | Christ’s blessing at your heart is warm, 
 
 > Ye fear no vexing mood. 
 
 ? Alas! of thousand bosoms kind, 
 
 > That daily court you and caress, 
 
 > How few the happy secret find 
 ] Of your calm loveliness ! 
 
 { “ Live for to-day ! to-morrow’s light 
 
 ' To-morrow’s cares shall bring -to sight; 
 
 \ Go sleep like dosing flowers at night, 
 
 | And Heaven thy morn will bless.” 
 
 SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 ( I desire that ye faint not at my tribulations for you, 
 which is your glor y— Ephesians iii. 13. [Epistle for 
 s the Day.] 
 
 > [O Lord, we beseech thee, let thy continual pity 
 • cleanse and defend thy church; and because it cannot 
 
 > continue in safety without thy succour, preserve it 
 [ evermore by thy help and goodness, through Jesus 
 \ Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
‘ 208 SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Wish not, dear friends, my pain away — 
 
 Wish me a wise and thankful heart, 
 
 With God, in all my griefs, to stay, 
 
 Nor from His loved correction start. 
 
 The dearest 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 ? 
 
 But we, like vex’d, unquiet sprites, 
 
 Will still be hovering o’er the tomb, 
 
 Where buried lie our vain delights, 
 
 Nor sweetly take a sinner’s doom. 
 
 In life’s long sickness evermore 
 Our thoughts are tossing to and fro : 
 
 We change our posture o’er and o’er, 
 
 But cannot rest, nor cheat our wo. 
 
 Were it not better to lie still, 
 
 Let Him strike home, and bless the rod; 
 
 Never so safe as when our will 
 Yields undiscern’d by all but Gocf?* 
 
 * [“ Content can never dwell but in a meek and quiet ; 
 
 < soul. And this may appear, if we consider what our < 
 5 Saviour says in St. Matthew’s gospel ; for there he ? 
 
 < says, ‘ Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain 5 
 
 > mercy : blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see < 
 S God : blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs is the ) 
 £ kingdom of God: and blessed are the meek, for they < 
 i shall possess the earth.’ Not that the meek shall not ? 
 
 < also obtain mercy, and see God, and be comforted, and < 
 ? at last come to the kingdom of heaven ; but, in the < 
 s mean time, he, and he only,' possesses the earth as he 5 
 r goes towards that kingdom of heaven, by being < 
 i humble and cheerful, and content with what his good < 
 
 < God has allotted him. He has no turbulent, repining, < 
 
 ? vexatious thoughts, that he deserves better ; nor is < 
 
 > vexed when he sees others possessed of more honour ) 
 
^ SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 209 \ 
 
 Thy precious things, whate’er they he 
 That haunt and vex thee, heart and brain, 
 
 Look to* the Cross, and thou shalt see 
 How thou may’st turn them all to gain. 
 
 Lovest thou praise ?— the Cross is shame ; 
 
 Or ease ?— the Cross is bitter grief : 
 
 More pangs than tongue or heart can frame 
 Were suffer’d there without relief. 
 
 We of that altar would partake, 
 
 But cannot quit the cost — no throne 
 
 Is ours, to leave for Tjiy dear sake— 
 
 We cannot do as Thou hast done. 
 
 We cannot part with heaven for Thee — 
 
 Yet guide us in thy track of love; 
 
 Let us gaze on where light should be, 
 Though not a beam the clouds remove. 
 
 So wanderers ever fond and true 
 
 Look homeward through the evening sky, 
 
 Without a streak of heaven’s soft blue 
 To aid affection’s dreaming eye. 
 
 The wanderer seeks his native bower. 
 
 And we will look and long for Thee, 
 
 And thank Thee for each trying hour, 
 Wishing, not struggling, to be free. 
 
 > or more riches than his wise God has allotted for his l 
 l share; but he possesses what tie has with a meek and l 
 
 > contented quietness, such a quietness as makes his very ; 
 ; droains pleasure both to God and himself .” — Isaac \ 
 
 Walton's Complete Angler .] 
 
 14 
 
*j"210 SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 EZEKIEL’S VISION IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 Every man of the house of Israel that setteth up his > 
 
 < idols in his heart, and putteth the stumbling-block of l 
 ) his iniquity before his face, and cometh to the Prophet, > 
 s 1 the Lord will answer him according to the multitude £ 
 ? of his idols.— Ezekiel xiv. 4. [ First Morning Lesson, 
 
 £ Church oj England .] 
 
 [Lord, we pray thee, that thy grace may always $ 
 
 < prevent and follow us ; and make us continually to be < 
 ? given to all good works, through Jesus Christ our ? 
 j Lord, Jimen.] 
 
 \ Stately thy walls, apd holy are the prayers 
 Which day and night before thine altars rise; 
 
 | Not statelier, towering o’er her marble stairs, 
 Flash’d Sion’s gilded dome to summer skies ; 
 
 ^ Not holier, while around him angels bow’d, 
 
 From Aaron’s censer steam’d the spicy cloud, 
 
 \ Before the mercy-seat. O Mother dear, 
 
 Wilt thou forgive thy son one boding sigh ; 
 j Forgive, if round thy towers he walk in fear, 
 
 And tell thy jewels o’er with jealous eye ? 
 
 $ Mindful of that sad vision, which in thought* 
 
 ) From Chebar’s plains the captive prophet brought i 
 
 ] To see lost Sion’s shame. ’Twas morning prime, 
 And, like a queen new-seated on her throne, 
 
 ^ God’s crowned mountain, as in happier time, 
 Seem’d to rejoice in sunshine all her own ; 
 
 * Ezekiel viii. 3. 
 
SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 211*|" 
 
 > So bright, while all in shade around her lay, 
 
 ' Her northern pinnacles had caught th’ emerging j 
 
 ray. 
 
 ! The dazzling lines of her majestic roof 
 ! Cross’d with as free a span the vault of heaven, 
 
 I As when twelve tribes knelt silently aloof, 
 
 Ere Gon his answ r er to their king had given,* 
 
 I Ere yet upon the new-built altar fell 
 ; The glory of the Lord, the Lord of Israel. 
 
 All seems the same ; but enter in and see 
 What idol shapes are on the wall portray’d ;f 
 And watch their shameless and unholy glee, 
 
 Who worship there in Aaron’s robes array’d : 
 Here Judah’s maids the dirge to Thammuz pour,! $ 
 
 ! And mark, her chiefs yon orient sun adore.§ 
 
 Yet turn thee, son of man — for worse than these j 
 Thou must behold ; thy loathing were hut lost 
 ! On dead men’s crimes, and Jews’ idolatries— 
 
 Come, learn to tell aright thine own sins’ ] 
 cost, — 
 
 > And sure their sin as far from equals thine, 
 
 As earthly hopes abused are less than hopes \ 
 
 divine. 
 
 | What if within His world, His Church, our Lord \ 
 Have enter’d thee, as in some temple gate, 
 
 I Where, looking round, each glance might thee \ 
 afford 
 
 Some glorious earnest of thine high estate, 
 
 And thou, false heart and frail, hast turn’d from < 
 all 
 
 > To worship pleasure’s shadow on the wall ? 
 
>212 SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. ^ 
 
 ^ If, when the Lord of glory was in sight, 
 
 Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear, 
 
 $ To bow before the “ little drop of light,” 
 
 Which diin-eyed men call praise and glory ^ 
 here ; 
 
 ] What dost thou, but adore the sun, and scorn 
 < llim at whose only word both sun and stars were £ 
 born ? 
 
 | If, while around thee gales from. Eden breathe, 
 
 ) Thou hide thine eyes, to make tliy peevish £ 
 j moan 
 
 > Over some broken reed of earth beneath, 
 l Some darling of blind fancy dead and gone, 
 
 ] As wisely might’st thou in Jehovah’s fane 
 I Offer thy love and tears toThammuz slain. 
 
 <j Turn thee from these, or dare not to inquire 
 ) Of Him whose name is Jealous, lest in wrath 
 5 He hear and answer thine unblest desire : 
 
 \ Far better we should cross his lightning’s path / 
 
 ] Than be according to our idols heard, 
 
 \ And God should take us at our own vain word. 
 
 Thou who hast deign’d the Christian’s heart to [ 
 call ; 
 
 Thy church and shrine ; whene’er our rebel \ 
 will 
 
 \ Would in that chosen home of thine install 
 Belial or Mammon, grant us not the ill 
 $ We blindly ask ; in very love refuse 
 \ Whate’er thou know’st our weakness would \ 
 abuse. 
 
 \ Or rather help us, Lord, to choose the good, 
 
 To pray for naught, to seek to none but Thee, 
 

 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 213 ] 
 
 Nor by “our daily bread” mean common food, 
 Nor say, “ From this world's evil set us free 
 Teach us to love, with Christ, our sole true 
 bliss, 
 
 Else, though in Christ’s, own words, we surely 
 pray amiss. 
 
 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AETER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS. I 
 
 I will bring you into the wilderness of the people, 5 
 and there will I plead with you face to face : like as 1 l 
 pleaded with your fathers in the wilderness of the land > 
 of Egypt, so will 1 plead with you, saith the Lord < 
 God . — Ezekiel xx. 35, 36. [First Morning Lesson, ? 
 Church of England .J l 
 
 [Lord, we beseech thee, grant thy people grace to j 
 withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and $ 
 the devil ; and with pure hearts and minds to follow < 
 thee, the only God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. ? 
 Amen.'] \ 
 
 It is so— ope thine eyes, and see— 
 
 What view’st thou all around ? 
 
 A desert, where iniquity i 
 
 And knowledge both abound. > 
 
 In the waste howling wilderness 
 
 The Church is wandering still,* ? 
 
 Because we would not onward press \ 
 
 When close to Sion’s hill. > 
 
 * Revelation xii. 14. 
 
 -f 
 
214 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Back to the world we faithless turn'd, 
 And far along the wild. 
 
 With labour lost and sorrow earn'd, 
 Our steps have been beguiled. 
 
 Yet full before us, all the while 
 The shadowing pillar stays^ 
 
 The living waters brightly smile, 
 
 Th’ eternal turrets blaze. 
 
 Yet Heaven is raining angel’s bread 
 To be our daily food, 
 
 And fresh, as when it first was shed, 
 Springs forth the Saviour’s blood. 
 
 From every region, race, and speech, 
 Believing myriads throng, 
 
 Till, far as sin and sorrow reach, 
 
 Thy grace is spread along ; 
 
 Till sweetest nature, brightest art, 
 Their votive incense bring, 
 
 And every voice and every heart 
 
 Own Thee their God and King. 
 
 All own, but few, alas! will love; 
 
 Too like the recreant band 
 That with thy patient Spirit strove 
 Upon the Red-sea strand. 
 
 Oh Father of long-suffering grace, 
 Thou who hast sworn to stay 
 Pleading with sinners face to face 
 Through all their devious way : 
 
 How shall we speak to Thee, O Lord, 
 Or how in silence lie ? 
 
 Look on us, and we are abhorr’d, 
 Turn from us, and we die. 
 
EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 215 
 
 •+ 
 
 Thy guardian fire, thy guiding cloud, 
 
 Still let them gild our wall. 
 
 Nor be our foes and thine allow’d 
 To see us faint and fall. 
 
 Too oft, within this camp of thine, 
 
 Rebellious murmurs rise ; 
 
 Sin cannot bear to see Thee shine 
 So awful to her eyes. 
 
 Fain would our lawless hearts escape. 
 
 And with the heathen be, 
 
 To worship every monstrous shape 
 In fancied darkness free.* 
 
 Vain thought, that shall not be at all ! 
 
 Refuse we or obey, 
 
 Our ears have heard tti’ Almighty’s call, 
 
 We cannot be as they. 
 
 We cannot hope the heathen’s doom, 
 
 To whom God’s Son is given, 
 
 Whose eyes have seen beyond the tomb, 
 
 Who have the key of heaveja. 
 
 Weak tremblers on the edge of wo, 
 
 Vet shrinking from true bliss, 
 
 Our rest must be “ no rest below,” 
 
 And let our prayer be this : 
 
 “ Lord, wave again thy chastening rod, 
 
 Till every idol throne 
 Crumble to dust, and Thou, O God, 
 
 Reign in our hearts alone. 
 
 * Ezekiel xx. 32. That which cometh into your \ 
 mind shall not be at all, that ye say, We will be as the ) 
 
 , heathen, as the families of the countries, to serve wood ( 
 
 ) and stone. > 
 
 4 - - 4 - 
 
>216 NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 I Bring all our wandering fancies home, 
 
 ) For thou hast every spell, 
 
 I And ’mid the heathen where they roam, 
 
 | Thou knowest, Lord, too well. 
 
 ( Thou know’st our service sad and hard, 
 
 \ Thou know’st us fond and frail ; — 
 
 Win us to be beloved and spared 
 When all the world shall fail. 
 
 So when at last our weary days 
 Are well-nigh wasted here, 
 
 And we can trace thy wondrous ways 
 In distance calm and clear, 
 
 When in thy love and Israel’s sin 
 We read our story true, 
 
 We may not, all too late, begin 
 To wish our hopes were new : 
 
 Long loved, long tried, long spared as they, 
 Unlike in this alone, 
 
 That, by thy grace, our hearts shall stay 
 For evermore thine own.” 
 
 NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 SHADRACH, MESHACH, AND ABEDNEGO. 
 
 Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astonished, and [ 
 ? rose up in haste, and spake, an^ said unto his counsel- ^ 
 5 lors. Did we not cast three men bound into the midst l 
 > of the fire? They answered and said unto the king, > 
 ) True, O king. He answered and said, Lo, I see four s 
 < men loose, walking in the midst, of the fire, and they ? 
 ? have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the S 
 [ Son of God . — Daniel iii. 24, 25. [First Morning ( 
 \ Lesson , Church of England .] ■ 
 
NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 217 < 
 
 [O God, forasmuch as without thee we are not able l 
 ^ to please thee; mercifully grant thpt thy Holy Spirit > 
 } may in all things direct and rule our hearts, through 
 \ Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen .] 
 
 When persecution’s torrent blaze 
 Wraps the unshrinking martyr’s head ; 
 
 When fade all earthly flowers and bays, 
 
 When summer friends are gone and fled, 
 
 Is he alone in that dark hour 
 
 Who owns the Lord of love and power ? 
 
 Or waves there not around his brow 
 A wand no human arm may wield, 
 
 Fraught with a^ spell no angels know, 
 
 His steps to guide, his soul to shield? 
 
 Thou, Saviour, art his charmed bower, 
 
 His magic ring, his rock, his tower. 
 
 And when the wicked ones behold 
 Thy favourites walking in thy light, 
 
 Just as, in fancied triumph bold, 
 
 They deem’d them lost in deadly night, 
 Amazed thdy cry, “ What spell is this, 
 
 Which turns their sufferings all to bliss? 
 
 How are they free whom we had bound, 
 
 Upright, whom in the gulf we cast ? 
 
 What wondrous helper have they found 
 To screen them from the scorching blast? 
 Three were they— Who hath made them four?^ 
 And sure a form divine he wore, 
 
 Even like the Son of God.” So cried 
 The tyrant, when in one fierce flame 
 The martyrs lived, the murderers died ; 
 
 Yet knew he not what angel came 
 
218 NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY'. 
 
 To make the rushing fire-flood seem 
 Like summer breeze by woodland stream.* 
 
 He knew not, but there are who know: 
 
 The matron, who alone hath stood, 
 
 When not a prop seem’d left below, 
 
 The first lorn hour of widowhood. 
 
 Yet cheer’d and cheering all, the while, 
 With sad but unaffected smile ; — 
 
 The father, who his vigil keeps 
 By the sad couch whence hope hath flown, 
 Watching the eye where reason sleeps, 
 
 Yet in his heart can mercy own, 
 
 Still sweetly yielding to the rod, 
 
 Still loving man, still thanking God; — 
 
 The Christian paster, bow’d to earth 
 With thankless toil, and vile esteem’d, 
 Still travailing in second birth 
 Of souls that will not be redeem’d, 
 
 Yet steadfast set to do his part, 
 
 And fearing most his own vain heart ; — 
 
 These know : on these look long and well, 
 Cleansing thy sight by prayer and faith, 
 And thou shalt know what secret spell 
 Preserves them in their living death : 
 Through sevenfold flames thine eye shall see 
 The Saviour walking with his faithful three. 
 
 \ * Song of the Three Children, ver. 27. “And made 
 
 < the midst of the furnace as it had been a moist whist- \ 
 | ling wind, [so that the fire touched them not at all, 
 neither hurt nor troubled them.’’] 
 
TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 219 < 
 
 TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 Hear ye, O mountains, the Lord’s controversy, and ] 
 ; ye strong foundations of the earth. — Micah. vi. 2. \ 
 
 > L First Evening Lesson , Church of England .] 
 
 [O Almighty and most merciful God, of thy bounti- 
 ? ful goodness keep us, we beseech thee, from all things ) 
 that may hurt us; that we, being ready both in body ; 
 and soul, may cheerfully accomplish those things which ? 
 thou commandest, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen .] 
 
 ; Where is thy favour’d haunt, eternal Voice, 
 
 The region of thy choice, 
 
 \ Where, undisturb’d by sin and earth, the soul 
 Owns thine entire control ? — 
 
 > ’Tis on the mountain’s summit dark and high, 
 When storms are hurrying by : 
 
 \ ’Tis ’mid the strong foundations of the earth, 
 Where torrents have their birth. 
 
 ; No sounds of worldly toil ascending there, 
 
 Mar the full burst of prayer; 
 
 Lone Nature feels that she may freely breathe, 
 And round us and beneath 
 ’ Are heard her sacred tones : the fitful sweep 
 Of winds across the steep, 
 
 ! Through wither’d bents— romantic note and clear, \ 
 Meet for a hermit’s ear, — 
 
 The wheeling kite’s wild, solitary cry, 
 
 And, scarcely heard so high, 
 
 ! The dashing waters when the air is still, 
 l From many a torrent rill 
 
4 - — — 
 
 $ 220 TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 > That winds unseen beneath the shaggy fell, 
 
 Track’d by the blue mist well : 
 i Such sounds as make deep silence in the heart, 
 For thought to do her part. 
 
 ’T is then we hear the voice of God within, 
 Pleading with care and sin : 
 
 \ “Child of my love ! how have I wearied thee? 
 
 Why wilt thou err from me ? 
 
 ] Have I not brought thee from the house of slaves, \ 
 Parted the drowning waves, 
 
 $ And set my saints before thee in the way, 
 
 <> Lest thou should’st faint or stray ? 
 
 ? What ! was the promise made to thee alone? 
 
 > Art thou th’ excepted one? 
 
 $ An heir of glory without grief or pain ? 
 jj O vision false and vain ! 
 
 < There lies thy cross ; beneath it meekly bow ; 
 
 < It fits thy stature now : 
 
 < Who scornful pass it with averted eyej 
 
 $ ’T will crush them by and by. 
 
 < Raise thy repining eyes, and take true measure I 
 
 I* Of thine eternal treasure; 
 
 i The Father of thy Lord can grudge thee naught, ; 
 ? The world for thee was bought : 
 
 > And as this landscape broad— earth, sea, and j 
 
 > sky, — j 
 
 All centres in thine eye, 
 
 j!So all God does, if rightly understood, 
 
 Shall work thy fina.1 good.” \ 
 
TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 221 I 
 
 TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE RED-BREAST IN SEPTEMBER. 
 
 The vision is yet for an appointed time; but at the 
 5 end it shall speak and not lie; though it tarry, wait for 
 
 > it, because it will surely come, it will not tarry. — Ha- 
 \ balckuk ii. 3. [ First Morning Lesson, Church of 
 
 ' England. ] < 
 
 , [Grant, we beseech thee, merciful Lord, to thy faith- s 
 i ful people, pardon and peace ; that they may be £ 
 ! cleansed from all their sins, and serve thee with a quiet > 
 ; mind, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 The morning mist is clear’d away, 
 
 Yet still the face of heaven is gray, 
 
 ; Nor yet th’ autumnal breeze has stirr’d the grove ; 
 Faded yet full, a paler green 
 Skirts soberly the tranquil scene, 
 
 | The red-breast warbles round this leafy cove. 
 
 Sweet messenger of “ calm decaty,” 
 
 Saluting sorrow as you may, 
 
 ! As one still bent to find or make the best, 
 
 In thee and in this quiet mead 
 The lesson of sweet peace I read, 
 
 > Rather in all to be resign’d than blest. 
 
 ’Tis a low chant, according well 
 With the soft solitary knell. 
 
 As homeward from some grave beloved we turn, 
 Or by some holy death-bed dear, 
 
 Most welcome to the chasten’d ear 
 
 > Of her whom Heaven is teaching how to mourn. ! 
 
+- 
 
 ( 222 TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 O cheerful, tender strain ! the heart 
 That only bears with you its part, 
 
 | Singing so thankful to the dreary blast. 
 
 Though gone and spent its joyous prime, 
 
 Arid on the world’s autumnal time, 
 
 ^ ’Mid wither’d hues and sere, its lot be cast : 
 
 That is the heart for thoughtful seer, 
 Watching, in trance nor dark nor clear,* 
 
 £ Th’ appalling future as it nearer draws; 
 
 His spirit calm’d the storm to meet. 
 
 Feeling the rock beneath his feet, 
 f And tracing through the cloud th’ eternal Cause. 
 
 That is the heart for watchman true 
 Waiting to see what God will do, 
 
 \ As o’er the Church the gathering twilight falls ; 
 
 * Zechariah xiv. 6. It shall come to pass in that 
 
 < day, that the night shall not be clear nor dark. 
 
 < Note .— The expression, “calm decay,” is borrowed 
 5 from a friend : by whose kind permission the following 
 5 stanzas are here inserted : 
 
 TO THE RED-BREAST. 
 
 Unheard in summer’s flaring ray. 
 
 Pour forth thy notes, sweet singer. 
 
 Wooing the stillness of the autumn day: 
 
 Bid it a moment linger. 
 
 Nor fly 
 
 Too soon from winter’s scowling eye. 
 
 The blackbird’s song at eventide, 
 
 And her’s who gay ascends,* 
 
 Filling the heavens far and wide, 
 
 Are sweet. But none so blends 
 As thine, 
 
 With calm decay, and peace divine. 
 
 ; [The sky-lark.] 
 
 4 - 
 
\ TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 223 j 
 
 No more he strains his wistful eye, £ 
 
 If chance the golden hours be nigh, 
 
 > By youthful Hope seen beaming round her walls. I 
 Forced from his shadowy paradise, 
 
 His thoughts to heaven the steadier rise ; 
 
 \ There seek his answer when the world reproves ; £ 
 Contented in his darkling round, 
 
 If only he be faithful found, 
 
 When from the east th’ eternal morning moves. 
 
 TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE RULE OF CHRISTIAN FORGIVENESS. 
 
 Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and 
 \ I forgive him 1— St. Matthew xviii. 21. [Gospel for 
 
 > the Dap.'] 
 
 [Lord, we beseech thee to keep thy household the 
 
 > Church in continual godliness; that, through thy pro- 
 ? tection, it may be free from all adversities, and de- 
 $ voutly given to serve thee in good works, to the 
 { glory of thy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 
 > Amen.] 
 
 What liberty so glad and gay 
 As where the mountain boy, 
 
 Reckless of regions far away, 
 
 A prisoner lives in joy 7 
 The dreary sounds of crowded earth, 
 
 The cries of camp or town, 
 
 Never untuned his lonely mirth, 
 
 Nor drew his visions down. 
 
 The snow-clad peaks of rosy light 
 That meet his morning view, 
 
 The thwarting cliffs that bound his sight, 
 
 They bound his fancy too. 
 
T 224 TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. "f" 
 
 Two ways alone his roving eye 
 For aye may onward go, 
 
 Or in the azure deep on high, 
 
 Or darksome here below. 
 
 O blest restraint ! more blessed range ! 
 
 Too soon the happy child 
 His nook of homely thought will change 
 For life’s seducing wild : 
 
 Too soon his alter’d day-dreams show 
 This earth a boundless space, 
 
 With sun-bright pleasures to and fro 
 Sporting in joyous face; 
 
 While of his narrowing heart each year 
 Heaven less and less will fill, 
 
 Less keenly, through his grosser ear, 
 
 The tones of mercy thrill. 
 
 It must be so : else wherefore falls 
 The Saviour’s voice unheard, 
 
 While from His pardoning cross He calls, 
 
 “ O spare as I have spared?” 
 
 By our own niggard rule we try 
 The hope to suppliants given ; 
 
 We mete our love, as if our eye 
 Saw to the end of heaven. 
 
 Yes, ransom’d sinner! would’st thou know 
 How often to forgive. 
 
 How dearly to embrace thy foe, 
 
 Look where thou hopest to live: 
 
 When thou hast told those isles of light, 
 And fancied all beyond, 
 
 Whatever owns, in depth or height, 
 Creation’s wondrous bond; 
 
j TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 225 \ 
 
 Then in their solemn pageant learn 
 Sweet mercy’s praise to see : 
 
 Their Lord resign’d them all, to earn 
 The bliss of pardoning thee. 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE FOREST LEAVES IN AUTUMN. 
 
 Who shall change our vile body, that it may be ? 
 [ fashioned like unto His glorious body, according to ; 
 \ the working wh/ereby He is able even to subdue all < 
 
 > things unto himself. Philippians iii. 21. Epistle for ? 
 \ the Day.] 
 
 , [O God, our refuge and strength, who art the author S 
 
 > of all godliness ; be ready, we beseech thee, to hear $ 
 £ the devout prayers of thy Church; and grant that < 
 
 those things which we ask faithfully, we may obtain 4 
 y effectually, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 \ Red o’er the forest peers the setting sun ; 
 
 > The line of yellow light dies fast away 
 
 > That crown’d the eastern copse ; and chill and \ 
 
 dun 
 
 Falls on the moor the brief November day. 
 
 ! Now the tired hunter winds a parting note, 
 
 And Echo bids good night from every glade ; 
 
 ! Yet wait awhile, and see the calm leaves float 
 Each to his rest beneath their parent shade. 
 
 ; How like decaying life they seem to glide ! 
 
 And yet no second spring have they in store, 
 
 ; But where they fall, forgotten to abide, 
 
 Is all their portion, and they ask no more. 
 
 15 
 
226 TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. \ 
 
 Soon o’er their heads blithe April airs shall sing, > 
 ) A thousand wild flowers round them shall un- j 
 fold, 
 
 > The green buds glisten in the dews of spring, 
 
 And all be vernal rapture as of old. 
 j Unconscious they in waste oblivion lie; 
 t In all the world of busy life around 
 | No thought, of them ; in all the bounteous sky 
 No drop, for them, of kindly influence found. 
 
 ! Man’s portion is to die and rise again — 
 
 Yet he complains, while these unmurmuring \ 
 part ( 
 
 ; With their sweet lives, as pure from sin and j 
 stain, 
 
 As his when Eden held his virgin heart. 
 
 > And, haply, half-unblamed his murmuring voice $ 
 
 Might sound in heaven, were all his second life \ 
 ! Only the first renew’d— the heathen’s choice, 
 
 A round of listless joy dnd weary strife. 
 
 ; For dreary were this earth, if earth were all, 
 
 Though brighten’d oft by dear affection’s kiss;— I 
 ' Who for the spangles wears the funeral pall ? 
 
 But catch a gleam beyond it, and ’tis bliss. 
 
 ; Heavy and dull this frame of limbs and heart, 
 Whether slow creeping on cold earth, or borne £ 
 
 > On lofty steed, or loftier prow, we dart 
 
 O’er wave or field ; yet breezes laugh to scorn 
 
 ! Our puny speed,, and birds, and clouds in heaven, $ 
 And fish, like living shafts that pierce the > 
 main, < 
 
 And stars that shoot through freezing air at \ 
 even — ' \ 
 
 Who but would follow, might he break his £ 
 chain ? 
 
XXIVTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 227 \ 
 
 l And thou shalt break it soon; the grovelling 
 worm 
 
 Shall find his wings, and soar as fast and free 
 
 > As his transfigured Lord with lightning form 
 
 And snowy vest— such grace He won for thee. 
 
 \ When from the grave he sprung at dawn of morn, J 
 And led through boundless air thy conquering- i 
 road, ; 
 
 ? Leaving a glorious track, where saints new-born ; 
 Might fearless follow to their blest abode. 
 
 i But first, by many a stern and fiery blast 
 
 > The world’s rude furnace must thy blood refine, 
 
 ! And many a gale of keenest wo be pass’d, 
 
 Till every pulse beat true to airs divine, 
 
 s Till every limb obey the mounting soul, 
 
 < The mounting soul, the call by Jesus given. 
 
 £ He who the stormy heart can so control, 
 
 * The laggard body soon will waft to heaven. 
 
 TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 IMPERFECTION OF HUMAN SYMPATHY. 
 
 The heart knoweth his own bitterness, and a stranger J 
 5 doth not intermeddle with his joy .' — Proverbs xiv. 10. ; 
 [ First Evening Lesson, Church of England ] 
 
 ) [ O Lord, we beseech thee, absolve thy people from ] 
 
 s their offences; that through thy bountiful goodness, i 
 ( we may all be delivered from the bands of those sins \ 
 
 > which by our frailty we have committed. Grant this, 
 
 < O heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ’s sake, our bless- 
 
 > ed Lord and Saviour. Amen.] 
 
j 228 XXIVTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 5 Why should we faint and fear to live alone, 
 
 | Since all alone, so Heaven has will’d, we die,* ] 
 < Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, 
 
 \ Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh ? j 
 
 Each in his hidden sphere of joy or wo 
 Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart; 
 
 ^ Our eyes see all around, in gloom or glow, 
 
 Hues of their own, fresh borrow’d from the ^ 
 heart. 
 
 \ And well it is for us our God should feel 
 Alone our secret throbbings : so our prayer 
 \ May readier spring to Heaven, nor spend its zeal £ 
 On cloud-born idols of this lower air. 
 
 j For if one heart in perfect sympathy 
 
 Beat with another, answering love for love, 
 
 | Weak mortals all entranced on earth would lie, 
 Nor listen for those purer strains above. 
 
 | Or what if Heaven for once its searching light 
 Lent to some partial eye, disclosing all 
 l The rude bad thoughts, that in our bosom’s night $ 
 Wander at large, nor heed love’s gentle thrall ? s 
 
 s * Je mourrai seul. Pascal. [The entire passage is s 
 as follows : “ Pour moi, je n’ai pu m’y arreter ni me ( 
 ? reposer dans la socicte do cos personnes semblables a / 
 5 moi, miserables comme moi. Jevoisqu’ils ne m’aide- s 
 
 < roient pas a mourir, je mourrai seul ; i) faut done faire l 
 > comme si j’etais seul ; ou, si,j’etois seul je ne batirois > 
 
 < point des maisons, je ne m’embarrasserois point dans ( 
 \ ies occupations tumultuaires, je ne chercherois I’estime ? 
 5 de personne ; mais je tacherois seulement de couvrir ) 
 
 < la verite.” — Pensees, c. viii. sec. 1.] 
 
$ XXIVTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 229 \ 
 
 S’ Who would not shun the dreary uncouth place ? 
 
 ? As if, fond leaning where her infant slept, 
 
 > A mother’s arm a serpent should embrace : 
 
 5 So might we friendless live, and die unwept. 
 
 \ Then keep the softening veil in mercy drawn, 
 
 \ Thou who canst love us, though thou read us \ 
 
 < true; 
 
 l As on the bosom of th’ aerial lawn 
 
 Melts in dim haze each coarse ungentle hue. 
 
 ) So too may soothing Hope thy leave enjoy 
 
 > Sweet visions of long sever’d hearts to frame ; 
 
 5 Though absence may impair, or cares annoy, 
 
 l Some constant mind may draw us still the same. \ 
 
 < We in dark dreams are tossing to and fro, 
 
 \ Pine with regret, or sicken with despair, 
 i; The while she bathes us in her own chaste glow, £ 
 
 And with our memory wings her own fond S’ 
 prayer. 
 
 ] O bliss of child-like innocence, and love 
 Tried to old age! creative power to win, 
 
 £ And raise new worlds, where happy fancies rove, 
 Forgetting quite this grosser world of sin. 
 
 > Bright are their dreams, because their thoughts \ 
 
 are clear, > 
 
 Their memory cheering ; but the earth-stain’d > 
 sprite, 
 
 \ Whose wakeful musings are of guilt and fear, 
 Must hover nearer earth, and less in light. 
 
 \ Farewell, for her, the ideal scenes so fair— 
 
 Yet not farewell her hope, since Thou hast <; 
 deign’d, 
 
 { Creator of all hearts ! to own and share 
 
 The wo of what Thou madest, and we have ^ 
 stain’d. 
 
230 XXVTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 ] Thou know’st our bitterness— our joys are thine ;* \ 
 No stranger Thou to all our wanderings wild; 
 
 ] Nor could we bear to think, how every line 
 Of us, thy darken’d likeness and defiled, 
 
 \ Stands in full sunshine of thy piercing eye, 
 
 ; But that thou call’st us brethren : sweet repose 
 | Is in that word— the Lord who dwells on high 
 Knows all, yet loves us better than He knows. 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY - . 
 
 THE TWO RAINBOWS. 
 
 The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found 
 in the way of righteousness . — Proverbs xvi. 31. [ First 
 Evening Lesson , Church of England .] 
 
 [Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy £ 
 ! faithful people ; that they, plenteously bringing forth ; 
 / the fruit of good works, may by thee be plenteously S 
 £ rewarded, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 The bright-hair’d morn is glowing 
 O’er emerald meadows gay, 
 
 With many a clear gem strowing 
 The early shepherd’s way. 
 
 Ye gentle elves, by fancy seen 
 Stealing away with night 
 To slumber in your leafy screen, 
 
 Tread more than airy light. 
 
 * Psalm xxxi. 7. Thou hast known my soul in ad- 
 { versifies. ^ 
 
XXVTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 231 j 
 
 And see what, joyous greeting 
 
 The sun through heaven has shed; 
 Though fast yon shower be fleeting, 
 
 His beams have faster sped, 
 
 For lo! above the western haze 
 High towers the rainbow arch 
 In solid span of purest rays : 
 
 How stately is its march ! 
 
 Pride of the dewy morning! 
 
 The swain’s experienced eye 
 From thee takes timely warning,* 
 
 Nor trusts' the gorgeous sky ; 
 
 For well he knows, such dawnings gay 
 Bring noons of storm and showej, 
 
 And travellers linger on the way 
 Beside the sheltering bower. 
 
 Even so, in hope and trembling, 
 
 Should watchful shepherd view 
 His little lambs assembling, 
 
 With glance both kind and true; 
 
 ’Tis not the eye of keenest blaze, 
 
 Nor the quick-swelling breast 
 That soonest thrills at touch of praise— 
 These do not please him best. 
 
 But voices low r and gentle, 
 
 And timid glances shy, 
 
 That seem for aid parental 
 To sue all wistfully, 
 
 Still pressing, longing to be right, 
 
 Yet fearing to be wrong— 
 
 In these the pastor dares delight, 
 
 A lamb-like, Christ-like throng. 
 
 * [The rainbow in the morning 
 
 Is the sailor’s warning. Old proverb .] 
 
These in life’s distant even 
 Shall shine serenely bright, 
 
 As in th’ autumnal heaven 
 Mild rainbow tints at night, 
 
 When the last shower is stealing down, 
 And ere they sink to rest. 
 
 The sun-beams weave a parting crown 
 For some sweet woodland nest. 
 
 The promise of the morrow 
 Is glorious on that eve,* 
 
 Dear as the holy sorrow 
 When good men pease to liVe; 
 
 When, brightening ere it die away, 
 Mounts up their altar flame, 
 
 Still tending with intenser ray 
 To heaven, whence first it came. 
 
 Say not it dies, that glory,— 
 
 ’T is caught unquench’d on high ; 
 Those saint-like brows so hoary 
 Shall wear it in the sky. 
 
 No smile is like the smile of death. 
 When all good musings past 
 Rise wafted with the parting breath, 
 The sweetest thought the fast. 
 
 SUNDAY NEXT BEFORE ADVENT. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION BEFORE ADVENT. 
 
 , Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing 5 
 > be lost. — St. John vi. 12. [Gospel for the Day.] b 
 
 * [The rainbow at night 
 Is the sailor’s delight. 
 
 Old proverb .] 
 
[Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy \ 
 5 faithful people; that they, plenteousiy bringing forth l 
 < the fruit of good works, may by thee be plenteousiy $ 
 \ rewarded, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Will God indeed with fragments bear, 
 Snatch’d late from the decaying year? 
 
 Or can the Saviour’s blood endear 
 The dregs of a polluted life? 
 
 When down th’ o’erwhelming current toss’d, 
 Just ere he sink, for ever lost, 
 
 The sailor’s untried arms are cross’d 
 ^ In agonizing prayer, will ocean cease her strife? | 
 
 Sighs that exhaust but not relieve, 
 Heart-rending sighs, oh, spare to heave 
 A bosom freshly taught to grieve 
 
 For lavish’d hours and love misspent ! 
 
 Now through her round of holy thought 
 The Church our annual steps lias brought, 
 
 But We no holy fire have caught — 
 
 | Back on the gaudy world our wilful eyes were \ 
 bent. 
 
 Too soon th’ ennobling carols, pour’d 
 To hymn the birth-night of the Lord,* 
 
 Which duteous memory should have stored 
 For thankful echoing all the year — 
 
 Too soon those airs have pass’d away; 
 
 Nor long within the heart would stay 
 The silence of Christ’s dying day,f 
 | Profaned by worldly mirth, or scared by worldly \ 
 fear. 
 
 Some strain of hope and victory 
 On Easter wings might lift us high; 
 
 A little while we sought the sky : 
 
 * [Christmas.] 
 
 t [Good Friday.] 
 
And when the Spirit’s beacon fires* 
 
 On every hill began to blaze, 
 
 Lightening the world with glad amaze, 
 
 Who but must kindle while they gaze ? 
 
 \ But faster than she soars, our earth-bound fancy \ 
 tires. 
 
 Nor yet for these, nor all the rites 
 By which our Mother’s voice invites 
 Our God to bless our home delights, 
 
 And sweeten every secret tear ; — 
 
 The funeral dirge, the marriage vow, 
 
 The hallow’d font where parents bow, 
 
 And now elate and trembling now 
 ] To the Redeemer’s feet their new-found treasures [ 
 bear : 
 
 Not for the pastor’s gracious arm 
 Stretch’d out to bless— a Christian charm 
 To dull the shafts of worldly harm : — 
 
 Nor, sweetest, holiest, best of all, 
 
 For the dear feast of Jesus dying, 
 
 Upon that altar ever lying, 
 
 Where souls with sacred hunger sighing 
 j Are call’d to sit and eat, while angels prostrate } 
 fall ; — 
 
 No, not for each and 1 all of these 
 Have our frail spirits found their ease. 
 
 The gale that stirs th’ autumnal trees 
 Seems tuned as truly to our hearts 
 As when, twelve weary months ago, 
 
 ’Twas moaning bleak, so high and low, 
 
 You would have thought remorse and wo 
 J Had taught the innocent air their sadly thrilling j 
 parts. 
 
 * [Whitsunday.] 
 
SUNDAY NEXT BEFORE ADVENT. 235 { 
 
 Is it, Christ’s light is too divine, 
 
 We dare not hope like Him to shine? 
 
 But see, around His dazzling shrine 
 
 Earth’s gems the fire of Heaven have \ 
 caught ; 
 
 Martyrs and saints— each glorious day 
 Dawning in order on our way— 
 
 Remind us, how our darksome clay 
 ! May keep th’ ethereal warmth our new Creator | 
 brought. 
 
 These we have scorn’d, O false and frail ! 
 
 And now once more th’ appalling tale, 
 
 How love divine may woo and fail, 
 
 Of our lost year in heaven is t6ld — 
 
 What if as far our life were past, 
 
 Our weeks all number’d to the last, 
 
 With time and hope behind us cast, 
 
 ! And all our work to do with palsied hands and { 
 cold ? 
 
 O watch and pray ere Advent dawn! 
 
 For thinner than the subtlest lawn 
 ’Twixt thee and death the veil is drawn. 
 
 But love too late can never glow : 
 
 The scatter’d fragments love can glean, 
 
 Refine the dregs, and yield us clean 
 To regions where one thought serene 
 | Breathes sweeter than whole years of sacrifice \ 
 below. 
 
; 236 
 
 st. Andrew’s day. 
 
 ST. ANDREW’S' DAY.* 
 
 [NOVEMBER 30.] 
 
 He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith > 
 I unto him, We have found the Messias ; and he < 
 \ brought him unto Jesus. St. John i. 41, 42. 
 
 [Almighty God, who didst give such grace unto thy \ 
 
 > holy Apostle Saint Andrew, that he readily obeyed l 
 
 > the calling of thy Sun Jesus Christ, and followed him 5 
 
 > without delay ; grant unto us all, that we, being called < 
 
 > by thy holy word, may forthwith give up ourselves 1 
 
 > obediently to fulfil thy holy commandments, through S 
 | the same, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 When brothers part for manhood’s race, 
 
 What gift may most endearing prove 
 To keep fond memory in her place, 
 
 And certify a brother’s love 7 
 
 * [St, Andrew was a native of Bethsaida, in Gali- 
 ! lee. He was the son of a fisherman named Jonas, 
 
 ; and the brother of Simon, sumamed Peter. He had 
 i been the disciple of John the Baptist, and was one of 
 ; the two to whom John pointed out the Saviour as 
 1 “ the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the 
 \ world.” It was his happiness to introduce his more 
 ; illustrious brother, the apostle Peter, to the knowledge 
 
 > of Jesus: hence sometimes called, in reference to 
 ! Peter’s emblematic name, “ the rock before the rock.” 
 
 > He was ordained an apostle by our Lord. It is said 
 
 > that Scythia was chiefly the field of his labours ; and 
 J that the instrument of his martyrdom was a cross of 
 
 a peculiar form (X), known as St. Andrew’s Cross. 
 The Scotch, who chose him as their patron saint, had 
 [ a tradition that his remains were brought to St. An- 
 drews, A. D. 368, and entombed there. The festival 
 \ of St. Andrew determines the beginning of the season > 
 
3T. Andrew’s day. 237 ] 
 
 ’T is true, bright hours together told, 
 
 And blissful dreams in secret shared, 
 
 Serene or solemn, gay or bold, 
 
 Shall last in fancy unimpair’d. 
 
 Even round the death-bed of the good 
 Such dear remembrances will hover, 
 
 And haunt us with no vexing mood 
 When all the cares of earth are over. 
 
 But yet our craving spirits feel 
 We shall live on, though fancy die, 
 
 And seek a surer pledge — a seal 
 Of love to last eternally. 
 
 Who art thou, that wouldst grave thy name 
 Thus deeply in a brother’s heart. ?* 
 
 Look on this saint, and learn to frame 
 Thy love-charm with true Christian art. 
 
 First seek thy Saviour out, and dwell 
 Beneath the shadow of his roof,f 
 Till thou have scann’d his features well, 
 
 And known Him for the Christ by proof— 
 
 of Advent. (See note on Advent Sunday.) The \ 
 honour of thus announcing, as it were, the coming of ? 
 the Lord, may have been assigned to him, says Bishop S 
 Sparrow, because “ it was he who first came to Christ, s 
 and followed him before any of the other apostles.”] 
 
 * [It is a beautiful circumstance that the two disci- $ 
 pies who first came to Jesus were brothers in the flesh, 5 
 and that the one led the other to him. The bond of ( 
 brotherhood may well be close and holy. But how ) 
 much more so when, as here, nature is consecrated ] 
 by grace !] 
 
 t [When Andrew and the other disciple to whom l 
 John spake, had followed Jesus till they saw where ) 
 , he dwelt, they “ abode with him that day ” The ac- < 
 
I 238 
 
 ST. ANDDEW S DAY. 
 
 Such proof as they are sure to find, 
 
 Who spend with him their happier days ; 
 
 Clean hands, and a self-ruling mind 
 Ever in tune for love and praise. 
 
 Then, potent with the spell of heaven, 
 
 Go, and thine erring brother gain ;* 
 
 Entice him home to be forgiven, 
 
 Till he, too, see his Saviour plain. 
 
 Or, if before thee in the race. 
 
 Urge him with thine advancing tread, 
 
 Till, like twin stars, with even pace, 
 
 Each lucid course be duly sped. 
 
 No fading frail memorial give 
 To soothe his soul when thou art gone, 
 
 But wreathes of hope for aye to live, 
 
 And. thoughts of good together done. 
 
 That so, before the judgment-seat 
 Though changed and glorified each face, 
 
 Not unremembered ye may meet 
 Fot endless ages to embrace.! 
 
 , count which John had given of him made them in < 
 
 > earnest to know him, and they took the proper means, ? 
 
 J personal acquaintance. They did not go, and look, s 
 
 > and come away. They “ abode with him.” Is it not £ 
 
 \ universally in his sacrificial character, as the Lamb of > 
 
 > God, taking away sin, that the Saviour permanently < 
 
 > impresses the hearts of men,— draws them and keeps ? 
 
 I them ?] 
 
 , * [“ He first findeth his own brother Simon, and l 
 
 > saith unto him, We have found the Messias ; and he ( 
 
 \ brought him to Jesus.” His intercourse with him > 
 
 | whom John describes as the “ Lamb of God,” enabled s 
 i Andrew to recognise him as the Messias, the Christ, ? 
 
 | or Anointed.] 5 
 
 ^ t [There is here allusion made to that hope of re-^ 
 
ST. THOMAS’ DAT.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 21.] 
 
 Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast be- j 
 ? lieved : blessed are they that have not seen, and yet < 
 ) have believed. — St. John xx. 29. [ Gospel for the < 
 $ Day.] 
 
 > [Almighty and ever living God, who. for the greater j 
 ; confirmation of the faith, didst suffer thy holy Apostle l 
 
 < Thomas to be doubtful in thy Son’s resurrection ; \ 
 ) grant us so perfectly, and without all doubt, to believe < 
 s in thy Son Jesus Christ, that our faith in thy sight may ; 
 £ never be reproved. Hear us, O Lord, through the i 
 5 same Jesus Christ; to whom, with thee and the Holy 
 
 < Ghost, be all honour and glory, now and for evermore. ; 
 \ Amen.] 
 
 We were not by when Jesus came,f 
 But round us, far and near, 
 
 i cognition in a future state in which many pious Chris- , 
 tians not groundlessly indulge. Bishop Mant, in his < 
 “ Happiness of the Blessed,” has fully investigated < 
 the subject, by the light of Scripture, and shown it to \ 
 be at least probable. There is an able sermon, too, on < 
 < this interesting subject, by my long-loved friend, the \ 
 \ Rev. Benjamin Dorr, rector of Trinity Church, Utica. < 
 ■, — Since the first edition, this sermon has been en- ( 
 ) larged and published in a neat little volume, entitled, 
 i “ Recognition of Friends in another World.”] 
 
 ] * [Thomas, called also Didymus, the twin, was a 
 
 < fisherman of Galilee. He is chiefly memorable for 
 ) his strange incredulity, and its complete conviction, 
 j He was an apostle of our Lord, and is said by Origen 
 ? to have laboured chiefly in Parthia. A race of Chris- 
 $ tians have been found near the coast of Malabar, 
 
 < known as the “ Christians of St. Thomas,” and claim- 
 ) ing spiritual descent from him. See Dr. Buchanan’ 
 
 < very interesting “ Christian Researches in India.” ] 
 
 \ t St. John xx. 24. Thomas, one of the twelve, 
 
 ' called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. 
 
 ian s 
 
 •”J l 
 
 elve, l 
 
ST. THOMAS’ DAY. 
 
 We see his trophies, and his name 
 In choral echoes hear. 
 
 In a fair ground our lot is cast, 
 
 As in the solemn week that past, 
 
 While some might doubt, but all ador’d,* 
 
 \ Ere the whole widow’d Church had seen her risen [ 
 Lord. 
 
 Slowly, as then, His bounteous hand 
 The golden chain unwinds, 
 
 Drawing to Heaven with gentlest band 
 Wise hearts and loving minds. 
 
 Love sought him first— at dawn of mornf 
 From her sad couch she sprang forlorn, 
 
 She sought to weep with Thee alone, 
 
 > And saw thine open grave, and knew that thou \ 
 wert gone. 
 
 Reason and Faith at once set outf 
 To search the Saviour’s tomb ; 
 
 Faith faster runs, but waits without, 
 
 As fearing to presume, 
 
 Till Reason enter in, and trace 
 Christ’s relics round the holy place— 
 
 “ Here lay His limbs, and here Ilis sacred \ 
 head, 
 
 > And who was by, to make his new-forsaken bed?” [ 
 
 * St. Matt, xxviii: 17. When they saw him^they^ 
 ] worshipped him: but some doubted. 
 
 t St. Mary Magdalen’s, visit to the sepulchre; 
 
 [“ Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung, 
 Not she denied him with unholy tongue : 
 
 She, while apostles shrunk, could danger brave, 
 Last at his cross, and earliest at his grave.” 
 
 Woman , a Poem , by Barret .] 
 t St. Peter and St. John. 
 
t 
 
 ST. THOMAS’ DAY. 
 
 241 < 
 
 Both wonder, one believes— but while 
 They muse on all at home, 
 
 No thought can tender love beguile 
 From Jesus’ grave to roam. 
 
 Weeping she stays till He appear — 
 
 Her witness first the Church must hear* — 
 
 All joy to souls that can rejoice 
 | With her at earliest call of His dear gracious ^ 
 voice. 
 
 Joy too to those, who love to talk 
 In secret how He died, 
 
 Though with seal’d eyes awhile they walk, 
 Nor see Him at their side; 
 
 Most like the faithful pair are they.f 
 Who once to Emmaus took their way, 
 
 Half darkling, till their Master shed 
 | His glory on their souls, made.known in break- 
 ing bread. 
 
 Thus, ever brighter and more bright, 
 
 On thosei he came to save 
 The Lord of new-created light 
 Dawn’d gradual from the grave: 
 
 Till pass’d th’ inquiring daylight hour, 
 
 And with clos’d door in silent bowerj 
 
 ‘ [The first appearance of the risen Saviour was to \ 
 her out of whom he had cast seven devils. A touch- ? 
 ing circumstance, full of encouragement, and beauti- S 
 ? fully illustrative of His tender love, who is not willing ( 
 S that any should perish, and desires the salvation even [ 
 ( of the chief of sinners.] 
 t [St. Luke xxiv. 13-32.] 
 
 | [St. John xx. 19. Then the same day at evening, l 
 ? being the first day of the week, when the doors were \ 
 5 shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the > 
 < Jews, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and said ( 
 ) unto them, Peace be unto you.] 
 
 16 
 
I 242 
 
 ST. THOMAS DAY. 
 
 The Church in anxious musing sate, 
 
 | As one who for redemption still had long to wait. ! 
 
 Then, gliding through th’ unopening door, 
 Smooth without step or sound, 
 
 “ Peace to your souls,” He said — no more— 
 They own him, kneeling round. 
 
 Eye, ear, and hand, and loving heart,* 
 
 Body and soul in every part, 
 
 Successive made his witnesses that hour. 
 
 \ Cease not in all the world to show his saving < 
 power. 
 
 Is there, on earth, a spirit frail, 
 
 Who fears to take their word, 
 
 Scarce daring, through the twilight pale, 
 
 To think he sees the Lord? 
 
 With eyes too tremblingly awake 
 To bear with dimness for His sake? 
 
 Read and confess the hand divine 
 \ That drew thy likeness here so true in every | 
 line. 
 
 For all thy rankling doubts so sore, 
 
 Love thou thy Saviour still, 
 
 Him for thy Lord and God adore, t 
 And ever do His will. 
 
 * [He snowed unto them his hands and his side.] 
 t [The unbelief of Thomas, or, as the Collect ex- < 
 | presses it, his “doubtfulness in Christ’s resurrection” 
 removed, most naturally carries him to the fullest ex- 
 pression of his conviction not only of that fact, but of ) 
 J his lull divinity, “ My Lord, and my God!’’ — Is not \ 
 > this ardour of conviction very characteristic in him \ 
 < who before had said, “ Let us also go, that we may [ 
 £ die with him?”— -St. Johnx. i. t6.] \ 
 
THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. 243: 
 
 Though vexing thoughts may seem to last, 
 
 Let not thy soul be quite o’ercast ; — 
 
 Soon wiil he show thee all His wounds, and j 
 say, 
 
 ‘ Long have I known thy name*— know thou my \ 
 face alway.” 
 
 THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL.t 
 
 {JANUARY 25.] 
 
 And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying 
 s unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And ho | 
 ? said, Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord said, I am < 
 i Jesus whom thou persecutest . — Acts ix. 4,5. [Scry?- 
 j ture for the Epistle .] 
 
 [O God, who through the preaching of the blessed < 
 l Apostle Saint Paul, hast caused the light of the gospel < 
 > to shine throughout the world ; grant, we beseech thee, ! 
 
 < that we, having his wonderful conversion in remem- < 
 ) brance, may show forth our thankfulness unto thee for > 
 £ the same, by following the holy doctrine which he 
 
 £ taught, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 1 > 
 
 The midday sun, with fiercest glare, 
 
 Broods o’er the hazy, twinkling air; 
 
 Along the level sand 
 The palm tree’s shade unwavering lies, 
 
 Just as thy towers, Damascus, rise 
 To greet yon wearied band. 
 
 * In Exodus xxxiii. 17, God says to Moses, “ I know ] 
 
 < thee by name meaning, “ L bear especial favour ^ 
 
 towards thee.” Thus our Saviour speaks to St. > 
 } Thomas by name in the place here referred to. S 
 
 t [Paul, whose name was Saul, was a Jew of Tar- > 
 
 < sus in Cilicia. He was instructed in all the learning of $ 
 ? his nation by the celebrated Gamaliel. In accordance, , 
 
J 244 THE CONVERSION OF ST. FAUL. 
 
 > The leader of that martial crew 
 [ Seems bent some mighty deed to do, 
 
 $ So steadily he speeds, 
 
 With lips firm closed and fixed eye, 
 Like warrior when the fight is nigh, 
 Nor talk nor landscape heeds. 
 
 What sudden blaze is round him pour’d, 
 As though all heaven’s refulgent hoard 
 In one rich glory shone ? 
 
 One moments— and to earth he falls; 
 What voice his inmost heart appals ?— 
 Voice heard by him alone. 
 
 For to the rest both words and form 
 Seem lost in lightning and in storm, 
 While Saul, in wakeful trance, 
 
 Sees deep within that dazzling field 
 His persecuted Lord reveal’d 
 With keen yet pityiitg glance ; 
 
 And hears the meek upbraiding call 
 As gently on his spirit fall, 
 
 As if th’ Almighty Son 
 
 however, with Jewish usages, he learned the trade of s 
 £ a tent-maker. Being a great zealot for the law, he ex- l 
 £ erted himself in every way to oppose Christianity, and 
 
 > destroy its professors. It was on a journey of persecu- 
 ( tion to Damascus, that he was suddenly arrested by a 
 
 \ light from heaven, and miraculously converted to the s 
 
 > Christian faith by the voice of the Lord Jesus himself, l 
 J At the same time he was called to bean Aposile, and S 
 
 > sent especially to the Gentiles. After great labours and < 
 
 > perils, in which he planted many churches, and wrote > 
 
 > fourteen epistles, he suffered martyrdom at Rome, < 
 
 s under Nero, A. D. 68. The festival appointed in his ? 
 I honour commemorates, not, as usual, his death, but S 
 S his conversion. The argument for the truth of Chris- t 
 < tianity from this event hgs been most admirably stated / 
 ? by Lord Lyttleton.] < 
 
THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. 245 
 
 Were prisoner yet in this dark earth, 
 
 Nor had proclaim’d his royal birth, 
 
 Nor his great power begun. 
 
 “Ah ! wherefore persecutest thou me ?” 
 
 He heard and saw, and sought to free 
 His strain’d eye from the sight ; 
 
 But Heaven’s high magic bound it there, 
 
 Still gazing, though untaught to bear 
 Th’ insufferable light. 
 
 “ Who art thou, Lord?” he falters forth 
 So shall sin ask of heaven and earth 
 At the last awful day, 
 
 “ When did we see thee suffering nigh,* 
 
 And pass’d thee with unheeding eye ? 
 
 Great God of judgment, say !” 
 
 Ah ! little dream our listless eyes 
 What glorious presence they despise. 
 
 While, in our noon of life, 
 
 To power or fame we rudely press, — 
 
 Christ is at hand, to scorn or bless, 
 
 Christ suffers in our strife. 
 
 And though heaven gate long since have closed, | 
 And our dear Lord iii bliss reposed 
 High above mortal ken, 
 
 To every ear in every land 
 (Though meek ears only understand)! 
 
 He speaks as He did then. 
 
 * St. Matthew xxv. 44. 
 t [Is it not to meekness, as the fruit of faith, that the \ 
 rjchest encouragements of the Scripture are given ? ) 
 “ The meek will he t^uide in judgment, and the meek S 
 will he teach his way.” The same sentiment is im- l 
 bodied in the promise of the same Psalm, (-25.) “ The > 
 secret of the Lord is with them that fear him.” It is < 
 
£246 THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 \ “All ! wherefore persecute ye me ? 
 
 I ’Tis hard, ye so in love should be* 
 
 With your own endless wo. 
 
 Know, though at God’s right hand I live, 
 
 I feel each wound ye reckless give 
 ; To the least saint below. 
 
 I in your care my brethren left,f 
 Not willing ye should be bereft 
 Of waiting on your Lord. 
 
 The meanest offering ye can make — 
 
 A drop of water— for love’s sake,J. 
 
 In heaven, be sure, is stored.” 
 
 Oh ! by those gentle tones and dear, 
 
 When Thou hast stay’d our wild career, 
 
 Thou only hope of souls, 
 
 Ne’er let us cast one look behind, 
 
 But in the thought of Jesus find 
 What every thought controls. 
 
 As to thy last Apostle’s heart 
 Thy lightning glance did then impart 
 Zeal’s never-dying fire, 
 
 > the meek and contrite spirit which is described by £ 
 J Isaiah as trembling at God’s word. And is not the < 
 
 > spirit of meekness the spirit of that precious text, “ If > 
 
 i any man will do his will, he shall know of the doc- S 
 £ trine, whether it be of God?” At least it may be said, < 
 s that meekness is eminently the element of Christian £ 
 £ discipleship.] < 
 
 J * r It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks” — < 
 
 > resistance to the will of God is self-destruction. The £ 
 5 figure is taken from the eastern mode of driving oxen £ 
 
 > with a goad, against which the restive animal kicks < 
 
 > back, and hurts himself.] 
 
 t [“ The poor ye have always with you.”] 
 t St. Matthew x. 42. 
 
t 
 
 THE PURIFICATION. 
 
 247 \ 
 
 So teach us on thy shrine to lay 
 Our hearts, and let them day by day 
 Intenser blaze and higher. 
 
 And as each mild and winning note 
 (Like pulses that round harp-strings float, 
 When the full strain is o’er) 
 
 Left lingering on his inward ear 
 Music, that taught, as death drew near, 
 Love’s lesson more and more ; 
 
 So, as we walk our earthly round, 
 
 Still may the echo of that sound 
 Be in our memory stored ; 
 
 “Christians ! behold your happy state ; 
 Christ is in these, who round you wait ; 
 Make much of your dear Lord !” 
 
 THE PURIFICATION.* 
 
 [FEBRUARY 2 .] 
 
 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. \ 
 ; — St. Matthew v. 8. 
 
 ( [Almighty and everliving God, we humbly beseech \ 
 ) thy Majesty, that as thy only begotten Son was this ? 
 < clay presented in the Temple in substance of our flesh ; ) 
 > so we may be presented unto thee with pure apd clean ? 
 ] hearts, by the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. [ 
 $ Amen.] 
 
 Bless’d are the pure in heart. 
 
 For they shall see our God, 
 
 The secret of the Lord is theirs, 
 
 Their soul is Christ’s abode. 
 
 * [This is a double festival. It commemorates the 
 ^offering under the law made by the blessed mother, and^. 
 
248 THE PURIFICATION. 
 
 \ Might mortal thought presume 
 
 To guess an angel’s lay, 
 
 Such are the notes that echo through 
 The courts of heaven to-day. 
 
 Such the triumphal hymns 
 On Sion’s Prince that wait, 
 
 In high procession passing on 
 Towards His temple-gate. 
 
 Give ear, ye kings— bow down, 
 
 Ye rulers of the earth— 
 
 This, this is He ; your Priest by grace. 
 Your God and King by birth. 
 
 No pomp of earthly guards 
 Attends with sword and spear, 
 
 And all-defying, dauntless look, 
 
 Their monarch’s way to clear. 
 
 the presentation, in agreement with the provision of the i 
 ! same law, of the incarnate Son, in the temple of his s 
 J Father. The narrative, as it is recorded by St. Luke i. 22 l 
 
 > — 33, needs no explanation, and can receive no addi- 5 
 1 tional interest. In the Book ofCotnmon Prayer, the name < 
 ? of the festival is more fully descriptive of its objects, — > 
 S “ The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, commonly £ 
 l called the Purification of St. Mary the Virgin.” It is also ? 
 
 known in England as “ Candlemas day,” because for- i 
 ! merly at its celebration candles were lighted in the ^ 
 ? churches. ‘‘We carry lights in our hands,” says a 
 | writer of the twelfth century, quoted by Bishop Spar- 
 l row, “ first, to signify that our light should shine before < 
 
 > men; secondly, this we do this day especially in me- ) 
 tnory of the wise virgins, of whom this blessed virgin < 
 
 [ is the chief, who went to meet their Lord with their > 
 
 , lamps lighted and burning.” But a better reason is < 
 
 ’ found in the description given of our Lord on this < 
 i occasion, by good old Simeon, as “ a light to lighten ^ 
 
 ; the Gentiles.” The practice was interdicted in 1348, r 
 ' by the order of Archbishop Cranmer.J 
 
THE PURIFICATION. 
 
 249 ] 
 
 Yet are there more with him 
 Than all that are with you — 
 
 The armies of the highest heaven, 
 
 All righteous, good, and true. 
 
 Spotless their robes and pure, 
 
 Dipp’d in the sea of light 
 That hides the un approached shrine 
 From men’s and angels’ sight. 
 
 His throne, thy bosom blest, 
 
 O Mother undefiled — 
 
 That throne, if aught beneath the skies, 
 Beseems the sinless child. 
 
 Lost in high thoughts, “ whose son 
 The wondrous Babe might prove,” 
 
 Her guileless husband walks beside, 
 Bearing the hallow’d dove ;* 
 
 Meet emblem of His vow, 
 
 Who, on this happy day, 
 
 His dove-like soul— best sacrifice — 
 
 Did on God’s altar lay. 
 
 But who is he, by yearsf 
 Bow’d, but erect in heart, 
 
 Whose prayers are struggling with his tears ? 
 “ Lord, let me now depart. 
 
 Now hath thy servant seen 
 Thy saving health, O Lord : 
 
 ’Tis time that I depart in peace, 
 According to thy word.” 
 
 * [This was the offering permitted by the law to the < 
 poor. “ And if she be not able to bring a lamb, then £ 
 she shall bring two turtle-doves.’’ — Leviticus, xii. 8. 1 
 So did he, who was rich, for our sakes become poor.] I 
 t [Simeon, a man just and devout, who waited for > 
 the consolation of Israel.] 
 
$ 250 THE PURIFICATION. 
 
 Yet swells the pomp: one more 
 Comes forth to bless her God : 
 
 Full fourscore years, meek widow, she* 
 
 Her heavenward way hath trod. 
 
 She who to earthly joys 
 So long had given farewell', 
 
 Now sees, unlook’d for, heaven on earth, 
 Christ in His Israel. 
 
 Wide open from that hour 
 The temple-gates are set, 
 
 And still the saints rejoicing there 
 The holy Child have met. 
 
 Now count his train to-day, 
 
 Aud who may meet him, learn : 
 
 Him child-like sires, meek maidens find, 
 Where pride can naught discern. 
 
 Still to the lowly soul 
 He doth himself impart, 
 
 And for His cradle and His throne \ 
 
 Chooseth the pure in heart.f j 
 
 * [Anna, a prophetess, a widow of about fourscore ( 
 
 > and four years, which departed not from the temple, ? 
 j but served God with fastings and prayers night and £ 
 i day. Such as these two devout and holy persons are \ 
 
 > they to whom, in all ages, the Lord’s Christ has been > 
 
 ] revealed.] \ < 
 
 t [There are more senses than one in which the < 
 
 > blessedness of seeing God belongs to the pure in heart. > 
 
 > To them it is given to understand his will here, as > 
 
 > hereafter to know even as they are known.] > 
 
[FEBRUARY 24.] 
 
 Wherefore of these men, which have companied |> 
 | with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and < 
 ' out among us; beginning from the baptism of John, ? 
 I until that same day that he was taken up from us, 5 
 1 must one be ordained to be a witness with us of his l 
 I resurrection. — Acts i. 21, 22. f Scripture for the? 
 ; Epistle .] < 
 
 [O Almighty God, who into the place of the traitor > 
 } Judas didst choose thy faithful servant Matthias, to > 
 
 > be of the number of the twelve apostles ; grant that < 
 ! thy Church, being always preserved from false apos- \ 
 } ties, may be ordered and guided by faithful and true < 
 
 > Pastors, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. J ? 
 
 Who is God’s chosen priest ? 
 
 He, who on Christ stands waiting day and night, l 
 1 Who traced His holy steps, nor ever ceased 
 From Jordan banks to Bethphage height ; 
 
 Who hath learned lowliness 
 From his Lord’s cradle, patience from his cross ; 
 
 ! Whom poor men’s eyes and hearts consent to \ 
 bless; 
 
 To whom, for Christ, the world is loss ; 
 
 Who both in agony 
 
 Hath seen Him and in glory ; and in both 
 
 > Own’d Him divine, and yielded, nothing loath, 
 
 Body and soul, to live and die, 
 
 * [St. Matthias, probably of the seventy, was chosen < 
 
 I under the divine direction, to supply the vacant apos- ? 
 
 ; tleship of Judas, who, “ by transgression, fell.” It is ] 
 
 • remarkable that this event, as St. Peter plainly showed ? 
 
 I (Acts i. 20), was the subject of express prophecy.] 
 
252 
 
 ST. MATTHIAS DAY. 
 
 In witness of his Lord, 
 
 ! In humble following of his Saviour dear ; 
 j This is the man to wield th’ unearthly sword, 
 Warring unharm’d with- sin and feaf. 
 
 But who can e’er suffice* — 
 
 \ What mortal— for this more than angel’s task, 
 
 > Winning or losing souls, Thy life-blood’s price? 
 
 ’ The gift were too divine to ask, 
 
 But Thou hast made it sure 
 $ By Thy dear promise to Thy Church and Bride, 
 
 \ That Thou, on earth, would’st aye witii her 
 endure, 
 
 Till earth to heaven be purified-! 
 
 \ Thou art her only spouse, 
 
 '< Whose arm supports her, on whose faithful breast 
 ^ Her persecuted head she meekly bows, 
 
 | Sure pledge of her eternal rest. 
 
 { Thou, her unerring guide, 
 
 j Stayest her fainting steps along the wild; 
 i Thy mark is on the bowers of lust and pride, 
 
 | That she may pass them undefiled. 
 
 $ Who then, uncall’d by Thee, 
 
 j Dare touch thy spouse, thy very self below ? 
 j Or who dare count him summon’d worthily, 
 
 > Except thine hand and seal he show ? 
 
 > Where can thy seal be found, 
 
 \ But on the chosen seed, from age to age 
 
 ( * [Who is sufficient for these things ? — 2 Corinthians 5 
 
 5 ii. 16.] s 
 
 < t [Lo, l am with you always, even unto the end of / 
 l the world. — St. Matthew xxviii. 20.1 
 

 By thine anointed heralds duly crown’d, 
 
 As kings and priests thy war to wage ?* 
 
 Then fearless walk we forth, 
 
 Yet full of trembling, messengers of God : 
 
 Our warrant sure, but doubting of our worth, 
 
 By our own shame alike and glory awed. 
 
 Dread Searcher of the hearts, 
 
 Thou who didst seal by thy descending Dove 
 Thy servant’s choice, oh help us in our parts, 
 Else helpless found, to learn and teach thy 
 
 * [This is a pregnant question. The ministers of 
 Christ either represent him, or act in their own name. 
 If the latter, what authority have they more than 
 other men ? If the former, where is the evidence of 
 their authority to represent Christ? That he sent the 
 apostles in his own name is evident. That they in 
 like manner sent others is evident. That from the 
 apostles’ times the sacred chain has never yet been 
 broken is evident. Where shall the seal be looked for 
 then, but among them who, from age to age, have 
 st ill been sent by those whom Christ 6ent, as the Father 
 first sent him ? What warrant surer need there be 
 than theirs, which, issued at the first by Christ him- 
 self, has since been handed down, from band to hand, 
 as duly and as certainly as the inspired record of our 
 faith ?] 
 
 * 
 
! 254 
 
 THE ANNUNCIATION. 
 
 : THE ANNUNCIATION' OF THE BLESS- 1 
 ED VIRGIN MARY.* 
 
 [march 25.] 
 
 And the Angel camb in unto her, and said, Hail, ^ 
 ! thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee, 5 
 1 blessed art thou among women. — St. Lake i. 28. s 
 I iGospel for the Day.] 
 
 [We beseech thee, O Lord, pour thy grace into our £ 
 ! hearts; that as we have known i he incarnation of thy 5 
 > Son Jesus Christ by the message of an angel, so by < 
 ! his cross and passion we may be brought unto the J 
 ; glory of h^ resurrection, through the same Jesus s 
 ’ Christ our Lord. Amen. J 
 
 Oh, Tlioti who deign’st to sympathize 
 With all our frail and fleshly ties, 
 
 Maker, yet Brother dear, 
 
 Forgive the too presumptuous thought, 
 
 If, calming wayward grief, [ sought 
 To gaze on Thee too near. 
 
 Yet sure ’t was not presumption, Lord, 
 ’Twas thine own comfortable word 
 That made the lesson knovvn : 
 
 Of all the dearest bonds we prove, 
 
 Thou countest sons’ and mothers’ love 
 Most sacred, most thine own. 
 
 When wandering here a little span, 
 
 Thou took’st on Thee to rescue man, 
 
 , * [This festival, frequently denominated Lady Day, 
 
 ; commemorates the annunciation, or declaration made 
 > by the angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary, that she 
 I should become, by the overshadowing of the Holy 
 » Ghost, the mother of our Lord Jesus Christ.] 
 

 THE ANNUNCIATION. 255 \ 
 
 Thou hadst no earthly sire: 
 
 That wedded love we prize so dear, 
 
 As if our heaven and home were, here, 
 
 It lit in Thee no fire. 
 
 On no sweet sister’s faithful breast 
 Wouldst thou thine aching forehead rest, 
 
 On no kind brother lean : 
 
 But who, O perfect filial heart, 
 
 E’er did like Thee a true son’s part, 
 Endearing, firm, serene ? 
 
 Thou wept’st, meek maiden, mother mild, 
 Thou wept’st upon thy sinless child, 
 
 Thy very heart was riven : 
 
 And yet, what mourning matron here 
 Would deem thy sorrows bought too dear 
 By all on this side heaven ? 
 
 A son that never did amiss, 
 
 That never shamed his mother’s kiss, 
 
 Nor cross’d her fondest prayer: 
 
 Even from the tree he deign’d to bow 
 For her his agonized brow, 
 
 Her, his sole earthly care.* 
 
 Ave Maria! blessed Maidl 
 Lily of Eden’s fragrant shade, 
 
 * [There is no passage in the whole scripture of ) 
 deeper and more touching pathos than that which re- 5 
 cords the Saviour’s commendation of his mother to < 
 the beloved disciple. “ When Jesus, therefore, saw j 
 his mother and the disciple standing by whom he j 
 loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold ihy 
 Son. Then saith be to the disciple. Behold thy t 
 > mother ; and from that hour that disciple took her to £ 
 s his'own home.” — St. John xix. 26, 27.1 
 
$ 256 THE ANNUNCIATION. 
 
 Who can express the love 
 That nurtured thee so pure and sweet, 
 Making thy heart a shelter mdet 
 For Jesus’ holy Dove ? 
 
 Ave Maria ! Mother blest, 
 
 To whom caressing and caress’d 
 Clings the Eternal child; 
 
 Favour’d beyond Archangel’s dream, 
 When first on thee with tenderest gleam 
 Thy new-born Saviour smiled : — 
 Ave Maria! Thou whose name 
 All but adoring love may claim,* 
 
 Yet may we reach thy shrine ; 
 
 For He, thy Son and Saviour, vows 
 To crown all lowly lofty brows 
 With love and joy like thine. 
 
 
 . * [The Church in this, as in all other things, follows 
 
 I closely after the scriptures. The mother of our Lord j 
 she regards and honours as “ blessed among women j” ) 
 but she pays her no adoration, and raises her into no $ 
 competition with the “one mediator between God and < 
 man.” So Bishop Mant, — 
 
 “ Blest among women is thy lot : 
 
 £ But higher meed we yield thee not, 
 
 ( Nor more than woman’s name. 
 
 \ Nor solemn 4 Hail’ to thee we pay 
 
 } Nor prayer to thee for mercy pray, 
 
 S Nor hymn of glory raise; 
 
 i Nor thine we deem in God’s high throne, 
 
 ) Nor thine the birth right of thy Son 
 
 < The Mediator’s praise. 
 
 \ Mother of Jesus, Parent dear ! 
 
 < If aught of earthly thou couldst hear, 
 
 \ If aught of human see ; 
 
 j What pantjs thy humble heart must wring 
 l To know thy Saviour, Lord and King, 
 Dishonour’d thus for thee !”1 
 
ST. MARK’S DAY. 
 
 
 257 : 
 
 Bless’d is the wcmb that bare Him— bless’d* ? 
 The bosom where his lips were press’d, ) 
 But rather bless’d are they / 
 
 Who hear his word and keep it well, 
 
 The living homes where Christ shall dwell. 
 And never pass away. 
 
 ST. MARK'S DAT.t 
 
 [APRIL 25.] 
 
 And the contention was so sharp between them, that \ 
 \ they departed asunder the one from the other . — A cts > 
 l xv. 39. 
 
 1 Compare 2 Timothy iv. 11. Take Mark, and bring 
 ) him with thee, for he is profitable to me for the ministry. < 
 i [O Almighty God, who hast instructed thy Holy b 
 < Church with the heavenly doctrine of thy Evangelist < 
 1 Saint Mark; give us grace, that being not like children ) 
 $ carried away with every blast of vain doctrine, we may < 
 <! be established in the truth of the holy Gospel, through ? 
 $ Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Oh ! who shall dare in this frail scene 
 On holiest, happiest thoughts to lean. 
 
 On friendship, kindred, or on love ? 
 
 * St. Luke xi. 27, 28. 
 
 t l St. Mark is one of the two who are commemo- i 
 rated by the Church as Evangelists ; he having written j 
 
 > one of the four Gospels, though not called to be an J 
 ( apostle. He was the companion, however, of Paul, j 
 
 > and Barnabas, and Peter, with whom he preached the > 
 l Gospel. He was the sister’s son of Barnabas, his j 
 
 > mother being that Mary to whose house at Jerusalem ) 
 
 > the disciples much resorted, ( Acts xii. 12.) He is com- < 
 < monly known in Scripture as John Mark, and is de- ? 
 
 > dared by Eusebius to have been the first bishop of S 
 
 ( Alexandria.] < 
 
 17 * > 
 
; 258 
 
 ST. mark’s DAY. 
 
 Since not apostles’ hands can clasp 
 Each other in so firm a grasp, 
 
 But they shall change and variance prove. 
 
 Yet deem not, on such parting sad 
 Shall dawn no welcome dear and glad : 
 Divided in their earthly race, 
 
 Together at the glorious goal, 
 
 Each leading many a rescued soul* 
 
 The faithful champions shall embraoe. 
 
 For even as those mysterious Four, 
 
 Who the bright whirling wheels upbore 
 By Chebar in the fiery blast,* 
 
 So, on their tasks of love and praise, 
 
 The saints of God their several ways 
 Right onward speed, yet join at last.f 
 
 And sometimes even beneath the moon 
 The Saviour gives a gracious boon, 
 
 When reconciled Christians meet. 
 
 And face to face, and heart to heart, 
 
 High thoughts of holy love impart 
 
 In silence meek, or converse sweet. 
 
 Companion of the saints! ^t was thine 
 To taste that drop of peace divine, 
 
 When the great soldier of thy Lord 
 
 * Ezekiel i. 9. They turned not when they went — \ 
 
 > they went every one straight forward. 
 
 t [The whole passage in Ezekiel is mo3t glorious and £ 
 \ majestic. The paraphrase here used of the scriptural £ 
 
 > phrase “straight forward” is Miltonic : — 
 
 '* Yet, I argue not 
 
 Against Heaven’s hand or vyill, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope; but still bear up, and steer 
 Right onward." 
 
 Sovvet. to Cyriac Skinner .] 
 
ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES. 259 
 
 Call’d thee to take his last farewell,* j 
 
 Teaching the Church with joy to tell l 
 
 The story of your love restored. 
 
 O then the glory and the bliss, 
 
 When all that pain’d or seem’d amiss 
 Shall melt with earth and sin away ! 
 
 When saints beneath their Saviour’s eye, 
 
 Fill’d with each other’s company, 
 
 Shall spend in love the eternal day ! 
 
 ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES. + 
 
 [MAY 1.] 
 
 ^Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is s 
 ) exalted ; but the rich, in that he is made low. — St. s 
 ; James i. 9, 10. [ Epistle for the Day .] 
 
 [O Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting ^ 
 i life ; grant us perfectly to know thy Son Jesus Christ < 
 l to be the way, the truth and the life ; that following ? 
 ) the steps of thy holy Apostles, Saint Philip and Saint s 
 ' James, we may steadfastly walk in the way that leadeth / 
 ; to eternal life, through the same thy Son Jesus Christ ^ 
 
 > our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 Dear is the morning gale of spring, 
 
 And dear th’ autumnal eve; 
 
 But few delights can summer bring 
 A poet’s crown to weave. 
 
 , * [It is delightful to see that as the first of the two | 
 
 t texts quoted as a motto to these verses, exhibits the ( 
 \ apostles as men in their contention, the second re- ? 
 
 > presents them as Christian men in their reconciliation. 5 
 ) Of the same Mark, St. Paul elsewhere speaks as being £ 
 
 with him in his imprisonment at Rome, and being a ) 
 
 • ‘‘ comfort” to him. — Col. iv. 11.] s 
 
 ' \ [Philip, a fisherman of Bethsaida. the city of \ 
 
 ’ Andrew and Peter, was the first disciple whom our ( 
 
$260 ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES. 
 
 Her bowers are mute, her fountains dry, 
 
 And ever fancy’s wing 
 Speeds from beneath her cloudless sky, 
 
 To autumn or to spring. 
 
 Sweet is the infant’s waking smile, 
 
 And sweet the old man’s rest — 
 
 But middle age by no fond wile. 
 
 No soothing calm is blest. 
 
 Still in the world’s hot restless gleam 
 She plies her weary task, 
 
 While vainly for some pleasant dream 
 Her wandering glances ask. 
 
 O shame upon thee, listless heart, 
 
 So sad a sigh to heave, 
 
 As if thy Saviour had no part 
 
 In thoughts that make thee grieve ; 
 
 As if along his lonesome way 
 He had not borne for thee 
 Sad languors through the summer day, 
 
 Storms on the wintry sea. 
 
 Youth’s lightning flash of joy secure 
 Pass’d seldom o’er His sprite, — 
 
 A well of serious thought and pure, 
 
 Too deep for earthly light. 
 
 $ Saviour called, and was numbered with the twelve \ 
 5 Apostles. James, also one of the twelve, is called in ; 
 ( Scripture the son of Alpheus, or Cleophas, and also s 
 \ the brother of our Lord — that is, his near kinsman, l 
 
 I their mothers being sisters. He is called James the $ 
 less (either in reference to his stature, or his age, or $ 
 perhaps his inferior prominence in the Gospel), to dis- 
 tinguish him from James the greater, the son of Zebe- 
 dee. He was also surnamed the Just. He wrote the t 
 general Epistle which bears his name, and was the first £ 
 Bishop of Jerusalem.] 
 

 ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES. 261 £ 
 
 No spring was His— no fairy gleam— 
 For He by trial knew 
 How cold and bare what mortals dream, 
 To worlds where all is true.* 
 
 Then grudge not thou the anguish keen 
 Which makes thee like thy Lord, 
 And learn to quit with eye serene 
 Thy youth’s ideal hoard. 
 
 Thy treasured hopes and raptures high— 
 Unmurmuring let them go, 
 
 Nor grieve the bliss should quickly fly 
 Which Christ disdain’d to know. 
 
 Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon ; 
 
 The pure, calm hope be thine, 
 Which brightens like the eastern moon, 
 As day’s wild lights decline. 
 
 Thus, souls, by nature pitch’d too high, 
 By sufferings plunged too low, 
 
 Meet in the Church’s middle sky, 
 
 Half way ’twixt joy and wo, 
 
 To practise there the soothing lay 
 That sorrow best relieves : 
 Thankful for all God takes away, 
 Humbled by all He gives. 
 
 * [To, compared with ] 
 
>262 
 
 ST. BARNABAS. 
 
 ST. BARNABAS* 
 
 [JUNE 11.] 
 
 The Son of consolation, a Levite . — Acts iv. 36. 
 
 [O Lord God Almighty, who didst endue thy holy ! 
 
 < Apostle Barnabas with singular gifts of the Holy I 
 2 Ghost; leave us not, we beseech thee, destitute of thy < 
 
 manifold gifts, nor yet of grace to use them alway to < 
 
 < thy honour and glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. { 
 | Amen.] 
 
 The world’s a room of sickness, where each \ 
 heart 
 
 Knows its own anguish and unrest ; 
 
 The truest wisdom there, and noblest art, 
 
 Is his, who skills of comfort best : 
 
 Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone 
 Enfeebled spirits own, 
 
 And love to raise the languid eye, 
 
 When, like an angel’s wing, they feel him fleeting 
 by:— 
 
 Feel only — for in silence gently gliding 
 Fain would he shun both ear and sight, . 
 
 ’Twixt prayer and watchful love his heart j 
 dividing, 
 
 A nursing father day and night.f 
 
 * [Joses, afterwards called Barnabas, was a Jew of [ 
 Cyprus. From the sale of his estates, and contribution < 
 of the value, for the relief of the poor, at the time of ? 
 his conversion to the Christian faith, he received the 5 
 latter name, which signifies “ son of consolation.” He < 
 is called in Scripture an Apostle, though not one of the 5 
 twelve, and was much associated wit’h St. Paul in the ] 
 work of edifying the Church.] 
 t [Can there be imagined a delineation more delight- s 
 than this of the pastoral visitation of the sick Tj > 
 
 ful 
 
ST. BARNAE AS. 
 
 263 \ 
 
 Such were the tender arms, where cradled lay, 
 In her sweet natal day. 
 
 The Church of Jesus ; such the love 
 He to his chosen taught for His dear widow’d \ 
 Dove. 
 
 Warm’d underneath the Comforter’s safe wing £ 
 They spread th’ endearing warmth around : 
 Mourners, speed here your broken hearts to \ 
 bripg, 
 
 Here healing dews and balms abound : 
 
 Here are soft hands that cannot bless in vain, 
 By trial taught your pain: 
 
 Here loving hearts, that daily know 
 ] The heavenly consolations they on you bestow. 
 
 Sweet thoughts are theirs, that breathe serenest l 
 calms. 
 
 Of holy offerings timely paid,* 
 
 Of fire from heaven to bless their votive alms 
 And passions on God’s altar laid. 
 
 The world to them is closed, and now they shine ^ 
 With rays of love divine, 
 
 Through darkest nooks of this dull earth 
 > Pouring, in showery times, their glow of “ quiet l 
 mirth.” 
 
 New hearts before their Saviour’s feet to lay, 
 This is their first, their dearest joy ; 
 
 Their next, from heart to heart to clear the { 
 way,t 
 
 For mutual love without alloy : 
 
 * Acts iv. 37. Having land, he sold it, and brought \ 
 ? the money, and laid it at the Apostles’ feet. < 
 
 ) f Acts ix. 27. Barnabas took him, and brought him < 
 $ (Saul) to the Apostles. [It is said that Barnabas and > 
 £ Saul were fellow-disciples of Gamaliel, and hence £ 
 ? their acquaintance.] 
 
Never so blest, as when in Jesus’ roll 
 They write some hero-soul. 
 
 More pleased upon his brightening road 
 [ To wait, than if their own with all his radiance \ 
 glow’d. 
 
 O happy spirits, mark’d by God and man 
 Their messages of love to bear,* 
 
 What though long since in heaven your brows \ 
 began 
 
 The genial amaranth wreath to wear, 
 
 And in th’ eternal leisure of calm love 
 Ye banquet there above, 
 
 Yet in your sympathetic heart 
 j We and our earthly griefs may ask and hope a \ 
 part. 
 
 Comfort’s true sons ! amid the thoughts of down | 
 That strew your pillow of repose, 
 
 Sure, ’t is one joy to muse, how ye unknown 
 By sweet remembrance soothe our woes, 
 
 And how the spark ye lit, of heavenly cheer, 
 Lives in our embers here, 
 
 Where’er the Cross is borne with smiles, 
 
 ; Or lighten’d secretly by love’s endearing wiles : 
 
 Where’er one Levite in the temple keeps 
 The watch-fire of his midnight prayer, 
 
 Or issuing thence, the eyes of mourners steeps $ 
 In heavenly balm, fresh gather’d there ; ; 
 
 Thus saints, that seem to die in earth’s rude \ 
 strife, 
 
 Only win double life ; 
 
 They have but left our weary ways 
 \ To live in memory here, in heaven by love and \ 
 J praise. 
 
 * Acts xi. 22 ; xiii. 2. 
 
ST. JOHN BAPTIST’S DAY. 
 
 f 
 
 265 < 
 
 *' 
 
 
 ST. JOHN BAPTIST’S DAT.* 
 
 [JUNE 24 .] 
 
 Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet, before the 
 great and terrible day of the Lord ; and he shall turn 
 
 
I 266 
 
 ST. JOHN BAPTIST S DAY. 
 
 Methinks we need him once again, 
 
 [ That favour’d seer— but where shall he be found? 
 
 By Cherith’s side we seek in vain, 
 
 $ In vain on Carmel’s green and lonely mound : 
 Angels no more 
 From Sinai soar, 
 
 On his celestial errands bound. 
 
 But wafted to her glorious place 
 | By harmless fire, among the ethereal thrones, 
 
 ' His spirit with a dear embrace 
 \ Thee the loved harbinger of Jesus owns, 
 
 Well pleased to view 
 Her likeness true, 
 
 And trace, in thine, her own deep tones. 
 Deathless himself, he joys with thee 
 
 I To commune how a faithful martyr dies, 
 
 And in the blest could envy be, 
 
 He would behold thy wounds with envious eyes. 
 Star of our morn, 
 
 Who yet unborn* 
 
 \ Didst guide our hope, where Christ should rise. 
 
 \ Now resting from your jealous care 
 \ For sinners, such as Eden cannot know, 
 
 Ye pour for us your mingled prayer, 
 
 \ No anxious fear to damp affection’s glow, 
 
 Love draws a cloud 
 From you to shroud 
 > Rebellion’s mystery here below, 
 j And since we see, and not afar, 
 
 \ The twilight of the great and dreadful day, 
 f Why linger, till Elijah’s car 
 ( Stoop from the clouds ? Why sleep ye ? rise and 
 P^y, . 
 
 * St. Luke i. 44. The Babe leaped in her womb for 
 ) joy. 
 
ST. JOHN BAPTIST’S DAY. 
 
 267 < 
 
 Ye heralds seal’d 
 In camp or field 
 
 Your Saviour’s banner to display. 
 
 Where is the lore the Baptist taught, 
 i The soul unswerving and the fearless tongue 7* * * § 
 The much-enduring wisdom, sought 
 > By lonely prayer the haunted rocks among 7 
 Who counts it gainj 
 Ilis light should wane, 
 
 So the whole world to Jesus throng 7 
 Thou Spirit who the Church didst lend 
 $ Her eagle wings, to shelter in the wild,J 
 We pray thee, ere the Judge descend, 
 
 \ With flames like these, all bright and undefiled, 
 Her watch-fires light, 
 
 To guide aright 
 
 Our weary souls, by earth beguiled. 
 
 So glorious let thy pastors shine, 
 
 $ That by their speaking lives the world may learn 
 First filial duty, then divine, § 
 
 ] That sons to parents, all to Thee may turn ; 
 
 And ready prove 
 In fires of love, 
 
 At sight of Thee, for aye to burn. 
 
 * [After his example, says the Church, in the collect 
 for this day, “ constantly speak the truth, boldly re- 
 buke vice, and patiently suffer for the truth’s sake.”] 
 
 t St. John iii. 30. He must increase, but I must de- 
 ; crease. 
 
 t Revelation xii. 14. 
 
 § Malachi iv. 6. He shall turn the heart of the 
 fathers to the children, and the heart of the children 
 to the fathers. 
 
 St. Luke i. 17. To turn the hearts of the fathers to 
 the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the 
 (just ; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord. 
 
1 268 st. Peter’s day. 
 
 
 ST. PETER’S DAT.* 
 
 [JUNE 29.J 
 
 , When Herod would have brought him out, the same 
 
 > night Peter was sleeping. — Acts xii. 6. [Scripture 
 
 < for the Epistle .] 
 
 ? [O Almighty God, who, by thy Son Jesus Christ, 
 
 > didst give to thy Apostle Saint Peter many excellent 
 \ gifts, and commandedst him earnestly to feed thy flock ; 
 
 > make. We beseech thee, all Bishops and Pastors dili- 
 
 > gently to preach thy holy Word, and the people obe- 
 
 > diently to follow the same, that they may receive the 
 
 > crown of everlasting glory, through Jesus Christ our 
 l Lord. Amen.} 
 
 Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved,! 
 
 Watch by thine own forgiven friend ; 
 
 In sharpest perils faithful proved, 
 
 Let his soul love thee to the end. 
 
 The prayer is heard— else why so deep 
 His slumber on the eve of death 
 
 *' [Peter, a native and fisherman of Bethsaida, was 
 the brother of Andrew, and resided in Capernaum. 
 
 > He was among the first followers of Jesus, and one 
 ( of the twelve Apostles. To his name Simon, Jesus 
 
 added that of Peter (or Cephas), the one Greek, and 
 the other the Hebrew name for rock. He, with James ! 
 f the greater and John, was the most favoured of the 
 
 < Apostles. He was illustrious for his zeal and activity, 
 
 ! as also for his denial of his Lord, and subsequent re- 
 £ pentance. He was more especially the Apostle of the 
 ( Jews, as Paul was of the Gentiles. His labours in 
 
 E lanting the Gospel were great and successful. He 
 as left two general Epistles.] 
 t St. Johnsxxi. 15 — 17. 
 
 t [His being found sleeping, beautifully illustrates 
 his Chrii 
 
 ( his Christian calmness and composure.] 
 
st. peter’s day. 269 ] 
 
 And wherefore smiles he in his sleep 
 As one who drew celestial breath? 
 
 He loves and is beloved again — 
 
 Can his soul choose but be at rest? 
 
 Sorrow hath fled away, and pain 
 Dares not invade the guarded nest, 
 
 He dearly loves, and not alone : 
 
 For his wing’d thoughts are soaring high 
 
 Where never yet frail heart was known 
 To breathe in vain affection’s sigh. 
 
 He loves and weeps— but more than tears 
 Have seal’d thy welcome and his love — 
 
 One look lives in him, and endears 
 Crosses and wrongs where’er he rove : 
 
 That gracious chiding look,* Thy call 
 To win him to himself and Thee, 
 
 Sweetening the sorrow of his fall, 
 
 Which else were rued tdo bitterly. 
 
 Even through the veil of sleep it shines, 
 
 The memory of that kindly glance ; — 
 
 The Angel watching by divines, 
 
 And spares awhile his blissful trance. 
 
 Or haply to his native laket 
 His vision wafts him back, to talk 
 
 With Jesus, ere his flight he takes, 
 
 As in that solemn evening walk, 
 
 When to the bosom of his friend, 
 
 The Shepherd, He whose name is Good, 
 
 * St. Luke xxii. 61. 
 t [See the passage here so happily alluded to. John \ 
 i xxi. 15 — 17.] 
 
£ 270 
 
 ST. PETER S DAY. 
 
 Did His dear lambs and sheep commend, 
 Both bought and nourish’d with His blood : 
 
 Then laid on him th’ inverted tree,* * * § 
 
 Which, firm embraced with heart and arm, 
 
 Might cast o’er hone and memory, 
 
 O’er life and death, its awful charm. 
 
 With brightening heart he bears it on, 
 
 His passport through the eternal gates, 
 
 To his sweet home — so nearly won, 
 
 He seems, as by the door he waits, 
 
 The unexpressive notes to heart 
 Of angel song and angel motion, 
 
 Rising and falling on the ear 
 Like waves in Joy’s unbounded ocean. 
 
 His dream is changed— the tyrant’s voice 
 Calls to that last of glorious deeds — 
 
 But as he rises to rejoice, 
 
 Not Herod, but an angel leads.}; 
 
 He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright, § 
 Glancing around his prison room, — 
 
 But ’t is a gleam of heavenly light 
 That fills up all the ample gloom. 
 
 The flame, that in a few short years 
 Deep through the chambers of the dead 
 
 * [He is said to have been crucified with his head s 
 ? downwards.] 
 
 t [So Milton of his dead Lycidas, 
 
 “ And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.”] 
 t [And behold the Angel of the Lord came upon \ 
 £ him.] | 
 
 § [And a light shined in the prison.] 
 
\ ST. JAMES’ DAY. 271 j 
 
 Shall pierce, and dry the fpunt of tears, 
 Is waving o’er his dungeon-bed. 
 
 Touch’d he upstarts— his chains unbind—* 
 Through darksome vault, up massy stair, 
 His dizzy, doubting footsteps wind 
 To freedom and cool moonlight air. 
 
 Then all himself, all joy and calm, 
 
 Though for awhile his hand forego, 
 
 Just as it touch’d the martyr’s palm, 
 
 He turns him to his task below ; 
 
 The pastoral staff, the keys of heaven, 
 
 To wield awhile in gray-hair’d might, 
 Then from hjs cross to spring forgiven, 
 
 And follow Jesus out of sight. 
 
 ST. JAMES' DAT.t 
 < [JULY 25.] | 
 
 1 ' Ye shall indeed drink of my cup, and be baptized ? 
 
 with the baptism that I am baptized with : but to sit on ) 
 my right hand and on my left is not mine to give, but L 
 it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared of my $ 
 Father.— St. Matthew. xx. 23. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 > [Grant, O merciful God, that as thine holy Apostle < 
 < Saint James, leaving his father and all that he had, > 
 ? wi:hout delay was obedient unto the calling of thy Son ] 
 S Jesus Christ, and followed him ; so we, forsaking all t 
 ( worldly and carnal affections, maybe evermore ready ; 
 > to follow thy holy commandments, through Jesus < 
 s Christ our Lord. Amen.] ? 
 
 > Sit down and take thy fill of joy < 
 
 > At God’s right hand, a bidden guest, < 
 
 \ * [See the whole passage here so finely paraphrased, l 
 
 ? Acts xii. 6— 19.] < 
 
 ^ t [James the greater, the son of Zebedee, was 
 
\ 272 
 
 ST. JAMES’ DAY. 
 
 Drink of the cup that cannot cloy, 
 
 Eat of the bread that cannot waste. 
 
 0 great Apostle ! rightly now 
 
 Thou readest all thy Saviour meant. 
 What time His grave yet gentle brow 
 In sweet reproof on thee was bent. 
 
 “ Seek ye to sit enthroned by me? 
 
 Alas ! ye know not what ye ask. 
 
 The first in shame and agony, 
 
 The lowest in the meanest task — 
 
 This can ye be ? and can ye drink 
 The cup that I in tears must steep, 
 
 Nor from the whelming waters shrink, 
 That o’er me roll so dark and deep ?” 
 
 “We can — thine are we, dearest Lord, 
 
 In glory and in agony, 
 
 To do and suffer all Thy word ; 
 
 Only be Thou for ever nigh.” — 
 
 “ Then be it so — my cup receive. 
 
 And of my woes baptismal taste: 
 
 But for the crown that angels weave 
 For those next me in glory placed, 
 
 1 give it not by partial love ; 
 
 But in my Father’s book are writ 
 What names on earth shall lowliest prove, 
 That they in heaven may highest sit.” 
 
 \ fisherman of Galilee. Called by Christ, both he and $ 
 £ his brother John straightway followed him. They < 
 i were named by our Lord, Boanerges, orsons of thun- ? 
 S der, expressive of their zeal and devotion to his cause ; S 
 
 < and with Peter enjoyed his chief confidence. He was < 
 > thefirsi of the twelve Apostles who suffered martyrdom, £ 
 
 < being slain, by command of Herod, with a sword.] 
 
+ • 
 
 st. James’ day. 
 
 273 ; 
 
 Take up the lesson, O my heart ; 
 
 Thou Lord of meekness, write it there ; 
 Thine own meek self to me impart, 
 
 Thy lofty hope, thy lowly prayer. 
 
 If ever on the mount with Thee 
 I seem to soar in vision bright, 
 
 ' v ith thoughts of coming agony* 
 
 Stay thou the too presumptuous flight : 
 Gently along the vale of tears 
 Lead me from Tabor’s sun bright steep. 
 
 Let me not grudge a few short years 
 With Tire toward heaven to walk and weep : 
 
 Too happy, on my silent path, 
 
 If now and then allow’d — with Thee 
 Watching some placid holy death — 
 
 Thy secret work of love to see ; 
 
 But, oh! most happy, should thy call, 
 
 Thy welcome call, at last be given— 
 
 “ Come where thou long hast stored thy all. 
 Come see thy place prepared in heaven.” 
 
 St. Matthew xvii. 12. “ Likewise shall also the ] 
 
 > Son of man suffer of them.” This was just after the / 
 
 > transfiguration. 
 
i 274 
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 
 
 
 ST. BA'RTH O-L OMEW.* 
 
 [august 24 .] 
 
 Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said \ 
 ! unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou 1 ) 
 ! thou shall see greater things than these. — St. John > 
 l 50 . * 
 
 [O Almighty and everlasting God, who didst give to ^ 
 thine Apostle Bartholomew grace truly to believe and > 
 to preach thy word ; grant, we beseech thee, unto thy l 
 
 > Church, to love that word which he believed, and ? 
 | both to preach and receive the same, through Jesus > 
 
 > Christ our Lord. Jlrnen.] 
 
 Hold up thy mirror to the sun, 
 
 And thou shalt need an eagle’s gaze, 
 
 So perfectly the polish’d stone 
 Gives back the glory of his rays : 
 
 Turn it, and it shall paint as true 
 The soft green of the vernal earth, 
 
 And each small flower of bashful hue, 
 
 That closest hides its lowly birth. 
 
 Our mirror is a blessed book, 
 
 Where out from each illumined page 
 
 We see one glorious Image look, 
 
 All eyes to dazzle and engage, 
 
 * [Bartholomew, one of the twelve Apostles, is ge- £ 
 ! nerally believed to have been that Nathaniel of whom S 
 i Jesus said, “ Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is \ 
 ' no guile.”] 
 
ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 
 
 275 
 
 The Son of God : and that indeed 
 • We see Him as He is, we know. 
 
 Since in the same bright glass we read 
 The very life of things below. — 
 
 Eye of God’s word !'* where’er we turn, 
 
 Ever upon us ! thy keen gaze 
 Can all the depths of sin discern, 
 
 Unravel every bosom’s maze : 
 
 Who that has felt thy glance of dread 
 Thrill through his heart’s remotest cells, 
 About his path, about his bed, 
 
 Can doubt what spirit in thee dwells? 
 
 “ What word is this ? Whence know’st thou 
 me ?” 
 
 All wondering cries the humbled heart, 
 
 To hear thee that deep mystery, 
 
 The knowledge of itself, impart. 
 
 The veil is raised ; who runs may read, < 
 By its own light the truth is seen, 
 
 And soon the Israelite indeed 
 Bows down t’ adore the Nazarene. 
 
 So did Nathaniel, guileless man, 
 
 At once, not shame-faced or afraid. 
 
 Owning him God, who so could scan 
 His musings in the lonely shade; 
 
 * “ The position before us is, that we ourselves, and £ 
 $ such as we, are the very persons whom Scripture i 
 
 < speaks of : and to whom, as men, in every variety of \ 
 
 > persuasive form, it makes its condescending though > 
 ( celestial appeal. The .point worthy of observation is, ( 
 ) to note how a book of the description and the com- ? 
 s pass which we have represented Scripture to be, pos- s 
 ( sesses this versatility of power ; this eye, like that of a f 
 
 > portrait, uniformly fixed upon us, turn where we £ 
 
 < will .” — Miller's Bampton Lectures, p. 128. 
 

 \ 276 
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 
 
 In his own pleasant fig tree’s shade,* 
 Which by his household fountain grew. 
 Where at noon-day his prayer he made, 
 To know God better than he knew. 
 
 Oh ! happy hours of heaven-ward thought ! 
 
 How richly crown’d! how well improved ! 
 In musing o’er the law he taught. 
 
 In waiting for the Lord he loved. 
 
 We must not mar with earthly praise 
 What God’s approving word hath seal'd ^ 
 Enough, if right our feeble lays 
 Take up the promise He reveal’d ; 
 
 “The child like faith, that asks not sight, 
 Waits not for wonder or for sign, 
 Believes, because it loves, aright — 
 
 Shall see things greater, things divine. 
 Heaven to that gaze shall open wide,f 
 And brightest angels to and fro 
 On messages of love shall glide 
 ’Twixt God above, and Christ below.” 
 
 So still the guileless man is blest, 
 
 To him all crooked paths are straight, 
 Him on his way to endless rest 
 Fresh, ever growing strengths await. J 
 
 God’s witnesses, a glorious host, 
 
 Compass him daily like a cloud ; 
 
 * [“ Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast > 
 j under the fig-tree, 1 saw thee.”]' 
 
 t [“ Hereafter ye shall see heaven opened, and the $ 
 $ angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son < 
 of man.*'] 
 
 I t Psalm lxxxiv. 7. They shall go from strength to ^ 
 ; strength. 
 
ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 Martyrs and seers, the saved and lost, 
 Mercies and judgments cry aloud. 
 
 Yet shall to him the still small voice, 
 That first into his bosom found 
 A way, and fix’d his wavering choice, 
 Nearest and dearest ever sound. 
 
 277 ; 
 
 ST. MATTHEW.* 
 
 [SEPTEMBER 21.] 
 
 And after these things, He went forth and saw a ; 
 
 > publican named Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom, < 
 
 < and He said unto Jiim, Follow me : and he left all, \ 
 
 \ rose up, and followed Him. — St. Luke v. 27, 28. ^ 
 
 / [O Almighty God, who by thy blessed Son didst call \ 
 
 < Matthew from the receipt of custom, to be an Apostle ? 
 
 ? and Evangelist; grant us grace to forsake all covetous £ 
 wlesires, and inordinate love of riches; and to follow r 
 ( the same thy Son Jesus Christ, who liveth and reignefh ( ( 
 \ with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world with- t 
 J out end. Jlmen.} > 
 
 Ye hermits blest, ye holy maids* ] 
 
 The nearest heaven on earth, $ 
 
 Who talk with God in shadowy gladeE, \ 
 Free from rude rare and mirth ; 
 
 To whom some viewless teacher brings < 
 The secret lore of rural things, 
 
 * [Matthew, called also Levi, was a publican, or / 
 ? collector of tax^s, under the Roman government. He jj 
 
 > was sitting “at the receipt of custom,” when, called ( 
 
 < by Jesus to be his disciple, he arose and followed him. ) 
 
 > He was appointed one of the twelve Apostles of our £ 
 
 > Lord, and wrote one of the four Gospels.] £ 
 
278 ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 i The moral of each fleeting cloud and gale, 
 
 \ The whispers from above, that haunt the twilight ^ 
 ) vale; 
 
 | Say, when in pity ye have gazed 
 On the wreathed smoke afar, 
 t That o’er some town, like mist upraised, 
 
 ) Hung, hiding sun and star, 
 
 I Then as ye turn’d your weary eye 
 l To the green earth and open sky, 
 
 J Were ye not fain to doubt how faith could j 
 \ /dwell 
 
 Amid that dreary glare, in this world’s citadel ? 
 But love’s a flower that will not die 
 For lack of leafy screen, 
 
 And Christian hope can cheer the eye* 
 
 That ne’er saw vernal green ; 
 
 Then be ye sure that love can bless 
 Even in this crowded loneliness, 
 
 Where ever-moving myriads seem to say, 
 
 Go— thou art naught to us, nor we to thee— away! j 
 There are in this loud stunning tide 
 Of human care and crime, 
 
 With whom the melodies abide 
 Of th’ everlasting chime ; 
 
 < Who carry music in their heart 
 
 Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, 
 Plying their daily task with busier feet, 
 
 Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat. 
 
 * [It may doubtless be believed that the simplicity ) 
 
 * and retirement of the country is better fitted to nourish \ 
 
 > and increase spiritual religion than the hurry and bus- [ 
 tie, the engrossing occupation and artificial assoCia- \ 
 
 l tions, of the city. Yet in ail places Christianity has < 
 
 > found its true disciples ; and its pure doctrines and ) 
 s peaceful precepts are adapted for man’s reformation ] 
 
 <; ansi consolation in all places and in all 'conditions. J 
 
ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 279 $ 
 
 How sweet to them, in such brief rest 
 As thronging cares afford, 
 
 In thought to wander, fancy-blest, 
 
 To where their gracious Lord, 
 
 In vain, to win proud Pharisees, 
 
 Spake, and was heard by fell disease—* 
 
 But not in vain, beside yon breezy lake,f 
 \ Bade the meek publican his gainful seat forsake : \ 
 
 At once he rose, and left his gold ; 
 
 His treasure and his heart 
 Transferr’d, where he shall safe behold 
 Earth and her idols part ; 
 
 While he beside his endless store 
 Shall sit, and floods unceasing pour 
 Of Christ’s true riches o’er all time and space, j 
 ( First angel of his Church, first steward of his \ 
 grace 
 
 Nor can ye. not delight to think§ 
 
 Where he vouchsafed to eat, 
 
 How the Most Holy did not shrink 
 From touch of sinner’s meat; 
 
 What worldly hearts and hearts impure 
 Went with him through the rich man’s door, $ 
 
 > * It seems from St. Matthew ix. 8, 9, that the call- ? 
 
 < ing of Levi took place immediately after the healing £ 
 \ of the paralytic in the presence of the Pharisees. 
 
 t tThe lake of Gennesaret, by the side of which the 5 
 S custom-house stood, in which Matthew exercised his \ 
 ) vocation.] 
 
 t L3n,?eJ.-’-Messenger t Apostle.] 
 
 § [St. Matthew ix. 10. “And Levi (Matthew) made < 
 \ him a great feast in his own house.” — Luke v. 29. ( 
 s Matihew, though he mentions the feast, omits, with i 
 ^ becoming modesty, to say who gave it.] 
 
I 280 
 
 ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 That we might learn of Him lost souls to love, 
 ; And view his least and worst with hope to meet 
 above. 
 
 These gracious lines shed Gospel light 
 On Mammon’s gloomiest cells, 
 
 As on some city’s cheerless night 
 The tide of sun-rise swells, 
 
 Till tower, and dome, and bridge-way proud ] 
 Are mantled with a golden cloud, £ 
 
 And to wise hearts this certain hope is given ; l 
 “ No mist that man may raise, shall hide the eye !> 
 of Heaven.” > 
 
 And oh! if even on Babel shine 
 Such gleams of Paradise, 
 
 Should not their peace be peace divine, 
 Who day by day arise 
 To look on clearer heavens, and scan 
 The work of God untouch’d by man ? 
 Shame on us, who about us Babel bear, 
 
 J And live in Paradise, as if God was not there ! 
 
ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 281 : 
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.* 
 
 [SEPTEMBER 29.] 
 
 Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to \ 
 5 minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation 7— \ 
 ) Hebrews i. 14. 
 
 [0 everlasting God, who hast ordained and consti- \ 
 l tuted the services of angel3 and men in a wonderful \ 
 order; mercifully grant, that as thy holy Angels al- j 
 ) ways do thee service in heaven ; so, by thy appoint- 
 l ment they may succour and defend us on earth, 
 
 > through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 Ye stars that round the Sun of righteousness 
 In g’orious order roll, 
 
 With harps for ever strung, ready to bless 
 l God for each rescued soul, 
 
 s Ye eagle spirits, that build in light divine, 
 
 > Oh think of us to-day, 
 l Faint warblers of this earth, that would combine \ 
 
 Our trembling notes with your accepted lay. 
 
 J Your amaranth wreaths were earn’d ; and home- 
 ward all, 
 
 Flush’d with victorious might, 
 j Ye might have sped to keep high festival, 
 
 And revel in the light; 
 l But meeting us, weak worldlings, on our way, 
 
 \ Tired ere the fight begun, 
 
 \ Ye turn’d to help us in the unequal fray, 
 
 | Remembering whose we were, how dearly won : 
 
 * [The Church, on this festival, commemorates the ] 
 S services of that order of celestial beings, who are ap- 
 \ pointed to minister to such a3 shall be heirs of salva- 5 
 > tion. Michael is named in the Scripture as the arch- £ 
 l angel.l 
 
— 
 
 $ 282 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 ; Remembering Bethlehem, and that glorious night \ 
 ^ When ye, who used to soar 
 
 ] Diverse along all space in fiery flight, 
 
 ( Came thronging to adore 
 
 ( Your God new-born, and made a sinner’s child ; 
 
 As if the stars should leave 
 } Their stations in the far ethereal wild, 
 
 | And round the sun a radiant circle weave. 
 
 I ' Nor less your lay of triumph greeted fair 
 , Our Champion and your King, 
 
 In that first strife, whence Satan in despair 
 Sunk down on scathed wing: 
 
 Alone He fasted, and alone He fought ; 
 
 But when his toils were o’er 
 
 I Ye to the sacred Hermit duteous brought 
 Banquet and hymn, your Eden’s festal store. 
 
 Ye too, when lowest in th’ abyss of wo 
 He plunged to save his sheep, 
 
 Were leaning from your golden thrones to know < 
 The secrets of that deep : 
 
 But clouds were on his sorrow: one alone 
 l His agonizing call 
 
 5 Summon’d from heaven, to still that bitterest \ 
 s groan, <j 
 
 < And comfort Him, the Comforter of all. 
 
 j Oh! highest favour’d of all spirits create, 
 
 ? (If right of thee we deem,) 
 
 !> How didst thou glide on brightening wing elate 
 'i . To meet th’ unclouded beam 
 ^ Of Jesus from the couch of darkness rising ! 
 
 $ How swell’d thine anthem’s sound, 
 
 With fear and mightier joy weak hearts sur- 
 5 prising, 
 
 £ “ Your God is risen, and may not here be found.” < 
 
ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 — f* 
 
 283 
 
 \ Pass a few days, and this dull darkling globe 
 i Must yield him from her sight ; — 
 
 > Brighter and brighter streams his glory-robe, 
 
 And He is lost in light. 
 
 \ Then, when through yonder everlasting arch, 
 
 Ye in innumerous choir 
 
 < Pour’d, heralding Messiah’s conquering march, 
 
 < Linger’d around his skirts two forms of fire : 
 
 With us they stay’d, high warning to impart; 
 
 ] “ The Christ shall come again 
 
 ( Even as He goes; with the same human heart, 
 With the same godlike train.” — 
 
 | Oh 1 jealous God ! how could a sinner dare 
 Think on that dreadful day, 
 
 ! But that with all thy wounds Thou wilt be there, 
 And all our angel friends to bring Thee on thy 
 way ? 
 
 ( Since to thy little ones is given such grace, 
 
 That they who nearest stand 
 ( Alway to God in heaven, and see His face, 
 
 I Go forth at His command, 
 
 To wait around our path in weal or wo, 
 
 As erst upon our King, 
 
 Set thy baptismal seal upon our brow, 
 
 And waft us heaven-ward with enfolding wing : 
 
 ( Grant, Lord, that when around th’ expiring j> 
 world 
 
 Our seraph guardians wait, 
 
 While on her death-bed, ere to ruin hurl’d, 
 
 She owns Thee, all too late, 
 
 They to their charge may turn, and thankful see \ 
 Thy mark upon us still ; 
 
 Then altogether rise, and reign with Thee, 
 
 And all their holy joy o’er contrite hearts fulfil ! 
 
< 284 
 
 ST. LUKE. 
 
 ST. LUKE.* 
 
 [OCTOBER 18.] 
 
 , Luke the beloved physician, and Demas, greet you. > 
 
 > Colossians iv. 14. \ 
 
 \ Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present > 
 ? world. Only Luke is with me. — 2 Tim. iv. 10, ii. £ 
 
 > [Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 ( [Almighty God, who calledst Luke the Physician, 
 whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist and 
 ) Physician of the soul; may it please thee, that by the 
 ( wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, 
 
 > all the diseases of our souls may be healed, through 
 ] the merits of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, jimen.] 
 
 Two clouds before the summer gale 
 In equal race fleet o’er the sky ; 
 
 Two flowers, when wintry blasts assail,: 
 Together pine, together die. 
 
 But two capricious human hearts— 
 
 No sage’s rod may track their ways, 
 
 No eye pursue their lawless starts 
 Along their wild self-chosen maze. 
 
 He only, by whose sovereign hand 
 Even sinners for the evil dayf 
 
 Were made— who rules the world he plann’d, 
 Turning our worst his own good way ; 
 
 * [St. Luke is said to have been born at Antioch. 
 
 > He was a physician ; and after his conversion, accom- 
 panied St. Paul. He wrote a Gospel, and the Acts of l 
 [ the Apostles.] 5 
 
 t Proverbs xvi. 4. The Lord hath made all things 
 ! for himself, yea, even the wicked for the day of evil. 
 
ST. LUKE. 
 
 He only can the cause reveal, 
 
 Why, at the same fond bosom fed, 
 
 Taught in the self-same lap to kneel 
 Till the same prayer were duly said. 
 
 Brothers in blood and nurture too, 
 Aliens in heart so oft should prove ; 
 
 One lose, the other keep, Heaven’s clue ; 
 One dwell in wrath, and one in love. 
 
 He only knows,— ior He can read 
 The mystery of the wicked heart, — 
 
 Why vainly oft our arrows speed 
 When aim’d with most unerring art: 
 
 While from some rude and powerless arm 
 A random shaft in season sent 
 
 Shall light upon some lurking harm, 
 
 And work some wonder little meant. 
 
 Doubt we, how souls so wanton change, 
 Leaving their own experienced rest ? 
 
 Needs not around the world to range ; 
 One narrow cell may teach us best. 
 
 Look in, and see Christ’s chosen saint 
 In triumph wear his Christ-like chain ; 
 
 No fear lest he should swerve or faint ; 
 
 “ His life is Christ, his death is gain.” * 
 
 Two converts, watching by his side. 
 
 Alike his love and greetings share ; 
 
 Luke the beloved, the sick soul’s guide, 
 And Demas, named in faltering prayer. 
 
 Pass a few years — look in once more— 
 The saint is in his bonds again ; 
 
 * Philip, i. 21. 
 
 4 *' 
 
•f- 
 
 1 286 
 
 Save that his hopes more boldly soar,* 
 
 He and his lot unchanged remain. 
 
 But only Luke is with him now 
 Alas! that even the martyr s cell. 
 
 Heaven’s very gate, should scope allow 
 For the false world’s seducing spell. 
 
 ’Tis sad— but vet ’t is well, be sure, 
 
 We on the sight should muse awhile, 
 
 Nor deem our shelter all secure 
 Even in the Church’s holiest aisle. 
 
 Vainly before the shrine he bends, 
 
 Who knows not the true pilgrim’s part : 
 
 The martyr’s cell no safety lends 
 To him, who wants the martyr’s heart. 
 
 But if there be, who follows Paul 
 As Paul his Lord, in life and death, 
 
 Where’er an aching heart may call, 
 Beady to speed and take no breath ; 
 
 Whose joy is, to the wandering sheep 
 To tell of the great Shepherd’s'love ;f 
 
 To learn of mourners while they weep 
 The music that makes mirth above ; 
 
 Who makes the Saviour all his theme, 
 The Gospel all his pride and praise— 
 
 * In the Epistle to the Philippians, “ I know that 1 j 
 > shall abide and continue with you all: — I count not < 
 myself to have apprehended ” — i. 25; iii. 13. ? 
 
 In 2 Tim., “I have finished my course,” &c.— iv. \ 
 j 7. 8. 
 
 \ t The Gospel of St. Luke abounds most in such ) 
 < passages as the parable of the lost sheep ; such as dis- ? 
 ? play God’s mercy to penitent sinners. > 
 
ST. LUKE. 
 
 287 £ 
 
 Approach : for thou canst feel the gleam 
 That round the martyr’s death-bed plays ; 
 
 Thou hast an ear for angel’s songs, 
 
 A breath the Gospel trump to fill. 
 
 And taught by thee the Church prolongs 
 Her hymns of high thanksgiving still.* 
 
 Ah ! dearest Mother, since too oft 
 The world yet wins some Demas frail 
 Even from thine arms, so kind and soft, 
 May thy tried comforts never fail ! 
 
 When faithless ones forsake thy wing, 
 Be it vouchsafed thee still to see 
 Thy true, fond nurslings closer cling, 
 Cling closer to their Lord and thee. 
 
 I * The Christian hymns are all in St. Luke: 
 $ Magnificat, Benedictus, and Nunc Dimittis. 
 
 the > 
 
| 288 
 
 ST. SIMON AND ST. JUDE. 
 
 ST. SIMON AND ST. JUDE.* 
 
 I [OCTOBER 28.] 
 
 < That ye should earnestly contend fort the faith which < 
 ) was once delivered unto the saints. — St. Jude 3. j 
 s [ Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 > [O Almighty God. who hast built thy Church upon < 
 ? the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus ? 
 ) Christ himself being the head corner-stone ; grant us > 
 
 < so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their doc- < 
 ? trine, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable \ 
 \ unto thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 Seest thou, how tearful and alone, 
 
 And drooping like a wounded dove, 
 
 The cross in sight, but Jesus gone, 
 
 The widow’d Church is fain to rove ? 
 
 Who is at hand that loves the Lord ?J 
 Make haste, and take her home, and bring 
 Thine household choir, in true accord 
 Their soothing hymns for her to sing. 
 
 * [These were both Apostles. Simon is also called 
 ] Zelotes, and the Canaanite, to distinguish him from 
 > Simon Peter. Jude, called Lebbeus and Thaddeus, 
 was the brother of James the lees, and author of the 
 < Epistle which bears his name. There is a tradition 
 \ that they laboured and suffered martyrdom together.] 
 
 t eirayoivi^eaOai : — *' be very anxious for it:” ; 
 “ feel for it as for a friend in jeopardy.” 
 
 t St. John xix. 27. Then saith He to the disciple, ^ 
 l Behold thy mother ; and from that hour that disciple ^ 
 ) took her to his own home. 
 
\ ST. SIMON AND ST. JUDE. 289 \ 
 
 Soft on her fluttering heart shall breathe 
 The fragrance of that genial isle, 
 
 There she may weave her funeral wreath, 
 And to her own sad music smile. 
 
 The spirit of the dying Son 
 
 Is there, and fills the holy place 
 With records sweet of duties done, 
 
 Of pardon’d foes, and cherish’d grace. 
 
 And as of old by two and two* 
 
 His herald saints the SaViour sent 
 To soften hearts like morning dew, 
 Where He to shine in mercy meant ; 
 
 So evermore He deems his name 
 Best honour’d and his way prepared, 
 When watching by his altar-flame 
 He sees his servants duly pair’d. 
 
 He loves when age and youth are met, 
 Fervent old age and youth serene, 
 
 Their high and low 7 in concord set 
 For sacred song, Joy’s golden mean. 
 
 He loves when some clear soaring mind 
 Is drawn by mutual piety 
 To simple souls and unrefined, 
 
 Who in life’s shadiest covert lie. 
 
 Or if perchance a sadden’d heart 
 That once was gay and felt the spring, 
 Cons slowly o’er its alter’d part, 
 
 In sorrow and remorse to sing, 
 
 Thy gracious care will send that way 
 Some spirit full of glee, yet taught 
 To hear the sight of dull decay. 
 
 And nurse it with all pitying thought; 
 
 * St. Mark vi. 7. St. Luke x. 1. 
 
j 290 
 
 ST. SIMON AND ST. JUDE. 
 
 Cheerful as soaring lark, and mild* 
 
 As evening blackbird’s full-toned lay, 
 
 When the relenting sun has smiled 
 Bright through a whole December day. 
 
 * [“Upon such a field one has the best chance of > 
 ; hearing the matin song of the year. While the morn- < 
 
 < ing is yet cold there are but a tew complaining chirps, < 
 ) and the birds chiefiy appear in short fiights, which | 
 
 < have much the appearance of leaps under the hedges. ] 
 
 < As the morning gets warm, however, a few are found ( > 
 { running along the furrows, and one brown fellow, < 
 ^perched on a clod, partially erecting a crest of fea- \ 
 [ thers, and looking around him with a mingled air of s 
 
 < complacency and confidence, utters a * chur-ree’ in an ? 
 
 < under tone, as if he were trying the lowest and the } 
 £ highest notes of an instrument. The notes are re- j 
 
 < strained, but they have enough of music in them to ; 
 > cause you to wish for a repetition. That, however, \ 
 \ does not in general come ; but instead of it there is a l 
 
 I 1 single ‘ churr’ murmured from a distance, and so soft 5 
 as hardly to be audible ; and the bird that was station- ( 
 ed upon the clod has vanished, nor can you lor some > 
 time find out what has become of him. His flight is \ 
 at first upward, and bears some resemblance to the 5 
 smoke of a fire on a calm day, gradually expanding 5 
 into a spiral as it rises above the surface. But no ] 
 sooner has he gained the proper elevation, than down > 
 4 showers his song, filling the whole air with the most < 
 < cheerful melody ; and you feel more gay, more glee ? 
 > and lifting up of the heart, than when any other music S 
 s meets your ear. < 
 
 ? The opening of the day and of the year comes fresh < 
 S to your fancy, as you instinctively repeat — 
 
 < 4 Hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings.* 
 
 \ The lark indeed is the signal both for the season and < 
 j the day. The very first sun of the young year calls < 
 < up the lark to pour his song from the sky. Nor can 5 
 5 any thing be more in harmony with the situation m < 
 < which we find it, than the song of the lark. The bird 5 
 > is the very emblem of freedom ; floating in the thm s 
 
These are the tones to brace and cheer 
 The lonely watcher of the fold, 
 
 When nights are dark, and foemen near, 
 When visions fade and hearts grow cold. 
 
 How timely then a comrade’s song 
 Comes floating on the mountain air. 
 And bids thee yet be bold and strong — 
 Fancy may die, but Faith is there. 
 
 ALL SAINTS’ DAT.* 
 
 [NOVEMBER 1.] 
 
 Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till !> 
 | we have sealed the servants of our God in their tore- > 
 
 > heads . — Revelation vii. 3. 
 
 [O Almighty God, who hast knit together thine elect £ 
 \ in one communion and fellowship, in the mystical body > 
 | of thy Son Christ our Lord ; grant us grace so to fol- < 
 ! low thy blessed Saints in all virtuous and godly living, / 
 | that we may come to those unspeakable joys, which S 
 ' thou hast prepared for those who unfeignedly love \ 
 I thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 ; air, with spreading tail, and outstretched wings, and > 
 
 ; moving its little head delightedly, first to the one side, ? 
 
 ' and then to the other, as if it would communicate its > 
 ) joy around, it at last soars to such an elevation, that ( 
 if visible at ail, it is a mere dark speck in the blue ? 
 ; vault of heaven, and carolling over the young year or s 
 
 > the young day, while all is bustle and activity, the airy ? 
 wildness of the song makes its whole character more S 
 peculiar and striking.” — Mudie's British Naturalist, 
 
 > ii. pp. 1 10 to 114.] 
 
 * [This festival is appointed for the commemoration ? 
 of all those saints and martyrs to whom no particular s 
 ) day is assigned.] 
 
Why blow’st thou not, thou winery wind, 
 Now every leaf is brown and sere, 
 
 And idly droops, to thee resign’d, 
 
 The fading chaplet of the year ? 
 
 Yet wears the pure aerial sky 
 Her summer veil, half drawn on high, 
 
 Of silvery haze, and dark and still 
 
 How quiet shows the woodland scene ! 
 
 \ Each flower and tree, its duty done, 
 
 > Reposing in decay serene, 
 
 ] Like weary men when age is won, 
 
 <; Such calm old age as conscience pure 
 
 I And self-commanding hearts ensure, 
 
 Waiting their summons to the sky, 
 
 Content to live, but not afraid to die. 
 
 Sure if our eyes were purged to trace 
 God’s unseen armies hovering round, 
 
 We should behold by angels’ grace 
 The four strong winds of heaven fast bound, 
 Their downward sweep a moment stay’d 
 i On ocean cove and forest glade, 
 s Till the last flower of autumn shed 
 | Her funeral odours on her dying bed. 
 
 \ So in thine awful armory, Lord, 
 
 \ The lightnings of the judgment day 
 ' Pause yet awhile, in mercy stored, 
 
 ) Till willing hearts wear quite away 
 > Their earthly stains ; and spotless shine 
 ) On every brow in light divine 
 ? The Cross by angel hands' impress’d, 
 
 The seal of glory won and pledge of promised 
 rest. 
 
HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 293 
 
 Little they dream, those haughty souls 
 Whom empires own with bended knee, 
 
 What lowly fate their own controls, 
 
 Together link’d by Heaven’s decree ; — 
 
 As bloodhounds hush their baying wild 
 To wanton with some fearless child, 
 
 So Famine waits, and War with greedy eyes, 
 
 ] Till some repenting heart be ready for the skies. 
 
 Think ye the spires that .glow so bright 
 In front of yonder setting sun. 
 
 Stand by their own unshaken might ? 
 
 No— where th’ upholding grace is won, 
 
 We dare not ask, nor Heaven would tell, 
 
 But sure from many a hidden dell, 
 
 From many a rural nook unthought of there 
 > Rises for that proud world the saints’ prevailing £ 
 prayer. 
 
 On, champions blest, in Jesus’ name, 
 
 Short be your strife, your triumph full, 
 
 Till every heart have caught your flame, 
 
 And, lighten’d of the world’s misrule, 
 
 Ye soar those elder saints to meet, 
 
 Gather’d long since at Jesus’ feet, 
 
 No world of passions to destroy, 
 
 ] Your prayers and struggles o’er, your task all ^ 
 praise and joy. 
 
 HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 O God of Mercy, God of Might, 
 
 How should pale sinners bear the sight, 
 If, as Thy power is surely here, 
 
 Thine open glory should appear? 
 
HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 For now Thy people are allow’d 
 To scale the mount and pierce the cloud, 
 And Faith may feed her eager view 
 With wonders Sinai never knew. 
 
 Fresh from th’ atoning sacrifice 
 The world’s Creator bleeding lies, 
 
 That man, his foe, by whom He bled, 
 May take Him for his daily bread. 
 
 Oh ! agony of wavering thought 
 When sinners first so near are brought ! 
 
 “ It is my Maker— dare I stay ? 
 
 My Saviour— dare I turn away?”* 
 
 Thus while the storm is high within 
 ’Twixt love of Christ and fear of sin, 
 Who can express the soothing charm, 
 
 To feel thy kind upholding arm, 
 
 My mother Church? and hear thee tell 
 Of a world lost, yet loved so well, 
 
 That He, hy whom the angels live, 
 
 His only Son for her would give.f 
 
 And doubt we yet ? thou call’st again ; 
 
 A lower still, a sweeter strain ; 
 
 A voice from mercy’s inmost shrine. 
 
 The very breath of love divine. 
 
 : [See the exhortations to the Communion, in the \ 
 
 > Book of Common Prayer. It would seem that no < 
 
 > Christian, who in humility and sincerity reads the ? 
 
 > Scripture passages on this subject, and the commen- S 
 
 > tary there given, could doubt as to God’s will, or his < 
 
 > own duty.] 5 
 
 > t ‘‘God so loved the world, that He gave his only \ 
 < begotten Son.” See the sentences in the Communion < 
 i Service, after the Confession. 
 
HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 295 \ 
 
 Whispering it says to each apart, 
 
 “ Come unto me. thou trembling heart 
 And we must hope, so sweet the tone, 
 
 The precious words are all our own. 
 
 Hear them, kind Saviour — hear thy spouse 
 Low at thy feet renew her vows ; 
 
 Thine own dear promise she would plead 
 For us her true though fallen seed. 
 
 She pleads by all thy mercies, told 
 Thy chosen witnesses of old. 
 
 Love’s heralds sent to man forgiven. 
 
 One from the cross, and one from heaven.t 
 
 This, of true penitents the chief, 
 
 To the lost spirit brings relief, 
 
 Lifting on high the adored name 
 “ Sinners to save, Christ Jesus came.”J 
 
 That, dearest of thy bosom friends, 
 
 Into the wavering heart descends : — 
 
 “ What ! fallen again ? yet cheerful rise,§ 
 Thine intercessor never dies.” 
 
 The eye of faith, that waxes bright 
 F>ach moment by thine altar’s light, 
 
 Sees them, e’en now: they still abide 
 In mystery kneeling at our side ; 
 
 ( r Come unto me. all ye that travail, and are heavy 
 
 > laden, and I will refresh you. 
 
 t St. Paul and St. John. 
 
 t This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all men to 
 
 > be received, That Christ Jesus came into the world to 
 \ save sinners. 
 
 , § If any man sin, we have an advocate with the 
 
 > Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. 
 
 % 
 
’ 296 
 
 HOLY BAPTISM. 
 
 And with them every spirit blest. 
 
 From realms of triumph or of rest. 
 
 From Him who saw creation’s morn, 
 
 Of all thine angels eldest born, 
 
 To the poor babe, who died to-day, 
 
 Take part in our thanksgiving lay,* 
 Watching the tearful joy and calm. 
 
 While sinners taste thine heavenly balm. 
 Sweet awful hour! the only sound 
 One gentle footstep gliding round, 
 Offering by turns on Jesus’ part 
 The cross to every hand and heart. 
 Refresh us, Lord, to hold it fast; 
 
 And when thy veil is drawn at last. 
 
 Let us depart where shadows cease, 
 
 With words of blessing and of peace. 
 
 HOLT BAPTISM.t* 
 
 Where is it, mothers learn their love? — 
 
 In every Church a fountain springs 
 O’er which th’ eternal Dove 
 Hovers on softest wings. 
 
 * [The Communion of Saints. There is an admi- 
 ? rable sermon on this subject, by the Rev. Charles 
 
 > Forster, the Chaplain, companion and bosom friend of 
 ? the late inestimable Bishop of Limerick, Dr. Jebb, to 
 [ whose memory it is dedicated. It was printed, but not 
 J published.] 
 
 t [There is a soothing sacred beauty in these lines, 
 
 > peculiar and indescribable. The strain they breathe 
 [ comes sweetly and sofily on the soul, like a sleeping 
 
 > infant’s breath. We are mistaken if they do not make 
 f all Christian mothers in love with Keble’s poetry.] 
 
HOLY BAPTISM. 
 
 What sparkles in that lucid flood 
 Is water, by gross mortals eyed: 
 
 But seen by faith, ’t is blood 
 Out of a dear Friend’s side. 
 
 A few calm words of faith and prayer, 
 A few bright drops of holy dew, 
 
 Shall work a wonder there 
 Earth’s charmers never knew. 
 
 O happy arms, where cradled lies, 
 
 And ready for the Lord’s embrace, 
 That precious sacrifice, 
 
 The darling of his grace ! 
 
 Blest eyes, that see the smiling gleam 
 Upon the slumbering features glow, 
 When the life-giving stream 
 Touches the tender brow ! 
 
 Or when the holy cross is sign’d, 
 
 And the young soldier duly sworn. 
 With true and fearless mind 
 To serve the Virgin-born. 
 
 But happiest ye, who seal’d and blest 
 Back to your arms your treasure take, 
 With Jesus’ mark impress’d 
 To nurse for Jesus’ sake : 
 
 To whom— as if in hallow’d air 
 Ye knelt before some awful shrine— 
 His innocent gestures wear 
 A meaning halfdivine: 
 
 By whom love’s daily touch is seen 
 In strengthening form and freshening 
 In the fix’d brow serene, 
 
 The deep yet eager view. — 
 
5 298 
 
 CA.TECHISM. 
 
 l 
 
 Who taught thy pure and even breath 
 To come and go with such sweet grace ? 
 
 Whence thy reposing faith, 
 
 Though in our frail embrace ? 
 
 O tender gem, and full' of Heaven ! 
 
 Not in the twilight stars on high, 
 
 Not in moist flowers at even 
 See we our God so nigh. 
 
 Sweet one, make haste and know Him too, 
 Thine own adopting Father love, 
 
 That like thine earliest dew 
 Thy dying sweets may prove. 
 
 CATECHISM.* 
 
 Oh say not, dream not, heavenly notes 
 To childish ears are vain, 
 
 That the young mind at random floats, 
 
 And cannot reach the strain. 
 
 Dim or unheard, the words may fall, 
 
 And yet the heaven-taught mind 
 May learn the sacred air, and all 
 The harmony unwind-! 
 
 * [From the Font our poet passes to the Catechism. < 
 We would that he might take all Christian parents and < 
 sponsors with him.] < 
 
 t [The common but groundless objection, that ( 
 children cannot understand the Catechism, is beauti- £ 
 fully and effectually answered in these lines. It applies t 
 with equal force to the several branches of human ; 
 learning. In grammar, in mathematics, in philosophy, £ 
 the child learns much that he does not fully compre- 
 
CATECHISM. 
 
 299 : 
 
 Was not our Lord a little child,* 
 
 Taught by degrees to pray, 
 
 By father dear and mother mild 
 Instructed day by day? 
 
 And loved He not of heaven to talk 
 With children in hi« sight, 
 
 To meet them in his daily walk, 
 
 And to his arms invite? 
 
 What though around His throne of fire 
 The everlasting chant 
 Be wafted from the seraph choir 
 In glory jubilant ? 
 
 Yet stoops He, ever pleased to mark 
 Our rude essays of love, 
 
 Faint as the pipe of wakening lark, 
 
 Heard by some twilight grove : 
 
 Yet is He near us, to survey 
 
 These bright and order’d files, 
 
 Like spring-flowers in their best array. 
 
 All silence and all smiles, 
 
 Save that each little voice in turn 
 Some glorious truth proclaims, — 
 
 What sages would have died to learn, 
 
 Now taught by cottage dames.j: 
 
 \ hend. But it is stored in his memory, and as his intel- 
 r lectual powers are developed, he understands its mean- ) 
 5 ing. So it must be with the Scriptures, as well as with 5 
 ] the Catechism.] 
 
 * [’‘And he went down with them, and came to Na- < 
 ? zareth, and was subject unto them ; and his mother \ 
 5 kept all these sayings in her heart. And Jesus in- 5 
 < creased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God 
 \ and man .” — Luke ii. 51, 52.] 
 
 t [Truths are made familiar to children in the Sun-^ 
 
And if some tones be false or low, 
 
 What are all prayers beneath 
 
 But cries of babes, that cannot know 
 Half the deep thought they breathe? 
 
 In his own words we Christ adore, 
 
 But angels, as we speak, 
 
 Higher above our meaning soar 
 Than we o’er children weak : 
 
 And yet His words mean more than they, 
 And yet He owns their praise ; 
 
 Why should we think, He turns away 
 From infants’ simple lays? 
 
 CONFIRMATION.* 
 
 The shadow of th’ Almighty’s cloud 
 Calm on the tents of Israel lay, 
 
 While drooping paused twelve banners proud, 
 Till He arise and lead the way. 
 
 > dny school which Plato and Cicero longed to ascertain, 
 i Ye a, 
 
 “ Prophets and kings desired to know, 
 
 And died without the sight:”] 
 
 * [“ It is certainly not a sacrament, but I know it is 
 ! a means of grace, and 1 trust and believe, generally 
 
 > speaking, an efficacious means. And how simple the 
 
 > rite itself is ; and how very natural in both its parts ! 
 
 1 “ How natural it seems, that those to whom a gra- 
 
 > cious God has given life, and health, and happiness, 
 ( and beauty, should, as soon as they are old enough to 
 
 2 look round on the fair creation, amidst which they 
 i are placed as the fairest, desire of themselves, to place 
 \ themselves under the care of its beneficent God. Yet, 
 

 Then to the desert breeze unroll’d, 
 Cheerly the waving pennons fly, 
 
 Lion or eagle— each bright fold 
 A loadstar to a warrior’s eye. 
 
 So, should thy champions, ere the strife, 
 By holy hands o’ershadow’d kneel, 
 
 So, fearless for their charmed life, 
 
 Bear, to the end, thy Spirit’s seal. 
 
 Steady and pure as stars that beam 
 In middle heaven, all mist above. 
 
 Seen deepest in the frozen stream 
 Such is their high courageous love. 
 
 And soft as pure, and warm as bright, 
 They brood upon life’s peaceful hour, 
 
 As if the Dove that guides their flight 
 Shook from her plumes a downy shower. 
 
 Spirit of might and sweetness too! 
 
 Now leading on t,he wars of God, 
 
 < alas ! there I mistake my ground ; that was man’s na- 
 l tural condition once, when * God saw every thing that 
 
 < he had made, and behold it was very good but the 
 J case is entirely altered now ; yet it is meet and right, 
 | that. if. having been afar off, they have been brought 
 
 < near by the blood of Christ, sprinkled with the waters 
 ) of baptism, and taken, when unconscious of the privi- 
 ^ lege, into covenant with the most high God— it is na- 
 
 < tural, that if they have any feeling, any gratitude, 
 $ they should desire to renew the vow, and enter into 
 
 < the covenant, for themselves. And how simply beau- 
 l tiful our service is— how free from superstitious pomp, 
 
 < and unmeaning ceremony on the one hand — and on 
 ( the other, how impressive, how solemn : how all 
 \ things are done decently and in order.”— Scenes in 
 l our Parish, by “ a Country Parson's Daughter .” 
 
 
j 302 
 
 MATRIMONY. 
 
 Now to green isles of shade and dew 
 Turning the waste thy people trod ; 
 
 Draw, Holy Ghost, thy seven-fold veil 
 Between us and the fires of youth ; 
 
 Breathe, Holy Ghost, thy freshening gale, 
 Our fever'd brow in age to soothe. 
 
 And oft as sin and sorrow tire, 
 
 The hallow’d hour do Thou renew, 
 
 When beckon’d up the awful choir 
 By pastoral hands, toward Thee we drew ; 
 
 When trembling at the sacred rail 
 We hid our eyes and held our breath, 
 
 Felt Thee how strong, our hearts how frail, 
 And long’d to own Thee to the death. 
 
 For ever on our souls be traced 
 That blessing dear, that dove-like hand, 
 
 A sheltering rock in Memory’s waste, 
 O’ershadowing all the weary land. 
 
 MATRIMONY. , 
 
 There is an awe in mortals’ joy, 
 
 A deep mysterious fear 
 Half of the heart will still employ, 
 As if we drew too near 
 To Eden’s portal, and those fires 
 That bicker round in wavy spires, 
 Forbidding, to our frail desires, 
 What cost us once so dear. 
 
MATRIMONY. 
 
 303 i 
 
 We cower bfefore th’ heart-searching eye 
 In rapture as in pain, 
 
 Even wedded Love, till Thou be nigh, 
 
 Dares not believe her gain : 
 
 Then in the air she fearless springs, 
 
 The breath of Heaven beneath her wings, 
 And leaves her wood-note wild, and sings 
 A tuned and measured strain. 
 
 Ill fare the lay, though soft as dew 
 And free as air it fall, 
 
 That, with thine altar full in view, 
 
 Thy votaries would enthrall 
 To a foul dream, of heathen night, 
 
 Lifting her torch in Love’s despite, 
 
 And scaring with base wildfire light 
 The sacred nuptial hall. 
 
 Far other strains, far other fires, 
 
 Our marriage offering grace; 
 
 Welcome, all chaste and kind desires, 
 
 With even matron pace 
 Approaching down the hallow’d aisle! 
 
 Where should ye seek Love’s perfect smile, 
 
 But where your prayers were learn’d erewhile, 
 In her own native place?* 
 
 Where but on His benignest brow, 
 
 Who waits to bless you here? 
 
 Living, He own’d no nuptial vow, 
 
 No bower to fancy dear : 
 
 , [Marriage should always be performed in the < 
 [ church, i here is a departure in this respect from her > 
 ; provisions, and from Christian propriety, much to be > 
 » regretted.] 
 
I 304 VISITATION AND COMMUNION OF THE SICK. < 
 
 Love’s very self— for Him no need 
 To nurse, on earth, the heavenly seed: 
 
 Yet comfort in His eye we read 
 For bridal joy and fear. 
 
 ’Tis He who clasps the marriage band, 
 
 And fits the spousal ring. 
 
 Then leaves ye kneeling, hand in hand, 
 
 Out of His stores to bring 
 His Father’s dearest blessing, shed 
 Of old on Isaac’s nuptial bed, 
 
 Now on the board before ye spread 
 Of our all-bounteous King. 
 
 All blessings of the breast and womb, 
 
 Of heaven and earth beneath, 
 
 Of converse high, and sacred home, 
 
 Are yours, in life and death. 
 
 Only kneel on, nor turn away 
 From the pure shrine, where Christ to day 
 Will store each flower ye duteous lay, 
 
 For an eternal wreath. 
 
 VISITATION AND COMMUNION OF 
 THE SICE. 
 
 0 Youth and Joy, your airy tread 
 Too lightly springs by Sorrow’s bed, 
 
 Your keen eye-glances are too bright, 
 
 Too restless for a sick rtian’s sight. 
 
 Farewell : for one short life we part; 
 
 1 rather woo the soothing art, 
 
 Which only souls in sufferings tried 
 Bear to their suffering brethren’s side. 
 
 
j VISITATION AND COMMUNION OF THE SICK. 305 { 
 
 Where may we learn that gentle spell ? 
 
 Mother of Martyrs, thou canst tell ! 
 
 Thou, who didst watch thv dying Spouse 
 With pierced hands and bleeding brows, 
 
 Whose tears from age to age are shed 
 O’er sainted sons' untimely dead, 
 
 If e’er we charm a soul in pain, 
 
 Thine is the key-note of our strain. 
 
 How sweet with thee to lift the latch, 
 
 Where Faith has kept her midnight watch, 
 Smiling on wo: with thee to kneel, 
 
 Where fix’d, as if one prayer could heal, 
 
 She listens, till her pale eye glow 
 With joy, wild health can never know, 
 
 And each calm feature, ere we read, 
 
 Speaks, silently, thy glorious Creed. 
 
 Such have I: seen : a nd while they pour’d 
 Their hearts in every contrite word, 
 
 How have I rather long’d to kneel 
 And ask of them sweet pardon’s seal! 
 
 How bless’d the heavenly music brought 
 By thee to aid my faltering thought! 
 
 “ Peace,” ere w,e kneel, and when we cease 
 To pray, the farewell word is, “ Peace.”* 
 
 I came again : the place was bright. 
 
 “ With something of celestial light”— 
 
 A simple altar by the bed 
 
 For high Communion meetly spread, 
 
 \ * [At his entrance, the minister says, 44 Peace be to > 
 
 \ this house, and to all that dweli in it.” The blessing, S 
 < at the close, concludes with these words, 44 The Lord l 
 ) lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace ? 
 s both now and evermore.”] 
 
 20 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 Chalice, and plate, and snowy vest. — 
 We ate and drank: then calmly blest A 
 All mourners, one with dying breath, 
 We 6ate and talk’d of Jesus’ death. 
 
 Once more I came: the silent room 
 Was veil’d in sadly.soothing gloom, 
 And ready for her last abode 
 The pale form like a lily show’d, 
 
 By virgin fingers duly spread, 
 
 And prized for love of summer fled. 
 The light from those soft smiling eyes 
 Had fleeted to its parent skies. 
 
 O soothe us, haunt us, night and day, 
 
 Ye gentle spirits far away, 
 
 With whom we shared the cup of grace, 
 Then parted ; ye to Christ’s embrace, 
 We to the lonesome world again, 
 
 Yet mindful of th’ unearthly strain 
 Practised with you at Eden’s door, 
 
 To be sung on, where angels soar, 
 With blended voices evermore. 
 
 BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion 
 on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came 
 and touched the bier (and they that bare him stood 
 still) and He said. Young man, l say unto thee, Arise. 
 — St. Luke vii. 13, 14. 
 
 Who says, the wan autumnal sun 
 Beams with too faint a smile 
 
 To light up nature’s face again, 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 307 \ 
 
 And, though the year be on the wane, 
 
 With thoughts of spring the heart beguile ? 
 
 Waft him, thou soft September breeze, 
 
 And gently lay him down 
 Within some circling woodland wall, 
 
 Where bright leaves, reddening ere they fall, 
 Wave gaily o’er the waters brown. 
 
 And let some graceful arch be there 
 With wreathed mullions proud, 
 
 With burnish’d ivy for its screen, 
 
 And moss, that glows as fresh and green 
 As though beneath an April cloud. — 
 
 Who says the widow’s heart must break, 
 
 The childless mother sink ? — 
 
 A kinder, truer voice I hear, 
 
 Which even beside that mournful bier 
 
 Whence parents’ eyes would hopeless shrink, 
 
 Bids weep no more — O heart bereft. 
 
 How strange, to thee, that sound! 
 
 A widow o’er her only son, 
 
 Feeling more bitterly alone 
 For friends that press officious round. 
 
 Yet is the voice of comfort heard, 
 
 For Christ hath touch’d the bier — 
 
 The bearers wait with wondering eye, 
 
 The swelling bosom dares not sigh, 
 
 But all is still, ’twixt hope and fear. 
 
 Even such an awful soothing calm 
 We sometimes see alight 
 On Christian mourners, while they wait 
 In silence, by some church-yard gate, 
 
 Their summons to the holy rite. 
 
\ 308 
 
 BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 
 And such the tones of love, which break 
 The stillness of that hour, 
 
 Quelling th’ imbitter’d spirit’s strife — 
 
 “ The Resurrection and the Life 
 Am I : believe, and die no more.” 
 
 Unchanged that voice— and though not yet 
 The dead sit up and speak, 
 
 Answering its call ; we gladlier rest 
 Our darlings on earth’s quiet breast, 
 
 And our hearts feel they must not break. 
 
 Far better they should sleep awhile 
 Within the church’s shade ; 
 
 Nor wake, until new heaven, new earth, 
 Meet for their new immortal birth, 
 
 For their abiding place be made, 
 
 Than wander back to life, and lean 
 On our frail love once more. 
 
 ’T is sweet, as year by year we lose 
 Friend^ out of sight, in faith to muse 
 How grows in Paradise our store. 
 
 Then pass, ye mourners, cheerly on, 
 Through prayer unto the tomb, 
 
 Still, as ye watch life’s falling leaf, 
 Gathering from every loss and grief 
 Hope of new spring and endless home. 
 
 Then cheerly to your work again 
 With hearts new-braced and set 
 To run, untired, love’s blessed race, 
 
 As meet for those, who face to face 
 Over the grave their Lord have met. 
 
CHURCHING OF WOMEN. 
 
 309 
 
 CHURCHING- OF WOMEN.* 
 
 Is there, in bowers of endless spring, 
 
 One known from all the seraph band 
 By softer voice, by smile and wing 
 More exquisitely bland ? 
 
 Here let him speed : to-day this hallow’d air 
 ; Is fragrant with a mother’s first and fondest ^ 
 prayer. 
 
 Only let Heaven her fire impart, 
 
 No richer incense breathes on earth : 
 
 “A spouse with all a daughter’s heart,” 
 
 Fresh from the perilous birth, 
 
 To the great Father lifts her pale glad eye, 
 
 ! Like a reviving flower when storms are hush’d \ 
 on high. 
 
 O what a treasure of sweet thought 
 Is here ! what hope and joy and love 
 All in one tender bosom brought, 
 
 For the all-gracious Dove 
 To brood o’er silently, and form for heaven 
 \ Each passionate wish and dream to dear affection \ 
 given. 
 
 Her fluttering heart, too keenly blest, 
 
 Would sicken, but she leans on Thee, 
 
 * [Why is it that this beautiful and most affecting > 
 ? rite is so little observed 1 Ought not the appropriate < 
 ? thanksgiving, at least, be offered, in acknowledgment £ 
 5 of God’s great mercy, by every mother ?] 
 
< 310 
 
 COMMINATION. 
 
 Sees Thee by faith on Mary’s breast, 
 
 And breathes serene and free, 
 
 Slight tremblings only of her veil declare* 
 
 \ Soft answers duly whisper'd to each soothing | 
 prayer. 
 
 We are too weak, when Thou dost bless, 
 
 To bear the joy — help, Virgin -born 1 
 By thine own mother’s first caress, 
 
 That waked thy natal morn ! 
 
 Help, by the unexpressive smile, that made 
 > A heaven on earth around the couch where Thou < 
 wast laid ! 
 
 COMMINATION. f 
 
 The prayers are o’er : why slumberest thou < 
 so long, 
 
 Thou voice of sacred song? 
 
 Why swell’st thou not, like breeze from \ 
 mountain cave, 
 
 High o’er the echoing nave, $ 
 
 The white robed priest, as other while, to S 
 guide 
 
 Up to the altar’s northern side ?— 
 
 * When the woman comes to this office, the rubric 
 ? (as it was altered at the last review) directs lhat she be 
 S decently apparelled , that is, as the custom and order 
 < was formerly, with a white covering ox veil.- Wheatley 
 $ on the Common Prayeri c. xiii. sect. i. 3. 
 
 ? t [“ A Commination, or denouncing of God’s anger 
 s and judgments against sinners, with certain prayers, to 
 l be used on the first day of Lent, and at other limes, 
 
 S as the ordinary shall appoint.” This service is not re- 
 l tained in the Liturgy of the American Church.] 
 
GOMMINATION. 
 
 311 ; 
 
 A mourner’s tale of shame and sad decay 
 \ Keeps back our glorious sacrifice to-day : 
 
 The widow’d Spouse of Christ : with ashes j 
 crown’d, 
 
 Her Christmas robes unbound, 
 
 She lingers in the porch for grief and fear, 
 Keeping her penance drear.— 
 
 Oh ! is it naught to you that, idly gay 
 Or coldly proud, ye turn away ? 
 
 But if her warning tears in vain be spent, 
 f Lo, to her alter’d eye the law’s stern fires are j 
 lent. 
 
 Each awful curse, that on Mount Ebal rang, j 
 Peals with a direr clang 
 Out of that silver trump, whose tones of old j 
 Forgiveness only told. 
 
 And who can blame the mother’s fond \ 
 affright,* 
 
 Who sporting on some giddy height 
 Her infant sees, and springs with hurried hand \ 
 \ To snatch the rover from the dangerous strand ? 
 
 But surer than all words the silent spell 
 (So Grecian legends tell) 
 
 * Alluding to a beautiful anecdote in the Greek i 
 > Anthology, tom. i. 180, ed. Jacobs.— -See Pleasures of ^ 
 ; Memory, p. 133. 
 
 [“ While on the cliff with calm delight she kneels, 
 And the blue vales a thousand joys recall, 
 
 See, to the last, last verge her infant steals ! 
 
 O fly — yet stir not, speak not, lest it fall. 
 
 Far better taught, she lays her bosom bare, 
 
 And the fond boy springs back to nestle there 1” 
 Rogers, from, a Greek Epigram .1 
 
C0MM1NATI0N. 
 
 When to her bird, too early scaped the nest, 
 She bares her tender breast. 
 
 Smiling he turns and spreads his little wing, 
 There to glide home, there safely cling. 
 So yearns our mother o’er each truant son, 
 
 So softly falls the lay in fear and wrath begun. 
 
 Wayward and spoil’d she knows ye : the keen 
 blast, 
 
 That braced her youth, is past : 
 
 The rod of discipline, the robe of shame — 
 She bears them in your name: 
 
 Only return and love. But ye perchance 
 Are deeper plunged in sorrow’s trance : 
 Your God forgives, but ye no comfort take 
 Till ye have scourged the sins that in your con- 
 science ache. 
 
 O heavy-laden soul ! kneel down and hear 
 Thy penance in calm fear, 
 
 With thine own lips to sentence all thy sin ; 
 
 Then, by the judge within 
 Absolved, in thankful sacrifice to part 
 For ever with thy sullen heart, 
 
 Nor on remorseful thoughts to brood, and stain 
 The glory of the Cross, forgiven and cheer’d in 
 vain. 
 
FORMS OF PRAYER TO BE USED AT SEA. 313*1" 
 
 j FORMS OF PRATER TO RE USED AT j 
 SEA. 
 
 } When thou passest through the waters, I will be with \ 
 s thee. — Isaiah xliii. 2. 
 
 < The shower of moonlight falls as still and clear 
 
 i Upon the desert main, 
 
 ) As where sweet flowers some pastoral garden < 
 ? cheer 
 
 l With fragrance after rain ; 
 
 The wild winds rustle in the piping shrouds, 
 s As in the quivering trees: 
 
 < Like summer fields, beneath the shadowy clouds ^ 
 
 < The yielding waters darken in the breeze. 
 
 ^ Thou too art here with thy soft inland tones, 
 Mother of our new, birth ;* 
 
 ( The lonely ocean learns thy orisons, 
 j And loves thy sacred mirth: 
 
 ) When storms are high, or when the fires of war \ 
 
 > Come lightening round our course, 
 l Thou breathest a note like music from afar, 
 l Tempering rude hearts with calm angelic force. \ 
 
 ] Far, far away, the home-sick seaman’s hoard, 
 
 Thy fragrant tokens live, 
 
 \ Like flower-leaves in a precious volume stored, 
 To solace and relieve 
 
 < Some heart too weary of the restless world ; 
 
 < Or like thy Sabbath Cross, f 
 
 ? That o’er the brightening billow streams unfurl’d, | 
 ? Whatever gale the labouring vessel toss. 
 
 i * [The Church.] 
 
 ( t [The allusion is to the British dag, bearing a Cross, 
 
 > which is always displayed on Sundays.] 
 
> 314 FORMS OF PRAYER TO BE USED AT SEA. 
 
 > Oh, kindly soothing in high victory’s hour, 
 
 Or when a comrade dies, 
 
 ; In whose sweet presence sorrow dares not lower, £ 
 Nor expectation rise 
 
 ! Too high for earth ; what mother’s heart could J 
 spare 
 
 To the cold cheerless deep 
 ! Her flower and hope? but thou art with him $ 
 ; there, 5 
 
 ; Pledge of the untired arm and eye that cannot l 
 sleep : 
 
 ’ The eye that watches o’er wild ocean’s dead, 
 
 Each in his coral cave, 
 
 ! Fondly as if the green turf wrapt his head 
 Fast by his father’s grave. — 
 
 ; One moment and the seeds of life shall spring 
 Out of the waste abyss, 
 
 And happy warriors triumph with their King 
 In worlds without a sea,* unchanging orbs of \ 
 bliss. 
 
 * [And there was no more sea.— Rev. xxi. l.J 
 
 
GUNPOWDER TREASON. 
 
 315 i 
 
 GUN POWDER TREASON.* 
 
 [NOVEMBER 5.] 
 
 > As thou hast testified of me at Jerusalem, so must £ 
 
 > thou also bear witness at Rome . — Acts xxiii. 11, 
 
 Beneath the burning eastern sky 
 The Cross was raised at morn ; 
 
 The widow’d Church to weep stood by, 
 
 The world, to hate .and scorn. 
 
 Now, journeying westward, evermore 
 We know the lonely Spouse 
 
 By the dear mark her Saviour bo»e 
 Traced on her patient brows. 
 
 At Rome she wears it, as of old 
 Upon th’ accursed hill : 
 
 By monarchs clad in gems and gold, 
 
 She goes a mourner still. 
 
 She mourns that tender hearts should bend 
 Before a meaner shrine, 
 
 And upon saint or angel spend 
 The love that should be thine. 
 
 By day and night her sorrows fall 
 Where miscreant hands and rude 
 
 * LThe 5th of November is kept as a holiday by the s 
 Church of England in commemoration of the wonder- ? 
 ful preservation vouchsafed to her on that day, in the { 
 year 1605, by the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot.] 
 
 
GUNPOWDER TREASON. 
 
 j 316 
 
 Have stain’d her pure ethereal pall 
 With many a martyr’s blood. 
 
 And yearns not her parental heart, 
 
 To hear their secret sighs, 
 
 Upon whose doubting way apart 
 Bewildering shadows rise? 
 
 Who to her side in peace would cling. 
 But fear to wake, and find 
 What they had deemed her genial wing 
 Was error’s soothing blind. 
 
 She treasures up each throbbing prayer; 
 
 Come, trembler, come and pour 
 Into her bosom all thy care, 
 
 For she has balm in store. 
 
 Her gentle teaching sweetly blends 
 With the clear light of truth 
 The aerial gleam that fancy lends 
 To solemn thoughts in youth. 
 
 If thou hast loved, in hours of gloom, 
 To dream the dead are near, 
 
 And people all the lonely room 
 With guardian spirits dear, 
 
 Dream on the soothing dream at will: 
 The lurid mist is o’er, 
 
 That show’d the righteous suffering still 
 Upon th’ eternal shore. 
 
 If with thy heart the strains accord, 
 That on His altar-throne 
 Highest exalt thy glorious Lord, 
 
 Yet leave Him most thine own ; 
 

 Oh! come to our Communion Feast; 
 
 There present in the heart. 
 
 Not in the hands, th’ eternal Priest 
 Will his true self impart. 
 
 Thus, should thy soul misgiving turn 
 Back to th’ enchanted air, 
 
 Solace and warning thou may’st learn 
 From all that tempts thee there. 
 
 And oh ! by all the pangs and fears 
 Fraternal spirits know, 
 
 When for an elder’s shame the tears 
 Of wakeful anguish flow, 
 
 Speak gently of our sister’s fall ; 
 
 Who knows but gentle love 
 May win her at our patient call 
 The surer way to prove ?* 
 
 * [Would that there were more to join in this, as 
 i truly wise as it i9 truly pious, sentiment! What have 
 l Christian men to do with calling down fire from hea- 
 > ven? When was conversion ever effected by compul- 
 < sion ? Or what was it worth when effected 1 “A soft 
 ? answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir 
 \ up anger.”] 
 
[JANUARY 30.] 
 
 This is thankworthy, if a man for conscience to- 
 r wards God endure grief, suffering wrongfully. — 1 St . ; 
 j Peter ii. 19. 
 
 < Praise to our pardoning God ! though silent now £ 
 <; 7’he thunders of the deep prophetic sky, j 
 
 ( Though in our sight no powers of darkness bow | 
 ) Before th’ apostles’ glorious company ; 
 
 ) The martyrs’ noble army still is ours : 
 
 Far in the north our fallen days have seen 
 ? How in her wo the tenderest spirit towers, 
 l For Jesus’ sake in agony serene. 
 
 i Praise to our God! not cottage hearths alone. 
 
 \ And shades impervious to the proud world’s 
 s glare, 
 
 \ Such witness yield; a monarch from his throne 
 Springs to his Cross and finds his glory there. 
 
 \ Yes : wheresoe'er one trace of thee is found, 
 
 As in the Sacred Land, the shadows fall ; 
 j With beating hearts we roam the haunted 
 ground, 
 
 Lone battle field, or crumbling prison hall. 
 
 | And there are aching solitary breasts, 
 
 Whose widow’d walk with thought of thee is 
 cheer’d, 
 
 \ Our own, our royal saint ; thy memory rests 
 On many a prayer, the more for thee endear’d. 
 
 * [The anniversary of the beheading of King Charles 
 I„ in 1649, commemorated in the calendar of the 
 t Church of England.] 
 
i 
 
 KING- CHARLES THE MARTYR. 
 
 319 \ 
 
 [ True son of our dear Mother, early taught 
 With her to worship and for her to die, 
 j Nursed in her aisles to more than kingly thought, ^ 
 Oft in her solemn hours we dream thee nigh. 
 
 For thou didst love to trace her daily lore, 
 
 And where we^look for comfort or for calm, 
 
 \ Over the self-same lines to bend, and pour* 
 
 Thy heart with hers in some victorious psalm. 
 
 \ And well did she thy loyal love repay; 
 
 ? When all forsook, her angels still were nigh: 
 
 ( Chain’d and bereft, and on thy funeral way, 
 Straight to the cross she turn’d thy dying eye,f 
 
 > And yearly now, before the Martyrs’ King, 
 
 ! For thee she offers her maternal tears, 
 
 l Calls us, like thee, to His dear feet to cling, 
 
 And bury in his wounds our earthly fears. 
 
 Si.The angels hear, and there is mirth in heaven, 
 
 \ Fit prelude of the joy, when spirits won 
 ^ Like thee to patient faith, shall rise forgiven, 
 
 > And at thejr Saviour’s knees thy bright example i 
 own. 
 
 * [Surely an edition of the “ Icon Basilike” would > 
 
 > well repay the enterprise of publication.] 
 
 > t His Majesty then bade him (Mr. Herbert) withdraw; , 
 
 < for he was about an hour in private with the Bishop £ 
 (Juxon); and being called in, the Bishop went, to > 
 prayer ; and reading also the 27th chapter of the Gos- l 
 pel of St. Matthew, which relateth the passion of our i 
 
 > Blessed Saviour. The King, after the service was > 
 
 < done, asked the Bishop, if he had made choice of that ( 
 ] chapter, being so applicable to his present condition ? ) 
 i The Bishop replied, “ May it please your Gracious £ 
 | Majesty, it is the proper lesson for the day, as appears ? 
 
 by the Calendar which the King was much affected S 
 with, so aptly serving as a seasonable preparation for ( 
 
 > his death that day.— Herbert's Memoirs, p. 131. 
 
► 320 THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. < 
 
 THE RESTORATION OE THE ROYAL 
 FAMILY.* 
 
 [may 20.] 
 
 And Barzillai said unto the king, How long have 1 < 
 to live, that I should go up with the king unto Jeru- 
 salem ? — 2 Sam. xix. 34. 
 
 As when the Paschal week is o’er, 
 
 Sleeps in the silent aisles no more 
 The breath of sacred song, 
 
 But by the rising Saviour's light 
 Awakened soars in airy flight. 
 
 Or deepening rolls along jf 
 
 The while round altar, niche, and shrine, 
 
 The 'funeral evergreens entwine, 
 
 And a dark brilliance cast. 
 
 The brighter for their hues of gloom. 
 
 Tokens of Him, who through the tomb 
 Into high glory pass’d: 
 
 Such were the lights and such the strains, 
 When proudly stream’d o’er ocean plains 
 Our own returning cross; 
 
 For with that triumph seem’d to float 
 Far on the breeze one’ dirge-like note 
 Of orphanhood and loss. 
 
 , * [The anniversary of the Restoration of Charles II. < 
 
 > to the throne, in 1660, commemorated in the Church ; 
 
 l of England.] S 
 
 f The organ is silent in many Churches during Pas- s 
 
 > sion week : and in some it is the custom to put up l 
 
 > evergreen boughs at Easter, as well as at Christmas \ 
 \ time. 
 
”f* THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. 32lT 
 
 Father and King, O where art thou? 
 
 A greener wreath adorns thy brow, 
 And clearer rays surround: 
 
 O for one hour of prayer like thine, 
 
 To plead before th’ all-ruling shrine 
 For Britain lost and found! 
 
 And he,* whose mild persuasive voice 
 Taught us in trials to rejoice 
 Most like a faithful dove, 
 
 That by some ruin’d homestead builds, 
 And pours to the forsaken fields 
 His wonted lay of love: 
 
 , Read Fell’s Life of Hammond, p. 283 — 296, Ox- ? 
 
 > ford, 1806. < 
 
 | [“At the opening of the year 1660, when every thing > 
 
 visibly tended to the reduction of his Sacred Majesty, > 
 
 > and all persons in their several stations began to make / 
 \ way arid prepare for it, the good doctor (Hammond) > 
 
 > was, by the fathers of the Church, desired to repair to ( 
 I London, there to assist in the composure of breaches > 
 ' m the Church : which summons as he resolved unfit £ 
 
 > cither to dispute or disobey, so could he not, without ? 
 
 > much violence to his inclinations, submit unto. But, > 
 
 > finding it his duty, he diverted all the uneasiness of < 
 5 antipathy and aversion into a deliberate preparation of? 
 
 > himself for this new theatre of affairs, on which he s 
 
 > was to enter. Where his first care w*as to fortify his ? 
 \ mind against the usual temptations of business, place > 
 
 > and power. And to this purpose, besides his earnest < 
 \ prayers to God for his assistance and disposal of him > 
 
 > entirely to his glory, and a diligent survey of all bis ( 
 
 > inclinations, and therein those which were his more ? 
 
 ! open and less defensible parts, he farther called in, and s 
 ? solemnly adjured that triend of his, with whom he had l 
 ( the nearest opportunity of commerce, to study and > 
 ? examine the last ten years of his life, and with the jus- < 
 i tice due to a Christian friendship to observe the fail- > 
 j ances of all kinds, and show them to him : which being s 
 
 > accordingly attempted, the product, after a diligent in - 1 
 
 21 
 
*f*322 THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY.*!* 
 
 Why comes he not to bear his part. 
 
 To lift and guide th’ exulting heart ? — 
 A hand that cannot spare 
 Lies heavy on his gentle breast: 
 
 We wish him health ; he sighs for rest. 
 And Heaven accepts the prayer. 
 
 S quest, only proving the representation of such defects ) 
 ^ which might have passed for virtue in another person : > 
 ) his next prospect was abroad, what several ways he £ 
 < might do good unto the public: and knowing that the £ 
 ; diocess of Worcester was, by the favour of his ma - } 
 
 I < jesty, designed his charge, he thought of several op- < 
 portunities of charity unto that place, and, among ? 
 others, particularly cast in his mind for the repair of > 
 the cathedral church, and laid the foundation of a con- £ 
 siderable advance unto that work. Which early care > 
 is here mentioned as an instance of his inflamed desire < 
 of doing good, and singular zeal to the house of God, > 
 and the restoring of a decent worship in a like decent $ 
 place : for otherwise it was far from his custom to look \ 
 forward into future events, but still to attend and > 
 follow after Providence, and let every day bear its own ( 
 evil. And mnv, considering that the nation was under ? 
 its great crisis and most hopeful method of its cure, $ 
 which yet, if palliate and imperfect, would only make £ 
 way to more fatal sickness, he fell to his devotions on ) 
 that behalf, and made those two excellent prayers,* 
 which were published immediately after his death, as 
 they had been made immediately before his sickness, \ 
 and were almost the very last thing he wrote. 
 
 * [See Works, vol. i, 727. The following is submitted as ! 
 specimen, from the former of ihem. 
 
 “O blessed Lord, who in thine infinite mercy didst vouchsafe £ 
 to plant a glorious Church among us, and now in thy just judg- < 
 ment hast permitted our sins and follies to root it up, he pleased > 
 at last to resume thoughts of peace towards us, that we may do ( 
 the like to one another. Lord, look down from heaven, the habi- > 
 tation of thy holiness, and behold the ruins of a desolated Church, ( 
 and compassionate to see her in the dust. Behold her, O Lord, > 
 not only broken, but crumbled, divided into so many sects and : 
 factions, that she no longer represents the Ark of the God on 
 
j THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. 323 l 
 
 Yes, go in peace, dear placid sprite, 
 
 111 spared ; but would we store aright 
 Thy serious, sweet farewell. 
 
 We need not grudge thee to the skies, 
 Sure after thee in time to rise, 
 
 With thee for ever dwell. 
 
 \ “ Being in this state of mind, fully prepared for that > 
 
 X new course of life, which had nothing to recommend it £ 
 5 to his taste but its unpleasantness, (the best allective \ 
 
 < unto him,) he expected hourly the peremptory mandate / 
 X which was to call him forth of his beloved retirements. £ 
 i Israel, where the covenant and the manna were conserved, but £ 
 ( the Ark of Noah, filled with all various sorts of unclean beasts : > 
 ( and. to complete our misery and guilt, the spirit of division hath £ 
 
 > insinuated itself as well into our affections as our judgments: that > 
 / badge of discipleship which thou recommendedst to us is cast off, $ 
 
 < and all the contrary wrath and bitterness, anger and clamour, > 
 } called in to maintain and widen our breaches. 0 Lord, how long j 
 
 < shall we thus violate and defame that gospel of peace that we > 
 (j profess? How long shall we thus madly defeat ourselves, and > 
 r lose that Christianity which we pretend to strive for? O thou > 
 ; which makest men to be of one mind in a house, be pleased so to £ 
 ( unite us, that we may be perfectly joined together in the same / 
 ) mind, and in the same judgment. And now that in civil affairs ? 
 
 > there seems some aptness to a composure, 0 let not our spiritual > 
 ; differences be more unreconcilable. Lord, let not the roughest ' 
 X winds blow out of the sanctuary : let not those which should be f 
 / thy ambassadors for peace still sound a trumpet for war : but do \ 
 ( thou still reveal thyself to all our Elijahs in that still small voice > 
 ; which may teach them to echo thee in the like meek treatings ' 
 
 < with others. Lord, let no unseasonable stiffness of those that are ■ 
 ; in the right, no perverse obstinacy of those that are in the wrong, ’ 
 X hinder the closing of our wounds; but let the one instruct in ; 
 j meekness, and be thou pleased to give the other repentance to the ' 
 
 < acknowledgment of the truth. To this end, do thou, 0 Lord, ; 
 ) mollify all exasperated minds, take off all animosities and preju* ; 
 l dices, contempt and heart-burnings, and, by uniting their hearts, , 
 ) prepare for the reconciling their opinions. And that nothing may ' 
 
 < intercept the clear sight of thy truth, Lord, let all private and / 
 ) secular designs be totally deposited, that gain may no longer be ■ 
 
 < the measure of our godliness, but the one great and common con- / 
 $ cernment of truth and peace may be unanimously and vigorously > 
 { pursued, &c.”j 
 

 j 324 THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. \ 
 
 Till then, whene’er with duteous hand 
 Year after year, my native land 
 Her royal offering brings, 
 
 Upon the altar lays the crown, 
 
 And spreads her robes of old renown 
 Before the King of kings, 
 
 i “ But in the instant, a more importunate, though in- 
 { finitely more welcome summons engaged him on his < 
 
 < last journey : for, on the 4th of April, he was seized \ 
 ; with a sharp fit of the stone, with those symptoms that 4 
 ( are usual in such cases ; which yet, upon the voidance < 
 / of a stone, ceased for that time. However, on the 8th 5 
 
 < of the same month, it returned again with greater ] 
 
 < violence : and though after two days the pain de- J 
 ; creased, the suppression of urine yet continued, with \ 
 
 < frequent vomitings, and a distention of the whole body, < 
 \ and likewise shortness of breath, upon any little mo- i 
 ) tion. When, as if he had, by some instinct, a certain < 
 , knowledge of the issue of his sickness, he almost, at ) 
 | its first approach, conceived himself in hazard : and { 
 
 < whereas at other times, when he saw his friends about < 
 / him fearful, he was used to reply cheerfully, ‘ that he 1 
 
 < was not dying yet ;’ now in the whole current of his < 
 i disease, he never said any thing to avert, suspicion, hut < 
 [ addressed unto its cure, telling his friends with whom < 
 
 < he was, ‘ that he should leave them in God’s hands, t 
 } who could supply abundantly all the assistance they 5 
 
 < could either expect or desire from him, and who wmuld < 
 £ so provide, that they should not find his removal any 5 
 l loss.’ And when he observed one of them with some s 
 c earnestness pray for his health and continuance, he l 
 J with tender passion replied, ‘ 1 observe your zeal spends 5 
 - itself all in that one petition for my recovery ; in the < 
 l interim you have no care of me in my greatest interest, , 
 
 w hich is, that I may be perfectly fitted for my change 1 
 } when God shall call me : I pray let some of your fer- i 
 } vour be employed that way.’ And being pressed to \ 
 make it his own request to God to be continued longer < 
 ) in the world, to the service of the Church, he imme- ; 
 diately began a solemn prayer, which contained, first, j 
 a very humble and melting acknowledgment of sin, and ? 
 
THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. 325 j 
 
 Be some kind spirit, likest thine, 
 
 Ever at hand, with airs divine 
 
 The wandering heart to seize; 
 Whispering, “ How long hast thou to live, 
 That thou shouldst hope or fancy give 
 To flowers or crowns like these?” 
 
 a most earnest intercession for mercy and forgiveness 
 through the merits of his Saviour: next, resigning 
 himself entirely into his Maker’s hands, he begged that 
 if the divine wisdom intended him for death, he might 
 have a due preparation for it; but if his life might be 
 in any degree useful to the Church, even to one single 
 soul, he then besought Almighty God to continue him, 
 and by his grace to enable him to employ that life he 
 so vouchsafed, industriously and successfully. After 
 this' he did with great affection intercede for this 
 Church and nation, and with particular vigour and 
 enforcement prayed for sincere performance of Chris- 
 tian duty, now so much decayed, to the equal sup- 
 planting and scandal of that holy calling ; that those 
 who professed that faith might live according to the 
 rules of it, and to the form of godliness, superadd the 
 
 E ower. This, with some repetitions, and more tears, 
 e pursued, and at last, closed all in a prayer for the 
 several concerns of the family where he was. With 
 i this he frequently blessed God for so far indulging to 
 ; his infirmity, as to make his disease so painless to him ; 
 i withal to send it to him before he took his journey, 
 ! whereas it might have taken him in the way or at his 
 ' inn, with far greater disadvantages .” — Bishop Fell's 
 ! Life of Dr. Hammond , in Wordsworth' s Ecclesias- 
 » tical Biography , vol. v. p. 428.] 
 
THE ACCESSION. 
 
 326 
 
 THE ACCESSION.* 
 
 As I was with Moses, so will I be with thee : I will \ 
 never leave thee, nor forsake thee , — Joshua i. 5. 
 
 The voice that from the glory came 
 To tell how Moses died unseen, 
 
 And waken Joshua’s spear of flame 
 To victory on the mountains green, 
 
 Its trumpet tones are sounding still, 
 
 When kings or parents pass away, 
 
 They greet us with a cheering thrill 
 Of power and comfort in decay. 
 
 Behind the soft bright summer cloud 
 That makes such haste to melt and die, 
 
 Our wistful gaze is oft allow’d 
 A glimpse "of the unchanging sky: 
 
 Let storm and darkness do their worst; 
 
 For the lost dream the heart may ache, 
 
 The heart may ache, but may not burst; 
 Heaven will not leave thee nor forsake. 
 
 One rock amid the weltering floods. 
 
 One torch in a tempestuous night, 
 
 One changeless pine in fading woods;— 
 
 Such is the thought of Love and Might, 
 True Might and ever-present Love, 
 
 When Death is busy near the throne, 
 
 And Sorrow her keen sting would prove 
 On monarchs orphan’d and alone. 
 
 / * [The anniversary of the day on which the reigning $ 
 
 $ king comes to the throne.] j 
 
THE ACCESSION. 327 J 
 
 In that lorn hour and desolate, 
 
 Who could endure a crown ? but 
 
 Who singly bore the world’s sad weight, 
 
 Is near, to whisper, “lean on me; 
 
 Thy days of toil, thy nights of care, 
 
 Sad lonely dreams in crowded hall, 
 
 Darkness within, while pageants glare 
 Around— the cross supports them all.” 
 
 O promise of undying love! 
 
 While mon a rchs seek thee for repose. 
 
 Far in the nameless mountain cove 
 Each pastoral heart thy bounties knows. 
 
 Ye, who in place of shepherds true 
 Come trembling to their awful trust, 
 
 Lo here the fountain to imbue 
 With strength and hope your feeble dust. 
 
 Not upon kings or priests alone 
 The power of that dear word is spent; 
 
 It chants to all in softest tone 
 The lowly lesson of content ; 
 
 Heaven’s light is poured on high and low; 
 
 To high and low Heaven’s Angel spake ; 
 
 “ Resign thee to thy weal or wo, 
 
 I ne’er will leave thee nor forsake.” 
 

 ; 328 ORDINATION. 
 
 ORDINATION. 
 
 After this, the Congregation shall be desired secret- 
 J ly in their prayers to make their humble supplications 
 ! to God for all these things ; for the which prayers 
 ! there shall be silence kept for a space. 
 
 > After which shall be sung or said by the Bishop (the 
 persons to be ordained Priests all kneeling,) “ Veni 
 Creator Spiritus .” — Rubric in the Office for Ordering 
 
 [ of Priests. 
 
 ’Twas silence in thy temple, Lord, 
 
 When slowly through the hallow’d air 
 ! The spreading cloud of incense soar’d, 
 
 Charged with the breath of Israel’s prayer. 
 
 ’Twas silence round thy throne on high. 
 
 When the last wondrous seal unclosed,* 
 
 I And in the portals of the sky 
 Thine armies awfully reposed. 
 
 ! And this deep pause, that o’er us now 
 Is hovering, comes it not of Thee? 
 
 I Is it not like a mother’s vow. 
 
 When with her darling on her knee, 
 
 > She weighs and numbers o’er and o’er 
 
 Love’s treasure hid in her fond breast, 
 
 \ To cull from that exhaustless store 
 The dearest blessing and the best? 
 
 ! And where shall mother’s bosom find, 
 
 With all its deep love-learned skill, 
 
 , * Rev. viii. 1. When he had opened the seventh s 
 
 > seal, there was silence in heaven for the space of half $ 
 ' an hour. 
 
ORDINATION. 329 l 
 
 A prayer so sweetly to her mind. 
 
 As, in this sacred hour and still, 
 
 Is wafted from the white-robed choir, 
 
 Ere yet the pure high-breathed lay, 
 
 “ Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,” 
 
 Rise floating on its dove-like way. 
 
 And when it comes, so deep and clear 
 The strain, so soft the melting fall, 
 
 It seems not to th’ entranced ear 
 Less than thine own heart-cheering call, 
 
 Spirit of Christ — thine earnest given 
 That these our prayers are heard, and they,* 
 
 Who grasp, this hour, the sword of Heaven, 
 
 Shall feel thee on their weary way. 
 
 Oft as at morn or soothing eve 
 Over the holy fount they lean, 
 
 Their fading garland freshly weave, 
 
 Or fan them with thine airs serene. 
 
 I Spirit of Light and Truth! to Thee 
 \ We trust them in that musing hour. * 
 
 \ Till they, with open heart and free, 
 
 Teach all Thy word in all its power. 
 
 * [It were much to be desired, that the prayers “for > 
 £ those to be admitted into Holy Orders,” which are ) 
 £ included among the occasional prayers which follow ' 
 
 < immediately after the Litany, should be used as often / 
 ? as may be, previously to every ordination. The effect ) 
 S could not but be favourable, not only on the candidate ? 
 
 < for whom, but on the congregation by whom, they are > 
 > used.] 
 
'! 330 
 
 ORDINATION. 
 
 1 When foemen watch their tents by night, 
 And mists hang wide o’er moor and fell, 
 ; Spi ri t of Counsel and of Might, 
 
 Their pastoral warfare guide Thou well. 
 
 ! Anri oh ! when worn and tired they sigh 
 ; With that more fearful war within, 
 
 ; When Passion’s storms are loud and high, 
 And brooding o’er remember’d sin 
 
 ! The heart lies down*— O mightiest then, 
 
 ; Come ever true, come ever near, 
 
 *[the ordinal. 
 
 Alas for me if I forget 
 The memory of that day 
 Which fills my waking thoughts, nor yet 
 E’en sleep can take away ! 
 
 In dreams l still renew the rites 
 Whose strong but mystic chain 
 The spirit to its God unites, 
 
 And none can part again. 
 
 How oft the Bishop’s form I see, 
 
 And hear that thrilling tone 
 Demanding with authority 
 The heart for God alone ; 
 
 Again I kneel as then 1 knelt. 
 
 While he above me stands. 
 
 And seem to feel as then I felt 
 The pressure of his hands. 
 
 Again the priests in meet array, 
 
 As my weak spirit fails, 
 
 Beside me bend them down to pray 
 Before the chancel rails ; 
 
 As then, the sacramental host 
 Of God’s elect are by. 
 
 When many a voice its utterance lost 
 And tears dimmed many an eye. 
 
ORDINATION. 
 
 And wake their slumbering love again, 
 Spirit of God’s most holy fear ! 
 
 331 : 
 
 As then they on my vision rose, 
 
 The vaulted aisles I see, 
 
 And desk and cushion’d book repose 
 In solemn sanctity,— 
 
 The mitre o’er the marble niche, 
 
 The broken crook and key, 
 
 That from a Bishop’s tomb shone rich 
 With polish’d tracery ; 
 
 The hangings, the baptismal font, 
 
 All, all, save me, unchanged, 
 
 The holy table, as was wont, 
 
 With decency arranged ; 
 
 The linen cloth, the plate, the cup, 
 Beneath their covering shine, 
 
 Ere priestly hands are lifted up 
 To bless the bread and wine. 
 
 The solemn ceremonial past, 
 
 And 1 am set apart 
 To serve the Lord, from first to last, 
 
 With undivided heart: 
 
 And I have sworn, with pledges dire 
 Which God and man have heard, 
 
 To speak the holy truth entire 
 In action and in word. 
 
 O Thou who in thy holy place 
 Hast set thine orders three. 
 
 Grant me, thy meanest servant, grace 
 To win a good degree : 
 
 That so replenish’d from above 
 And in my office tried. 
 
 Thou may’st be honour’d, and in love 
 Thy Church be edified ! 
 
 Rev. William Croswell .] 
 
 THE END. 
 
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