FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D.
BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO
THE LIBRARY OF
PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY
U^.fkfbxt^Y*-
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HYMNS OF THE AGES.
Uniform with this Volume.
HYMNS OF THE AGES.
SECOND SERIES.
Being Selections from Wither, Crafhaw, Southwell, Habing- ton, and other Sources. One volume, 121110. Price $ 1.25.
Fine editions of this Work, the Firft and Second Series, printed upon large paper, and bound in bevelled boards. Price $3.00 each volume.
TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2012 with funding from
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http://archive.org/details/agesfirstOOwhit
HYMNS OF THE AGES
BEING
SELECTIONS FROM LYRA CATHOLIC A, GERMANIC A APOSTOLICA, AND OTHER SOURCES.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION By REV. F. D. HUNTINGTON, D. D.
FIRST SERIES.
Caroline. S. Whitmcn
BOSTON: TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
M DCCC LXI.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858,
By Phillips, Sampson, and Company,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE :
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY
PREFACE.
IT has been our purpose in compiling this vol- ume, to bring together, irrespective of creed and in a convenient form, some of the best sacred poetry, such as contains quiet thoughts for quiet hours, — devotional, comforting, peaceful.
We have therefore in several instances omitted hymns which deservedly rank among the best, and in those from the Lyra Catholica have made a few slight alterations.
Preferring the older hymns as less known, and richer in association, we have not limited ourselves to these : whatever seemed to belong in the book we have placed here, not carelessly, yet caring little for its outward source. If it be true that all along the ages and amid all varying phases of belief, the
vi Preface.
human heart is the same, and if this in the hymns before us, has chanted its yearnings, and doubts, and comforts, and heavenward hopes, in the one great temple whose roof overarches all our creeds, need we ask whether the strain first stole from desk or aisle, from monkish crypt or kingly chapel, from the soul of a heart-broken sinner, or canonized saint ?
The heart of humanity in its highest, deepest moods has spoken here, still speaks ; and the Divine heart has listened, listens still as we believe, to these tender and glorious songs. . ,
A. E. G. July, 1858.
r f/**^ rf.1&~Jr- lyK
PREFACE
TO THE LYRA CATHOLICA.
COMPETENT and willing hands have been found to do the grateful work of making these selections of rare and beautiful poetry. Most of the pieces, not all, are culled from the rich and hallowed minstrelsy of the Catholic Communion, — the time being quite come when Christians who would be truly catholic, cannot afford to lose the nourishment and consolation for the inward life, which any branch of Christ's Body supplies. To most Protestants these pieces will be new. By a few, some of them will be greeted as acquaintances already familiar and endeared, the companions of many sacred hours. The present writer's office is merely to pass on to the public what the taste and veneration of two friends have made ready. With-
viii Preface to the Lyra Catholica.
out undertaking to commend these noble and grace- tul productions, he would only invite the inquiry whether the elements and influences united in them. are not precisely such as the religious culture of our time and region needs ; whether the nameless quali- ty of genuine sacred poetry is not in them, in a re- markable measure ; whether the energy and fire of original genius are not finely blended with the sim- plicity of a quiet heart and a deep spirituality ; whether the facts, the materials, the symbols, the persons, all the outward forms and events through which the Eternal Word is revealed, are not here so delicately and vigorously touched as to render them powerful attractions to a holy life ; and wheth- er devotion is not likely to grow ardent and firm where the inmost soul of man is so humbly thrown open, as here, to the personal approaches of his Maker and Redeemer.
It may be interesting to those readers who are first introduced to the treasures of devout poetry in the Old Church by this volume, to know that the Lyra Catholica most in use in this country is a re-
Preface to the Lyra Catholic*, ix
publication and enlargement of an English collec- tion, of the same name, compiled and translated by Edward Caswall in 1849, — extracts from whose preface are given below. The American work is published by Edward Dunigan and brother, of New York, whose kindness and courtesy in allowing the present abridgment are cordially acknowledged. It includes three parts : 1. The Hymns of the Roman Breviary and Missal, with others adapted to the an- nual Festivals of the Church; 2. Hymns, Anthems, and Holy Lyrics, appropriate to particular occa- sions of devotion; 3. Sacred Poems less intimately related to ecclesiastical services, selected from both Catholic and Protestant writers.
From the whole vast range of Christian thought, experience, and imagination, therefore, — from the fresh melodies lifted in the morning air of the Christian ages,- — from that long line of consecrated and aspiring singers reaching back to the days of Constantine, — from among the lofty strains of Am- brose and Jerome and their strong fellows-believers, where the sanctity of centuries is so wrought, like "an invisible aroma, into the verv substance and
Preface to the Lyra Catholica.
structure of the verses, that it would seem as if some prophetic sense* of their immortality had breathed in the men that wrote them, — from the secret cells and the high cathedrals of the Continen- tal worship, where scholarship, and art, and power joined with piety to raise the Lauds and Glorias, the Matins and Vespers, the Sequences and the Choral Harmonies of a gorgeously appointed Praise, — from the purer literature of Old England, embracing the tender and earnest numbers of South- well, and Crashaw, and Habington, and a multitude better known besides, — these voices of Faith are reverently gathered into their perfect harmony.
The volume is offered to the thoughtful portion of our community, with a cheerful confidence that it will fulfil an elevating, purifying, comforting ministry in many hearts, closets, and homes. Nor will its worth fail to be the more cordially con- fessed in many quarters, because so much in it favors the general tendency to recognize the observ- ances and associations of the Christian Year.
Cambridge, June 1858. F. D. H.
EXTRACTS
From the Preface of Edward Caswall, M. A., to his Lyra Catholic a.
It has been the object to exhibit for the firft time in an Englifh form, the entire series of those divine Hymns, which, in their Latin originals, have through ages been, and ftill continue to be, to countless saintly souls, the joy and consolation of their earthly pilgrimage.
" The present contribution to the exifting ftore of Cath- olic vernacular Hymns, confifts of three portions. The firft, and by far the largeft portion, comprehends all the Hymns in the Roman Breviary, including those in the Of- ficia Sanctorum Angliae \ the second portion comprises the Hymns and Sequences of the Roman MifTal ; and the third confifts of Hymns from various sources. Of these latter it may be observed, that the Hymns on the Nativity, Annunciation, and Vifitation, of our BlefTed Lady, as also those to St. Anne, St. Stephen, and St. John the Evange- lift, are from the Monadic Breviary of Cluny ; those on the Purification and the AfTumption, the Hymn to Jesus, and that for Sunday Morning, from the Parifian Breviary ; and those to St. Joseph, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. Pius the Fifth, from the Raccolta delle Indulgenze.
" As respects the Hymns in general, it may be useful to remark, that the greater number of them appear to have been originally written, not with a view to private
xii Preface.
reading, but for the purpose of being sung to the beautiful ecclefiaftical melodies by Monaftic and other Religious Bodies at their Office in Choir. This circumftance will serve to explain a few scattered expreffions, which other- wise might seem unreal ; as, for inftance, where allufions occur to the practice of rifing at midnight to fing praises to God ; — and if, on the one hand, some few of the Hymns may so far appear less adapted to the use of per- sons living in the world, it is our gain surely, on the other hand, thus, by occafional glimpses, to be reminded of that more perfect life, which has never ceased to be a reality in the Catholic Church.
" Another advantage, which we owe, doubtless, in a measure, to the same circumftance — an advantage not to be despised in a sentimental age — is the exceedingly plain and practical character of these Hymns. Written with a view to conftant daily use, they aim at something more than merely exciting the feelings. They have a perpetual reference to action. Their character is eminently objec- tive. Their tendency is, to take the individual out of himself; to set before him, in turn, all the varied and sub- lime Objects of Faith ; and to blend him with the uni- versal family of the Faithful.
" And here, although the Tranflator may seem to be pleading his own cause, yet he cannot refrain from observ- ing, that truly poetical as are many of these Hymns, as in- deed well befits the sacred outpourings of Chrift's tender Spouse, ftill, as a whole, the devotional is their primary and leaft disappointing aspect. Whoever attempts to read them as mere poetry, will obtain from them little of that
Prefc
rerace.
xiu
delight which they are capable of inspiring. And as this is true of the original Latin, so it is truer ftill of the Hymns as they appear in the present tranflation ; in which, it is to be feared, the unadorned fimplicity of the prototype has too often degenerated into plainness ; while its beauties have been faintly reflected, and their clear edge blunted in patting through a too earthly medium. "
CONTENTS.
PAGE
LYRA CATHOLICA
MATINS 3
VESPERS 19
ASPIRATION 23
SELF-CONSECRATION 29
TRUST 39
PRAYER 0 5°
ENCOURAGEMENT 56
SELF-EXAMINATION 6 1
CHRIST 73
SAINTS, MARTYRS, &C I OO
COMMUNION SERVICE 1 1 6
DEDICATION OF A CHURCH 119
MISCELLANEOUS 122
LYRA GERMANICA 137
LYRA APOSTOLICA 179
LYRA INNOCENTIUM 193
MISCELLANEOUS 215
LYRA CATHOLICA.
LYRA CATHOLICA.
MATINS.
O BLEST Creator of the light! Who doft the dawn from darkness bring ; And framing Nature's depth and height, Didft with the new-born light begin ;
Who gently blending eve with morn,
And morn with eve, didft call them day : —
Thick flows the flood of darkness down ; Oh, hear us as we weep and pray !
Keep thou our souls from schemes of crime ;
Nor guilt remorseful let them know ; Nor, thinking but on things of time,
Into eternal darkness go.
Teach us to knock at Heaven's high door ;
Teach us the prize of life to win ; Teach us all evil to abhor,
And purify ourselves within.
Breviary.
Matins.
VTOW doth the sun ascend the fky, *• ^ And wake creation with its ray ; Keep us from fin, O Lord moft high ! Through all the actions of the day.
Curb Thou for us th' unruly tongue ;
Teach us the way of peace to prize ; And close our eyes againft the throng
Of earth's absorbing vanities.
Oh, may our hearts be pure within !
No cherifh'd madness vex the soul ! May abftinence the flefh reftrain,
And its rebellious pride control.
So when the evening ftars appear,
And in their train the darkness bring ;
May we, O Lord, with conscience clear, Our praise to thy pure glory fing.
Breviary.
<^£2>
Matins.
OUR limbs with tranquil fleep refrefh'd Lightly from bed we spring ; Father supreme! to us be nigh While to thy praise we sing.
Thy love be firft in every heart
Thy name on every tongue ; Whatever we this day may do,
May it in Thee be done.
Soon will the morning ftar arise,
And chase the dufk away ; Whatever guilt has come with night,
May it depart with day.
Cut off in us, Almighty Lord,
All that mav lead to fhame ; So with pure hearts may we in bliss
Thine endless praise proclaim.
Breviary.
Matins.
GREAT Framer of the earth and fky, Who doft the light and darkness give ! And all the cheerful change supply Of alternating morn and eve!
Light of the midnight traveller !
Who doft divide the day from night! — Loud crows the dawn's fhrill harbinger,
And wakens up the sunbeams bright.
Forthwith at this, the darkness chill Retreats before the ftar of morn ;
And from their busy schemes of ill, The vagrant crews of night return.
Frefh hope, at this, the sailor cheers ;
The waves their ftormy ftrife allay ; The Church's Rock at this, in tears,
Haftens to warn his guilt away.
Arise ye, then, with one accord !
Nor longer wrapt in flumber lie ; The cock rebukes all who their Lord
By floth neglecl:, by fin deny.
Matins.
At his clear cry joy springs afrefh ;
Health courses through the sick man's veins The dagger glides into its fheath ;
The fallen soul her faith regains.
&~
Jesu ! look on us when we fall ; —
One momentary glance of thine Can from her guilt the soul recall
To tears of penitence divine.
Awake us from false fleep profound, And through our senses pour thy light ;
Be thy bleft name the firft we sound At early dawn, the laft at night.
Breviary.
Math
COME, Holy Ghoft, and through each heart In thy full flood of glory pour ; Who, with the Son and Father, art One Godhead bleft for evermore.
So mail voice, mind, and ftrength conspire
Thy praise eternal to resound ; So mail our hearts be set on fire,
And kindle every heart around.
Father of mercies ! hear our cry ;
Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! Who, with the Holy Ghoft moft high,
Reigneft while endless ages run.
Breviary.
LORD of eternal truth and might ! Ruler of nature's changing scheme ! Who doft bring forth the morning light, And temper noon's effulgent beam :
Quench Thou in us the flames of ftrife, And bid the heat of passion cease ;
From perils guard our feeble life,
And keep our souls in perfect peace.
Breviary.
Matins.
Return Deus tenax vigor.
OTHOU true life of all that live! Who doft, unmoved, all motion sway ; Who doft the morn and evening give, And through its changes guide the day :
Thy light upon our evening pour, —
So may our souls no sunset see ; But death to us an open door
To an eternal morning be.
Father of mercies ! hear our cry ;
Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! Who, with the Holy Ghoft moft high,
Reigneft while endless ages run.
Breviary.
LET us arise and watch ere dawn of light, And to the Lord our hearts and voices raise ; And meditate in psalms, and all unite In holy hymns of praise.
So joining in the ftrains of saints on high Hereafter, in the courts of heaven's great King, May we be meet his praise eternallv With them in bliss to sing.
Breviary.
10 Matins.
OTHOU the Father's Image bleft ! Who calleft forth the morning ray ; O Thou eternal Light of light ! And inexhauftive Fount of day !
True Sun ! upon our souls arise,
Shining in beauty evermore ; And through each sense the quick'ning beam
Of the eternal Spirit pour.
Thee too, O Father, we entreat, Father of might and grace divine !
Father of glorious majefty !
Thy pitying eye on us incline.
Confirm us in each good resolve ;
The Tempter's envious rage subdue ; Turn each misfortune to our good j
Direcl: us right in all we do.
Rule Thou our inmofl thoughts j let no
Impurity our hearts defile ; Grant us a true and fervent faith ;
Grant us a spirit free from guile.
May Chrift himself be our true Food, And Faith our daily cup supply ;
Matins. 1 1
While from the Spirit's tranquil depth We drink unfailing draughts of joy.
Still ever with the peep of morn
May saintly modefty attend ; ' Faith sanctify the midday hours ;
Upon the soul no night descend.
Faft breaks the dawn. — Each whole in Each, Come, Father bleft ! Come, Son moft high !
Shine in our souls, and be to them The dawn of immortality.
Breviary.
LO, fainter now lie spread the shades of night, And upward moot the trembling gleams of morn ; Suppliant we bend before the Lord of Light, And pray at early dawn, —
That his sweet chanty may all our fin Forgive, and make our miseries to cease ; May grant us health, grant us the gift divine Of everlafting peace.
Breviary.
12 Mat
ins.
THE CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL AT SUNRISE.
SOIL not thy plumage, gentle dove, With sublunary things, — Till in the fount of light and love, Thou malt have bathed thy wings.
Shall Nature from her couch arise,
And rise for thee in vain ? While heaven, and earth, and seas, and fkies,
Such types of truth contain.
See — where the Sun of Righteousness,
Unfolds the gates of day : Go, — meet Him in his glorious dress,
And quaff the orient ray!.
There, where ten thousand seraphs fland,
To crown the circling hours, — Soar thou, — and from that blifsful land
Bring down unfading flowers :
Some Rose of Sharon, dyed in blood,
Some spice of Gilead's balm, Some lily warned in Calvary's flood,
Some branch of heavenly palm !
And let the drops of sparkling dew, From Siloa's spring be fhed,
Matins. 13
To form a fragrance frefh and new, A halo round thy head.
Spread then thy plumes of faith and prayer,
Nor fear to wend away ; And let a glow of heavenly air,
Gild every earthly day !
Brydges.
Cons or s pnterni luminis.
PURE Light of light! eternal Day! Who doft the Father's brightness fhare ; Our chant the midnight silence breaks ; — Be nigh, and hearken to our prayer.
Scatter the darkness of our minds, And turn the hofts of hell to flight ;
Let not our souls in floth repose, And fleeping fink in endless night.
O Chrift ! for thy dear mercy's sake, Spare us, who put our truft in Thee ;
Nor let our hymns ascend in vain To thy immortal Majesty.
Breviary.
14 Matins.
NOW, while the herald bird of day Proclaims the morning bright ; Chrift also, speaking in the soul, Wakes her to life and light.
"Take up your beds," we hear Him say,
" No more in flumber lie ; In juftice, truth, and temperance,
Keep watch ; — Your Lord is nigh."
O Chrift ! and art Thou nigh indeed ? —
Then let us watch and weep ; This truth but once in earneft felt
Forbids the heart to fleep.
Break, Lord, the spell that wraps us round
In deadly bonds of night ; Shatter the chains of former guilt j
Renew in us thy light.
Breviary.
Matins. 15
Nox et tenebrce et nubila.
YE mift and darkness, cloud and ftorm, Confused creations of the night ; Light enters — morning ftreaks the fky —
Chrift- comes, — 'tis time ye take your flight.
Pierced by the sun's ethereal dart,
Night's gloomy mass is cleft in twain;
And, in the smiling face of day, Nature resumes her tints again.
O God, we know no sun but Thee !
Shine in our souls divinely bright ! We seek Thee in simplicity;
Through all our senses shed thy light.
A thousand objects all around
In false delufive colors fhine ; To purge them clear, we ask, O Lord,
But one immortal beam of thine.
Breviary.
1 6 Mat
ins.
Lux ecce surgit aurea.
NOW with the rifing golden dawn, Let us, the children of the day, Caff off the darkness which so long Has led our guilty souls aftray.
Oh, may the morn so pure, so clear, Its own sweet calm in us inftil ;
A guileless mind, a heart fincere, Simplicity of word and will :
And ever, as the day glides bv, May we the busy senses rein ;
Keep guard upon the hand and eye, Nor let the body suffer ftain.
For all day long, on Heaven's high tower, There ffands a Sentinel, who spies
Our every action, hour by hour, From early dawn till daylight dies.
Breviary
®§$§S§ks
Matins. 17
GRANT us a body pure within ; A wakeful heart, a ready will; Grant us, by no deep cherinVd fin, The fervor of the soul to chill.
Fill Thou our souls, Redeemer true !
With thy moil pure celeftial ray; So may we walk in safety through
All the temptations of this day.
Breviary.
UPON our fainting souls diflil The grace of thy celeftial dew ; Let no fresh snare to fin beguile, No former fin revive anew.
Grant us the grace, for love of Thee,
To scorn all vanities below ; Faith to detecT: each falfity ;
And knowledge, Thee alone to know.
Breviary.
Matins.
THE ftar that heralds in the morn Is fading in the fkies; The darkness melts ; — O Thou true Light ! Upon our souls arise.
Steep all our senses in' thy beam ;
The world's false night expel ; Purge each defilement from the soul,
And in our bosoms dwell.
Come, early Faith I fix in our hearts
Thy root immovably ; Come, smiling Hope ! and, laft not leaft,
Immortal Charity !
Breviary.
Vespers. 19
VESPERS.
CHRISTMAS VESPER HYMN.
DEPART awhile, each thought of care, Be earthly things forgotten all 5 And speak, my soul, thy vesper prayer ;
Obedient to that sacred call. For hark ! the pealing chorus swells ;
Devotion chants the hymn of praise, And now of joy and hope it tells, Till fainting on the ear, it says — Gloria tibi Domine, Domine, Domine.
Thine, wondrous babe of Galilee !
Fond theme of David's harp and song, Thine are the notes of minftrelsy —
To thee its ransom'd chords belong. And hark! again the chorus swells,
The song is wafted on the breeze, And to the liftening earth it tells-r—
In accents soft and sweet as these — Gloria tibi Domine.
20 Vespers.
My heart doth feel that frill He's near,
To meet the soul in hours like this, Else — why, O why, that falling tear !
When all is peace and love and bliss ! But hark ! that pealing chorus swells
Anew, its thrilling vesper ftrain, And frill of joy and hope it tells,
And bids creation fing again — Gloria tibi Domine.
J. Hughes.
COME, O Creator Spirit bleft ! And in our souls take up thy reft ; Come, with thy grace and heavenly aid, To fill the hearts which Thou haft made.
Kindle our senses from above, And make our hearts o'erflow with love j With patience firm, and virtue high, The weakness of our flefh supply.
Far from us drive the foe we dread, And grant us thy true peace inftead j So fhall we not, with Thee for guide, Turn from the path of life afide.
Breviary.
Vespers. 2 1
THE pall of night o'erfhades the earth, And hides the tints of day ; — O Thou ! to whom no night comes near, Dread Judge ! to Thee we pray !
That Thou wilt all our guilt remove,
And our loft peace reftore ; And of thy mercy grant that we
May grieve thy heart no more.
The guilty soul, which all too long
In lethargy hath lain, Yearns to caft off her load, and seek
Her Saviour's face again.
Expel from her the darkness, Lord,
Of her internal night ; Renew her bliss, — renew in her
Thy beatific light.
Breviary.
22 Vespers.
ORD of eternal purity ! ■*-^ Who doft the world with light adorn, And paint the tracts of azure iky With lovely hues of eve and morn :
Who didft command the sun to light
His fiery wheel's effulgent blaze ; Didft set the moon her circuit bright ;
The ftars their ever-winding maze :
That, each within its order'd sphere, They might divide the night from day ;
And of the seasons through the year, The well remember'd signs display :
Scatter our night, eternal God,
And kindle thy pure beam within ;
Free us from guilt's oppreffive load, And break the deadly bonds of fin.
Breviary.
THEE in the hymns of morn we praise ; To Thee our voice at eve we raise ; Oh, grant us, with thy Saints on high, Thee through all time to glorify.
Breviary.
Aspiration, 23
ASPIRATION.
PERFECTION.
OHOW the thought of God attra&s And draws the heart from earth, And fickens it of paffing mows And diflipating mirth !
'Tis not enough to save our souls,
To shun the eternal fires ; The thought of God will rouse the heart
To more sublime defires.
God only is the creature's home, Though long and rough the road;
Yet nothing less can satisfy The love that longs for God.
O utter but the Name of God Down in your heart of hearts,
And see how from the world at once All tempting light departs.
24 Aspiration.
A trufting heart, a yearning eye,
Can win their way above ; If mountains can be moved by faith,
Is there less power in love ?
How little of that road, my soul !
How little haft thou gone ! Take heart, and let the thought of God
Allure thee further on.
The freedom from all wilful fin, The Chriftian's daily tafk, —
O these are graces far below What longing love would afk !
Dole not thy duties out to God,
But let thy hand be free : Look long at Jesus ; his sweet Blood,
How was it dealt to thee ?
The per feci: way is hard to flefh ;
It is not hard to love ; If thou wert fick for want of God,
How swiftly wouldft thou move !
Good is the cloifter's filent made,
Cold watch and pining faft ; Better the miffions wearing ftrife,
If there thy lot be caft.
Aspiration. 25
Yet none of these perfection needs : — Keep thy heart calm all day,
And catch the words the Spirit there From hour to hour may say.
O keep thy conscience senfitive ;
No inward token miss ; And go where grace entices thee ; —
Perfection lies in this.
Be docile to thine unseen Guide, Love Him as He loves thee ;
Time and obedience are enough, And thou a saint malt be !
Faber.
26 Aspiration.
THE ETERNAL FATHER.
OHOW I fear Thee, living God ! With deepeft, tendereft fears, And worfhip Thee with trembling hope, And penitential tears.
Yet I may love Thee too, O Lord !
Almighty as Thou art, For Thou haft ftooped to afk of me
The love of my poor heart.
O then this worse than worthless heart
In pity deign to take, And make it love Thee for thyself
And for thy glory's sake.
No earthly father loves like Thee,
No mother half so mild Bears and forbears, as Thou haft done,
With me thy finful child.
Only to fit and think of God — O what a joy it is !
To think the thought, to breathe the Name- Earth has no higher bliss !
Aspiration. 27
Father of Jesus ! love's Reward !
What rapture will it be Proftrate before thy throne to lie,
And gaze and gaze on Thee !
Faber.
PECCATOR AD CHRISTUM.
MY spirit longeth for Thee To dwell within my breaft ; Although I am unworthy Of so divine a Gueft !
Of so divine a Gueft —
Unworthy though I be ; Yet hath my heart no reft
Until it come to Thee !
Until it come to Thee, —
In vain I look around ; In all that I can see,
No rest is to be found !
No reft is to be found,
But in thy bleeding love : Oh ! let my wifh be crown'd,
And send it from above !
Brydges.
28 Aspiration,
CHRISTUS AD PECCATOREM.
CHEER up, desponding soul, Thy longing pleased I see : 'Tis part of that great whole, Wherewith I longM for thee !
Wherewith I long'd for thee, And left my Father's throne ;
From death to set thee free, And claim thee for my own !
To claim thee for my own,
I suffer'd on the cross : Oh ! were my love but known,
All else would be as dross !
All else would be as dross !
And souls, through grace divine, Would count their gains but loss,
To live forever mine !
Brydges.
Self-Consecration. 29
SELF-CONSECRATION.
FAITH OF OUR FATHERS.
FAITH of our Fathers ! living (till In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword : Oh how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene'er we hear that glorious word : Faith of our Fathers ! Holv Faith ! We will be true to thee till death !
Our Fathers, chain'd in prisons dark, Were ftill in heart and conscience free :
How sweet would be their children's fate, If they, like them, could die for thee !
Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith !
We will be true to thee till death !
Faith of our Fathers ! we will love Both friend and foe in all our ftrife :
And preach thee too, as love knows how By kindly words and virtuous life :
Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith !
We will be true to thee till death !
Faber.
30 Self-Consecration,
THE VOW.
BRIGHT Angels who attend Around our altar now, Your wonted cares suspend,
Lift to the holy Vow, Which, while the sacrifice
Of Heaven's eternal love, Pleads for us every grace, Is heard in heaven above.
Jesus ! my happy heart
Now gives itself to Thee, O ! never hence depart,
Reign here eternally. Thy sacred name alone,
All my delight shall prove; No joy my soul mall own,
But in thy holy love.
And, oh ! in after years,
When life is fading fait, When flow repentant tears,
Cancelling errors paft, Still mall that holy vow,
Be breathed to Heaven, And fervently as now,
My heart to Thee be given.
Self-Consecration. 31
HYMN FOR CONFIRMATION.
MY God, accept my heart this day, And make it always thine, — That I from Thee no more may ftray, No more from Thee decline.
Before the cross of Him who died,
Behold I proftrate fall : Let every fin be crucified, —
Let Chrift be all in all !
Anoint me with thy heavenly grace,
Adopt me for thine own, — That I may see thy glorious face,
And wormip at thy throne !
May the dear blood, once fhed for me,
My bleft atonement prove, — That I from firft to laft may be
The purchase of thy love !
Let every thought, and work, and word,
To Thee be ever given,— Then life fhall be thy service, Lord,
And death the gate of heaven.
Brydges.
32 5;-.--L.
JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN.
C"i* su-blsta. Ma::, xvi. i±.
JESUS, — I my cross hive taken, All to leave and follow Thee; I am poor, despised, forsaken, —
Thou henceforth my all malt be : Perish cvtrr :'::.z am'ritiDr., —
All I've sought, or hoped, or know- ; Ye: how rich is my condition, — God and heaven are ftill mine own !
Let the world despise and leave me,
It has left my Saviour too; Human hearts and looks deceive me,
Thou art not like them untrue : Whilft thy graces (hall adorn me,
God of wisdom, love, and might, — Foes mav hate, and friends m ay town me;—
Show thy face, and all is bright.
G: :'-.zr., — earthly fame and treasure, C : me, disafter, scorn, and pain ;
In thy service, pain is pleasure, — With thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, Abba Father ! I have se: mv heart on Tr.ee :
Self-Consecration. 33
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, All will work for good to me.
Man may trouble and diftress me,
'Twill but drive me to thy breaft ; Life with trials hard may press me
Heaven will bring me sweeter reft. Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me
While thy love is left to me ; — Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee !
Soul, — then know thy full salvation,
Rise o'er fin, and fear, and care ; Joy to find in every ftation,
Something ftill to do or bear. Think what spirit dwells within thee,
Think what Father's smiles are thine ; Think that Jesus died to win thee :
Child of heaven, cans't thou repine ?
Hafte thee on from grace to glorv,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer, — Heaven's eternal days before thee,
God's own hand (hall guide thee there. Soon (hall close thine earthly miffion,
Patience fhall thy spirit raise ; Hope fhall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise !
34 Self-Consecration.
CONVERSION.
O FAITH ! thou workeft miracles Upon the hearts of men, Choofing thy home in those same hearts. We know not how or when.
To one thy grave unearthly truths
A heavenly vifion seem ; While to another's eye they are
A superftitious dream.
To one the deeped doclrines look
So naturally true, That when he learns the leflbn firft
He hardly thinks it new.
To other hearts the selfsame truths No light or heat can bring ;
They are but puzzling phrases ftrung Like beads upon a firing.
O Gift of Gifts ! O Grace of Faith !
My God ! how can it be That Thou, who haft discerning love,
Should'ft give that gift to me ?
Self -Consecration. 35
There was a place, there was a time,
Whether by night or day, Thy Spirit came and left that gift,
And went upon his way.
How many hearts Thou might'ft have had
More innocent than mine ! How many souls more worthy far
Of that sweet touch of thine !
Ah Grace ! into unlikelieft hearts
It is thy boaft to come, The glory of thy light to find
In darken1 spots a home.
How will they die, how will they die,
How bear the cross of grief, Who have not got the light of faith,
The courage of belief?
The crowd of cares, the weightier!: cross Seem trifles less than light, —
Earth looks so little and so low When faith mines full and bright.
O happy, happy that I am !
If thou canft be, O Faith ! The treasure that thou art in life,
What wilt thou be in death ?
36 Self-Consecration.
Thy choice, O God of Goodness ! then
I lovingly adore ; O give me grace to keep thy grace,
And grace to merit more !
Faber,
PRAYER OF THE CONTRITE SINNER.
HAVE mercy Thou, moft gracious God ! And my remittance fign ; The more thy mercy mail accord, The greater glory thine.
Thou surely haft not said in vain :
c< More joy in heaven is made, For the loft fheep that's found again,
Than those which never stray'd."
Help'd by thy grace, no more I'll stray,
No more refift thy voice ; Where Thou, good Shepherd, lead'ft the way,
That way fhall be my choice.
Too long, alas ! my wand'ring feet
The crooked paths have trod ; Henceforth I'll follow, as is meet,
The sure unerring road.
Self-Consecration. 27
If casual falls retard my pace, With speed again I'll rise ;
With speed I'll reassume my race, And run and gain the prize.
All praise, O Lord, to Thee alone,
Below, as 'tis above : And may thy joys, Eternal One,
Both draw and crown my love.
HYMN OF ST. FRANCIS XAVIER.
O Deus, ego amo Te.
MY God, I love Thee, not because I hope for Heaven thereby ; Nor because they who love Thee not, Must burn eternally.
Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didft me
Upon the Cross embrace ; For me didft bear the nails and spear,
And manifold disgrace ;
And griefs and torments numberless ;
And sweat of agony ; E'en death itself — and all for one
Who was thine enemy.
38 Self-Consecration.
Then why, O bleffed Jesu Chrift !
Should I not love Thee well ; Not for the sake of winning Heaven,
Or of escaping Hell :
Not with the hope of gaining aught ;
Not seeking a reward ; But, as Thyself haft loved me,
O ever-loving Lord ?
E'en so I love Thee, and will love,
And in thy praise will fing ; Solely because Thou art my God,
And my eternal King.
Missal.
Trust, 39
TRUST.
THE RIGHT MUST WIN.
OIT is hard to work for God, To rise and take his part Upon this battle-field of earth, And not sometimes lose heart !
He hides Himself so wondroufly, As though there were no God ;
He is lean: seen when all the powers Of ill are moll: abroad :
Or He deserts us at the hour
The fight is all but loft ; And seems to leave us to ourselves
Juft when we need Him moft.
O there is less to try our faith,
In our myfterious creed, Than in the godless look of earth
In these our hours of need.
40 Trust.
Ill matters good ; good seems to change
To ill with greateft ease ; And, worft of all, the good with good
Is at cross purposes.
The Church, the Sacraments, the Faith,
Their uphill journey take, Lose here what there they gain, and, if
We lean upon them, break.
It is not so, but so it looks ;
And we lose courage then ; And doubts will come if God hath kept
His promises to men.
Ah ! God is other than we think ;
His ways are far above, Far beyond reason's height, and reach'd
Only by childlike love.
The look, the fafhion of God's ways
Love's lifelong ftudy are ; She can be bold, and guess, and act,
When reason would not dare.
She has a prudence of her own ;
Her ftep is firm and free ; Yet there is cautious science too
In her simplicity.
Trust. 41
Workman of God ! O lose not heart,
But learn what God is like ; And in the darkeft battle-field
Thou fhalt know where to ftrike.
O bless'd is he to whom is given
The inftincl: that can tell That God is on the field, when He
Is moft invisible !
And bless'd is he who can divine
Where real right doth lie, And dares to take the side that seems
Wrong to man's blindfold eye !
O learn to scorn the praise of men !
O learn to lose with God ! For Jesus won the world through fhame,
And beckons thee his road.
God's glory is a wondrous thing,
Moft ftrange in all its ways, And, of all things on earth, leaft like
What men agree to praise.
As He can endless glory weave
From time's misjudging shame, In his own world He is content
To play a lofing game.
42 Trust.
Muse on his juftice, downcaft Soul!
Muse and take better heart ; Back with thine angel to the field,
Good luck mall crown thy part!
God's juftice is a bed where we
Our anxious hearts may lay, And, weary with ourselves, may sleep
Our discontent away.
For right is right, since God is God ;
And right the day muft win ; To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin !
Faber.
Trust. 43
SURSUM CORDA.
LIFT up your hearts ! " Yes, I will lift My heart and soul, dear Lord, to Thee Who every good and perfect gift Vouchsaf'ft so lavifhly and free.
All that is beft, from Thee comes down On us, with rich and ample ftore,
Thy bounteous hands our wifhes crown With good, increasing more and more.
'Twas Thou that gave us life and breath, It is thy hand that holds us ftill,
That keeps us from the ileep of death, And fhelters us from every ill.
Yea, more than corporal life,— thy love Has promise given of life to come ;
And taught us, by the faith, above All ills to soar, and burft the tomb.
Then, while I live, with ardent eye, Let me look up to Thee, and learn,
From bleflings here, to look on high, And purer blefTings there discern !
f
44 Trust.
All Thou haft given is thine, then take Me, thine own gift, for all thine own,
And teach me every day to make New vows of love to Thee alone !
GOD AND HEAVEN.
THE silver chord in twain is snapp'd The golden bowl is broken, The mortal mould in darkness wrapp'd,
The words funereal spoken ; The tomb is built, or the rock is cleft,
Or delved is the grafly clod, And what for mourning man is left ? O what is left — but God !
The tears are fhed that mourn'd the dead,
The flowers they wore are faded ; The twilight dun hath veil'd the sun,
And hope's sweet dreamings fhaded : And the thoughts of joy that were planted deep,
From our heart of hearts are riven ; And what is left us when we weep ?
O what is left — but Heaven !
Trust. 45
THE WILL OF GOD.
" 7%y <will be done.'"
I WORSHIP thee, sweet Will of God! And all thy ways adore, And every day I live I seem To love thee more and more.
Thou wert the end, the blefTed rule
Of Jesu's toils and tears ; Thou wert the paffion of his Heart
Those Three-and-Thirty years.
And He hath breathed into my soul
A special love of thee, A love to lose my will in his
And by that loss be free.
I love to see thee bring to naught
The plans of wily men ; When fimple Hearts outwit the wise,
O thou art loveliest then !
The headftrong world, it prefTes hard
Upon the Church full oft, And then how eafily thou turn'ft
The hard ways into soft.
4-6 Trust.
I love to kiss each print where thou Haft set thine unseen feet :
I cannot fear thee, blefled Will ! Thine empire is so sweet.
When obftacles and trials seem
Like prison-walls to be, I do the little 1 can do,
And leave the reft to thee.
I have no cares, O blefled Will !
For all my cares are thine ; I live in triumph, Lord ! for Thou
Haft made thy triumphs mine.
And when it seems no chance or change From grief can set me free,
Hope finds its ftrength in helpleflhess, And gaily waits on thee.
Man's weakness waiting upon God
Its end can never miss, For men on earth no work can do
More angel-like than this.
Ride on, ride on triumphantly, Thou glorious Will ! ride on ;
Faith's pilgrim sons behind thee take The road that thou haft gone.
Trust. 47
He always wins who sides with God,
To him no chance is loft ; God's will is sweetest to him when
It triumphs at his coft.
Ill that He Merles is our good,
And unbleft good is ill ; And all is right that seems moft wrong,
If it be His sweet Will !
Faber.
Dies iney dies ilia. [Crashaw's Translation.]
HEAR'ST thou, my soul, what serious things Both the Psalm and Sibyl fings, Of a sure Judge, from whose fharp ray The world in flames fhall pass away ?
O that fire ! before whose face, Heaven and Earth fhall find no place ; O these eyes ! whose angry light Muft be the day of that dread night.
O that trump ! whose blaft fhall run An even round with th* circling sun, And urge the murmuring graves to bring Pale mankind forth to meet his King.
48 Trust.
Horror of nature, hell and death ! When a deep groan as from beneath Shall cry, " We come ! we come ! " and all The caves of night answer one call.
O that book! whose leaves so bright, Will set the world in severe light : O that Judge ! whose hand, whose eye, None can endure — yet none can fly.
Ah ! thou poor soul, what wilt thou say ? And to what patron choose to pray ? When ftars themselves fhall ftagger, and The moft firm foot no more than fland.
But thou giveft leave, dread Lord, that we Take melter from Thyself in Thee ; And, with the wings of thine own dove, Fly to the sceptre of soft love.
Trust. 49
MY GOD AND MY ALL.
Deus meus ct omnia.
WHILE Thou, O my God, art my help and defender, No cares can o'erwhelm me, no terrors appall ; The wiles and the snares of this world will but render More lively my hope in my God and my all.
Yes ; Thou art my refuge in sorrow and danger ;
My ftrength when I suffer ; my hope when I fall ; My comfort and joy in this land of the ftranger ;
My treasure, my glory, my God, and my all.
To Thee, deareft Lord, will I turn without ceafing, Though grief may oppress me, or sorrow befall ;
And love Thee, till death, my bleft spirit releafing, Secures to me Jesus, my God and my all.
And when Thou demandeft the life Thou haft given, With joy will I answer thy merciful call ;
And quit Thee on earth, but to find Thee in heaven, My portion forever, my God and my all.
W. Young.
53 Pray
PRAYER.
Tclluns alme cone.
O BOUNTEOUS Framer of the globe! Who with thv mighty hand Didft gather up the rolling seas, And firmly base the land :
That so the frefhly teeming earth
Mi^ht herb and seedling bear, Standing in early beauty g
With flowers and fruitage fair :
On our parch'd souls pour Thou, O Lord,
The frefhness of thy grace ; So penitence fhall spring anew,
And all the paft efface.
Grant us to fear thy holy law,
To feel thv goodness Dig
Grant us through life thy peace ; in death
Thine immortality.
Breviary.
Prayer. 5 1
WHIT-SUNDAY.
Veni Sancte Spiritus.
HOLY Spirit ! Lord of light ! From thy clear celeftial height, Thy pure beaming radiance give :
Come, Thou Father of the poor ! Come, with treasures which endure ! Come, Thou Light of all that live ;
Thou, of all consolers beft, Vifiting the troubled breaft, Doft refrefhing peace beftow ;
Thou in toil art comfort sweet ; Pleasant coolness in the heat ; Solace in the midft of woe.
Light immortal ! light divine ! Vifit Thou these hearts of thine, And our inmoft being; fill :
If Thou take thy grace away, Nothing pure in man will flay ; All his good is turned to ill.
52 Prayer.
Heal our wounds, — our ftrength renew ; On our dryness pour thy dew ; Wafh the ftains of guilt away :
Bend the flubborn heart and will ; Melt the frozen, warm the chill ; Guide the fteps that go aftray.
Thou, on those who evermore Thee confess and Thee adore, In thy sevenfold gifts, descend :
Give them comfort when they die ;
Give them life with Thee on high ;
Give them joys which never end.
Missal.
Veni Creator.
CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations firft were laid, Come vifit every pious mind ; Come pour thy joys on human kind ; From fin and sorrow set us free And make thy temples worthy Thee.
O source of uncreated light The Father's promised Paraclete !
Prayer. 53
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire : Come, and thy sacred unction bring, To sanctify us while we fing.
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sevenfold energy !
Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand,
Whose power does heaven and earth command,
Proceeding Spirit, our defence,
Who doft the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown thy gift with eloquence !
Refine and purge our earthly parts : But oh ! inflame and fire our hearts : Our frailties help, our vice control — Submit the senses to the soul : And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold them down.
Chase from our minds th* infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, beftow j And left our feet mould ftep aftray, Protect and guide us in the way.
Make us eternal truth receive, And practise all that we believe : Give us Thyself, that we may see The Father, and the Son, by Thee.
Tranjlated by Dry den.
54 Prayer.
LENT.
Audi ben'igne Conditor.
THOU loving Maker of mankind, Before thy throne we pray and weep ; Oh, ftrengthen us with grace divine, Duly this sacred Lent to keep.
Searcher of hearts ! Thou doft our ills Discern, and all our weakness know:
Again to Thee with tears we turn ; Again to us thy mercy mow.
Much have we finn'd ; but we confess Our guilt, and all our faults deplore :
Oh, for the praise of thy great Name, Our fainting souls to health reftore !
And grant us, while by fafts we ftrive
This mortal body to control, To faft from all the food of fin,
And so to purify the soul.
Hear us, O Trinity thrice bleft !
Sole Unity ! to Thee we cry : Vouchsafe us from these fafts below
To reap immortal fruit on high.
Breviary.
Prayer. 55
Magna Deus potent'ue.
LORD of all power! at whose command, The waters, from their teeming womb, Brought forth the countless tribes of fifh, And birds of every note and plume :
Who didft, for natures link'd in birth,
Far different homes of old prepare ; Sinking the fifties in the sea ;
Lifting the birds aloft in air.
Lo ! born of thy baptismal wave,
We ask of Thee, O Lord divine ! "Keep us, whom Thou haft sanctified
In thy own Blood, forever thine.
" Safe from all pride, as from despair ;
Not sunk too low, nor raised too high Left raised by pride, we headlong fall ;
Sunk in despair, lie down and die."
Breviary.
56 Encouragement.
ENCOURAGEMENT.
JESUS.
THE light of love is round his feet, His paths are never dim ; And He comes nigh to us when we Dare not come nigh to Him.
Let us be simple with Him then, Not backward, {tiff, or cold,
As though our Bethlehem could be What Sinai was of old.
His love of us may teach us how
To love Him in return ; Love cannot help but grow more free
The more its transports burn.
The solemn face, the downcaft eye, The words conftrain'd and cold, —
These are the homage, poor at beft, Of those outfide the fold.
Encouragement. 57
O that they knew what Jesus was,
And what untold abyss Lies in love's fimple forwardness
Of more than earthly bliss !
O that they knew what faith can work !
What Sacraments can do ! What fimple love is like, on fire
In hearts absolved and true !
How can they tell but Jesus oft
His secret thirft will flake, On those ftrange freedoms childlike hearts
Are taught by God to take ?
Poor souls ! they know not how to love \
They feel not Jesus near ; And they who know not how to love
Still less know how to fear.
The humbling of the Incarnate Word
They have not faith to face ; And how shall they who have not faith
Attain love's better grace?
The awe that lies too deep for words, Too deep for solemn looks, —
It finds no way into the face, No spoken vent in books.
,
58 Encouragement.
They would not speak in measured tones,
If love had in them wrought Until their spirits had been hufh'd
In reverential thought.
They would have smiled in playful ways
To ease their fervid heart, And learn'd with other fimple souls
To play love's crafty part.
They would have run away from God
For their own vileness' sake, And fear'd left some interior light
From tell-tale eyes mould break.
They know not how the outward smile
The inward awe can prove ; They fathom not the creature's fear
Of Uncreated Love.
The majefty of God ne'er broke
On them like fire at night, Flooding their ftricken souls, while they
Lay trembling in the light.
They love not ; for they have not kiss'd
The Saviour's outer hem : They fear not ; for the Living God
Is yet unknown to them !
Faber.
Encouragement.
59
SOLDIERS of Chrift! arise! And put your armor on, Strong in the ftrength which God supplies
Through his eternal Son ; Strong is the Lord of hofts, And in his mighty power, Who in the ftrength of Jesus trufts, Is more than conqueror.
Soldiers of Chrift ! arise !
The God of armies calls Unto his manfions in the fkies —
His everlafting halls : Behold ! the angel hoft appears
To welcome you to bliss ; Oh ! what is earth, its fighs, and tears,
Its joys compared to this !
Crufh'd is the haughty foe,
His might, his glory gone, But ye with victory crown'd, mail go
To Chrift's eternal throne. There mail the conqueror reft,
And in that bleft abode, Forever reign amid the bleft,
Triumphant with his God.
6o Encouragement.
MARY MAGDALEN.
TO the hall of the feaft came the finful and fair ; She heard in the city that Jesus was there ; She mark'd not the splendor that blazed on their board ; But filently knelt at the feet of her Lord.
The hair from her forehead, so sad and so meek, Hung dark o'er the blushes that burn'd on her cheek ; And so ftill and so lowly fhe bent in her fhame, It seem'd as her spirit had flown from its frame.
The frown and the murmur went round through them all, That one so unhallow'd mould tread in that hall ; And some said the poor would be objects more meet For the wealth of the perfumes fhe fhower'd at his feet.
She mark'd but her Saviour, fhe spoke but in fighs, She dared not look up to the heaven of his eyes ; And the hot tears gufh'd forth at each heave of her breaft, As her lips to his sandals fhe throbbingly prefT'd.
On the cloud, after tempefts, as fhineth the bow, In the glance of the sun-beam, as melteth the snow, He look'd on that loft one — her fins were forgiven ; And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven.
Callanan.
Self- Examination. 6 1
SELF-EXAMINATION.
THE GIFTS OF GOD.
MY soul J what haft thou done for God ? Look o'er thy miflpent years and see ; Sum up what thou haft done for God, And then what God hath done for thee.
He made thee when He might have made A soul that would have loved Him more ;
He rescued thee from nothingness, And set thee on life's happy fhore.
He placed an angel at thy fide,
And ftrewed joys round thee on thy way ; He gave thee rights thou couldft not claim,
And life, free life, before thee lay.
Had God in heaven no work to do
But miracles of love for thee ? No world to rule, no joy in Self
And in his own infinity ?
5: ~A: : ~tt- ::
: : " . ..: • _. . - . - I - ~ :i~ e
H.« : Ay. r. - Ere: i. : : r. . r.t :':::: :.e r::e : :" A:iA; ?A ef.
And with his Blood fin's captives won.
The ~::1; ::fe _r -ji.rA: A- !: •■ e .
A; :-.:__-■ A : : Av '.: : A: i: A~
:
Ye: f: ". :e ?ur. :* Air : ;iy, Tbe moon ftQl beautiful by eight;
7:: -.-::!£ z:-ef ::_rA. ir.z :" -,..:- .:. A r. : A'e . • :t A e . . f a a A : t. . A:. :.
Self-Exa??iinaticn. 63
No voice God's wondrous filence breaks, No hand put forth his anger tells ;
But He, the Omnipotent and Dread, On high in humbleft patience dwells.
The Son hath come ; and maddened fin The world's Redeemer crucified ;
The Spirit comes, and flays, while men His presence doubt, his gifts deride.
And now the Father keeps Himself
In patient and forbearing love, To be his creature's heritage
In that undying life above.
O wonderful, O paffing thought,
The love that God hath had for thee !
Spending on thee no less a sum Than the Undivided Trinity !
Father, and Son, and Holy Ghoft, Exhaufted for a thing like this, —
The world's whole government disposed For one ungrateful creature's bliss !
What haft thou done for God, my soul?
Look o'er thy miiTpent years and see ; Cry from thy worse than nothingness,
Cry for his mercy upon thee!
Faber.
64 Self-Examination.
SWEETNESS IN PRAYER.
WHY doft thou beat so quick, my heart \ Why ftruggle in thy cage r What fhall I do for thee, poor heart ! Thy throbbing heat to suage ?
What spell is this come over thee ?
My soul ! what sweet surprise I And wherefore these unbidden tears
That itart into mine eyes :
How are my paffions laid to fleep,
How easy penance seems ! And how the bright world fades away —
0 are they all but dreams ?
How ereat, how good does God appear,
How dear our holy faith ! How tafteless life's beft joys have grown !
How I could welcome death !
Thy sweetness hath betrayed Thee, Lord !
Dear Spirit ! it is Thou ; Deeper and deeper in my heart
1 feel Thee nettling now.
Self-Exa?nination. 65
Whence Thou haft come I need not afk ;
But, O moft gentle Dove ! O wherefore haft Thou lit on one
That so repays thy love ?
Ah ! that Thou mighteft ftay with me,
Or else that I might die While heart and soul are ftill subdued
With thy sweet maftery.
Thy home is with the humble, Lord !
The fimple are thy reft ; Thy lodging is in childlike hearts ;
Thou makeft there thy neft.
Dear Comforter ! Eternal Love !
If Thou wilt ftay with me, Of lowly thoughts and fimple ways
I'll build a neft for Thee.
My heart, sweet Dove ! I'll lend to Thee
To mourn with at thy will ; My tongue fhall be thy lute to try
On Tinners' souls thy fkill.
Who made this beating heart of mine,
But Thou my heavenly Gueft ? Let no one have it then but Thee, And let it be thy neft.
Faber. E
66 Self-Examinaticn.
DRYNESS IN PRAYER.
OFOR the happy days gone by, When love ran smooth and free, Days when my Spirit so enjoy'd More than earth's libertv !
O for the times when on mv heart
Long prayer had never pall'd, Times when the ready thought of God
Would come when it was call'd !
Then when I knelt to meditate, Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul,
Countless and bright and beautiful, Beyond my own control.
O who hath lock'd those fountains up ?
Those virions who hath ftay'd ? What sudden act hath thus transform'd
My sunfhine into fhade ?
This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will
Dry as the desert sand, Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts
That come without command, —
Self-Examination. 6 J
A faith that seems not faith, a hope
That cares not for its aim, A love that none the hotter grows
At Jesu's blefTed name, —
The weariness of prayer, the mift
O'er conscience overspread, The chill repugnance to frequent
The Feaft of Angels' Bread : —
If this drear change be thine, O Lord !
If it be thy sweet will, Spare not, but to the very brim
The bitter chalice fill.
But if it hath been fin of mine,
0 fhow that fin to me,
Not to get back the sweetness loft, But to make peace with Thee.
One thing alone, dear Lord ! I dread ;—
To have a secret spot That separates my soul from Thee,
And yet to know it not.
0 when the tide of graces set So full upon my heart,
1 know, dear Lord ! how faithlessly
1 did my little part.
68 Self-Examination.
I know how well my heart hath earn'd
A chaftisement like this, In trifling many a grace away
In self-complacent bliss.
But if this weariness hath come
A present from on high, Teach me to find the hidden wealth
That in its depths may lie.
So in this darkness I can learn
To tremble and adore, To sound my own vile nothingness,
And thus to love Thee more, —
To love Thee, and yet not to think
That I can love so much, — To have Thee with me, Lord ! all day,
Yet not to feel thy touch.
If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire,
Hire which thy beauty fhow'd, Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught,
And only as my God.
O blefled be this darkness then,
This deep in which I lie, And blefled be all things that teach
God's great supremacy.
Faber.
Self- Examination. 69
DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER.
AH ! deareft Lord ! I cannot pray, My fancy is not free ; Unmannerly diffractions come,
And force my thoughts from Thee.
The world that looks so dull all day Glows bright on me at prayer,
And plans that afk no thought but then Wake up and meet me there.
All nature one full fountain seems
Of dreamy fight and sound, Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps,
And makes a deluge round.
Old voices murmur in my ear,
New hopes ftart into life, And paft and future gayly blend
In one bewitching ftrife.
My very flefh has reftless fits;
My changeful limbs conspire With all these phantoms of the mind
My inner self to tire.
70 Self- Examination.
I cannot pray ; yet, Lord ! Thou know'ft
The pain it is to me To have my vainly-ftruggling thoughts
Thus torn away from Thee.
Prayer was not meant for luxury,
Or selfifh paftime sweet ; It is the proftrate creature's place
At his Creator's feet.
Had I, dear Lord ! no pleasure found
But in the thought of Thee, Prayer would have come unsought, and been
A truer liberty.
Yet Thou art oft moft present, Lord !
In weak diftracted prayei ; A finner out of heart with self
Moft often finds Thee there.
And prayer that humbles, sets the soul
From all illufions free, And teaches it how utterly,
Dear Lord ! it hangs on Thee.
The soul, that on self-sacrifice
Is dutifully bent, Will bless thy chaftening hand that makes
Its prayer its punifhment.
Self-Exa?ni?iation. 'J l
Ah, Jesus! why mould I complain?
And why fear aught but fin r Diffractions are but outward things ;
Thv peace dwells far within!
These surface-troubles come and go,
Like rufflings of the sea ; The deeper depth is out of reach
To all, my God, but Thee !
Faber.
PREPARATIVE TO PRAYER.
WHEN thou doft talk with God — by prayer I mean — Lift up pure hands, lay down all luft's defires ; Fix thoughts on heaven, present a conscience clean :
Since holy blame to mercy's throne aspires, Confess faults' guilt, crave pardon for thy fin, Tread holy paths, call grace to guide therein.
It is the spirit with reverence must obey
Our Maker's will, to practise what He taught :
Make not the flefh thy council when thou pray ; 'Tis enemy to every virtuous thought ;
It is the foe we daily feed and clothe ;
It is the prison that the soul doth loathe.
Self-Examination .
Even as Elias, mounting to the fky,
Did caft his mantle to the earth behind ;
So, when the heart presents the praver on high, Exclude the world from traffic with the mind :
Lips near to God, and ranging heart within,
Is but vain babbling, and converts to fin.
As Abraham, ascending up the hill
To sacrifice ; his servants left below, That he might act the great Commander's will,
Without impeach to his obedient blow ; Even so the soul, remote from earthly things, Should mount salvation's melter — mercy's wings.
S:uthwell.
Christ. 73
CHRIST.
PASTOR ANIMARUM.
(From the Spanish.)
COME, wandering fheep, O come! I'll bind thee to my breaft ; I'll bear thee to thy home, And lay thee down to reft.
I saw thee ftray forlorn, And heard thee faintly cry,
And on the tree of scorn For thee I deign'd to die — What greater proof could I
Give, — than to seek the tomb ?
Come, wandering fheep, O come !
I fhield thee from alarms, And wilt thou not be bleft ?
I bear thee in my arms ;
Thou, bear me in thy breaft ! O, this is love — come, reft —
This is a blissful doom.
Come, wandering fheep, O come !
74 Christ.
DOMUS AUREA.
LIGHT! Light! Infinite Light! The mountains melted away : Ten thousand thousand seraphim bright
Were loft in a blaze of day : For God was there, and beneath his feet
A pavement of sapphires glow'd,* As the mirror of glory transcendantly meet To reflect, his own abode !
Love ! Love ! Infinite Love !
The lowly Lady of grace Bows underneath the o'erfhadowing Dove,
Her eternal Son to embrace ! For God is there, the Ancient of Days,
An Infant of human years : Whilft angels around them inceflantly gaze,
And nature is wrapt in tears !
Peace ! Peace ! Infinite Peace !
A Golden House hath it found, Whose ineffable beauty muft ever increase
With immortality crown'd ! For God was there, the Lord of the skies,
Whose loud alleluias ran, From heaven to earth, — as Emmanuel lies
In the arms of Alary for man !
Brydges. * Exodus xxiv. 10.
Christ. 75
Jesu dulcis memoria.
JESU ! the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills my breaft ; But sweeter far thy face to see, And in thy presence reft.
Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the memory find, A sweeter sound than thy bleft name,
O Saviour of mankind !
O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek, To those who fall, how kind Thou art !
How good to those who seek !
But what to those who find ? ah ! this Nor tongue nor pen can show :
The love of Jesus, what it is, None but his loved ones know.
Jesus ! our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our prize wilt be ; Jesus ! be Thou our glory now,
And through eternity.
Breviary.
76 Christ.
Jesu Rex admirabills.
r\ JESUS ! King moft wonderful ! ^-^ Thou Conqueror renown'd ! Thou Sweetness moft ineffable ! In whom all joys are found !
When once Thou vifiteft the heart, Then truth begins to mine ;
Then earthly vanities depart j Then kindles love divine.
O Jesu ! Light of all below !
Thou Fount of life and fire ! Surpafling all the joys we know,
All that we can defire :
May every heart confess thy name,
And ever Thee adore ; And seeking Thee, itself inflame
To seek Thee more and more.
Thee may our tongues forever bless ;
Thee may we love alone ; And ever in our lives express
The image of thine own.
B
reviary.
Christ. 77
Jesu decus angelicum.
OJESU ! Thou the beauty art Of angel worlds above ; Thy name is mufic to the heart, Enchanting it with love.
Celeftial sweetness unalloy'd !
Who eat Thee hunger ftill ; Who drink of Thee ftill feel a void,
Which naught but Thou can fill.
O my sweet Jesu ! hear the fighs
Which unto Thee I send ; To Thee mine inmoft spirit cries,
My being's hope and end !
Stay with us, Lord, and with thy light
Illume the soul's abyss ; Scatter the darkness of our night,
And fill the world with bliss.
O Jesu ! spotless Virgin flower !
Our life and joy ! to Thee Be praise, beatitude, and power,
Through all eternity.
Breviary.
7 8 Christ.
Marentes ;;-.': .'ZJi^gite lachrj,
^TOW let us fit and weep, ' And fill our hearts with woe : Pondering the mame, and torments c Which Chrift from wicked men did undergo.
;:: ' how the m ;i:::ude,
With swords and ftaves, draw n:r~ :
- ! how they smr.z buffets rude,
That head divine of awful majelty :
How, bound with cruel cord,
Chrift to the scourge is given ;
And ruffians lift their hands, unawed,
:ft the King of Kings and Lord of Heaven.
Then roughly dragg'd to death, Chrift on the Cross is ilain ; And, as He die breath,
Into his Father's hands gives back his soul again.
To Him who so much bore, To gain for finners grace, Be praise and glory evermore, From the whole universal human race.
Breviary.
Christ- 79
S>uicunque certum quaritis.
ALL ye who seek a certain cure In trouble and diftress, Whatever sorrow vex the mind, Or guilt the soul oppress :
Jesus, who gave Himself for you
Upon the Cross to die, Opens to you his sacred Heart, —
Oh, to that Heart draw nigh !
Ye hear how kindly He invites ;
Ye hear his words so bleft ; — " All ye that labor, come to Me,
And I will give you reft."
What meeker than the Saviour's Heart ?-
As on the Cross He lay, It did his murderers forgive,
And for their pardon pray.
O Heart ! thou joy of Saints on high !
Thou Hope of finners here ! Attracted by those loving words,
To Thee I lift my prayer.
8o Christ.
Wafh Thou my wounds in that dear Blood Which forth from Thee doth flow ;
New grace, new hope inspire ; a new And better heart beftow.
Breviary.
Summi Parentis filio.
TO Chrift, the Prince of Peace, And Son of God mod high, The Father of the world to come, — Sing we with holy joy.
Deep in his Heart for us The wound of love He bore ; — That love, which ftill He kindles in The hearts that Him adore.
O Fount of endless life ! O Spring of waters clear! O Flame celeftial, cleanfing all Who unto Thee draw near!
Hide me in thy dear Heart, For thither do I fly ; There seek thy grace through life, in death Thine immortality.
Breviary.
Christ. 8 1
JESUS CRUCIFIED.
OCOME and mourn with me awhile ; See, Mary calls us to her fide ; O come and let us mourn with her, — Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
Have we no tears to fhed for Him, While soldiers scoff and Jews deride ?
Ah ! look how patiently he hangs, — Jesus, our Love, is crucified!
His Mother cannot reach his face !
She ftands in helpleffness befide, Her heart is martyr'd with her Son's, —
Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
Seven times He spoke, seven words of love, And all three hours his filence cried
For mercy on the souls of men : — Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
What was thy crime, my deareft Lord ?
By earth, by heaven, Thou haft been tried, And guilty found of too much love ; —
Jesus, our Love, is crucified!
F
Christ.
Found guilty of excess of love,
It was thine own sweet will that tied
Thee tighter far than helpless nails ; — Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
Death came, and Jesus meekly bow'd ;
His failing eves He ftrove to guide With mindful love to Mary's face ; —
Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
O break, O break, hard heart of mine !
Thv weak self-love and guiltv pride His Pilate and his Judas were ; —
Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
Come, take thy ftand beneath the Cross, And let the blood from out that side
Fall gently on thee drop by drop ; — Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
A broken heart, a fount of tears, — Afk, and they will not be denied ;
A broken heart love's cradle is ; — Jesus, our Love, is crucified !
O love of God ! O sin of Man !
In this dread act your ftrength is tried ; And victor)7 remains with love,
For He, our Love, is crucified !
Christ. 83
N
EASTER.
Ad regias agni dafes.
OW at the Lamb's high royal feaft In robes of saintly white we fing, Through the Red Sea in safety brought By Jesus our immortal King.
O depth of love ! for us He drinks
The chalice of his agony : For us a victim on the Cross
He meekly lays Him down to die.
And as the avenging Angel pass'd Of old the blood-besprinkled door ;
As the cleft sea a paffage gave,
Then closed to whelm th' Egyptians o'er :
So Chrift, our Paschal Sacrifice,
Has brought us safe all perils through j
While for unleaven'd bread we need But heart fincere and purpose true.
Hail, pureft victim Heaven could find, The powers of Hell to overthrow !
Who didft the chains of Death deflroy ; Who doft the prize of Life beftow.
84 Christ.
Hail, victor Chriit ! hail, risen King !
To Thee alone belongs the crown ; Who haft the heavenly gates unbarr'd,
And dragg'd the Prince of darkness down.
O Jesus ! from the death of fin
Keep us we pray ; so fhalt Thou be
The everlafting Paschal joy
Of all the souls new-born in Thee.
Breviary
LIGHT of the Soul, O Saviour bleft ! Soon as thy presence fills the breaft, Darkness and guilt are put to flight, And all is sweetness and delight.
Son of the Father ! Lord moft high ! How glad is he who feels Thee nigh ! How sweet in Heaven thy beam doth glow, Denied to eve of nefh below !
O Light of Light celeftial !
O Charitv ineffable !
Come in thy hidden majefty ;
Fill us with love, fill us with Thee.
Breviary.
Christ. 85
Dies irce dies ilia.
NIGHER ftill, and ftill more nigh Draws the Day of Prophecy,. Doom'd to melt the earth and fkv.
Oh, what trembling there mail be, When the world its Judge mail see, Coming in dread majefty !
Hark ! the trump, with thrilling tone, From sepulchral regions lone, Summons all before the throne :
Time and Death it doth appall, To see the buried ages all Rise to answer at the call.
Now the books are open spread ; Now the writing muft be read, Which condemns the quick and dead :
Now, before the Judge severe Hidden things muft all appear ; Naught can pass unpunifh'd here.
86 Christ.
What fhall guilty I then plead ?
Who for me will intercede,
When the Saints fhall comfort need ?
King of dreadful Majefty ! Who doft freely juftify ! Fount of Pity, save Thou me !
Recollect, O Love divine ! 'Twas for this loft fheep of thine Thou thy glory didft refign :
Sateft wearied seeking me ; Sufferedft upon the tree : Let not vain thy labor be.
Judge of Juftice, hear my prayer ! Spare me, Lord, in mercy spare! Ere the Reckoning-day appear.
Lo ! thy gracious face I seek ; Shame and grief are on my cheek ; Sighs and tears my sorrow speak.
Thou didft Mary's guilt forgive ; Didft the dying thief receive ; Hence doth hope within me live.
Christ. 87
Suppliant in the duft I lie ;
My heart a cinder, crufh'd and dry ;
Help me, Lord, when death is nigh!
Full of tears, and full of dread, Is the day that wakes the dead, Calling all, with solemn blaft, From the allies of the paft.
Lord of mercy ! Jesu bleft ! Grant the Faithful light and reft.
Missal.
SaJutis humaiue Sator.
OTHOU pure light of souls that love, True joy of every human breaft, Sower of life's immortal seed,
Our Saviour and Redeemer bleft !
Be Thou our guide, be Thou our goal ;
Be Thou our pathway to the fkies ; Our joy, when sorrow fills the soul ;
In death our everlafting prize.
Breviary.
Christ.
ROCK OF AGES.
TJ OCK of Ages, cleft for me,
-J*^- Let me hide myself in Thee ;
Let the water and the blood,
From thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure ;
Save from wrath and make me pure.
In my hand no price I bring, Simply to thy Cross I cling ; Naked come to Thee for dress, Helpless look to Thee for grace, Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyes mall close in death, When I rise to worlds unknown, And behold Thee on thy throne ; Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee.
Top lady.
Christ. 89
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Dies ira, dies ilia.
LO ! He comes with clouds descending, Once for favor'd Tinners flain : Thousand — thousand saints attending, Swell the triumph of his train : Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Jesus Chrift (hall ever reign !
See the universe in motion,
Sinking on her funeral pyre, — Earth difTolving, and the ocean
Vanifhing in final fire : —
Hark, the trumpet ! Hark, the trumpet !
Loud proclaims that Day of Ire !
Graves have yawn'd in countless numbers,-
From the duft the dead arise : Millions, out of filent (lumbers,
Wake in overwhelm'd surprise ;
Where creation, — Where creation,
Wreck'd and torn in ruin lies !
See the Judge our nature wearing,
Pure, ineffable, divine : — See the great Archangel bearing
90 Christ.
High in heaven the myftic fign : Cross of Glory ! Cross of Glory ! Chrift be in that moment mine !
See Redemption,* long expe&ed, In transcendant pomp appear, —
All his saints by man rejected,
Throng in gathering legions near :
Melt, ye mountains ! Melt, ye mountains !
Into smoke, — for God is here!
Every eye fhall then behold Him
Robed in awful majefty : — Those that set at naught, and sold Him,
Pierced and nail'd Him to a tree, —
Deeply wailing, — Deeply wailing,
Shall the true Mefliah see!
Lo ! the laft long separation !
As the cleaving crowds divide ; And one dread adjudication
Sends each soul to either fide !
Lord of mercy! Lord of mercy!
How fhall I that day abide !
Oh! may thine own Bride and Spirit Then avert a dreadful doom, —
And me summon to inherit An eternal blissful home : — * Romans viii. 23.
Christ. 9 1
Ah! come quickly! Ah! come quickly! Let thy second Advent come !
Yea, Amen ! Let all adore Thee,
On thine amaranthine throne ! Saviour, — take the power and glory,
Claim the kingdom for thine own !
Men and angels : Men and angels,
Kneel and bow to Thee alone !
Brydges.
Tinctam ergo Cbristi sanguine.
OH, turn those bleiTed points, all bathed In Jesu's blood, on me ; Mine were the fins that wrought his death, Mine be the penalty.
Pierce through my feet, my hands, my heart;
So may some drop diftill Of blood divine, into my soul,
And all its evils heal.
So mail my feet be flow to fin,
Harmless my hands fhall be ; So from my wounded heart fhall each
Forbidden paffion flee.
Breviary.
92
MOST HOLY NAME OF JESUS.
OH ! that it ras wont to be,
When thv old friends of fire, all full of Thee, Fought againft frowns with smiles ! gave ^orious chase To persecutions, and againft the : Of death and fierceft dangers durft, with brave Ar.i >:oer pace march on to meet a grave. On their bold breafts about the world they bore Thee. And to the teeth of hell flood up to teach Thee j In centre of their inmoft souls they wore The ^ -ere ricks and torments ftrived in vain to reach Thee. Each wound of theirs was thy new morning, And reenthroned Thee in thy rosy neft. V^ ;:h blufh of thine own blood thy day adorning It was the wh o: k>ye o'erflowed the bounds Of wrath, and made the way through all these wounds. Welcome, dear, all-adored name! For sure there is no knee That knows not Thee ;
Or, if there be such sons of fhame, Alas ! what will they do,
When ftubborn rocks fhall bow, And hills hang down their heaven-saluting heads, 7 ^eek for humble beds
Of duft, where, in the bafhful fhades of night, Xex: to their own low nothing they may lie,
Christ. 93
And crouch before the dazzling light of thy dread majefty ? They that by love's mild dictate now
Will not adore Thee, Shall then with just confufion bow,
And break before Thee.
Crashaw.
RISE— GLORIOUS CONQUEROR, RISE.
RISE — glorious Conqueror, rise ; Into thy native fkies, — AfTume thy right : And where in many a fold The clouds are backward roll'd — Pass through those gates of gold, And reign in light !
Victor o'er death and hell! Cherubic legions swell
The radiant train : Praises all heaven inspire ; Each angel sweeps his lyre, And waves his wings of fire, —
Thou Lamb once slain !
Enter, Incarnate God ! — No feet, but thine, have trod The serpent down :
94 Christ.
Blow the full trumpets, blow ! Wider yon portals throw ! Saviour — triumphant — go, And take thy crown !
Lion of Judah — Hail ! — And let thy name prevail
From age to age : Lord of the rolling years, — Claim for thine own the spheres, For Thou hast bought with tears
Thy heritage !
Yet — who are these behind, In numbers more than mind
Can count or sav — Clothed in immortal stoles, Illumining the poles — A galaxy of souls,
In white array ?
And then was heard afar Star answering to star —
Lo ! these have come, Followers of Him, who gave His life, their lives to save ; And now their palms they wave,
Brought safely home.
Brydges.
Christ. 95
HEAD of the Hofts in glory ! We joyfully adore Thee, — Thy church on earth below, Blending with those on high, — Where through the azure sky Thy saints in ecftasy, — For ever glow !
Then raise the song of gladness, To diflipate our sadness —
Along this vale of tears : We wend our weary way Up towards the realms of day, — And watch, — and wait, — and pray,
Conftant in fears !
Holy Apoftles ! beaming
With radiance brightly ftreaming
From diadems of power j Call on the awful name, — That we, through flood and flame The gospel may proclaim
In every hour !
Martyrs ! — whose myftic legioris March o'er yon heavenly regions In triumph round and round ;
96 Christ.
Wave — wave your banners — wave ! For Christ — our Saviour, clave For Death itself a grave, — In hell profound !
Saints ! — in fair circles, cafting Rich trophies everlafting
At Jesu's pierced feet, — Amidst our rude alarms, Stretch forth your conquering arms, That we too, safe from harms,
In heaven may meet !
Virgins ! — in bliss transcendent, Whose coronals resplendent
Unwithering bloom : Exalt, in ceaseless lays, Him whom all anthems praise, And oft our spirits raise
With your perfume !
Angels — Archangels ! glorious Guards of the church victorious !
Sing to the Lamb ! Crown Him with crowns of light, — One of the Three by right, — Love, — Majesty, — and Might, —
The Great I am !
Brydges.
1
Christ. 97
"AND JESUS WEPT." St. John xi. 35.
BRIGHT were the mornings first impearPd O'er earth, and sea, and air ; The birthdays of a rifing world — For power divine was there.
But fairer shone the tears of Christ
For Lazarus, o'er his grave ; Since love divine bedew'd the sod
Of one He sought to save.
Sweet drops of grace, the pledges given
Of Mercy's mighty plan, — That He, who was the Prince of heaven,
Had pity upon man !
Let us thy dear example, Lord,
Fix'd in our memories keep, — That we, obedient to thy word,
May weep with those that weep.
Brydges,
98 Christ.
BRIGHT cherubim and seraphim, In one myfterious crowd, Expand the everlafting hymn That rolls from cloud to cloud.
Odors, in folds of fragrant fumes,
Pervade the ravifh'd fkies ; Whilst angels form, with arching plumes,
A firmament of eyes ! *
They gaze, and as they gaze, they shine,
And as they shine, admire, With adoration all divine, —
All love,— all life,— all fire !
No temple there is made with hands
By human priefthood trod ; Alone the once-slain Victim stands,
The living Lamb of God !
Brydges.
* Ezek. i. 18-23 : x- I3« Apocal. iv. 8.
Christ.
99
§>uicunque Christum qu&ritis.
ALL ye who seek, in hope and love, For your dear Lord, look up above! Where, traced upon the azure fky, Faith may a glorious form descry.
Lo ! on the trembling verge of light A something all divinely bright! Immortal, infinite, sublime ! Older than chaos, space, or time !
Hail, Thou, the Gentiles' mighty Lord! All hail, O Israel's King adored ! To Abraham sworn in ages paft, And to his seed while earth shall laft.
To Thee the prophets witness bear \ Of Thee the Father doth declare, That all who would his glory see, Mull hear and muff believe in Thee.
Breviary.
100 Saints^ Martyrs^ '<fc.
SAINTS, MARTYRS, &c.
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
Antra deserti teneris sub annis.
IN caves of the lone wilderness thy youth Thou hiddeft, fhunning the rude throng of men, And guarding the pure treasure of thy soul From the leaft touch of fin.
There to thy sacred limbs the camel gave A garment coarse ; the rock a bed supplied ; The Itream thy thirft ; locufts and honey wild Thy hunger satisfied.
Oh, bleft beyond the Prophets of old time !
They of the Saviour sang that was to be :
Him present to announce, and show to all, Was granted but to thee.
Through the wide earth was never mortal man Born holier than John ; to whom was given The guilty world's Baptizer to baptize, And ope the door of Heaven.
Breviary.
Saints^ Martyrs , &c. 101
CHRIST.
Cbriste, sanctorum dccut angelorum.
O CHRIST ! the beauty of the angel worlds ! Of man the Saviour and Redeemer bleft ! Grant us one day to mount the path of light, And in thy glory reft.
Angel of Peace ! thou, Michael, from above, Come down, amid the homes of man to dwell ; And banish wars, with all their tears and blood, Back to their native Hell.
Angel of Strength ! thou, Gabriel, caft out Thine ancient foes, usurpers of thy reign ; The temples of thy triumph round the globe Revifit once again.
And Raphael, Physician of the soul, — Let him descend from his pure halls of light, To heal the Tick, and guide each doubtful course Through all our life aright.
Thou too, O Virgin, with the angel choirs, Mother of Light, and Queen of Peace ! descend And bring with thee the radiant Court of Heaven Thy children to befriend.
Breviary.
102 Saints y Martyrs, &c.
OF MANY MARTYRS. Sanctorum meritis inclyta gaudia.
SING we the peerless deeds of martyr'd Saints, Their glorious merits, and their portion bleft ; Of all the conquerors the world has seen, The greateft and the beft.
Them in their day th' insensate world abhorr'd, Because they did forsake it, Lord, for Thee ; Finding it all a barren wafte, devoid Of fruit, or flower, or tree.
They trod beneath them every threat of man, And came victorious all torments through ; The iron hooks, which piecemeal tore their flesh, Could not their souls subdue.
Scourged, crucified, like fheep to flaughter led, Unmurmuring they met their cruel fate ; For conscious innocence their souls upheld, In patient virtue great.
What tongue those joys, O Jesus, can disclose, Which for thy martyr'd Saints Thou doll: prepare ! Happy who in thy pains, thrice happy those Who in thy glory mare !
Saints , Martyrs , &c. 1 03
Our faults, our fins, our miseries remove, Great Deity supreme, immortal King ! Grant us thy peace, grant us thine endless love Through endless years to fing.
Breviary.
Sterna Christi munera.
THE Lord's eternal gifts, Th' Apoftles' mighty praise, Their victories, and high reward, Sing we in joyful lays.
Lords of the churches they ; Triumphant Chiefs of war ; Brave Soldiers of the Heavenly Court ; True lights for evermore.
Theirs was the Saints' high Faith ; And quenchless Hope's pure glow ; And perfect Charity, which laid The world's fell tyrant low.
In them the Father fhone ; In them the Son o'ercame ; In them the Holy Spirit wrought, And fill'd their hearts with flame.
Breviary.
104 Saints ) Martyrs , &c.
ST. STEPHEN.
0 qui tuo dux Marty rum.
O CAPTAIN of the Martyr Hoft ! O peerless in renown ! Not from the fading flowers of earth Weave we for thee a crown.
The ftones that smote thee, in thy blood
Made glorious and divine, All in a halo heavenly bright
About thy temples mine.
The scars upon thy sacred brow Throw beams of glory round ;
The splendors of thy bruised face The very sun confound.
Oh, earlieft Victim sacrificed
To thy dear Victim Lord ! Oh, earlieft witness to the Faith
Of thy Incarnate God !
Thou to the heavenly Canaan firft Through the Red Sea didft go,
And to the Martyrs' countless Hoft, Their path of glory mow.
Saints^ Martyrs^ &c. 105
Erewhile a servant of the poor, —
Now at the Lamb's high Feaft, In blood-empurpled robe array'd,
A welcome nuptial gueft !
Breviary.
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
O nimis felix meritique celsi.
O BLESSED Saint, of snow-white purity ! Dweller in waftes forlorn ! O mightieft of the Martyr hoft on high ! Greatest of Prophets born !
Of all the diadems that on the brows
Of Saints in glory mine, Not one with brighter, purer halo glows,
In Heaven's high Court, than thine.
Oh ! upon us thy tender, pitying gaze
Caft down from thy dread throne ; Straighten our crooked, smooth our rugged ways,
And break our hearts of flone.
So may the world's Redeemer find us meet
To offer Him a place, Where He may set his ever-bleffed feet
Coming with gifts of grace.
Breviary.
Io6 Saints^ Martyrs^ £s\r.
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER.
LO ! on the dope of yonder fhore Beneath that lonely fhed, — A saint hath found his conflicts o'er, And laid his dying head !
No gloom of fear hath glazed his eye, For though loud billows roll, —
The Aurora of Eternity Is rifing on his soul.
The glorious Saviour of his love
Receives him in his arms, And bears him, like a ransom'd dove,
Away from all alarms !
Champion of Jesus ! — man of God, Servant of Chrift, well done !
Thy path of thorns hath now been trod, Thy red-cross crown is won !
O'er the wide wafte of watery waves, And leagues on leagues of land,
Amidft a wilderness of graves, With death on every hand, —
Saints, Martyrs, &c. 1 07
He flew to woo and win a world ;
That men might kiss the feet Of Him, whose banner he unfurl'd, —
Father, — Son, — Paraclete !
His tongue, the Spirit's two-edged sword,
Had magic in its blade, — For while it smote with every word,
It heal'd the wounds it made !
His lips were love, his touch was power,
His thoughts were vivid flame, The flames of a thunder-mower —
Where'er, or when they came !
Around him fhone the light of life,
Before him darkness fell — Satan receded from the flrife,
And sought his native hell !
Yet, who so humbly walk'd as he,
A conqueror in the field, Wreathing the rose of victory
Around his radiant shield ?
As filvery clouds, at eventide,
Float on the balmy gale, Nor seem to heed the ftars they hide
Behind their fleecy veil ;
108 Saints, Martyrs, &c.
So lowly sense of flighteft worth Frefh graces o'er him threw ;
For he unconscious lived on earth, Of all the praise he drew !
Champion of Jesus ! on that breaft From whence thy fervor flow'd,
Thou haft obtain'd eternal reft, The bosom of thy God !
Brydges.
ST. ELIZABETH, QUEEN OF PORTUGAL. Domare cordis impetus Elizabeth.
PURE, meek, with soul serene, Sweeter to her it was to serve unseen Her God, than reign a queen.
Now far above our fight, Enthroned upon the azure ftar-paved height, She reigns in realms of light ;
So long as time mail flow, Teaching to all who sit on thrones below, The good that power can do.
Breviary.
Saints, Martyrs, &c. 109
MARTYRDOM OF ST. LUCY.
WE watch'd, as she lingered all the day Beneath the torturer's fkill ; And we pray'd that the spirit might pass away,
And the weary frame be ftill. 'Twas a long (harp ftruggle from darkness to light,
And the pain was fierce and sore ; But she, we knew, in her lateft fight Muft be more than conqueror !
Oh, what a change had the prison wrought
Since we gazed upon her laft ! And mournful the leflbns her thin frame taught
Of the sufferings she had paft : Of pain and fickness — not of fear !
There was courage in her eye : And she enter'd the amphitheatre
As to triumph, and not to die!
And once, when we could not bear to see
Her sufferings, and turn'd the head, " His rod and His ftaff they comfort me,"
The virgin martyr said : It was near the setting of the sun,
And her voice wax'd faint and low ; And we knew that her race was well-nigh run,
And her time drew near to go.
1 10 Saints , Martyrs ^ &c.
We could almoft deem the clouds that roll'd
In the ruddy sun's decline To be chariots of fire and horses of gold
On the fteep of Mount Aventine : Yea, guardian angels bent their way
From their own fkies' cloudless blue, And a triumph more glorious was thine to-day
Than ever the Caesar knew !
We lay thee here in the narrow cell
Where thy friends and brethren fleep ; And we carve the palm, of thy lot to tell,
And we do not dare to weep. Hopefully wait we God's holy time
That fhall call us to fhare thy reft ; Till then, we muft dwell in an alien clime,
While thou art in Abraham's breaft.
Neale.
J
Saints, Martyrs, &c. ill
THE SISTER OF CHARITY.
SHE once was a lady of honor and wealth ; Bright glow'd in her features the roses of health ; Her vefture was blended of filk and of gold, And her motion fhook perfume from every fold : Joy revellM around her — love fhone at her fide, And gay was her smile as the glance of a bride ; And light was her ftep in the mirth-sounding hall, When fhe heard of the daughters of Vincent de Paul.
She felt in her spirit the summons of grace, That call'd her to live for her suffering race ; And, heedless of pleasure, of comfort, of home, Rose quickly, like Mary, and answer'd " I come." She put from her person the trappings of pride, And paff'd from her home with the joy of a bride, Nor wept at the threfhold as onward fhe moved — For her heart was on fire in the cause it approved.
Loft ever to fafhion — to vanity loft, That beauty that once was the song and the toaft — No more in the ball-room that figure we meet, But gliding at dufk to the wretch's retreat. Forgot in the halls is that high-sounding name, For the Sister of Charity blushes at fame :
U2 Saints, Martyrs, &c.
Forgot are the claims of her riches and birth, For me barters for heaven the glory of earth.
Those feet, that to music could gracefully move,
Now bear her alone on the million of love ;
Those hands, that once dangled the perfume and gem,
Are tending the helpless, or lifted for them ;
That voice, that once echo'd the song of the vain,
Now whispers relief to the bosom of pain ;
And the hair that was mining with diamond and pearl,
Is wet with the tears of the penitent girl.
Her down-bed, a pallet — her trinkets, a bead,
Her luftre — one taper, that serves her to read ;
Her sculpture — the crucifix nail'd by her bed ;
Her paintings, — one print of the thorn-crowned head ;
Her cufhion — the pavement that wearies her knees ;
Her mufic — the psalm, or the figh of disease :
The delicate lady lives mortified there,
And the feaft is forsaken for fafting and prayei.
Yet not to the service of heart and of mind,
Are the cares of that heaven-minded virgin confined :
Like Him whom she loves, to the manfions of grief
She haftes with the tidings of joy and relief.
She ftrengthens the weary — fhe comforts the weak,
And soft is her voice in the ear of the fick ;
Where want and affliction on mortals attend,
The Sifter of Charity there is a friend.
Saints, Martyrs, &c. 1 13
Unfhrinking where peftilence scatters his breath, Like an angel fhe moves, mid the vapors of death ; Where rings the loud mufket, and flames the sword, Unfearing fhe walks, for fhe follows her Lord. How sweetly fhe bends o'er each plague-tainted face, With looks that are lighted with holieft grace ; How kindly fhe dreffes each suffering limb, For fhe sees in the wounded the image of Him.
Behold her, ye worldly ! behold her, ye vain ! Who fhrink from the pathway of virtue and pain j WTho yield up to pleasure your nights and your days, Forgetful of service, forgetful of praise. Ye lazy philosophers, self-seeking men — Ye flrefide philanthropifts, great at the pen, How flands in the balance your eloquence weigh'd With the life and the deeds of that high-born maid ?
Griffin.
H
114 Saints, Martyrs, &f
MARTYRDOM OF THE INNOCENTS.
LOVELY flowers of martyrs, hail! Smitten by the tyrant foe On life's threfhold, — as the gale Strews the roses ere they blow.
Firft to die for Chrift, sweet lambs !
At the very altar ye, With your fatal crowns and palms,
Sport in your fimplicity.
Breviary.
IN MEMORIAM.
HOLY and innocent were all his ways ; Sweet, temperate, unftain'd ; His life was prayer, — his every breath was praise, While breath to him remain'd.
To God, of all the centre and the source,
Be power and glory given ; Who sways the mighty world through all its course,
From the bright throne of Heaven.
Breviary.
Saints, Martyrs, Is':. 1 15
ST. MARY MAGDALENE.
Pater superni luminis.
FATHER of lights ! one glance of Thine, Whose eyes the Universe control, Fills Magdalene with holy love, And melts the ice within her soul.
Her precious ointment forth fhe brings, Upon those sacred feet to pour ;
She wafhes them with burning tears ; And with her hair me wipes them o'er.
Impassioned to the Cross fhe clings ;
Nor fears befide the tomb to flay ; Of ruffian soldiers naught fhe recks,
For love has cart all fear away.
O Chrift, thou very Love itself!
Bleft hope of man, through Thee forgiven ! So touch our spirits from above,
And purify our souls for Heaven.
Breviary.
Ii6 Communion Service.
COMMUNION SERVICE.
LO ! upon the Altar lies, Hidden deep from human eyes, Bread of Angels from the fkies,
Made the food of mortal man : Children's meat to dogs denied j In old types forefignified In the manna Heaven-supplied, Isaac, and the Paschal Lamb.
Jesus ! Shepherd of the sheep ! Thou thy flock in safety keep. Living Bread ! thy life supply j Strengthen us, or else we die ;
Fill us with celeftial grace : Thou who feedeft us below ! Source of all we have or know ! Grant that with thy Saints above, Sitting at the feaft of love,
We may see Thee face to face.
Missal,
1 1"
ASPIRATi: TER COMMUNION.
PRYE, my ; - ;.- reserve
My soul to everlafting . Oh, may this bleft communi:
To aid my soul in paffion's ftr:' Oh, may thy body, may thy blood, Be to my soul a saving food, To fill it ftill with life and grace, And every ilnful ftain eff-ce
To bless Thee be my sole empi.
My God^ my Saviour, great and kir : Inflame my heart with holy j
Teach me, in praiiing Thee, to rind Warm thoughts and feelings warm, whose glow Mj rratitude may aptly £how. But no, my God ! nor word, nor thought, Could bless and praise Thee sic qgbt.
praise e;e mine. Do Thou inspire ^:>ul with love and living fire. Oh, may this cold and lowly breaft Be warm'd by Thee, its God, its gueft. May it by Thee be moved to love, And :_ght thy saving grace to improve. Take, then, my thoughts from all but Thee.
To Thee, n puke :r.id.
Ii8 Communion Service.
What 'vails to tell my misery?
I have my God — my gueft — my friend : So be His praise my only theme ! All wants my Saviour will redeem. My Saviour knows whate'er I need — He gives Himself: and mail I plead For other boons ? No ! let me raise Mine ev'ry thought in love and praise. Dear Lord, no other prayer I form Than for devotion pure and warm. May warm devotion fill my soul ; May love for Thee each thought control ; May piety increase ; and prayer Mine ev'ry thought, word, action fhare ; The gift of love my sole requeft — Thou, God of love ! wilt grant the reft.
Dear Lord ! may this Communion prove A never-failing bond of love. Forgive my coldness, and supply Mine every weak deficiency. May thy beft grace suffice for all, And every wayward sense enthrall : Such grace on every feeling pour As ne'er may leave thy servant more : Each hope, each impulse firmly bind In grace to Thee, my Saviour kind : Such saving grace, dear Lord, be given As leads the happy soul to heaven.
J. R. Beste.
Dedication of a Church. 119
DEDICATION OF A CHURCH.
Alto ex Olympi <vertice.
FROM higheft Heaven, the Father's Son, Descending like that myftic ftone Cut from a mountain without hands, Came down below, and filled all lands ; Uniting, midway in the iky, His House on earth, and House on high.
That House on high, — it ever rings With praises of the King of kings ; For ever there, on harps divine, They hymn th' eternal One and Trine ; We, here below, the ftrain prolong, And faintly echo Sion's song.
O Lord of lords invifible ! With thy pure light this temple fill : Hither, oft as invoked, descend ; Here to thy people's prayer attend : Here, through all hearts, for evermore, The Spirit's quick'ning graces pour.
120 Dedication of a Church.
Here may the Faithful, day by day, In kneeling adoration pray ; And here receive from thy dear love The bleffin^s of that home above ; Till, loosen'd from this mortal chain, Its everlafting joys they gain.
Breviary.
Ccelestis urbs Jerusalem.
JERUSALEM, thou City bleft ! Dear vifion of celeftial reft! Which far above the ftarry iky, Piled up with living ftones on high, Art, as a Bride, encircled bright, With million angel forms of light :
Oh, wedded in a prosperous hour ! The Father's glory was thy dower ; The Spirit all His graces fhed, Thou peerless Queen, upon thy head ; When Chrift espoused thee for his Bride, O City bright and glorified !
Thy gates a pearly luftre pour ; Thy gates are open evermore ;
Dedication of a Church. J 21
And thither evermore draw nigh All who for Chrift have dared to die ; Or smit with love of their dear Lord, Have pains endured, and joys abhorr'd.
Thou too, O Church, which here we see! No easy tafk hath builded thee. Long did the chisels ring around ! Long did the mallets' blows rebound ! Long work'd the head and toil'd the hand ! Ere flood thy ftones as now they ftand !
Breviary.
122 Miscellaneous,
MISCELLANEOUS.
THE ASCENSION.
WHY is thy face so lit with smiles, Mother of Jesus ! why ? And wherefore is thy beaming look So fixed upon the fky ?
From out thine overflowing eyes
Bright lights of gladness part, As though some gufhing fount of joy
Had broken in thy heart.
Alother ! how canft thou smile to-day ?
How can thine eyes be bright, When He, thy Life, thy Love, thine All,
Hath vanifh'd from thy fight ?
His rifing form on Olivet
A summer's fhadow caft ; The branches of the hoary trees
Droop'd as the fhadow pafPd.
Miscellaneous. 1 23
And as He rose with all his train
Of righteous souls around, His blefling fell into thine heart,
Like dew into the ground.
Down ftoop'd a filver cloud from heaven,
The Eternal Spirit's car, And on the leflening vifion went,
Like some receding ftar.
The silver cloud hath sail'd away,
The fkies are blue and free ; The road that vifion took is now
Sunfhine and vacancy.
The Feet which thou haft kiff'd so oft, Those living Feet, are gone ;
Mother ! thou canft but ftoop and kiss Their print upon the ftone.
Yes ! He hath left thee, Mother dear !
His throne is far above ; How canft thou be so full of joy
When thou haft loft thy Love ?
O surely earth's poor sunfhine now To thee mere gloom appears,
When He is gone who was its light For Three-and-Thirty Years.
1 24 Miscellaneous.
Why do not thy sweet hands detain
His Feet upon their way ? O why doth not the Mother speak
And bid her Son to flay ?
Ah no ! thy love is rightful love,
From all self-seeking free ; The change that is such gain to Him
Can be no loss to thee !
'Tis sweet to feel our Saviour's love,
To feel his presence near ; Yet loyal love his glory holds
A thousand times more dear.
Who would have known the way to love
Our Jesus as we ought, If thou in varied joy and woe
Hadft not that leflbn taught ?
Ah ! never is our love so pure
As when refined by pain, Or when God's glory upon earth
Finds in our loss its gain !
True love is worfhip : Mother dear !
O gain for us the light To love, because the creature's love
Is the Creator's right !
Faber.
Miscellaneous. 125
HYMN TO MY GUARDIAN ANGEL.
(For Children.)
DEAR Angel! ever at my fide, How loving muft thou be To leave thy home in Heaven to guard A little child like me.
Thy beautiful and mining face
I see not, though so near ; The sweetness of thy soft low voice
I am too deaf to hear.
I cannot feel thee touch my hand With preflure light and mild,
To check me, as my mother did When I was but a child.
But I have felt thee in my thoughts
Fighting with fin for me ; And when my heart loves God, I know
The sweetness is from thee.
And when, dear Spirit! I kneel down Morning and night to prayer,
Something there is within my heart Which tells me thou art there.
126 Miscellaneous.
Yes ! when I pray thou prayeit too— Thv prayer is all for me ;
But when I sleep, thou sleepeft not, But watcheft patiently.
Ah me ! how lovelv thev muft be
Whom God has glorified ; Ye: one of them, O sweeteft thought!
Is ever at mv Tide,
And thou in life's laft hour wilt bring
A freth sup;//.- : : /rice, And afterwards wilt let me k:<s
Thv beautiful bright face.
Then for thv sake, dear Angel ! now
More humble will I be : But I am weak, and when I fall,
O wean* not for me :
Then love me, love me, Angel dear !
And I will love thee more ; And help me when my soul is cart
Upon the eternal £hore.
MisctUam
HYMN OF THE CALABRIAX SHEPHERDS.
DARKER and darker fall around The fhadows from the pine ; It is the hour with hymn and prayer To gather round thy fhrine.
Hear us, sweet Mother ! thou haft known
Our earthly hopes and fears, The bitterness of mortal toil
The tenderness of tears.
We prav thee firft for absent ones, Those who knelt with us here —
The father, brother, and the son, The diftant and the dear.
We pray thee for the little bark
Upon the ftormy sea ; Affection's anxiousness of love,
Is it not known to thee r
The soldier, he who only sleeps
His head upon his brand, Who only in a dream can see
His own beloved land.
128 Miscellaneous.
The wandering Minftrel, he who gave Thy hymns his earlieft tone,
Who strives to teach a foreign tongue The mufic of his own.
Kind Mother, let them see again
Their own Italian more ; Back to the home, which wanting them,
Seems like a home no more.
Madonna, keep the cold north wind
Amid his native seas, So that no withering blight come down
Upon our olive trees.
And bid the sunfhine glad our hills,
The dew rejoice our vines, And bid the healthful sea-breeze sweep
In mufic through the pines.
Pray for us that our hearts and homes
Be kept in fear and love ; Love for all things around our path,
And fear for those above.
Thy soft blue eyes are fill'd with tears,
Oh ! let them wafh away The soil of our unworthiness : —
Pray for us. Mother, pray!
Miscellaneous. 129
We know how vain the fleeting flowers
Around thine altar hung ; We know how humble is the hymn
Before thine image sung.
But wilt thou not accept the wreath,
And sanctify the lay ; We truft to thee our hopes and fears, —
Pray for us, Mother, pray !
Stabat Mater dolorosa.
AT the Cross her ftation keeping, Stood the mournful Mother weeping, Close to Jesus to the laft : Through her heart, his sorrow fharing, All his bitter anguifh bearing,
Now at length the sword had pafPd.
Oh, how sad and sore diftreiPd Was that Mother highly bleft
Of the sole-begotten One ! Chrift above in torment hangs ; She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son. 1
130 Miscellaneous.
Is there one who would not weep, Whelm'd in miseries so deep
Chrift's dear Mother to behold? Can the human heart refrain From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother's pain untold ?
Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled, She beheld her tender Child
All with bloody scourges rent ; For the fins of his own nation, Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till his Spirit forth He sent.
O thou Mother ! fount of love ! Touch my spirit from above.
Make my heart with thine accord : Make me feel as thou haft felt ; Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Chrift my Lord.
Breviary.
$m$
1
Miscellaneous. 1 3 1
PORTUGUESE HYMN.
STAR of the wide and pathless sea, Who loveft on mariners to mine, These votive garments wet, to thee We hang, within thy holy fhrine. When o'er us flafh'd the surging brine, Amid the warring waters tofPd,
From earthly aid we turn'd to thine, And hoped, when other hope was loft. Ave Maris Stella !
Star of the vaft and howling main,
When dark and lone is all the fky, And mountain waves o'er ocean's plain,
Erect their ftormy heads on high ;
When matrons by the hearthftone figh, They raise their weeping eyes to thee ;
The ftar of ocean heeds their cry, And saves the foundering bark at sea. Ave Maris Stella!
Star of the dark and ftormy sea,
When, wreaking tempefts round us rave
Thy gentle virgin form we see, Bright rifing o'er the hoary wave.
132 Miscellaneous .
The howling ftorms that seem to crave Their victims, fink in mufic sweet \
The surging seas recede, to pave The path beneath thy gliftening feet. Ave Maris Stella !
Star of the desert waters wild,
Who, pitying, hear'ft the seaman's cry, The Lord of Mercy, as a child,
On that chafte bosom loved to lie ;
While soft the chorus of the fky Their hymns of tender mercy fing,
And angel voices named on high The Mother of the Heavenly King. Ave Maris Stella!
Star of the deep ! at that bleft name
The waves fleep filent round the keel, The tempefts wild their fury tame,
That made the deep foundations reel ;
The soft celeftial accents fteal So soothing through the realms of woe,
That suffering souls a respite feel From torture in the depths below. Ave Maris Stella !
Star of the mild and placid seas,
Whom rainbow rays of mercy crown,
Whose name thy faithful Portuguese, O'er all that to the depths go down,
Miscellaneous. 133
With hymns of grateful transport own ; When gathering clouds obscure their light,
And heaven afTumes an awful frown, The ftar of ocean glitters bright. Ave Maris Stella !
Star of the deep ! when angel lyres
To hymn thy holy name efTay, In vain a mortal harp aspires
To mingle in the mighty lay !
Mother of Chrift ! one living ray Of hope our grateful bosoms fires,
When ftorms and tempefts pass away, To join the bright immortal choirs. Ave Maris Stella !
THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST.
NO track is on the sunny fky, No footprints on the air ; Jesus hath gone ; the face of earth Is desolate and bare.
The blefTed feet of Mary's Son, They tread the ftreets no more ;
His soul-converting voice gives not Its mufic as before.
1 34 Miscellaneous.
His Mother fits all worfhipful
With her majeftic mien ; The princes of the infant Church
Are gather'd round their Queen.
They gaze on her with raptured eyes,
Her features are like his, Her presence is their ample ftrength,
Her face reflects their bliss.
That Upper Room is heaven on earth ;
Within its precincts lie All that earth has of faith, or hope,
Or heaven-born charity.
The Eye of God looks down on them,
His love is centred there ; His Spirit yearns to be o'ercome
By their sweet ftrife of prayer.
The Mother prays her mighty prayer,
In accents meek and faint, And higheft heaven is quick to own
The beautiful conftraint.
The Eternal Son takes up the prayer
Upon his royal throne ; The Son his human Mother hears,
The Sire his holy Son.
Faber.
Miscellaneous, 135
THOU ART OF ALL CREATED THINGS.
THOU art of all created things, O Lord, the eflence and the cause — The source and centre of all bliss ; What are those veils of woven light, Where sun and moon and ftars unite — The purple morn, the spangled night — But curtains which thy mercy draws Between the heavenly world and this ? The terrors of the sea and land — When all the elements conspire, The earth and water, ftorm and fire — Are but the fketches of thy hand ; Do they not all in countless ways — The lightning's flam — the howling ftorm — The dread volcano's awful blaze — Proclaim thy glory and thy praise ? Beneath the sunny summer mowers Thy love afTumes a milder form, And writes its angel name in flowers ; The wind that flies with winged feet Around the grafly gladden'd earth, Seems but commiflion'd to repeat In echo's accents — filvery sweet —
i36
Miscellaneous.
That Thou, O Lord, didfl give it birth. There is a tongue in every flame — There is a tongue in everv wave — To these the bounteous Godhead gave These organs but to praise his name !
w§m^
LYRA GERMANICA.
Lyra Germanica. 139
LYRA GERMANICA.
FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT.
The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light.
From the Epistle.
O WATCHMAN will the night of fin Be never parr. ? O watchman, doth the day begin To dawn upon thy {training fight at laft ?
Will it dispel Ere long the mifts of sense wherein I dwell ?
Now all the earth is bright and glad
With the frefh morn ; But all my heart is cold, and dark, and sad ; Sun of the soul, let me behold thy dawn !
Come Jesus, Lord ! Oh, quickly come, according to thy word !
140 Lyra Germanica,
Do we not live in those bleft days
So long foretold, When Thou fhouldft come to bring us light and grace ? And yet I fit in darkness as of old,
Pining- to see
o
Thy glory ; but Thou ftill art far from me.
Long fince Thou cam'ft to be the light
Of all men here ; And yet in me is nought but blacked night. Wilt Thou not then to me, thine own, appear?
Shine forth and bless My soul with vifion of thy righteousness !
If thus in darkness ever left,
Can I fulfil The works of light, while of all light bereft ? How fhall I learn in love and meekness ftill
To follow Thee, And all the finful works of darkness flee ?
The light of reason cannot give
Life to my soul ; Jesus alone can .make me truly live, One glance of his can make my spirit whole.
Arise, and mine On this poor longing, waiting heart of mine !
Single and clear, not weak or blind, The eye muft be,
Lyra Germanlca. 141
To which thy glory fhall an entrance find ; For if thy chosen ones would gaze on Thee,
No earthly screen Between their souls and Thee rauft intervene.
Jesus, do Thou mine eyes unseal,
And let them grow Quick to discern whate'er Thou doft reveal, So fhall I be deliver'd from that woe,
Blindly to ftray Through hopeless night, while all around is day.
Ricbter, 1704.
FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT.
Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say unto you, Rejoice . . . The Lord is at hand.
From the Epistle.
LIFT up your heads, ye mighty gates, Behold the King of glory waits, The King of kings is drawing near, The Saviour of the world is here ; Life and salvation doth He bring, Wherefore rejoice, and gladly Ting Praise, O my God, to Thee ! Creator, wise is thy decree !
142 Lyra Germanic a.
The Lord is juft, a helper tried,
Mercy is ever at his fide,
His Kingly crown is holiness,
His sceptre, pity in diftress, The end of all our woe He brings ; Wherefore the earth is glad and fings
Praise, O my God, to Thee !
O Saviour, great thy deeds fhall be !
O bled: the land, the city bleft,
Where Chrift the Ruler is confeft ! O happy hearts, and happy homes, To whom this King in triumph comes ! The cloudless Sun of joy He is, Who bringeth pure delight and bliss ; Praise, O mv God, to thee ! Comforter, for thv comfort free !
Fling wide the portals of your heart, Make it a temple, set apart From earthlv use for Heaven's employ, Adorn'd with prayer, and love, and joy
So fhall your Sovereign enter in,
And new and nobler life begin. Praise, O my God, be thine, For word, and deed, and grace divine.
Redeemer, come! I open wide
My heart to Thee ; here, Lord, abide ! Let me thy inner presence feel,
Lyra Germanica. J 43
Thy grace and love in me reveal,
Thy Holy Spirit guide us on
Until our glorious goal be won ! Eternal praise and fame, Be offer'd, Saviour, to thy name !
JVeiszel. 1635.
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY.
I have seen, I have seen the afflictions of my people.
From the Lesson.
FEAR not, O little flock, the foe Who madlv seek your overthrow, Dread not his rage and power. What though your courage sometimes faints, His seeming triumph o'er God's saints Lafts but a little hour.
Be of good cheer ; your cause belongs To Him who can avenge your wrongs
Leave it to Him, our Lord. Though hidden yet from all our eyes, He sees the Gideon who fhall rise
To save us, and his word.
44 Lyra Germ:.
As true as God's own word is true, Not earth or hell with all their crew
Againft us fhall prevail. A jeft and byword are they grown ; God is with us, we are his own,
Our viciorv cannot fail.
/\men, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer : Great Captain, now thine arm make bare ;
Fight for us once again ! So fhall the saints and martyrs raise A mightv chorus to thy praise,
World without end. Amen.
Altenburg.
Gujlavus ddolphus's Battle-S:n~, 163 1.
_
Lyra Ger?nanica. 145
INNOCENTS' DAY.
Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Matt. 18 : 3.
DEAR Soul, couldft thou become a child While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, Then God himself were ever near, And Paradise around thee here.
A child cares nought for gold or treasure, Nor fame nor glory yield him pleasure ; In perfect truit, he aslceth not If rich or poor fhall be his lot.
Little he recks of dignity Nor prince nor monarch feareth he ; Strange that a child so weak and small Is oft the boldeft of us all !
He hath not fkill to utter lies, His very soul is in his eyes ; Single his aim in all, and true, And apt to praise what others do.
No quesftions dark his spirit vex, No faithless doubts his soul perplex, Simply from day to day he lives, Content with what the present gives.
J
46 Lyra Germamca.
Scarce can he ftand alone, far less Would roam abroad in loneliness ; Faft clinging to his mother ftill She bears and leads him at her will.
He will not ftay to pause and choose, His father's guidance e'er refuse, Thinks not of danger, fears no harm, Wrapt in obedience' holy calm.
For ftrange concerns he careth nought ; What others do, although were wrought Before his eyes the worft offence, Stains not his tranquil innocence.
His deareft work, his beft delight, Is, lying in his mother's fight, To gaze forever on her face, And neftle in her fond embrace.
O childhood's innocence! The voice Of thy deep wisdom is my choice ! Who hath thy love is truly wise And precious in our Father's eyes.
Spirit of childhood ! loved of God, By Jesus' spirit now beftowed ; How often have I long'd for thee ; O Jesus, form thyself in me !
Lyra Germanica. 147
And help me to become a child While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, That I may find God always near, And Paradise around me here.
Gerhardt Terjieegen. 1 731.
THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.
Hymn for Neiv Tear's Day.
So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Psalm 90: 12.
ETERNITY ! Eternity ! How long art thou, Eternity ! And yet to thee Time haftes away, Like as the war-horse to the fray, Or swift as couriers homeward go, Or fhip to port, or fhaft from bow. Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Eternity ! Eternity ! How long art thou, Eternity ! P'or even as on a perfect sphere End nor beginning can appear,
148 Lyra Germanica.
Even so, Eternity, in thee Entrance nor exit can there be. Ponder, O man, Eternity!
Eternity ! Eternity!
How long art thou, Eternity!
A circle infinite art thou,
Thy centre an Eternal Now,
Never, we name thy outward bound,
For never end therein is found.
Ponder, O man, Eternity!
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity !
A little bird with fretting beak
Might wear to nought the loftieft peak,
Though but each thousand years it came,
Yet thou wert then, as now, the same.
Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity !
As long as God is God, so long
Endure the pains of hell and wrong,
So long the joys of heaven remain -,
Oh lading joy, Oh Lifting pain !
Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity !
Lyra Germanica. 149
They who lived poor and naked, reft With God for ever rich and bleft, And love and praise the higheft good, In perfect bliss and gladsome mood. Ponder, O man, Eternity!
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity!
Who ponders oft on thee is wise,
All fleshly lufts fhall he despise,
The world finds place with him no more;
The love of vain delights is o'er.
Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity!
Who marks thee well would say to God,
Here, judge, burn, smite me with thy rod,
Here, let me all thy juftice bear,
When time of grace is paft, then spare !
Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Eternity ! Eternity !
How long art thou, Eternity!
Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee,
O man, that oft thou think on me,
The sinner's punifhment and pain,
To them who love their God, rich gain !
Ponder, O man, Eternity !
Wulffer. 1648.
150 Lyra Germanica.
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.
Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon the earth be- neath ; for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment, and the people that dwell therein shall die in like manner ; but my salvation shall be for ever, and my righteousness shall not be abolished.
From the Lesson.
OD liveth ever ! Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! Our God is good, in every place
His love is known, his help is found, His mighty arm, and tender grace
Bring good from ills that hem us round. Eafier than we think can He Turn to joy our agony. Soul, remember 'mid thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever ! Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! Say, fhall He (lumber, fhall He fleep,
Who gave the eye its power to see ? Shall He not hear his children weep
Who made the ear so wondroufly ? God is God ; He sees and hears All their troubles, all their tears.
Lyra Germanica. 151
Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever !
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never ! He who can earth and heaven control,
Who spreads the clouds o'er sea and land, Whose presence fills the mighty Whole
In each true heart is close at hand. Love Him, He will surely send Help and joy that never end. Soul, remember in thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever !
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never. Scarce canft thou bear thy cross? Then fly
To Him where only reft is sweet ; Thy God is great, his mercy nigh
His ftrength upholds the tottering feet. Truft Him, for his grace is sure, Ever doth his truth endure ; Soul, forget not in thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever !
O my Soul, despair thou never ! When fins and follies long forgot
Upon thy tortured conscience prey, O come to God, and fear Him not,
1 52 Lyra Germanica.
His love fhall sweep them all away. Pains of hell at look of his, Change to calm content and bliss. Soul, forget not in thy pain, God o'er all doth ever reign.
God liveth ever !
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! Those whom the thoughtless world forsakes,
Who ftand bewilder'd with their woe, God gently to his bosom takes,
And bids them all his fulness know. In thy sorrows' swelling flood Own his hand who seeks thy good. Soul, forget not in thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever !
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never! Let earth and heaven outworn with age,
Sink to the chaos whence they came ; Let angry foes againft us rage,
Let hell moot forth his fierceft flame ; Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrufts, God defends who in Him trulls ; Soul, remember in thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever ! W7herefore, Soul, despair thou, never !
Lyra Germanica. 153
What though thou tread with bleeding feet
A thorny path of grief and gloom, Thy God will choose the way moil meet
To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home. For this life's long night of sadness He will give thee peace and gladness. Soul, forget not in thy pains, God o'er all for ever reigns.
Zihn. 1682.
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.
For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven ; and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater : so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.
From the Lesson.
THY Word, O Lord, like gentle dews, Falls soft on hearts that pine ; Lord, to thy garden ne'er refuse This heavenly balm of thine. Water'd from Thee Let every tree Bud forth and bloflbm to thy praise, And bear much fruit in after days.
154 Lyra Germamca.
Thv Word is like a flaming sword,
A wedge that cleaveth ftone ; Keen as a hre so burns thv Word And pierceth flefh and bone. Le: it go forth O'er ail the earth To purify all hearts within And {hatter all the might of sin.
Thv Word a wondrous guiding liar,
On pilgrim hearts doth rise,
Leads to their Lord who dwell afar,
And makes the iimple wise.
Le: not its light
E'er fink in night,
But ftill in even' spirit fhine,
That none mav miss thy light divine.
Anon,
Lyra Germanica. J 5
::
QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY.
And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight, thy faith hath saved thee : and immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God. From the Gospel.
MY Saviour, what Thou didft of old When Thou waft dwelling here, Thou doeft yet for them, who, bold
In faith, to Thee draw near. As Thou hadll pitv on the blind,
According to thv Word, Thou sufferedit. me thy grace to find, Thy Light hail: on me pour'd.
Mourning I sat befide the way,
In fightless gloom apart, And sadness heavv on me lav,
And longing gnaw'd my heart ; I heard the mufic of the psalms
Thy people sang to Thee, I felt the waving of their palms,
And yet I could not see.
My pain grew more than I could bear,
Too keen my grief became, Then I took heart in mv despair
To call upon thv name j " O Son of David, save and heal,
As Thou so oft haft done !
156 Lyra Germanica.
O deareft Jesus, let me feel
My load of darkness gone."
And ever weeping as I spoke
With bitter prayers and fighs, My ftony heart grew soft and broke,
More earned yet my cries. A sudden answer ftill'd my fear,
For it was said to me, O poor blind man, be of good cheer,
Rejoice, He calleth thee."
(C
I felt, Lord, that Thou flooded ftill,
Groping thy feet I sought, From off me fell my old self-will,
A change came o'er my thought. Thou saidft, " What is it Thou wouldft have ? "
" Lord, that I might have fight \ To see thy countenance I crave : "
" So be it, have thou Light."
And words of thine can never fail,
My fears are paft and o'er ; My soul is glad with light, the veil
Is on my heart no more. Thou blefTefr me, and forth I fare
Free from my old disgrace, And follow on with joy where'er
Thy footfteps, Lord, I trace.
De La Motte Fouque.
Lyra Germanica. 157
SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT.
And the disciples said, Send her away, for she crieth after us ; .... But he said, Great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as thou wilt. From the Gospel.
I WILL not let Thee go ; Thou Help in time of need ! Heap ill on ill I truft Thee ftill, E'en when it seems as Thou wouldfi: flay indeed ! Do as Thou wilt with me, I yet will cling to Thee, Hide Thou thy face, yet, Help in time of need, I will not let Thee go !
I will not let Thee go ; mould I forsake my bliss ?
No, Lord, thou'rt mine,
And I am thine, Thee will I hold when all things else I miss.
Though dark and sad the night,
Joy cometh with thy light,
0 Thou my Sun ; fhould I forsake my bliss ?
I will not let Thee go !
1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord !
Not Death can tear Me from his care, Who for my sake his soul in death outpour'd.
158 Lyra Germanica.
Thou diedft for love to me, I say in love to Thee, E'en when my heart fhall break, my God, my Life, my Lord, I will not let Thee go !
Deszkr. 1692.
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.
And ye now therefore have sorrow ; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you. From the Gospel.
COMETH sunfhine after rain, After mourning joy again, After heavy bitter grief Dawneth surely sweet relief;
And my soul, who from her height Sank to realms of woe and night, Wingeth now to heaven her flight.
He, whom this world dares not face, Hath refrefh'd me with his grace, And his mighty hand unbound Chains of hell about me wound ;
Lyra Germanica. 159
Quicker, ftronger, leaps my blood, Since his mercy, like a flood, Pour'd o'er all my heart for good.
Bitter anguifh have I borne Keen regret my heart hath torn, Sorrow dimm'd my weeping eyes, Satan blinded me with lies ; Yet at laft am I set free, Help, protection, love, to me Once more true companions be.
Ne'er was left a helpless prey, Ne'er with fhame was turn'd away, He who gave himself to God, And on Him had caft a load.
Who in God his hope hath placed Shall not life in pain outwafte, Fulleft joy he yet mail tafte.
Though to-day may not fulfil
All thy hopes, have patience still ;
For perchance to-morrow's sun
Sees thy happier days begun.
As God willeth march the hours, Bringing joy at laft in mowers, And whate'er we aiked is ours.
When my heart was vex'd with care, Fill'd with fears, well-nigh despair ;
j
1 60 Lyra Germanica.
When with watching many a night
On me fell pale fickness' blight ;
When my courage fail'd me fall:, Cameft Thou, my God, at laft, And my woes were quickly pall.
Now as long as here I roam, On this earth have house and home, Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee Shine through all my memory.
To my God I yet will cling,
All my life the praises fing
That from thankful hearts outspring.
Every sorrow, every smart,
That the Eternal Father's heart
Hath appointed me of yore,
Or hath yet for me in ftore,
As my life flows on I'll take
Calmly, gladly for his sake,
No more faithless murmurs make.
I will meet diftress and pain,
I will greet e'en death's dark reign,
I will lay me in the grave,
With a heart ftill glad and brave.
Whom the Stronger! doth defend, Whom the Higheft counts his friend, Cannot perifh in the end.
Paul Gerhardt. 1659.
Lyra Germanlca. 161
FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.
It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you.
From the Gospel.
OHOLY Ghoft ! Thou fire Divine ! From higheft heaven on us down mine ; Comforter, be thy comfort mine !
Come, Father of the poor, to earth ; Come with thy gifts of precious worth ; Come, Light of all of mortal birth !
Thou rich in comfort ! Ever bleft
The heart where Thou art conftant gueft,
Who giv'ft the heavy-laden reft.
Come, Thou in whom our toil is sweet, Our fhadow in the noon-day heat, Before whom mourning flieth fleet.
Bright Sun of Grace ! Thy sunfhine dart On all who cry to Thee apart, And fill with gladness every heart.
1 62 Lyra Germanica.
Whate'er without thy aid is wrought, Or fkilful deed or wiseft thought, God counts it vain and merely nought.
O cleanse us that we fin no more, O'er parched souls thy waters pour ; Heal the sad heart that acheth sore.
Thy will be ours in all our ways ; O melt the frozen with thy rays ; Call home the loft in error's maze.
And grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee, And hold the faith in unity, Thy precious gifts of charity ;
That we may live in holiness, And find in death our happiness, And dwell with Thee in lafting bliss.
King Robert of France about A. D. IOOO.
Lyra Germanica. 163
TRINITY SUNDAY.
And God said, Let us make man in our image.
From the Lesson.
MOST High and Holy Trinity! Who of thy mercy mild Haft form'd me here in time, to be
Thy image and thy child : Oh let me love Thee day and night With all my soul, with all my might ; Oh come, thyself my soul prepare, And make thy dwelling ever there !
Father! replenifh with thy grace
This longing heart of mine, Make it thy quiet dwelling-place,
Thy sacred inmoft fhrine ! Forgive that oft my spirit wears Her time and ftrength in trivial cares, Enfold her in thy changeless peace, So fhe from all but Thee may cease !
O God the Son ! thy wisdom's light
On my dark reason pour j Forgive that things of sense and fight,
Were all her joy of yore ;
164 Lyra Germanica.
Henceforth let every thought and deed On Thee be fix'd, from Thee proceed, Draw me to Thee, for I would rise Above these earthly vanities !
O, Holy Ghoft ! Thou fire of love, Enkindle with thy flame my will ;
Come, with thy ftrength, Lord, from above, Help me thy bidding to fulfil :
Forgive that I so oft have done
What I as finful ought to fhun ;
Let me with pure and quenchless fire
Thy favor and thyself defire !
Moft High and Holy Trinity!
Draw me away far hence, And fix upon eternity
All powers of soul and sense ! Make me at one within ; at one With Thee on earth ; when life is done Take me to dwell in light with Thee, Moft High and Holy Trinity!
Angelus. 1657.
<£$%$
Lyra Germanlca. 165
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Cast all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.
From the Epistle.
GOD ! Thou art my Rock of ftrength, And my home is in thine arms, Thou wilt send me help at length,
And I feel no wild alarms. Sin nor Death can pierce the mield
Thy defence has o'er me thrown, Up to Thee myself I yield,
And my sorrows are thine own.
On Thee, O my God, I reft,
Letting life float calmly on, For I know the laft is beft,
When the crown of joy is won. In thy might all things I bear,
In thy love find bitters sweet, And with all my grief and care
Sit in patience at thy feet.
O, my soul, why art thou vex'd ?
Let things go e'en as they will ; Though to thee they seem perplex'd
Yet his order they fulfil. Here He is thy ftrength and guard,
Power to harm thee here has none ;
I z z Ljra Germamca.
Yooda He each reward
For the works he here has done.
Le: z'-y ~er: :> :e =::e::
O'er me, keep me close to Thee, I" z'r.t zzizt :'-■■ '.;: e :::r. lie:.
Let me dwell eternally. Be my All ; in all I do
Let me only seek thy will, Where the heart to Thee is true,
All is peaceful, calm, and stDL
A. H. Frar^ki. 1663-1':-
NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY
How long hah re between two opinions? If the Lord be God, m -, but if Baal, tl» follow Irim.
Fnm the Less**.
w
/HY halteft thus, deluded heart,
Why wayereft longer in thy choice f Is :: > : -_:: :: :'-:■:■?= :he : _::
OfFerM by Heaven's entreating roice : Oh look with clearer eyes again, Nor ftriye to enter in, in vain. Press on !
Remember, 'tis not Caesar's throne,
Nor earthly honor, wealth, or might,
Lyra German'ica. 1 67
Whereby God's favor fhall be £hown
To him who conquers in this hght Himself and an eternity Of bliss and reft He offers thee. Press on !
Then break the rotten bonds awav,
That hinder you vour race to run,
That make you linger oft and ftay ; Oh, be your course afrefh begun !
Let no false reft your soul deceive,
Up ! 'tis a Heaven ye muft achieve !
Omnipotence is on your Tide,
And wisdom watches o'er your heads. And God himself will be your guide
So ye but follow where He leads ; How many guided by his hand, Have reach'd ere now their native land.
Press on !
Let not the body dull the soul,
Its weakness, fears, and floth despise ; Man toils and roams from pole to pole
To gain some earthlv fleeting prize, The higheft good he little cares To win, or ftriving soon despairs. Press on !
1 68 Lyra Germanica.
Oh, help each other, haften on,
Behold the goal is nigh at hand ;
Soon fhall the battle-field be won,
Soon fhall your King before you ftand !
To calmeft reft He leads you now,
And sets his crown upon your brow.
Press on !
Lehr- 1733-
ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
In thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16 : 12.
S~\ FRIEND of souls, how well is me ^-^ Whene'er thy love my spirit calms ! From sorrow's dungeon forth I flee
And hide me in thy fhelt'ring arms. The night of weeping flies away Before the heat-reviving ray
Of love, that beams from out thy breaft ; Here is my heaven on earth begun j Who were not joyful had he won
In Thee, O God, his joy and reft !
The world may call herself my foe, So be it ; for I truft her not,
Lyra Germanica. 169
E'en though a friendly face fhe (how,
And heap with her good things my lot.
In Thee alone will I rejoice.
Thou art the Friend, Lord, of my choice, For Thou art true when friendfhips fail ;
'Mid ftorms of woe thy truth is ftill
My anchor ; hate me as it will,
The world fhall o'er me ne'er prevail.
Through deserts of the cross Thou leadeft,
I follow leaning on thy hand ; From out the clouds thy child Thou feedeft,
And giv'ft him water from the sand. I know thy wondrous ways will end In love and bleffing, Thou true Friend,
Enough if Thou art ever near ! I know, whom Thou wilt glorify, And raise o'er sun and ftars on high,
Thou lead'ft through depths and darkness here.
Deszler. 1692.
170 Lyra Germanica.
THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Then Hezekiah received the letter at the hands of the messenger, and read it, and Hezekiah went up into the house of the Lord, and spread it before the Lord. From the Lesson.
LEAVE God to order all thy ways, And hope in Him whate'er betide, Thou'lt find Him in the evil days
Thy all-sufficient ftrength and guide ; Who trufts in God's unchanging love, Builds on the rock that nought can move.
What can these anxious cares avail
These never-ceafing moans and fighs ?
What can it help us to bewail
Each painful moment as it flies?
Our cross and trials do but press
The heavier for our bitterness.
Only thy reftless heart keep ftill,
And wait in cheerful hope ; content
To take whate'er his gracious will, His all-discerning love hath sent.
Doubt not our inmoft wants are known
To Him who chose us for his own.
Lyra Germanica. 17 1
He knows when joyful hours are beft, He sends them as He sees it meet ;
When thou haft borne the fiery teft, And art made free from all deceit,
He comes to thee all unaware
And makes thee own his loving care.
Nor in the heat of pain and ftrife,
Think God hath caft thee off unheard,
And that the man, whose prosperous life Thou envieft, is of Him preferr'd.
Time paries and much change doth bring,
And sets a bound to every thing.
All are alike before his face ;
'Tis easy to our God moft High To make the rich man poor and base,
To give the poor man wealth and joy. True wonders ftill by Him are wrought, Who setteth up, and brings to nought.
Sing, pray, and swerve not from his ways, But do thine own part faithfully,
Truft his rich promises of grace
So mall they be fulfilPd in thee ;
God never yet forsook at need
The soul that trufted Him indeed.
Neumarck. 1653.
172 Lyra Germanica.
MORNING HYMN.
COME, my soul, awake, 'tis morning, Day is dawning O'er the earth, arise and pray ; Come, to Him who made this splendor,
Thou muff render All thy feeble powers can pay.
From the ftars now learn thy duty,
See their beauty Paling in the golden air ; So God's light thy miffs mould banifh,
Thus mould vanifh What to darken'd sense seem'd fair.
See how every thing that liveth,
Gladly ftriveth On the pleasant light to gaze ; Stirs with joy each thing that groweth,
As it knoweth Darkness smitten by its rays.
Soul, thy incense also proffer ;
Thou fhouldft offer Praise to Him, who from thy head
Lyra Germanlca. 173
Kept afar the florms of sorrow,
That the morrow- Finds the night in peace hath fled.
Bid Him bless what thou art doing,
If pursuing Some good aim ; but if there lurks 111 intent in thine endeavor,
May He ever Thwart and turn thee from thy works.
Think that He, the all-discerning,
Knows each turning Of thy path, each finful ftain ; Nay, what fhame would fain gloss over,
Can discover ; All thou doft to Him is plain.
Bound unto the flying hours
Are our powers \ Earth's vain good floats down their wave, That thy fhip, my soul, is hafting,
Never retting, To its haven in the grave.
Pray that when thy life is clofing,
Calm repofing, Thou mayft die, and not in pain \ That the night of death departed,
174 Lyra Germanica.
Thou glad-hearted, Mayft behold the Sun again.
From God's glances fhrink thou never,
Meet them ever ; Who submits him to his grace, Finds that earth no sunfhine knoweth
Such as gloweth O'er his pathway all his days.
Waken'ft thou again to sorrow,
Oh ! then borrow Strength from Him, whose sun-like might On the mountain-summit tarries,
And yet carries To the vales their mirth and light.
Round the gifts He on thee fhowers,
Fiery towers Will He set, be not afraid j Thou malt dwell 'mid angel-legions,
In the regions Satan's self dares not invade.
Von Canitz. 1654-1699,
Lyra Germanica. 175
FOR THE SICK AND DYING.
GOD ! whom I as Love have known, Thou haft fickness laid on me, And these pains are sent of Thee, Under which I burn and moan ; Let them burn away the fin,
That too oft hath check'd the love Wherewith Thou my heart wouldft move, When thy Spirit works within !
In my weakness be Thou ftrong,
Be Thou sweet when I am sad,
Let me ftill in Thee be glad, Though my pains be keen and long. All that plagues my body now,
All that wafteth me away,
Preffing on me night and day, Love hath sent, for Love art Thou!
Suffering is the work now sent,
Nothing can I do but lie
Suffering as the hours go by ; All my powers to this are bent. Suffering is my gain ; I bow
To my heavenly Father's will
And receive it hufh'd and ftill ; Suffering is my worfhip now.
Richter, 1 7 1 3.
I'i ■*-.'• "- J:--:s*:::s.
FOR THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD.
NOW refts her soul in Jesus* anus, Her body in the grave fleeps weD,
His heir: ': e: :ei:h-:r.„": r.rir: ::'.;.~-~-.
A :. : :e:t ~::e fee: thir. ~.zr.z-t :ir. telh-
He: r'ew trie: h :-.-; :: tir.hift zil'z, —
She finds with Chrirt, her Friend, at Iaft ;
She bathes r. ::ir.:_.i seas :: :r^:r.
"-,-. ■:■■ :es awav --; :ea:s, :ht reels New iir'e tha: ah r.e: li.-.r-ir heais,
The glory of the Lamb fhe sees.
She hath escaped aL iuuga Ww,
Her pain and fighing all are fled ; The crown of joy is on her brow,
Eternal glories o'er her fhed, In golden robes, a queen, a bride, She ftandeth at her Sovereign's fide, She •::« his :-iz ur.veh'i ar.z bright;
With joy and love He greets her soul She sees herself made inly whole, A letter light amid his light.
r .". e :."...: " : : ; r a t ~. e : seer..
And feels what kindling love may be, Ar.a kr.twtth what :h:se wins ~av rr.ear.,
" Himself, the Father, loveth thee."
■ermamca.
lll
A fhoreless ocean, an abyss
Unfathom'd, fill'd with good and bliss,
Now breaks on her enraptured fight ;
She sees God's face, fhe learneth there What this fhall be, to be his heir,
Joint heir with Chrift her Lord, in light.
Allendorf^ 1725,
Lyra Apoflolica. 1 8 1
LYRA APOSTOLICA.
HOLINESS.
" The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."
THERE is not on the earth a soul so base But may obtain a place In covenanted grace ; So that forthwith his prayer of faith obtains
Release of his guilt-ftains, And firft-fruits of the second birth, which rise From gift to gift, and reach at length the eternal prize.
All may save self ; — but minds that heavenward tower, Aim at a wider power, Gifts on the world to fhower. —
And this is not at once ; — by failings gained, And trials well suftained,
By pureness, righteous deeds, and toils of love,
Abidance in the truth, and zeal for God above.
1 82 Lyra Apoftdica.
AFFLICTION. •• Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me."
LORD, in this duti thy sovereign voice Firit quickened love divine ; I am all thine, — thy care and choice, My very praise is thine.
I praise Thee, while thy providence
In childhood frail I trace, For bleffings siven, ere dawning sense
Could seek or scan thy grace ;
Bleffings in boyhood's marvelling hour
Bright dreams, and fancyings ftrange ;
Bleffings, when reason's awful power Gave thought a bolder range ;
Bleffings of friends, which to my door Unafked, unhoped, have come \
And, choicer ftill, a countless ftore Of eager smiles at home.
Yet, Lord, in memory's fondeft place
I fhrine those seasons sad, When, looking up, I saw thy face
In kind auftereness clad.
Lyra Apoflolica. 183
I would not miss* one figh or tear Heart-pang or throbbing brow ;
Sweet was the chaftisement severe, And sweet its memory now.
Yes ! let the fragrant scars abide,
Love-tokens in thy ftead, Faint fhadows of the spear-pierced fide,
And thorn-encompafTed head.
And such thy loving force be frill, 'Mid life's fierce fhifting fray,
Shaping to Truth self's froward will Along thy narrow way.
Deny me wealth ; far, far remove The lure of power or name ;
Hope thriven in ftraits, in weakness Love, And Faith in this world's fhame.
184 Lyra Jpojiolica.
DISCIPLINE.
WHEN I look back upon my former race, Seasons I see, at which the Inward Ray More brightly burned, or guided some new way ; Truth, in its wealthier scene and nobler space, Given for mv eve to range, and feet to trace, And next I mark, 'twas trial did convev, Or grief, or pain, or ftrange eventful day, To my tormented soul such larger grace. So now, whene'er, in journeying on, I feel The fhadow of the Providential Hand, Deep breathless ftirrings moot across my breaft, Searching to know what He will now reveal, What fin uncloak, what stricter rule command, And girding me to work his full beheft.
LEAD THOU ME ON.
SHED kindlv light amid the encircling gloom And lead me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on ! Keep Thou mv feet : I do not afk to see The diftant scene : one ftep enough for me.
Lyra Apojiolica. 185
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Should'ft lead me on ! I loved to choose and see my path, but now
Lead Thou me on ! I loved day's dazzling light, and spite of fears Pride ruled my will ; remember not paft years !
So long thy power hath blefled me, surely ftill
'Twill lead me on ! Through dreary doubt, through pain and sorrow till
The night is gone. And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long fince, and loft awhile.
DEEDS NOT WORDS.
PRUNE thou thy words, the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng; They will condense within thy soul And change to purpose ftrong.
But he, who lets his feelings run
In soft luxurious flow, Shrinks when hard service muft be done,
And faints at every woe.
1 86 Lyra Apoftdica.
Faith's meanefr. deed more favour bears, Where hearts and wills are weighed,
Than brighter!: transports, choiceft prayers, Which bloom their hour and fade.
HOLINESS.
" Be strong, and He shall comfort thine heart."
;i T ORD, I have fafted, I have prayed,
-■— ' And sackcloth has mv girdle been, To purge my soul I have elTayed
With hunger blank and vigil keen. O God of mercv ! whv am I Still haunted by 'the self I fly?"
Sackcloth is a girdle good,
O bind it round thee ftill ; Fafting, it is angels' food,
And Jesus loved the night-air chill ; Yet think not prayer and fail were given To make one ftep 'twixt earth and heaven.
Lyra Apoftolica. 187
DAVID AND JONATHAN.
* Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.'*
O HEART of fire! misjudged by wilful man, Thou flower of JefTe's race ! What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan
Laft greeted face to face ! He doom'd to die, thou on us to impress The portent of a blood-ftained holiness.
Yet it was well : — for so, mid cares of rule,
And crime's encircling tide, A spell was o'er thee, zealous one, to cool
Earth-joy and kingly pride ; With battle-scene and pageant, prompt to blend The pale calm sceptre of a blameless friend.
Ah ! had he lived, before thy throne to ftand
Thy spirit keen and high, Sure it had snapped in twain love's flender band,
So dear in memory ; Paul's ftrife unbleft,* its serious leflbn gives, He bides with us who dies, he is but loft who lives.
* Acts 15 : 39.
1 88 Lyra Apoftolica.
BEREAVEMENT.
Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in duft and ashes."
Job xlii. 6.
AND dare I say, " welcome to me The pang that proves thee near ? " O words, too oft on bended knee
Breathed to the Unerring Ear. While the cold spirit filently
Pines at the scourge severe.
Nay, try once more — thine eyelids close
For prayer intense and meek : When the warm light gleams through and fhows
Him near who helps the weak. Unmurmuring then thy heart's repose
In duft and afhes seek.
But when the self-abhorring thrill
Is pan1, as pass it muft, When tasks of life thy spirit fill,
Risen from thy tears and duft, Then be the self-renouncing will
The seal of thy calm truft.
Lyra Apoftolica. 189
CONFESSION.
MY smile is bright, my glance is free, My voice is calm and clear ; Dear friend, I seem a type to thee Of holy love and fear.
But I am scanned by eyes unseen, And these no saint surround ;
They mete what is, by what has been, And joy the loft is found.
Erst my good Angel fhrank to see My thoughts and ways of ill ;
And now he scarce dare gaze on me, Scar-seamed and crippled ftill.
190 Lyra Apo/iolica.
FAITH. " It is I : be not afraid.'
WHEN I fink down in gloom or fear, Hope blighted or delayed, Thy whisper, Lord, my heart fhall cheer " 'Tis I : be not afraid ! "
Or, ftartled at some sudden blow,
If fretful thoughts I feel, "Fear not, it is but I ! " fhall flow
As balm my wound to heal.
Nor will I quit thy way, though foes
Some onward pass defend ; From each rough voice the watchword goes,
" Be not afraid I ... 2. friend ! "
And O ! when judgment's trumpet clear
Awakes me from the grave. Still in its echo may I hear,
" 'Tis Chrift ! He comes to save."
Lyra Apojiolica. 191
HOME.
BANISHED the House of sacred reft Amid a thoughtless throng, At length I heard its Creed confeffed, And knelt the Saints among.
Artless his ftrain and unadorned,
Who spoke Chrift's meflage there ;
But what at home I might have scorned, Now charmed my famifhed ear.
Lord, grant me this abiding grace, Thy Word and Sons to know ;
To pierce the veil on Moses* face, Although his speech be flow !
LYRA INNOCENTIUM.
M
i : I
Lyra Innocent lum. 195
LYRA INNOCENTIUM.
UNWEARIED LOVE.
" Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times ; but until seventy times seven."
MY child, the counsels high attend Of thine Eternal Friend. When longings pure, when holy prayers, When self-denying thoughts and cares
Room in thy heart would win, Stay not too long to count them o'er ; Rise in His name ; throw wide the door, Let the good Angels in :
Nor liften, mould the Tempter say,
" How wearying, day by day, To say the prayer we said before, The mountain path climb o'er and o'er, No end to warfare find!"
196 Lyra Innocentium.
Nor seek thou limit to discern In patient woe, in duty ftern,
But learn thy (Saviour's) mind.
He pardoning wearies not. Ah why
Behold with evil eye Thy brother afking grace for fin ? He doth but aid thee, more to win
Of hope in thy laft end. In heart forgive — that pays Him all : But grudging souls muft die in thrall,
No Saviour and no Friend.
THE BOY WITH THE FIVE LOAVES. If thou hast little, do thy diligence gladly to give of that little.'
W
HAT time the Saviour spread his feaft For thousands on the mountain's fide, One of the laft and leaft The abundant store supplied.
Haply the wonders to behold,
A boy, 'mid other boys he came, A lamb of Jesus' fold,
Though now unknown by name.
Lyra Innocentium. 197
Or for his sweet obedient ways
The Apoftles brought him near, to fhare Their Lord's laborious days, His frugal bafket bear.
Or might it be his duteous heart That led him sacrifice to bring For his own fimple part,
To the world's hidden King ?
Well may I guess how glow'd his cheek, How he look'd down, half pride, half fear : Far off he saw one speak Of him in Jesus' ear.
" There is a lad — five loaves hath he, And fifties twain — but what are they, Where hungry thousands be ? " Nay, Chrift will find a way.
In order, on the frefh green hill,
The mighty Shepherd ranks his fheep By tens and fifties, ftill
As clouds when breezes fleep.
Or who can tell the trembling joy, Who paint the grave endearing look, When from that favored boy
The wondrous pledge He took? —
^8 Ly.i I'::::-:ntium,
Keep thou, dear child, thine early word ; Bring Him thy beft : who knows bur He For his eternal board
May take some gift of thee !
Thou prayeft without the veil as j e: : But kneel in faith : an arm benign Such prayers will duly set Within the holieit. fhrine.
And Prayer has might to spread and grow. Thy childiih dans, right-aim'd on high, May catch Heaven's r.:_
: in the eternal fky :
as He made that {tripling' s llore Type of the feaft by Him decreed, Where Angels might adore, : souls for ever feed.
w w:
Lyra Innocentium. 199
HEZEKIAH'S DISPLAY.
" There is nothing among my treasures that I have not showed them."
WHEN Heaven in mercy gives thy prayers return, And Angels bring thee treasures from on high, Shut fast the door, nor let the world discern, And offer thee fond praise when God is nigh.
In friendly guise, perchance with friendly heart, From Babel, see, they hafte with words of love :
But if thou lightly all thy wealth impart,
Their race will come again, and all remove.
Ill thoughts, the children of that King of Pride, O'er richer! halls will swarm, and holieft bowers,
Profaning firft, then spoiling far and wide :
Voluptuous Sloth make free with Sharon's flowers.
Close thou the garden-gate, and keep the key, There chiefly, where the tender seedlings fold
Their dainty leaves — a treasure even to thee Unknown, till air celeftial make them bold.
When sun and fhower give token, freely then The fragrance will ileal out, the flower unclose :
200 Lyra Innocentium.
But busy hands, and an admiring ken,
Have blighted ere its hour full many a rose.
Then reft thee, bright one, in thy tranquil nook, Fond eyes to cherifh thee, true arms to keep,
Nor wiftful for the world's gay sunfhine look ; — In its own time the light will o'er thee sweep.
•****^9^***"
FINE CLOTHES.
" And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way ; others cut down branches from the trees, and strewed them in the
way."
(For Palm Sunday.)
LOOK weftward, penflve little one, How the bright hues together run, Around where late the waning sun
Sank in his evening cloud. Or eaftward turn thee, and admire How linger yet the mowers of fire, Deep in each fold, high on each spire Of yonder mountain proud.
Thou seeft it not : an envious screen, A fluttering leaflet, hangs between
Lyra Innocentium. 20
Thee and that fair myfterious scene,
A veil too near thine eye. One finger's breadth at hand will mar A world of light in heaven afar, A mote eclipse a glorious ftar,
An eyelid hide the fky.
And while to clear the view we ftay Lo ! the bright hour hath pafT'd away ; A twilight haze, all dim and gray,
Hath quench'd the living gleam. Remember this, thou little child, In hours of prayer, when fancies wild Betwixt thee and thy Saviour mild
Come floating on life's ftream.
O fhame, O grief, when earth's rude toys, An opening door, a breath, a noise, Drive from the heart th' eternal joys,
Displace the Lord of Love ! For half a prayer perchance on. high We soar, and heaven seems bright and nigh, But ah ! too soon frail heart and eye
Sink down and earthward rove.
The Sunday garment glittering gay The Sunday heart will fteal away. Then hafte thee, ere the fond glance ftray, Thy precious robes unfold,
202 Lyra Innocentium.
And caft before thy Saviour's feet : Him spare not with thy beft to greet, Nor dread the duft of Sion's ftreet, 'Tis jewels all and gold.
SHYNESS. " Moses hid his face ; for he was afraid to look upon God."
TEAR not away the veil, dear friend, Nor from its fhelter rudely rend The heaven-protected flower : It waits for sun and fhower To woo it kindly forth in its own time, And when they come, untaught will know its hour of prime.
Blame not the eye that from thee turns, The cheek that in a moment burns With tingling fire so bright, Feeling thine eager fight, — The lowly drooping brow, the ftammering tongue, The giddy wavering thought, scarce knowing right and wrong.
Lyra Innocentium. 203
With quivering hands that closely fold Over his downcaft eyes, behold
The Shepherd on the Mount
Adores the Living Fount Of pure unwafting fire : no glance he fteals, But in his heart's deep joy the Dread Eye gazing feels, —
Feels it, and gladlier far would die Than let it go. There will he lie
Till the Dread Voice return,
And he the lore may learn Of his appointed tafk — bold deeds to dare, High myfteries to impart, deep penances to bear.
Then tear we not the veil away, Nor ruthless tell in open day
The tender spirit's dream.
O let the deepening ftream, Might, from the mountain-springs in filence draw ; O mar we nbt his work, who trains his saints in awe.
204 Lyra Innocentium,
THE GLEANERS.
THE Church is one wide harveft field, Where Time and Death are gathering in Rich bleflings by the Almighty owner sealed For spirits meet his pardoning word to win.
We are as children : here and there
A few fallen ears, the fheaves among, We glean, where beft the bounteous Hand may spare,
So learning for his perfect ftore to long.
Come, little ones — come early out,
Come joyous, come with fteady heart, Roam not to seek wild flowers the field about,
Nor yet at dreams of fancied vipers ftart.
The sun of Autumn climbs full fan1 : He will have quaffed each drop of dew,
Ere half the fragrant, healthy lane be palled,
The lingerers, they will find scant ears and few.
Come, quit your toys, and hafte away.
But mark : ye may not leave behind Your ftore of smiles, your gladsome talk and gay,
Your pure thoughts, fafhioned to your Mafter's mind.
Lyra Innocentium. 205
Blithe be your course, yet bear in heart The lame and old, and help them on ;
Full handfulls drop where they may take a part, As high will swell your heap when day is done.
Yon flumbering infant in the fhade, — Grudge not one hour on him to wait
While others glean. The work with finging aid, With ready mirth all {harper tones abate.
Sing softly in your heart all day
Sweet carols to the harveft's Lord, So mall ye chase those evil powers away
That walk at noon — rude gaze and wanton word.
EFFECT OF EXAMPLE.
" For I have five brethren ; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment."
T?IVE loving souls, each one as mine, -*• And each for evermore to be ! Each deed of each to thrill
For good or ill Along thine awful line, Eternity !
2o6 Lyra Innocentium.
Who for such burden may suffice ?
Who bear to think, how scornful tone, Or word or glance too bold,
Or ill dream told, May bar from Paradise Our Matter's own ?
We scatter seeds with careless hand,
And dream we ne'er fhall see them more But for a thousand years
Their fruit appears, In weeds that mar the land, Or healthful ftore.
The deeds we do, the words we say, — Into ftill air they seem to fleet, We count them ever paft ;
But they mail laft, In the dread judgment they And we fhall meet !
I charge thee by the years gone by,
For the love's sake of brethren dear, Keep thou the one true way
In work and play, Left in that world their cry Of woe thou hear !
Lyra Innocentium. 207
THE WATERFALL.
" Ye also, as lively stones, are built up, a spiritual house.' " I will make thy seed as the dust of the earth."
WHA'
HAT is the Church, and what am I ? world, to one poor sandy grain, A wafte of sea and fky To one frail drop of rain.
" What boots one feeble infant tone To the full choir denied or given, Where millions round the Throne Are chanting, morn and even ? "
Nay, the kind Watchers hearkening there Diftinguifh in the deep of song Each little wave, each air Upon the faltering tongue.
Each half note in the great Amen, Even by the utterer's self unheard, They (lore : O fail not then To bring thy lowly word :
Spare not to swell the bold acclaim ; So in the future battle-fhout, When at the Saviour's name The Church mail call thee out,
2C$ L-.ra Innzcentium.
No doubtful sound thv trump fhall pour. Remember, when in earlier days Thou toil'dft upon the floor Palace or tower to raise,
No mimic ftone but found a place, And glorious to the builder fhone The pile : then how mould Grace One living gem disown,
One pearly mote, one diamond small, One sparkle of th' unearthly light ? — Go where the waters fall
Sheer from the mountains height ;
Mark how, a thousand ftreams in one, One in a thousand on they fare, Now flafhing to the sun, Now ftill as beaft in lair.
Now round the rock, now mounting o'er, In lawless dance they win their way, Still seeming more and more To swell as we Survey.
Thev win their way, and find their reft Together in their ocean home. From Eaft and weary Weft,
From North and South thev come.
Lyra Innccentium. 2 09
They rufh and roar, they whirl and leap, Not wilder drives the wintry ftorm : Yet a ftrong law they keep,
Strange powers their course inform.
Even so the mighty fky-born ftream : — Its living waters from above All marr'd and broken seem, No union and no love.
Yet in dim caves they haply blend, In dreams of mortals unespied : One is their awful End, One their unfailing Guide.
We that with eye too daring seek
To scan their course, all giddy turn : — Not so the floweret meek, Harebell or nodding fern :
They from the rocky wall's fteep fide Lean without fear, and drink the spray ; The torrent's foaming pride
But keeps them green and gay.
And Chriit. hath lowly hearts, that reft Amid fallen Salem's rum and ftrife ; The pure, peace-loving breaft Even here can find her life. N
210 Lyra Innocentium.
What though in harfh and angry note The broken flood chafe high ? they muse On mifts that lightly float, On heaven-descending dews,
On virgin snows, the feeders pure
Of the bright river's mountain springs : — And ftill their prayers endure, And Hope sweet answer brings.
If of the Living Cloud they be Baptismal drops, and onward press Toward the Living Sea By deeds of holiness,
Then to the Living Waters ftill
(O joy with trembling!) they pertain, Joined by some hidden rill, Low in Earth's darkeft vein.
Scorn not one drop : of drops the mower Is made, of fhowers the waterfall : Of children's souls the Power Doomed to be Queen o'er all.
Lyra bmcccntium. 21 1
CHURCH DECORATIONS.
u I will not offer burnt-offerings without cost.'
WHY deck the high cathedral roof With foliage rich and rare, With crowns and flowerets far aloof, To none but angels fair ?
"Why for the lofty Altar hide Thy gems and gold in ftore ?
W7hy spread the burniflied pall so wide Upon the chancel floor ? "
Nay, rather afk, why duteous boy
And mother-loving maid Scarce in their filial gifts find joy,
If nought of theirs be paid :
Why hearts, that true love-tokens need
For brother or for friend, Count not the coft with careful heed,
But hafte their all to spend :
Afk why of old the favored king Inquired the Temple's price,
Not bearing to his Lord to bring An unbought sacrifice.
212 Lyra Innocentium.
Yea, lowly fall, and of thy Lord
In filence afk and dread, Why praised He Mary's ointment, poured
Upon his Sacred Head.
ELIJAH AT SAREPTA.
" Make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son."
LO, caft at random on the wild sea sand A child low wailing lies : Around, with eye forlorn and feeble hand,
Scarce heeding its faint cries, The widowed mother in the wilderness Gathers dry boughs, their laft sad meal to bless.
But who is this that comes with mantle rude
And vigil-wafted air ? Who to the famifhed cries, u Come give me food,
I with thy child would fhare ? " She bounteous gives : but hard he seems of heart, Who of such scanty ftore would crave a part.
Haply the child his little hand holds forth, That all his own may be. —
.yra Innocentium. 213
Nay, fimple one, thy mother's faith is worth
Healing and life to thee. That handful given, for years insures thee bread ; That drop of oil mail raise thee from the dead.
For in yon haggard form He begs unseen,
To whom for life we kneel : One little cake He afks with lowly mien,
Who blefles every meal. Lavifh for Him, ye poor, your children's ftore So fhall your cruise for many a day run o'er.
THE EMPTY CHURCH. " The blind and the lame came to him in the temple."
WHY fhould we grudge the hour and house of prayer To Chrift's own blind and lame, Who come to meet Him there ? Better, be sure, his altar-flame Should glow in one dim wavering spark, Than quite die down, and leave his temple drear and dark.
" But in our Psalm their choral answers fail."
Nay, but the heart may speak,
And to the holy tale Respond aright in filence meek.
2I4
Lyra Innocentium.
And well we know, bright angel throngs Are by, to swell those whisperings into warbled songs.
What if the world our two or three despise ? Thev in his name are here, To whom in suppliant guise Of old the blind and lame drew near. Befide his royal courts they wait And afk his healing hand \ we dare not close the gate.
MISCELLANEOUS.
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Miscellaneous. |
217 |
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MISCELLANEOUS. |
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— «©o- |
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VIGILS. |
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TT is the fall of eve ; -^ And the long tapers now we light |
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And watch : for we believe |
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Our Lord may come at night. |
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Adefte Fideles. |
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An hour — and it is Seven, |
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And faft away the evening rolls : |
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O, it is dark in heaven, |
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But light within our souls. |
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Veni Creator Spiritus ! |
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Hark! the old bell ftrikes Eight! |
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And ftill we watch with heart and ear, |
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For as the hour grows late, |
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The Day-ftar may be near. |
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Jubilate Deo ! |
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Hark ! it is knelling Nine ! |
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But faithful eyes grow never dim ; |
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2 1 8 Miscellaneous . |
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And ftill our tapers fhine, |
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And ftill ascends our hymn. |
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Cum Angelis ! |
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The watchman crieth Ten ! |
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My soul, be watching for the Light, |
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For when he comes again, |
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'Tis as the thief at night. |
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Nisi Dominus ! |
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By the old bell — Eleven! |
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Now trim thy lamps, and ready ftand ; |
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The world to fleep is given, |
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But Jesus is at hand. |
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De Profundis! |
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At midnight — is a cry! |
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Is it the bridegroom draweth near ? |
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Come quickly, Lord, for I |
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Have long'd thy voice to hear! |
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Kyrie Eleison ! |
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Could ye not watch One hour? |
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Be ready : or the bridal train |
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And bridegroom, with his dower, |
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May sweep along in vain. |
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Miserere mei ! |
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By the old fteeple — Two ! |
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And now I know the day is near ! |
Miscellaneous . 219
Watch — for his word is true, And Jesus may appear ! Dies Irae !
Three — by the drowsy chime ! And joy is nearer than at firft.
O, let us watch the time When the firft light mall burft ! Sursum Corda.
Four — and a ftreak of day ! At the cock-crowing He may come ;
And ftill to all I say, Watch — and with awe be dumb. Fili David!
Five ! — and the tapers now In rosy morning dimly burn !
Stand, and be girded thou, Thy Lord will yet return ! Veni Jesu!
Hark ! tis the Matin call ! Oh, when our Lord fhall come again
At prime or even-fall, Bleft are the wakeful men ! Nunc dimittis.
A. C. Coxe.
Note. — The Latin lines, at the end of every stanza, are the titles of chaunts appropriate to the several hours. Adeste : Hither ye
220 Miscellaneous.
faithful. — Vent Creator: Come Holy Ghost. — Jubilate Deo: The iooth Psalm. — Cum Angelis : Therefore with angels and archangels, &c. — Nisi Dominus : Unless the Lord keep the city, the Watchman waketh but in vain. — De Profundis : Out of the depths, Ps. 130. — Kyrie Eleison : Lord have mercy upon us. — The Miserere: Ps. 57. — Dies Irae : The day of wrath. — Sursum Corda : Lift up your hearts. — Fili David : Son of David, have mercy upon us. — Veni Jesu : Come Lord Jesus — come quickly. — Nunc Dimittis : Now Lord let- test thou thy servant depart in peace, Luke 2. 29.
PENITENCE.
DEEPEN the wounds thy hands have made In this weak, helpless soul, Till mercy, with its balmy aid, Descend to make me whole.
I see the exceeding broad command,
Which all contains in one : Enlarge my heart to underftand
The myftery unknown.
O that, with all thy saints, I might
By sweet experience prove What is the length, and breadth, and height,
And depth of perfect love !
C. Wesley.
Miscellaneous. 22 1
GOING TO CHRIST.
" Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.' John 6: 37.
JUST as I am ! without one plea But that thy blood was fhed for me, And that thou bid'ft me come to Thee, — Oh Lamb of God, I come !
Juft as I am, — and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot —
Oh Lamb of God, I come !
Juft as I am — though tofTed about With many a conflict, many a doubt — Fightings within, and fears without — Oh Lamb of God, I come !
Juft as I am — poor, wretched, blind, Sight, riches, healing of the mind, Yea, all I need, in Thee to find, — Oh Lamb of God, I come !
Juft as I am — Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, Because thy promise I believe — Oh Lamb of God, I come !
222 Miscellaneous.
Juft as I am — thy love unknown Has broken every barrier down ; Now to be thine, yea, thine alone, Oh Lamb of God, I come!
Charlotte Elliot.
LOVE OF GOD.
THOU Grace divine, encircling all A soundless, fhoreless sea ! Wherein at laft, our souls fhall fall, O Love of God moft free !
When over dizzy fteeps we go, One soft hand blinds our eyes,
The other leads us safe and flow, O Love of God moft wise !
And though we turn us from thy face, And wander wide and long,
Thou hold'ft us ftill in thine embrace, O Love of God moft ftrong!
The saddened heart, the reftless soul The toilworn frame and mind,
Alike confess thy sweet control, O Love of God moft kind !
Miscellaneous . 223
But not alone thy care we claim, Our wayward steps to win :
We know thee by a dearer name, O Love of God within !
And filled and quickened by thy breath, Our souls are ftrong and free
To rise o'er fin, and fear, and death, O Love of God, to thee !
EVENING PRAYER.
COME to Thee to-night, In my lone closet where no eye can see And dare to crave an interview with Thee, Father of love and light.
1
Softly the moonbeams mine On the ftill branches of the fhadowy trees, While all sweet sounds of evening on the breeze
Steal through the (lumbering vine.
Thou gav'ft the calm repose That rests on all ; the air, the birds, the flower, The human spirit in its weary hour
Now at the bright day's close.
224 Miscellaneous,
'Tis Nature's time for prayer ; The filent praises of the glorious fky, And the earth's orisons profound and high
To Heaven their breathings bear.
With them my soul would bend In humble reverence at thy Holy Throne, Trufting the merits of thy Son alone
Thy sceptre to extend.
If I this day have ffriven With thy bleft spirit, or have bowed the knee To aught of earth in weak idolatry
I pray to be forgiven.
If in my heart has been An unforgiving thought, or word, or look Though deep the malice which I scarce could brook
Warn me from the dark fin.
If I have turned away From grief or suffering which I might relieve, Careless the cup of water e'en to give
Forgive me Lord I pray.
And teach me how to feel My finful wanderings with a deeper smart ; And more of mercv and of grace impart
My finfulness to heal.
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Miscellaneous. |
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Father ! my soul would be s as the drops of eve's unsullied dew — as the ftars whose nightly course is true — So would I be to Thee. |
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Not for myself alone Would I these bleflings of thy love But for each penitent the wide earth Whom Thou haft called thine < |
implore ; o'er jwn. |
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And for my heart's beft friends, Whose fteadfaft kindness o'er my painful years Has watched to soothe affliction's griefs and tears, My warmeft prayer ascends. |
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Should o'er their path decline light of gladness, or of hope, or health, Thou their solace, and their joy, and wealth, As they have long been mine. |
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And now, O Father, take heart I caft with humble faith on Thee, cleanse its depths from each impurity, For my Redeemer's sake. Anonymous. |
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226 Miscellaneous.
EVENING HYMN.
THE night is come .; like to the day, Depart not thou, great God, away. Let not my fins black as the night, Eclipse the luftre of thy light. Keep ftill in my horizon : for to me The sun makes not the day, but Thee. Thou whose nature cannot fleep, On my temples sentry keep : Guard me 'gainft those watchful foes, Whose eyes are open while mine close. Let no dreams my head infeft But such as Jacob's temples bleft. Whilft I do reft, my soul advance ; Make my fleep a holy trance : That I may, my reft being wrought, Awake into some holy thought. And with as active vigor run My course, as doth the nimble sun. Sleep is a death, O make me try, By fleeping, what it is to die : And as gently lay my head On my grave as now my bed. Howe'er I reft, great God, let me Awake again at laft with Thee.
Miscellaneous, 227
And thus afTur'd, behold I lie
Securely, or to wake or die.
These are my drowsy days •> in vain
I do now wake to fleep again :
O come that hour, when I mail never
Sleep thus again, but wake for ever.
Sir Thomas Browne.
PRAYER.
ERE the morning's busy ray Call you to your work away ; Ere the filent evening close Your wearied eyes in sweet repose ; To lift your heart and voice in prayer Be your first and latest care.
He, to whom the prayer is due,
From heaven his throne mail smile on you ;
Angels sent by Him mail tend,
Your daily labor to befriend,
And their nightly vigils keep
To guard you in the hour of fleep.
Bijhop Mant.
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/^\H Lord ! how happy fhould we be, V^ If we could leave our cares to Thee, |
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If we from self could reft : |
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And feel at heart that One above, |
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In perfect wisdom, perfect love |
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Is working, for the beft. |
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For when we kneel and caft our care |
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Upon our God in humble prayr |
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th ftrengthened souls we rise. |
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Sure that our Father who is r.:_" |
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To hear the ravens when they cry |
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Wifl hear his children's cries. |
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Oh ! would these reftless hearts of ours |
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The leflbn learn from birds and flowers |
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Find in each trial, peace. |
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Miscellaneous. 229
MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.
FATHER, I know that all my life Is portioned out for me, And the changes that will surely come,
I do not fear to see ; But I afk Thee for a present mind Intent on pleafing Thee.
I afk Thee for a thoughtful love, Through conftant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles, And to wipe the weeping eyes ;
And a heart at leisure from itself, To sooth and sympathize.
I would not have the reftless will
That hurries to and fro, Seeking for some great thing to do,
Or secret thing to know ; I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er eftate, I have a fellowfhip with hearts
To keep and cultivate ;
230 Miscellaneous.
And a work of lowly love to do, For the Lord on whom I wait.
So I afk Thee for the daily ftrength,
To none that afk denied. And a mind to blend with outward life,
While keeping at thy fide, Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not afk
In my cup of bleffing be, I would have my spirit fill'd the more
With grateful love to Thee — And careful, less to serve Thee much,
Than to please Thee perfectly.
There are briars besetting every path,
Which call for patient care ; There is a cross in every lot,
And an earneft. need for prayer ; But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
In a service which thy love appoints,
There are no bonds for me ; For my secret heart is taught "the truth"
That makes thy children " free ; " And a life of self-renouncing love,
Is a life of liberty. t
Miscellaneous. 231
IN having all things and not Thee, what have I ? Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ?
And having Thee alone what have I not ? I wifti not sea nor land ; nor would I be PofleiTed of heaven, heaven unpofTeiTed of Thee.
Great God ! Thou art the flowing spring of light ;
Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent ray ; Thou art my path ; direct my fteps aright,
I have no other light, no other way ; I'll truft my God, and Him alone pursue : His law mall be my path, his heavenly light my clue.
Quarks.
EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.
E is a path, if any be mifled ; He is a robe, if any naked be ; If any chance to hunger, He is bread ; If any be a bondman, He is free ; If any be but weak, how ftrong is He ! To dead men life He is, to fick men health ; To blind men fight, and to the needy wealth ; A pleasure without loss, a treasure without ftealth.
Giles Fletcher.
H
232 Miscellaneous.
HARK ! my soul, how every thing Strives to serve our beauteous King ; Each a double tribute pays, Sings its part, and then obeys.
Nature's chief and sweeteft choir, Him with cheerful notes admire ; Chanting every day their lauds, While the grove their song applauds.
Though their voices lower be, Streams have too their melody ; Night and day they warbling run, Never pause, but ftill fing on.
All the flowers that gild the spring, Hither their ftill mufic bring ; If heaven bless them, thankful, they Smell more sweet, and look more gay.
Only we can scarce afford, This fhort office to our Lord ; We, on whom his bounty flows, All things gives, and nothing owes.
Wake, for fhame, my flothful heart, Wake, and gladly fing thy part :
Miscellaneous. 233
Learn of birds and springs and flowers, How to use thy noble powers.
Call all nature to thy aid, Since 'twas He all nature made ; Join in one eternal song Who to one God all belong.
CALM, PEACE, AND LIGHT.
THERE is a Calm the Poor in Spirit know, That softens sorrow, and that sweetens woe ; There is a Peace that dwells within the breaft, When all without is ftormy and diftreft ; There is a Light that gilds the darkeft hour, When dangers thicken and when tempefts lower, That calm, to faith and hope and love is given, That peace remains when all befide is riven, That light mines down to man direcl: from Heaven.
234 Miscellaneous.
SONNET.
"O speak good of the Lord, all ye works of his, in all places of his dominions." — Psalm 103 : 22.
ANSWER, with all thy pulses, throb and speak, Thou tender, palpitating heart of God ! Through earth, through air, and caves of ocean broad, All thronged with myriad beings, ftrong or weak In terror, or deep love ! Flufh on the cheek Of morn, breathe sweet from evening's dewy sod ! Tremble in mufic, 'mid the choral ode That from the soft vale to the mountain peak Whispers or thunders ! — Art Thou cold, or dead, Or vengeful ? — Hum ! a holy filence reigns : That our own heart, {tilling our throbbing veins, And only with its own aflurance fed, May be itself thy answer and abode, O tender, palpitating heart of God !
Chauncy Hare Townjhend.
Miscellaneous . 235
SONNET.
" All things work together for good to them that love God.1 Romans 8 : 28.
OH, what a load of ftruggle and diftress Falls off before the Cross ! The feverifh care ; The wifh that we were other than we are ; The fick regrets ; the yearnings numberless ; The thought, " this might have been," so apt to press On the reluctant soul ; even paft despair, Paft fin itself, — all — all is turned to fair Ay, to a scheme of ordered happiness, So soon as we love God, or rather know That God loves us ! . . . Accepting the great pledge Of his concern for all our wants and woe, We cease to tremble upon danger's edge ; While varying troubles form and burft anew, Safe in a Father's arms we smile as infants do !
Chauncy Hare Townjhend.
®m>
236 Miscellaneous.
SONNET.
" What is truth ? " — St. John 18 : 38.
OH, how we pine for truth ! for something more Than hulks of learning ! How did ancient Greece Hang on the virtuous lips of Socrates, Turning from words more sounding to adore The wisdom that sent souls to their own ftore For knowledge. So let us our hearts release ! 'Tis time the jargon of the schools mould cease — Errors that rot Theology's deep core, Lying at the base of things. Down, down mull fall The glittering edifice, cemented much With blood, yet baseless. At Truth's fimple touch
All the vain fabric will be mattered all !
But not the Bible ! Nature there is ftored, And God ! Eternal is the Saviour's Word !
Chauncy Hare Townfhend.
Miscellaneous . 237
PRAYER.
LORD, what a change within us one fhort hour Spent in thy presence will avail to make ! What heavy burdens from our bosoms take !
What parched grounds refrefh, as with a fhower !
We kneel, and all around us seems to lower ; We rise, and all, the diftant and the near, Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear ;
We kneel, how weak ! we rise, how full of power !
Why, therefore, mould we do ourselves this wrong,
Or others — that we are not always ftrong —
That we are ever overborne with care- That we mould ever weak or heartless be,
Anxious or troubled — when with us is prayer,
And joy, and ftrength, and courage are with Thee?
Trench,
238 Miscellaneous.
ACCESS TO GOD EVERY WHERE.
THEY who seek the throne of grace, Find that throne in every place ; If we live a life of prayer, God is present every where.
In our fickness or our health, In our want or in our wealth, If we look to God in prayer, God is present every where.
When our earthly comforts fail, When the foes of life prevail, 'Tis the time for earneft prayer ;■ God is present every where.
Then, my soul, in every {trait To thy Father come and wait ; He will answer every prayer God is present every where.
4non.
Miscellaneous. 239
PERFECT IN LOVE.
"Whoso feareth is not made perfect in love. Perfect love cafteth out fear." — 1 John 4: 18.
« pERFECT in love! "— Lord, can it be,
1 Amidft this ftate of doubt and fin ? While foes so thick without, I see, With weakness, pain, disease within : Can perfect love inhabit here, And ftrong in faith, extinguifh fear ?
O, Lord ! amidft this mental night,
Amidft the clouds of dark dismay, Arise ! arise ! fhed forth thy light, And kindle love's meridian day. My Saviour God to me appear, So love fhall triumph over fear.
240 Miscellaneous.
THE CHILDREN'S DESIRE.
I THINK when I read the sweet ftory of old, How when Jesus was here among men, He once called little children as lambs to his fold —
I mould like to have been with them then. I wifh that his hands had been placed on my head
That his arms had been thrown around me ; And that I might have seen his kind look, when He said, " Let the little ones come unto me."
Yet ftill to his footftool in faith I may go,
And there afk for a fhare of his love ; And I know if I earneftly seek Him below,
I mail see Him and hear Him above — In that beautiful place, He is gone to prepare,
For all those who are warned and forgiven ; And many dear children are gathering there,
" For of such is the kingdom of heaven."
Anonymous.
iL^2
Miscellaneous. 241
LIFE.
IT is not life upon thy gifts to live, But, to grow fixed with deeper roots in Thee ; And when the sun and fhower their bounties give, To send out thick-leaved limbs ; a fruitful tree, Whose green head meets the eye for many a mile, Whose molT-grown arms their rigid branches rear, And full-faced fruits their blufhing welcome smile As to its goodly (hade our feet draw near ; Who taftes its gifts fhall never hunger more, For tis the Father spreads the pure repaft, Who, while we eat, renews the ready ftore, Which at his bounteous board muft ever laft ; For none the bridegroom's supper fhall attend, Who will not hear and make his word their friend.
Jones Very.
2 l. 2 Miscellaneous .
FOR DIVINE STRENGTH.
FATHER, in thy myfterious presence kneeling, vould our souls feel all thy kindling 1: Y:: w€ are weak, and need some deep revealing O: Truft, and Strength, and Calmness, from above.
Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow, And Thou haft made each ftep an onward one ;
And we will ever truft each unknown morrow, — Tr.ou wilt suftain us till its work is done.
In the heart's depths, a peace serene and holy -Vrides, and when pain seems to have her will,
Or we despair, — O may that peace rise flowly, Stronger than agony, and we be ftill.
7 :her, now, in thy dear presence kneeling, Our spirits yearn to feel thy kindling love : Now make us ftrong, we need thy deep revealing Of Truft, and Strength, and Calmness, from above.
Jobnssn.
Miscellaneous. 243
THE CONFLICT OF LIFE.
ONWARD, Chriftian, though the region Where thou art be drear and lone : God hath set a guardian legion Very near thee, — press thou on !
Liften, Chriftian, their Hosanna
Rolleth o'er thee, — " God is Love."
Write upon thy red-cross banner, " Upward ever, — heaven's above."
By the thorn-road, and none other,
Is the mount of vifion won ; Tread it without fhrinking, brother!
Jesus trod it, — press thou on !
By thy truftful, calm endeavor, Guiding, cheering, like the sun,
Earth-bound hearts thou (halt deliver : O, for their sake, press thou on !
Be this world the wiser, ftronger, For thy life of pain and peace ;
While it needs thee, O no longer Pray thou for thy quick release ;
244 Miscellaneous.
Pray thou, Chriftian, daily, rather,
That thou be a faithful son ; By the prayer of Jesus, — " Father,
Not my will, but thine, be done ! "
S. Jebi
SPIRITUAL NEEDS.
I WANT the spirit of power within, Of love, and of a healthful mind : Of power to conquer even- fin, Of love to God and all mankind ; Of health that pain and death defies, Molt, vigorous when the body dies.
O, that the Comforter would come, Nor viht as a tranfient guelt, But fix in me his conftant home, And keep pofTeffion of mv breafl: ; And make my soul his loved abode, The temple of indwelling God !
C. Wesley,
Miscellaneous. 245
JESUS, the only thought of thee With sweetness fills my breaft, But sweeter far it is to see, And on thy beauty feaft. No sound, no harmony so gay,
Can art of mufic frame, No thought can reach, no words can say The sweets of thy bleft name.
Jesus, our hope when we repent,
Sweet source of all our grace ; Sole comfort in our banifhment
O what when face to face ! Jesus ! that name inspires my mind
With springs of life and light ; More than I afk in thee I find,
And languifh in delight.
No art nor eloquence of man
Can tell the joys of love ; Spirits alone can underftand
What they in Jesus prove. Thee then I'll seek, retired apart,
From world and bufiness free WThen these fhall knock, I'll fhut my heart,
And keep it all for thee.
B e : : r s : ~ z ~~. ::.":: .- z ~ - - - - - - ~ - 5
•~.:h Magdalen, to find, In figfas and tears, my Jesus' tomb,
And there refrefh my mind. My tears upon his grave fhall flow,
My fighs the garden fill, Then at his feet myself I'll throw,
Ar.i :>.e:e I'., seek h.s -...;.
OTHOU whose wise paternal Love Hi:-. ::-': ~ v irV. e "• _:: ::•"-. Thy choice I thankfully approve,
Ar.i r:::::i:f 2: :r. i:_::_f :>.r:r.s I ofrer up my life's remains,
I choose the ftate my God ordains.
Cafl as a broken veflel by,
T.-.v -:- ... . :i~ .".: ^:r^rr ::. But while a daily death I die,
T.-v I. ■•••'-; I ;_;-. .- w r 1 «LT. r ? 5 ill : .V
My patience fhall thy glory raise My fiedfait woe proclaim thy praise.
Miscellaneous. 247
ADORATION.
I LOVE my God, but with no love of mine, For I have none to give ; I love thee, Lord ; but all the love is thine,
For by thy life I live. I am as nothing, and rejoice to be Emptied, and loft, and swallowed up in thee.
Thou, Lord, alone, art all thy children need,
And there is none befide ; From Thee the ftreams of blefTedness proceed,
In Thee the bleft abide, — Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace, Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place.
Madame Guy on.
FRIEND SORROW.
DO not cheat thy heart, and tell her " Grief will pass away — " Hope for fairer times in future, " And forget to-day."
248 Miscellaneous.
Tell her, if you will, that Sorrow
Need not come in vain — Tell her, that the leflbn taught her
Far outweighs the pain.
Cheat her not with the old comfort
" Soon me will forget." Bitter truth, alas ! but matter
Rather for regret. Bid her not seek other pleasures,
Turn to other things. But rather nurse her caged Sorrow
Till the captive fings.
Rather bid her go forth bravely,
And the ftranger greet ; Not as foe, with fhield and buckler,
But as dear friends meet. Bid her with a ftrong clasp hold her
By her dufky wings : And {he'll whisper low and gently,
Bleflings that me brings.
A. A. Procter.
Miscellaneous. 249
LABOR AND REST. Two hands upon the breaft, and labor is part." — Russian Proverb.
" ^WO hands upon the breaft,
-1 And labor's done : Two pale feet crofTed in reft —
The race is won : Two eyes with coin-weights fhut,
And all tears cease : Two lips where grief is mute And wrath at peace. " So pray we oftentimes, mourning our lot ; God in his kindness answereth not.
" Two hands to work addreft
Aye for his praise : Two feet that never reft
Walking his ways : Two eyes that look above Still, through all tears : Two lips that breathe but love, Nevermore fears." So cry we afterwards, low at our knees : Pardon those erring prayers ! Father, hear these !
Z>. M. Muloch.
250 Miscellaneous.
GOD IS LOVE.
EARTH, with her ten thousand flowers, Air, with all its beams and mowers, All around, and all above, Hath this record, " God is love."
Sounds among the vales and hills, In the woods, and by the rills, All these songs, beneath, above, Have one burthen, " God is love."
All the charities that ftart From the fountains of the heart, These are voices from above, Sweetly whispering, " God is love."
Earth with her ten thousand flowers, Air, with all its beams and mowers, All are voices from above, Loudly sounding, " God is love.,,
Miscellaneous, 25 1
COULD'ST THOU NOT WATCH ONE HOUR?
THY night is dark — behold the (hade was deeper In the old garden of Gethsemane, When that calm voice awoke the weary fleeper,
— Could'ft thou not watch one hour alone with me ?
O, thou so weary of thy self-denials,
And so impatient of thy little cross, Is it so hard to bear thy daily trials,
To count all earthly things a gainful loss ?
What if thou always suffer tribulation,
And if thy Chriftian warfare never cease ;
The gaining of the quiet habitation, Shall gather thee to everlafting peace.
But here we all muft suffer, walking lonely The path that Jesus once himself hath gone ;
Watch thou in patience through this hour only, This one dark hour before the eternal dawn.
The captive's oar may pause upon the galley, The soldier fleep beneath his plumed creft,
And peace may fold her wing o'er hill and valley, But thou, O Chriftian, muft not take thy reft.
252 Miscellaneous.
Thou muft walk on, however man upbraid thee, With Him who trod the wine-press all alone ;
Thou wilt not find one human hand to aid thee, One human soul, to comprehend thine own.
Heed not the images forever thronging
From out the foregone life thou liveft no more,
Faint-hearted mariner, ftill art thou longing For the dim line of the receding fhore.
Wilt thou find reft of soul in thy returning To that old path thou haft so vainly trod r
Haft thou forgotten all thy weary yearning To walk among the children of thy God ?
Faithful and fteadfaft in their consecration, Living by that high faith to thee so dim,
Declaring before God their dedication,
So far from thee, because so near to him.
Can'ft thou forget thy Chriftian superscription — " Behold we count them happy which endure ? "
What treasure would'ft thou in the land Egyptian, Repass the ftormy water to secure ?
And wilt thou yield thy sure and glorious promise For the poor fleeting joys earth can afford ?
No hand can take away the treasure from us That refts within the keeping of the Lord.
_
Miscellaneous. 253
Poor wandering soul — I know that thou art seeking Some eafier wav, as all have sought before
To filence the reproachful inward speaking — Some landward path unto an ifland more !
The cross is heavv in thy human measure, The way too narrow for thine inward pride,
Thou can'ft not lay thine intellectual treasure At the low footftool of the Crucified.
O, that thy faithless soul, one hour only
Would comprehend the Chriftian's perfect life,
Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely, Yet calmly looking upward in its ftrife.
For poverty and self-renunciation,
Their Father yieldeth back a thousand fold ; In the calm ftillness of regeneration,
Cometh a joy they never knew of old.
In meek obedience to the heavenly Teacher, Thy weary soul can only find its peace,
Seeking no aid from any human creature ; Looking to God alone for his release.
And He will come in his own time and power, To set his earneft-hearted children free ;
Watch only through this dark and painful hour And the bright morning yet will break for thee.
254 Miscellaneous.
THE SACRIFICE.
OALL ye who pass by, whose eyes and mind To worldly things are fharp, but to me blind,- To me, who took eyes that I might you find ; —
Was ever grief like mine ?
Mine own apoftle, who the bag did bear, Though he had all I had, did not forbear To sell me also, and to put me there.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Judas, doff thou betray me with a kiss ? Can'ft. thou find hell about my lips, and miss Of life, juft at the gates of life and bliss ?
Was ever grief like mine ?
See, they lay hold on me ; not with the hands Of faith, but fury. Yet, at their commands, I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands.
Was ever grief like mine?
All my disciples flee ; fear put a bar Betwixt my friends and me. They leave that Star That brought wise men out of the Eaft from far.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Miscellaneous. 255
Ah ! how they scourge me ! yet my tenderness Doubles each lam. And yet, their bitterness Winds up mv grief to a myfteriousness.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Then on mv head a crown of thorns I wear \ For these are all the grapes Zion doth bear, Though I my vine planted and watered there.
Was ever grief like mine ?
So fits the earth's great curse, in Adam's fall, Upon my head ; so I remove it all From th* earth unto my brows, and bear the thrall.
Was ever grief like mine ?
The soldiers also spit upon that face Which angels did defire to have the grace, And prophets, once, to see, but found no place.
Was ever grief like mine ?
But, 0 my God! my God ! why leaveft thou me, Thv Son, in whom thou doft. delight to be r
My God ! My God !
Never was grief like mine !
Shame tears my soul, my body manv a wound j — Sharp nails pierce this, but fharper that confound ; Reproaches, which are free while I am bound.
Was ever grief like mine ?
256 Miscellaneous.
Now heal thyself^ Physician ! now come down !
Alas ! I did so, when I left my crown,
And Father's smile, for you to feel his frown.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Betwixt two thieves I spend my utmoft breath,
As he that for some robbery suffereth.
Alas ! what have I ftolen from you ? Death.
Was ever grief like mine ?
They gave me vinegar mingled with gall, —
But more with malice. Yet, when they did call,
With manna, angels' food, I fed them all.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Nay, after death, their spite mail further go ;
For they will pierce my side, I full well know ; —
That, as fin came, so sacraments might flow.
Was ever grief like mine ?
But now I die. Now all is finifhed —
My woe, man's weal: and now I bow my head.
Only let others say, when I am dead,
Never was grief like mine !
George Herbert.
Mis eel la n eous . 257
wn
THE CHARMER.
need some Charmer, for our hearts are sore
ith longings for the things that may not be — Faint for the friends that mail return no more Dark with diftruft, or wrung with agony.
" What is this life r And what to us is Death ?
Whence came we ? whither go ? And where are those Who in a moment ftricken from our fide
Paired to that land of fhadow and repose.
" Are they all duft ? and duft muft we become ?
Or are they living in some unknown clime ? Shall we regain them in that far-off home,
And live anew bevond the waves of time ?
" Oh man divine ! — on thee our souls have hung, Thou wert our teacher in these queftions high ;
But ah ! this day divides thee from our fide, And veils in duft thy kindly guiding eye."
So spake the youth of Athens, weeping round When Socrates lay calmly down to die —
So spake the Sage, prophetic of the hour
When Earth's fair Morning Star mould rise on high.
258 Miscellaneous.
They found him not, those youths of soul divine Long seeking, wandering, watching on life's more :
Reasoning, aspiring, yearning for the light,
Death came and found them — doubting as before.
But years pafTed on — and lo ! the Charmer came Pure, filent, sweet as comes the filver dew —
And the world knew him not — he walked alone Encircled only by his trufting few.
Like the Athenian Sage — rejected, scorned,
Betrayed, condemned, his 'day of doom drew nigh,
He drew his faithful few more closely round, And told them that His hour was come to die.
"Let not your heart be troubled," then He said: My Father's house has manfions large and fair \
I go before you to prepare your place ;
I will return to take you with me there. —
And fince that hour the awful foe is charmed,
And life and death are glorified and fair : Whither He went we know — the way we know, And with firm ftep press on to meet Him there.
H. B. Stowe.
MiiceUam 259
THE CALM OF THE SOUL.
WHEN winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful ftillness reigneth, evermore.
Far, far beneath, the noise of tempefts dieth, And filver waves chime ever peacefully,
And no rude ftorm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Difturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.
So to the heart that knows thv love, O Pureft !
There is a temple, sacred evermore, And all the babble of life's angry voices,
Dies in hufhed ftillness, at its peaceful door.
Far, far away, the roar of paflion dieth,
And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefullv,
And no rude ftorm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Difturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in thee.
O reft of refts ! O peace, serene, eternal !
Thou ever liveft, and thou changeft never ; And in the secret of thy presence dwelleth
Fulness of joy, forever and forever.
H. B. Stmue.
260 Miscellaneous.
WHEN I AWAKE I AM STILL WITH THEE.
STILL, ft ill with Thee — when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the fhadows flee ; Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, / am with T
Alone with Thee — amid the mvftic fhadows, The solemn hufh of nature newly born ;
Alone with Thee in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and frefhness of the morn.
As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean, The image of the morning ftar doth reft,
d this ftillness, Thou beholdeft only Thine image in the waters of my breaft.
Still, ftill with Thee ! as to each new-born morning A frefh and solemn splendor ftill is given,
So doth this bleffed consciousness awak
Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and Heaven.
When finks the soul, subdued by toil, to (lumber, Its clofing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; : the repose beneath thv wings o'erfhading But sweeter ftill, to wake and find Thee there.
Miscellaneous. 261
So fhall it be at laft, in that bright morning, When the soul waketh, and life's fhadows flee ;
Oh ! in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious thought, / am with Thee !
H. B. Stowe.
ORDINATION HYMN.
CHRIST to the young man said : <c Yet one thing more j If thou would'ft perfect be, Sell all thou haft and give it to the poor, And come and follow me ! "
Within this temple Chrift again, unseen,
Those sacred words hath said, And his invifible hands to-day have been
Laid on a young man's head.
And evermore befide him on his way
The unseen Chrift mail move, That he may lean upon his arm and say,
" Doft thou, dear Lord, approve ? "
Befide him at the marriage feaft fhall be,
To make the scene more fair ; Befide him in the dark Gethsemane
Of pain and midnight prayer.
262 Miscellaneous.
O holy truft ! O endless sense of reft !
Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breaft,
And thus to journey on !
Longfellow.
HYMN FOR LENT.
OWEEP for them who never knew The mother of our love, And fried thy tears for orphan ones,
Whom angels mourn above ; The wandering fheep — the ftraying lambs,
When wolves were on the wold, That left our Shepherd's little flock, And ventured from his fold.
Nay, blame them not ! for them, the Lord
Hath loved as well as you : But O, like Jesus, pray for them
Who know not what they do : O plead as once the Saviour did,
That we may all be one, That so the cruel world may know
The Father sent the Son.
Miscellaneous. 263
O let thv Lenten litanies
Be full of prayer for them ! O go ye to the scattered fheep
Of Israel's parent Item ! O keep thy faft for Chriftendom !
For Christ's dear body mourn ; And weave again the seamless robe,
That faithless friends have torn.
Ye love your dear home-feftivals,
With every month entwined ; O weep for them whose sullen hearths
No Chriftmas garlands bind ! Those Iceland regions of the faith
No changing seasons cheer, While our sweet paths drop fruitfulness,
Through all the joyous year.
What though some borealis-beams
On even them may flare ; Pray God the sunlight of his love
May rise serenely there ! For flamy gleams, O plead the Lord
To give his daily ray ! With heavenly light at morn and eve
To thaw their wintry way.
O weep for those, on whom the Lord While here below did weep,
264 Miscellaneous.
Left grievous wolves mould enter in,
Not sparing of his fheep ; And eat thy bitter herbs awhile,
That when our Feaft is spread, These too — that gather up the crumbs,
May eat the children's bread.
A. C. Coxe.
THE BLESSING AFTER SERVICE.
THE peace which God beftows, Through him who died and rose, The peace the Father giveth through the Son, Be known in every mind, The broken heart to bind, And bless each traveller as he journeys on.
Ye who have known to weep,
Where your beloved fleep, Ye who have raised the deep, the bitter cry,
God's blefting be as balm,
The fevered soul to calm, And wondrous peace the troubled mind supply.
Young man, whose cheek is bright With nature's warmeft light,
Miscellaneous. 265
While youth and health thy veins with rapture swell
Let the remembrance be
Of thy God bleft to thee, Peace paffing understanding guard thee well.
Parents, whose thoughts afar,
Turn where your children are, In their ftill graves, or beneath foreign fkies, —
This hour, God's blefling come
Cheer the deserted home, And peace, with dove-like wings, around you rise.
Ere this week's ftrife begin,
The war without, within, The God of Love, with spirit and with power,
Now on each bended head,
His wondrous bleffing fhed, And keep you all through every troubled hour.
266 Miscellaneous.
STRENGTH. (To an Invalid.)
" W/HEN l am weak' pm ftrons>"
» * The great Apoflle cried. The ftrength that did not to the earth belong, The might of Heaven supplied.
u When I am weak, I'm ftrong," Blind Milton caught that {train, And flung its victory o'er the ills that throng Round Age, and Want, and Pain.
" When I am weak, Pm ftrong," Each Chriftian heart repeats ; These words will tune its feebleft breath to song, And fire its languid beats.
O Holy Strength ! whose ground Is in the heavenly land ; And whose supporting help alone is found In God's immortal hand !
Miscelbnutus. 267
O blefled ! that appears When flefhly aids are spent; And eirds the mind, when moft it faints and fears, With truft and sweet content.
It bids us call afide All thoughts of lefler powers ; — Give up all hopes from changing time and tide, And all vain will of ours.
We have but to confess That there's but one retreat: And meekly lay each need and each diftress Down at the Sovereign feet ; —
Then, then, it fills the place Of all we hoped to do ; And sunken Nature triumphs in the Grace, That bears us up and through.
A better glow than health Flufhes the cheek and brow, The heart is stout with store of nameless wealth : — We can do all things now.
No less sunicience seek ; All counsel less is wrong ; The whole world's force is poor, and mean, and weak ; — " When I am weak, I'm strong."
N. L. Froth ingh am.
268 Miscellaneous.
CALL TO THE PRODIGAL.
RETURN, O wanderer, return, And seek thy Father's face ; Those new defires that in thee burn, Were kindled by his grace.
Return, O wanderer, return,
Thy Saviour bids thee live ; Go to his bleeding feet and learn
How Jesus can forgive.
Return, O wanderer, return,
And wipe away the tear ; 'Tis God who says, "No longer mourn, "-
Mercy invites thee near.
Collyer.
Miscellaneous. 269
THE MYSTERY OF CHASTISEMENT. " We glory also in tribulations." — Remans 5 : 5.
WITHIN this leaf, to even* eye S^ little worth, doth hidden lie Molt rare and subtile fragrancy :
Would'st thou its secret ftrength unbind : Cru£h it, and thou fhalt perfume find, Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind.
In this dull ftone, so poor, and bare Of lhape or luitre, patient care Will find for thee a jewel rare.
But firft muft fkilful hands efTay, With file and flint, to clear away The film, which hides its fire from day.
This leaf? this ftone ? It is thy heart: It muft be crufhed by pain and smart, It muft be cleansed by sorrow's art —
270 Miscellaneous.
Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, Ere it will fhine, a jewel meet To lay before thy dear Lord's feet.
S. JVilberforce.
PROVIDENCE.
SINCE all the coming scenes of time God's watchful eye surveys, O who so wise to choose our lot, And regulate our ways ?
Since none can doubt his equal love,
Immeasurably kind, To his unerring gracious will,
Be every wifh refigned.
Good when He gives, supremely good,
Nor less when He denies ; E'en crofTes from his sovereign hand,
Are bleffings in disguise.
Hervey.
<$%£?>
Miscellaneous. ill
"MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND."
Psalm 31 : 15.
" IX/TY times are in thy hand," -i-Tj. My God, I'd have them there ;
My life, my friends, my soul, I leave Entirely to thy care.
" My times are in thy hand,"
Whatever they may be ; Pleafing or painful, dark or bright,
As beft may seem to Thee.
"My times are in thy hand," Why mould I doubt or fear ?
My Father's hand will never cause His child a needless tear.
" My times are in thy hand,"
I'll always truft in Thee : And after death, at thy right hand
I fhall for ever be.
2~ 2 Miscellaneous.
HE LEADS HIS OWN.
" I will lead them in the paths they have not known."
Isaiah 42 : 16.
HOW few who, from their youthful day, Look on to what their life may be ; Painting the vifions of the way
In colors soft, and bright, and free. How few who to such paths have brought The hopes and dreams of early thought !
For God, through ways they have not known, Will lead his own.
The eager hearts, the souls of fire,
Who pant to toil for God and man ; And view with eyes of keen defire
The upland way of toil and pain ; Almoft with scorn they think of red:, Of holy calm, of tranquil breaft,
But God, through wavs they have not known, Will lead his own.
A lowlier tafk on them is laid, — With love to make the labor light :
Miscellayieous. 273
And there their beauty they muft fried
On quiet homes and loft to fight. Changed are their vifions high and fair, Yet calm, and ftill, they labor there j
For God, through ways they have not known, Will lead his own.
The gentle heart that thinks with pain,
It scarce can lowlieft tafks fulfil ; And, if it dared its life to scan,
Would afk but pathway low and ftill. Often such lowly heart is brought To act. with power beyond its thought j
For God, through ways they have not known, Will lead his own.
And they, the bright, who long to prove,
In joyous path, in cloudless lot, How frefh from earth their grateful love
Can spring without a ftain or spot, — Often such youthful heart is given The path of grief, to walk in Heaven ;
For God, through ways they have not known, Will lead his own.
What matter what the path fhall be ?
The end is clear and bright to view ; We know that we a ftrength fhall see,
Whate'er the day may bring to do,
R
274 Miscellaneous.
We see the end, the house of God, But not the path to that abode ;
For God, through ways they have not known, Will lead his own.
CORRECTION NEEDED.
" Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punish- ment of his fins ? " — Lamentations 3 : 39.
WISH not, dear friends, my pain away ; Wifh me a wise and thankful heart, With God, in all my griefs, to ftay, Nor from his loved correction ftart.
The dearefl offering He can crave, His portion in our souls to prove, What is it to the gift He gave, The only Son of his dear love ?
In life's long fickness, evermore Our thoughts are toffing to and fro : We change our pofture o'er and o'er, But cannot reft, nor cheat our woe.
Miscellaneous. 275
Were it not better to lie ftill, Let Him ftrike home, and bless the rod ? Never so safe as when our will Yields, undiscerned by all, to God.
Keble.
DETAINED FROM THE SANCTUARY.
" For I had gone with the multitude ; I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holy day." — Psalm 42 : 4.
SWEET Sabbath bells ! I love your voice, — You call me to the house of prayer ; Oft have you made my heart rejoice, When I have gone to worfhip there.
But now, a prisoner of the Lord,
His hand forbids, I cannot go ; Yet may I here his love record,
And here the sweets of worfhip know.
Each place alike is holy ground,
Where prayer from humble souls is poured ; Where praise awakes its filver sound,
Or God is filently adored.
L_.
2 7 6 Miscellaneous .
His sanctuary is the heart, —
There, with the contrite, will he reft ; Lord, come, a Sabbath frame impart,
And make thy temple in my breaft.
CLINGING TO JESUS.
" Seeing then we have a great high priest that is passed into the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession."
Heb. 4 : 14.
HOLY Saviour, friend unseen, Since on thy arm thou bid'ft me lean, Help me throughout life's varying scene,
By faith to cling to thee !
Bleft with this fellowfhip divine,
Take what thou wilt, I'll ne'er repine ;
E'en as the branches to the vine,
My soul would cling to thee !
Far from her home, fatigued, oppreft, Here fhe has found her place of reft ; An exile ftill, yet not unbleft,
While fhe can cling to thee !
Miscellan eous . 277
Oft, when I seem to tread alone
Some barren wafte with thorns o'ergrown,
Thy voice of love, in tenderer!: tone,
Whispers, " frill cling to me ! "
Though faith and hope may oft be tried, I afk not, need not, aught befide ; How safe, how calm, how satisfied,
The soul that clings to thee !
Bleft is my lot, whate'er befall ; What can difturb me, what appall, Whilft as my rock, my ftrength, my all,
Saviour ! I cling to thee ?
COMMITTING THE SOUL TO THE SAVIOUR.
" Into thy hand I commit my spirit ; thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth." — Psalm 31:5.
MY spirit on thy care, Bleft Saviour, I recline j Thou wilt not leave me to despair, For thou art love divine.
278 Miscellaneous .
In thee I place my truft,
On thee I calmly reft; I know thee good, — I know thee juft,
And count thy choice the best.
Whate'er events betide,
Thy will they all perform ;
Safe in thy breaft my head I hide Nor fear the coming ftorm.
Let good or ill befall,
It muft be good for me ;
Secure of having thee in all, Of having all in thee.
LORD, I BELIEVE.
" Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief." — Mark 9 : 24.
YES, I do feel, my God, that I am thine ; Thou art my joy — myself, mine only grief; Hear my complaint, low bending at thy fhrine, — " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief."
Miscellaneous. 279
Unworthy, even, to approach so near,
My soul lies trembling like a summer's leaf;
Yet, O forgive ! I doubt not, though I fear, — " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief."
True, I am weak, ah, very weak ; but then I know the source whence I can draw relief;
And, though repulsed, I ftill can plead again, — " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief."
O, draw me nearer ; for, too far away, —
The beamings of thy brightness are too brief;
While faith, though fainting, ftill have ftrength to pray, — u Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief."
Monsell
DOWN the dark future, through long generations, The sounds of war grow fainter, and then cease ; And like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Chrift say, " Peace ! "
Peace ! and no longer, from its brazen portals The blaft of war's great organ makes the fkies ;
But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Longfellow.
280 Miscellaneous.
CHRIST UNCHANGING.
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever."
Heb. 13:8.
CHANGE is written everywhere, Time and death o'er all are ranging ; Seasons, creatures, all declare,
Man is mortal, earth is changing.
Life, and all its treasures, seem
Like a sea in conftant motion ; Thanks for an eternal beam
Shining o'er the pathless ocean.
One by one, although each name
Providence or death will sever ; Jesus Chrift is ftill the same,
Yefterday, to-day, forever.
eSTCs
Miscellaneous . 281
N
"I SHALL BE SATISFIED."
OT here ! — not here ! Not where the sparkling waters Fade into mocking sands as we draw near :
Where in the wilderness each footftep falters — " I fhall be satisfied ; " but, O ! not here !
Not here — where all the dreams of bliss deceive us, Where the worn spirit never gains its goal ;
Where, haunted ever by the thought that grieves us, Across us floods of bitter memory roll.
There is a land where every pulse is thrilling With rapture earth's sojourners may not know,
Where heaven's repose the weary heart is {filling, And peacefully life's time-tofTed currents flow.
Far out of fight, while yet the flefh infolds us, Lies the fair country where our hearts abide,
And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us Than these few words — " I fhall be satisfied."
Satisfied ! Satisfied ! The spirit's yearning
For sweet companionfhip with kindred minds —
The filent love that here meets no returning — The inspiration which no language finds —
282 Miscellaneous.
Shall they be satisfied ? The soul's vague longing — The aching void which nothing earthly fills ?
O ! what defires upon my soul are thronging As I look upward to the heavenly hills.
Thither my weak and weary fteps are tending — Saviour and Lord! with thy frail child abide!
Guide me toward Home, where all my wanderings ending, I shall see thee, and "Jball be satisfied"
FROM "THE CHERUBIC PILGRIM,'
The Dew and the Rose. OD'S spirit falls on me as dew-drops on a rose, but like a rose to him my heart unclose.
GOD'! If I
The Tabernacle. The soul wherein God dwells — what church can holier
be?— Becomes a walking tent of heavenly majefty.
The Difference. Ye know God but as Lord, hence Lord his name with ye, I feel him but as Love, and Love his name with me.
Miscellaneous . 283
— 1
Chrijl must be Born in Thee. Though Chrift a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, If He's not born in thee, thy soul is ftill forlorn.
The Outward Profiteth Not. The cross on Golgotha will never save thy soul, The cross in thine heart alone can make thee whole.
The only Want's in Thee. Ah, would thy heart but be a manger for the birth, God would once more become a child upon the earth.
The Seasons of the Day. In Heaven is the day, in Hell below, the night; 'Tis twilight here on Earth : confider this aright !
The loveliest Tone. In all Eternity, no tone can be so sweet As where man's heart with God in unison doth beat.
Magnet and Steel. God is a magnet ftrong ; my heart, it is the fteel, 'Twill always turn to Him, if once his touch it feel.
Love's Transubstantiation. Whate'er thou loveft, man, that too become thou muft : God — if thou loveft God ; Duft — if thou loveft duft.
: v _ MiscelL:
Tht Well is Deep. Why fhould'ft thou cry for drink ? The fountain is in thee, Which so thou ltopp'lt it not, will flow eternallv.
John 4 : 1 1 .
T: Theologians.
:n this span of time, God's name ye will unfold, Which in eternities can never quite be told.
BUJubuss.
The soul that's truly bleft, knows not of selfifhness ; She is one light with God, with God one BlelTedness.
Old and Young. Thou smileft at the child that cryeth for his toys, Are they less toys, old man, that cause thy griefs and joys ?
// is Here. Why travel over seas to find what is so near : Love is the only good ; love and be blefled here.
Spiritual Sun and 34, Be Jesus thou mv Sun, and let me be thv moon, Then will my darkeft night be changed to brighten1 noon.
The Spiritual Mcunt. I am a mount in God, and mull myself ascend, Shall God, to speak to me, upon my top descend.
_
Miscellaneous. 285
Life in Death, In God alone is Life, without God is but death, An endless godless life were but a life in death.
Wisdom a Child. We afk how Wisdom can thus play in children's guise? Why Wisdom is a child, so's every man that's wise.
The Valley and the Rain. Let but thy heart, O man ! become a valley low, And God will rain on it till it will overflow.
Divine Music. A quiet patient heart that meekly serves his Lord, God's finger joys to touch ; it is his harpfichord.
How we can see God. God dwelleth in a light far out of human ken, Become thyself that light, and thou wilt see Him then.
God's Work and Reft. God never yet has worked, nor did He ever reft, His reft is aye his work, his work is aye his reft.
Great Gifts and small Receivers. Our great God always would the greateft gifts impart, If but his greateft gifts found not so small a heart.
286 Miscellaneous.
T: the Reader. Let, Reader, this suffice. But fhould'ft thou wifh for more, Then read in thine own heart a page of mvftic lore.
Angelus Silesius.
FROM ALGER'S ORIENTAL POETRY.
The Beatific Vifion.
THE dazzling beauty of the Loved One {nines unseen, And selfs the curtain o'er the road ; away, O screen !
The Luminous Truth. "Who will give me his heart," said God, " mv love he fhall
find." With that speech a resplendent sun fell into my mind.
The Ttvt Travellers. Says God : " Who comes towards Me an inch through
doubtings dim, In blazing light I do approach a yard towards him."
All is Safe. Whatever road I take, it joins the ftreet Which leadeth all who walk it Thee to meet.
Miscellaneous. 287
The Divine Judgment. God afks, not " To what sect did he belong ? " But " Did he do the right, or love the wrong ? "
Precept without Practice. Who learns and learns, but a£ts not what he knows, Is one who ploughs and ploughs, but never sows.
A Rank in Joys. My heart ! abftain thou from the senses' dear wine-bowl -, Diviner joys thy God intends fhall through thee roll.
Nip the Bud. A sprout of evil, ere it has ftruck root, With thumb and finger one up-pulls : To {tart it, when grown up and full of fruit, Requires a mighty yoke of bulls.
Swift Opportunity. A thousand years a poor man watched Before the gate of Paradise : But while one little nap he snatched, It oped and fhut. Ah ! was he wise ?
Squandered Touth. Ah, five-and-twenty years ago had I but planted seeds of
trees, How now I mould enjoy their made, and see their fruit
swing in the breeze !
288 Miscellaneous.
The Pilgrim to Deity. Heedless, allured, one moment I forgot mv goal : A thousand years it ftretched the journev of my soul.
The Pledge and the Thing. This life is a dim pledge of friendfhip from our God : Give me the Friend, and the pledge may fink in the sod.
Cling not to aught that may be snatched from o'er the
rim j One fairy tale was all that Jemschid took with him.
God All in All. Exempt from luft, exempt from love of pelf, The wise man acts unconscious of himself. He cares not for his actions' consequence, But feeds devotion's fire with pure incense.
God is his gift, his sacrifice is God ; God is his sacrificial knife and rod, Himself, his altar, altar's flame, the sword ; God also is the worfhip's sole reward.
_
Miscellaneous. 289
THE BEGGAR'S COURAGE.
TO heaven approached a Sufi saint, From groping in the darkness late, And, tapping timidly and faint, Besought admifiion at God's gate.
Said God, " Who seeks to enter here ? " " 'Tis I, dear Friend," the saint replied,
And trembled much with hope and feir. "If it be tbouy without abide."
Sadly to earth the poor saint turned, To bear the scourgings of life's rods ;
But aye his heart within him yearned To mix and lose its love in God's.
He roamed alone through weary years, By cruel men ftill scorned and mocked,
Until, from faith's pure fires and tears, Again he rose, and modeft knocked.
Afked God, " Who now is at the door ? " " It is thyself, beloved Lord ! "
Answered the saint, in doubt no more, But clasped and rapt in his reward, s
290 Miscellaneous.
THE SAYINGS OF RABIA.
I.
A pious friend one dav of Rabia afked How fhe had learned the truth of Allah wholly : By what instructions was her memory tafked ?
How was her heart eitranged from the world's follv ?
She answered, M Thou, who knoweit God in parts, Thy spirit's moods and proceiTes can tell :
I only know that, in mv heart of hearts,
I have despised myself, and loved Him well."
II.
Some evil upon Rabia fell ; And one, who loved and knew her well, Murmured, that God, with pain undue, Should ftrike a child so fond and true. But fhe replied, " Believe and truft That all I suffer- is molt juft. I had, in contemplation, ftriven To realize the joys of heaven ; I had extended Fancv's flights Through all that region of delights ; Had counted, till the numbers failed, The pleasures on the bleft entailed ; Had sounded the eciiatic reft
Miscellaneous. 291
I fhould enjoy on Allah's breaft -y And for those thoughts I now atone, They were of something of my own, And were not thoughts of Him alone."
III.
When Rabia unto Mecca came,
She flood awhile apart, alone ;
Nor joined the crowd, with hearts of flame,
Collected round the sacred ftone.
She like the reft, with toil had crofted The waves of water, rock, and sand 5 And now, as one long tempeft-toffed, Beheld the Raala's promised land.
Yet in her eyes no transport gliftened : She seemed with fhame and sorrow bowed : The fhouts of prayer fhe hardly liftened ; She beat her heart, and cried aloud, —
" O heart ! weak follower of the weak, That thou fhould'ft traverse land and sea, In this far place that God to seek Who long ago had come to thee ! "
292 M:::-..::-.i
■::«;.
IV. Round r. :■'.:' R::::'s sure: in 2 bee
i; Daughter of God! " the youngeft said,
M Endure the Father's chaftening bravely: They who have fteeped their souls in praver,
Can : e :. :."
She answered not, and turned afide,
Though not reproachfully or sadly. u Daughter of God!" the eldeft cried,
rjftain thy Fathers chaftening gladly: They who have learned to pray aright, From Pain's dark well draw up delight."
Then spake £he out, "Your words are :':. .
But oh ! the truth lies deeper still : I know not, when absorbed in prayer,
Pleasure or pain, or good or ill: They who God's face can underftand, Feel not the workings of his hand."
" Hiari Songs,
Miscellaneous . 293
THE TWISTER.
" A twister in twifting would twift him a twift, And, twifting his twift, seven twifts he doth twift; If one twift, in twifting, untwift from the twift, The twift untwifting, untwifts the twift."
A RAVELLED rainbow overhead Lets down to life its varying thread : Love's blue, — joy's gold, — and, fair between, Hope's fhifting light of emerald green ; With, either fide, in deep relief, A crimson Pain, — a violet Grief. Would'ft thou, amid their gleaming hues, Clutch after those, and these refuse ? Believe, — as thy beseeching eyes Follow their lines, and sound the ikies, — There, where the fadelefs glories mine, An unseen angel twifts the twine.
And be thou sure, what tint soe'er The broken rays beneath may wear, It needs them all, that, broad and white, God's love may weave the perfect, light !
Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney,
294 Miscellaneous.
THE HEAVENLY SOWING.
SOWER Divine ! Sow the good seed in me, Seed for eternity. 'Tis a rough barren soil, Yet by Thy care and toil, Make it a fruitful field An hundred fold to yield. Sower Divine, Plough up this heart of mine !
Sower Divine !
Quit not this wretched field Till Thou haft made it yield ; Sow Thou by day and night, In darknefs and in light. Stay not Thy hand, but sow ; Then fhall the harveft grow.
Sower Divine,
Sow deep this heart of mine !
Sower Divine !
Let not this barren clay, Lead Thee to turn away ;
Miscellaneous. 295
Let not my fruitleflhefs
Provoke Thee not to blefs ;
Let not this field be dry,
Refrefh it from on high. Sower Divine, Water this heart of mine !
Rev. Dr. H. Bonar.
ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON. Lyra Germanica.
THO'RT mine, yes, flill thou art mine own ! Who tells me thou art loft ? But yet thou art not mine alone,
I own that He who crolPd My hopes, hath greateft right in thee ; Yea, though He afk and take from me Thee, O my son, my heart's delight, My wifh, my thought, by day and night.
Ah might I wifh, ah might I choose,
Then thou, my ftar, fhould'ft live, And gladly for thy sake I'd lose
All else that life can give. Oh fain I'd say : Abide with me, The sunfhine of my house to be, No other joy but this I crave, — To love thee, darling, to my grave !
296 Miscellaneous.
Thus saith my heart, and means it well,
God meaneth better ftill ; My love is more than words can tell,
H:s love is greater ftill ; I am a father, He the Head And Crown of fathers, whence is ihed The life and love from which have sprung All bleiTed ties in old and your.,:.
I long for thee, my son, my own !
And He who once hath given, Will have thee now beiidc His throne,
To live with Him in Heaven. I cry, alas ! my light, my child ! But God hath welcome on him smiled, And said, u My child, I keep thee near, For there is nougr _~adnels here."
Oh bleiTed word, oh deep decree,
More holv than we think! 'U ith God no grief or woe can be,
X~o bitter cup to drink, No iickening hopes, no want or care, Xo hurt can ever reach him there ; Yes, in that Father's fheltered home I know that sorrow cannot come.
We pais our nights in wakeful thought
For our dear children's sake ; All dav our anxious toil hath sought
How bell: for them to make
Miscellaneous . 297
A future safe from care or need, Yet seldom do our schemes succeed ; How seldom does their future prove What we had planned for those we love !
How many a child of promise fair
Ere now hath gone aftray, By ill example taught to dare
Forsake ChrifVs holy way. Oh fearful the reward is then, The wrath of God, the scorn of men ! The bittereft tears that e'er are fhed Are his who mourns a child mifled.
But now I need not fear for thee,
Where thou art, all is well ; For thou thy Father's face doth see,
With Jesus thou doft dwell ! Yes, cloudlefs joys around him mine. His heart fhall never ache like mine ; He sees the radiant armies glow That keep and guide us here below.
He hears their finging evermore
His little voice too fings, He drinks of wisdom's deepen1 lore,
He speaks of secret things, That we can never see or know, Howe'er we seek or ftrive below, While yet amid the mifts we ftand That veil this dark and tearful land.
2q8 Mis.
Oh that I could but watch afar,
And hearken but awhile To that sweet song that hath no jar,
And see his heavenly smile, As he doth praise the holy God, Who made him pure for that abode ! In tears of joy full well I know This burdened heart would overflow.
And I fhould say : Stay here, mv son, My wild laments are o'er,
0 well for thee that thou hail: won, I call thee back no more ;
But come, thou her}' chariot, come, And bear me swiftlv to that home, Where he with manv a loved one dwells, And evermore of gladnefs tells !
Then be it as my Father wills,
I will not weep for thee ; Thou liveft, joy thv spirit fills,
Pure sunfhine thou doft see, The sunfhine of eternal reft ; Abide, my child, where thou art bleft ;
1 with our friends will inward fare,
And, when God mils, fhall find thee there.
Paul Gcrhardt. 1650.
Miscellaneous. 299
QUIET FROM GOD.
If He giveth quiet, who can make trouble?" — Job 34: 29.
QUIET from God ! It cometh not to frill The vaft and high aspirings of the soul, The deep emotions which the spirit fill, And speed its purpose onward to the goal ; It dims not youth's bright eye,
Bends not joy's lofty brow, No guiltlefs ecftasy
Need in its presence bow.
It comes not in a sullen form, to place
Life's greateft good in an inglorious reft ; Through a dull, beaten track its way to trace, And to lethargic {lumber lull the breaft ; Action may be its sphere,
Mountain paths — boundlefs fields, O'er billows its career :
This is the power it yields.
To sojourn in the world, and yet apart ;
To dwell with God, yet ftill with man to feel j To bear about forever in the heart
The gladnefs which His spirit doth reveal ;
300 AfisctBm
Xot to deem evil gone
From even' earthly scene ; To see the itorm come on,
But feel His fhield between.
It giveth not a ftrength to human kind,
To leave all suffering powerlefs at its feet, But keeps within the temple of the mind A golden altar, and a mercy seat ; A spiritual ark,
Bearing the peace of God :ve the waters dark, And o'er the desert's sod.
How beautiful within our souls to keep
Tr.is treasure, the All-Merciful hath given; To feel, when we awake, and when we fleep, Irs incense round us, like a breeze from heaven ! Quiet at hearth and home,
Where the heart's joys begin ; Quiet where'er we roam, Quiet around, within.
Who fhall make trouble? — not the evil minds
Which like a fhadow o'er creation lower, The spirit peace hath so attuned, finds
There feelings that may own the Calmer* s power ; What may £he not confer,
E'en where fhe muft conderr.:. : They take not peace from her, She may speak peace to them !
Miscellaneous . 301
SEEN AND UNSEEN.
THE wind ahead, the billows high, A whited wave, but sable iky, And many a league of totting sea, Between the hearts I love and me.
The wind ahead : day after day These weary words the sailors say ; To weeks the days are lengthened now, - Still mounts the surge to meet our prow.
Through longing day and lingering night I ftill accuse Time's lagging flight, Or gaze out o'er the envious sea, That keeps the hearts I love from me.
Yet, ah, how fhallow is all grief! How inftant is the deep relief! And what a hypocrite am I, To feign forlorn, to 'plain and figh !
The wind ahead ? The wind is free ! Forevermore it favoreth me, — To mores of God ftill blowing fair, O'er seas of God my bark doth bear.
302 Miscellaneous.
This surging brine / do not sail, This blaft adverse is not my gale ; 'Tis here I only seem to be, But really sail another sea, —
Another sea, pure fky its waves,
Whose beauty hides no heaving graves, —
A sea all haven, whereupon
No haplefs bark to wreck hath gone.
The winds that o'er my ocean run, Reach through all heavens beyond the sun j Through life and death, through fate, through time, Grand breaths of God they sweep sublime.
Eternal trades, they cannot veer, And blowing, teach us how to fleer ; And well for him whose joy, whose care, Is but to keep before them fair.
Oh, thou God's mariner, heart of mine, Spread canvas to the airs divine ! Spread sail ! and let thy Fortune be Forgotten in thy Deftiny !
For Deftiny pursues us well,
By sea, by land, through heaven or hell ;
It suffers Death alone to die,
Bids life all change and chance defy.
Miscellaneous. 303
Would earth's dark ocean suck thee down ? Earth's ocean thou, O Life, malt drown, Shalt flood it with thy finer wave, And, sepulchred, entomb thy grave !
Life loveth life and good : then truft What moft the spirit would, it muft ; Deep wifhes, in the heart that be, Are bloflbms of neceflity.
A thread of Law runs through thy prayer, Stronger than iron cables are ; And Love and Longing toward her goal, Are pilots sweet to guide the soul.
So Life muft live, and Soul muft sail, And Unseen over Seen prevail, And all God's argofies come to fhore, Let ocean smile, or rage and roar.
And so, 'mid ftorm or calm, my bark With snowy wake ftill nears her mark ; Cheerly the trades of being blow, And sweeping down the wind I go.
D. A. Wajfon.
304 AfisctUa*
CHEERFULNESS.
BE merry, man, and tak not sair to mind The wavering or this wretched world of sorrow . To God be humble, to thv friend be kind,
And with thv neighbours gladly lend and borrow ; His chance to-night, it mav be thine to-morrow. Be blvth in hearte for mv aventure,
For oft with wise men it has been said aforow, Without G a no Treasure.
Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends ;
For warid's gain without health naught avails ; Nae gude is r :nly that thou spends,
Remanant all thou bruikes but with bails ;
^::.< to solace when sadnefs thee allails ; In dolour long thy life may not endure,
Wherefore of comfort set up ail thy sails ; Without Gladne fs cs no Treasure.
Follow on pity, flee trouble arid debate, With famous folkes hald thy company \
Be charitable and hum'le in thine eft.. For warldly honour lailes but a day. For trouble in earth tak no melancholy ;
Miscellaneous. 305
Be rich in patience, if thou in gudes be poor;
Who lives merrily he lives mightily; Without Gladnefs availes no Treasure.
JVillicun Dunbar. 1479-1520.
FORGIVENESS.
THE faireft action of our human life Is scorning to revenge an injury; For who forgives without a further ftrife, His adversary's heart to him doth tie. And 'tis a firmer conqueft truly said, To win the heart than overthrow the head.
If we a worthy enemy do find,
To yield to worth it muft be nobly done ; But if of baser metal be his mind,
In base revenge there is no honour won. Who would a worthy courage overthrow, And who would wreftle with a worthlefs foe ?
We say our hearts are great, and cannot yield ;
Because they cannot yield, it proves them poor : Great hearts are tafk'd beyond their power, but seld The weakeft lion will the loudeft roar. Truth's school for certain doth this same allow, — High-heartednefs doth sometimes teach to bow.
. T
306 Miscellaneous.
A noble heart doth teach a virtuous scorn :
To scorn to owe a duty overlong ; To scorn to be for benefits forborne ;
To scorn to lie, to scorn to do a wrong ; To scorn to bear an injury in mind ; To scorn a free-born heart, flave-like to bind.
But if for wrongs we needs revenge muft have,
Then be our vengeance of the nobleft kind : Do we his body from our fury save, And let our hate prevail againft his mind ? What can 'gainft him a greater vengeance be, Than make his foe more worthy far than he ?
Lady Elizabeth Carew. 1 6 13.
Miscellaneous, 307
PATIENCE.
PATIENCE! Why, 'tis the soul of peace: Of all the virtues, 'tis neareft kin of heaven : It makes men look like gods. The beft of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer, — A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit ; The firft true gentleman that ever breathed.
Thomas Dekkar. 1630.
GOD.
SHAKE hands with earth, and let your soul respect Her joys no farther, than her joys reflect Upon her Maker's glory ; if thou swim In wealth, see Him in all ; see all in Him : Sink'ft thou in want, and is thy small cruise spent ? See Him in want, enjoy Him in content ; Conceiv'ft Him lodg'd in crofs, or loft in pain ? In prayer and patience find Him out again.
Francis §)uarles.
|
3o8 |
Miscellaneous, |
|
HEAVEN. |
|
|
r"p*\HER is lyf withoute ony deth, JL And ther is youthe without ony elde; |
|
|
And ther is |
alle manner welthe to welde : |
|
And ther is |
reft without ony travaille ; |
|
And ther is And ther is And ther is |
pees without ony ftrife, alle manner lykinge of lyf : — • bright somer ever to se, |
|
And ther is |
nevere wynter in that countrie : — |
|
And ther is |
more worfhipe and honour, |
|
Than evere And ther is And ther is And ther is |
hade kynge other emperour. grete melodie of aungeles songe, preyfing hem amonge. alle manner frendfhipe that may be, |
|
And ther is |
evere perfect love and charite •, |
|
And ther is |
wisdom without folye, |
|
And ther is |
honefte without vileneye. |
|
Al these a i Ac yutte th Is the fighte In wham re |
man may joyes of hevene call ; e moft sovereyn joye of alle ! of Godde's bright face, fteth alle mannere grace. |
|
Richard Rolle, About 1350. |
Miscellaneous. 309
LOVE.
O WEDDING-GUEST ! this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea ; So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feaft,
'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company !
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends :
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay !
Farewell, farewell ; but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding-gueft ; He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beaft.
He prayeth beft. who loveth beft
All things both great and small ; For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
Coleridge.
}">
HEAR wh2t God, the Lord, hath spoken O my people, feint and few, C :r.::;:!e:5. i~..::e:, r.-;£er.. Fair abodes I build for you ;
Shall no more perplex your wa
Y:_ 'jli\'. r.i~e v:_: -.vi!!s si>. i:::r.. And your gates (hall all be praise.
There, !:ke itrei— s :hi: :'eei :r.e _i::er.
?!eis-rei v. -.".:_: er.: :::_ . r. : 'v . For the Lord, your faith rewarding,
All his bounty (hall bellow: Still in undifhirbed pofleffion
?a:t :.:.i .-.g.v.e: -ir.e?; ill!! re.gr.; Nee: :>._ . :- reel :r::rih:;:.
Hear the voice of war again.
Ye, no more your suns descending
Waning moons no more {hail see . But your griefs forever ending,
Find eternal noon in me : God fhall rise, and mining o'er you,
Change to day the gloom of night 3 He,, the Lord, fhall be your glory,
God your everlafting light.
r
INDEX TO FIRST LINES.
♦
PAGE
A pious friend one day of Rabia afked 290
Ah ! dearest Lord ! I cannot pray 69
All ye who seek a certain cure 79
All ye who seek, in hope and love 99
Answer with all thy pulses, throb and speak 234
At the Cross her station keeping 129
Banished the House of sacred rest 191
Bright Angels who attend 30
Bright Cherubim and Seraphim 98
Bright were the mornings first impearl'd 97
Change is written every where 280
Cheer up desponding soul 28
Christ to the young man said : Yet one thing more .... 261
Come, Holy Ghost, and through each heart 8
Come my soul awake 'tis morning 172
Come, O Creator Spirit blest 20
Come wandering sheep, O come 73
Cometh sunshine after rain 158
Creator Spirit, by whose aid 52
Darker and darker fall around 127
312 Index.
PAGE
Dear Angel ! ever at my side 125
Dear Soul, couldst thou become a child 145
Deepen the wounds thy hands have made 220
Depart awhile each thought of care 19
Do not cheat thy heart, and tell her 247
Down the dark future, through long generations 279
Earth with her ten thousand flowers 250
Ere the morning's busy ray 227
Eternity, Eternity ! 147
Exempt from lust, exempt from love of pelf 288
Faith of our Fathers ! living still 29
Father, I know that all my life 229
Father, in thy mysterious presence kneeling 242
Father of lights ! one glance of thine . w . . 115
Fear not, O little flock, the foe ff^V..^Ut^t^i . 143
Five loving souls, each one as mine 205
From highest Heaven, the Father's Son 119
God liveth ever 150
God's Spirit falls on me . . 282
God, Thou art my Rock of strength 165
God whom I as love have known 175
Grant us a body pure within 17
Great Framer of the earth and sky 6
Hark my soul how every thing 232
Have mercy Thou, most gracious God 36
He is a path if any be misled ... 231
Head of the Hosts in glory 95
Hear what God, the Lord, hath spoken 310
Hear'st thou my soul what serious things 47
Holy Saviour, friend unseen 276
Holy Spirit ! Lord of Light 51
Index.
3J3
PAGE
Holy and innocent were all his ways 114
How few who from their youthful day 272
I come to Thee to-night 223
I love my God but with no love of mine 247
J think when I read the sweet story of old 240
I want the spirit of power within 244
I will not let Thee go 157
I worship thee, sweef Will of God 45
In caves of the lone wilderness thy youth 100
In having all things and not Thee, what have I 231
It is not life upon thy gifts to live 241
It is the fall of eve 217
Jerusalem, thou City blest 120
Jesu, I my Cross have taken 32
Jesu, the very thought of Thee * 75
Jesus, the only thought of Thee 245
Just as I am! without one plea 221
Leave God to order all thy ways 170
Let us arise and watch ere dawn of light 9
Lift up your hearts 43
Lift up your heads ye mighty gates 141
Light ! Light ! Infinite Light ! 74
Light of the soul, O Saviour blest 84
Lo ! cast at random on the wild sea sand 212
Lo ! fainter now lie spread the shades of night 11
Lo ! He comes with clouds descending 89
Lo ! on the slope of yonder shore 106
Lo ! upon the altar lies 116
Look westward, pensive little one 200
Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed 186
Lord, in this dust thy sovereign voice 182
Lord of all power ! at whose command SS
3H
Index.
PAGE
Lord of eternal purity 22
Lord of eternal truth and might 8
Lord what a change within us one short hour 237
Lovely flowers of martyrs, hail 114
Most High and Holy Trinity 163
My child, the counsels high attend 195
My God, accept my heart this day 31
My God, I love Thee not because 37
My Saviour what Thou didst of old 155
My smile is bright, my glance is free 189
My Soul ! what hast thou done for God 61
My spirit longeth for Thee 27
My spirit on thy care :--
My times are in thy hand 171
Nigher still, and still more nigh 85
No track is on the sunny sky 133
Not here, not here, not where the sparkling waters 281
Now at the Lamb's high royal feast 83
Now doth the sun ascend the sky 4
Now let us sit and weep "8
Now rests her soul in Jesus' arms 176
Now while the herald bird of day 14
Now with the rising golden dawn 16
O all ye who pass by, whose eyes and mind 254
O blessed Saint, of snow-white purity 105
O blest Creator of the light 3
O bounteous Framer of the globe 50
O Captain of the Martyr Host 104
O Christ ! the beauty of the angel worlds 101
O come and mourn with me awhile 81
O Faith ! thou workest miracles 34
O for the happy days gone by 66
Index. 315
PAGE
O Friend of souls, how well is me 168
O Heart of fire! misjudged by wilful man 187
O Holy Ghost, Thou fire divine 161
O how I fear Thee, living God 26
O how the thought of God attracts 23
Oh how we pine for truth for something more 236
O it is hard to work for God 39
O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art 77
O Jesus ! King most wonderful * 76
Oh Lord ! how happy should we be 228
Oh that it were as it was wont to be 92
O Thou pure light of souls that love , 87
O Thou the Father's Image blest 10
O Thou true life of all that live • . . . 9
O Thou whose wise paternal Love 246
Oh turn those blessed points, all bathed 91
Onward Christian, through the region 243
O watchman will the night of sin 139
O weep for them who never knew 262
Oh what a load of struggle and distress 235
Our limbs with tranquil sleep refresh'd 5
Perfect in love, Lord can it be 239
Preserve, my Jesus, oh preserve 117
Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control 185
Pure Light of light ! eternal Day . . 13
Pure, meek, with soul serene 108
Return, O wanderer, return 268
Rise, glorious Conqueror, rise 93
Rock of Ages, rent for me 88
Round holy Rabia's suffering bed 292
She once was a lady of honor and wealth ill
Shed kindly light amid the encircling gloom 184
316 Index,
pact
ill the coming scenes of time ; - 0
Sing we the peer! ea leedi ;: uuHji'd Saints 102
Sofl not thy plumage, gentle dove 12
Soldiers of Christ ! arise 59
Some evil upon Rabia fell 293
:•; iri
Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh .... Sweet Sabbath bells, I love your voice 2- :
r.e veil, dear friend :::
The Church is one wide harvest field sc*f
The dazzling beauty of the loved one 256
The light of love is round his feet ... .- -:
The Lord's eternal girts 103
The night is come, like to the day 226
The night is dark — behold the shade was deeper
The Lih ;: r.ii\v. i'i:i':.iin :':.± ±1::':. 2 :
The peace which God bestows
The silver chord in twain is snapp'd 44
The star that heralds in the morn 18
Thee in the hymns or mom we praise bj
There 15 a calm the Poor in Spirit know 133
There is not on the earth a soul so base 181
*.ho seek the throne of grace >}l
Thou art of all created things 155
Thou Grace divine, encircling all 222
Thou loving Maker of mankind ■-
jrd, O Lord, like gentle dews
die Prince of Peace 80
To heaven approached a Sufi sair.: 289
To the ball of that feast came the sinful and fair 6c
T -.v; '.'.-' .:: .p:r. :':.± z:tn: i-}
Upon our fainting souls distil 17
Index. 317
PAGE
We need some Charmer, for our hearts are sore 257
We watch'd, as she linger'd all the day 109
What time the Saviour spread his feast 196
When Heaven in mercy gives thy prayers return 199
When I am weak, I'm strong 266
When I look back upon my former race 184
When I sink down in gloom or fear 190
When Rabia into Mecca came 291
When thou dost talk with God 71
When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean 259
What is the Church, and what am I 207
While Thou, O my God, art my help and defender .... 49
Why deck the high cathedral roof 211
Why dost thou beat so quick, my heart 64
Why haltest thus deluded heart 166
Why is thy face so lit with smiles 122
Why should we grudge the hour and house of prayer . . . . 213
Wish not dear friends my pain away 274
Within this leaf to every eye 269
Ye mist and darkness, cloud and storm 15
Yes, I do feel, my God, that I am thine 278
Supplement to Index.
A ravelled rainbow overhead 293
Be merry, man, and tak not sair to mind 304
O wedding-guest ! this soul hath been 309
Patience ! Why, 'tis the soul of peace 307
Quiet from God ! It cometh not to still 299
Shake hands with earth, and let your soul respect 307
Sower Divine ! 294
The wind ahead, the billows high 301
The fairest action of our human life 305
Ther is lyf withoute ony deth 308
Tho'rt mine, yes, still thou art mine own ! 295
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