SOLD By ^F 
 
 HARMST E .„rOO^ STORE 
 
 PH , L .-S-.T£M"RANCE 
 _ A0< ptPOSITQRv 
 
 «1 
 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 Princeton Theological Seminary Library 
 
 http://archive.org/details/earthoOOkebl 
 

THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR 
 
Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear 
 
 Attract us still, and passionate exercise 
 
 Of lofty thoughts, the way before us lies 
 
 Distinct with signs — through which, in fixed career, 
 
 As through a zodiac, moves the ritual year 
 
 Of England's Church— stupendous mysteries! 
 
 Which whoso travels in her bosom, eyes 
 
 As he approaches them, with solemn cheer. 
 
 Enough for us to cast a transient glance 
 
 The circle through. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR 
 
 THOUGHTS IN VERSE 
 
 jFor the Suttfcags an* ffiolgirngs 
 
 THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. 
 
 fn quietness and in confidence shall be your strength. 
 
 Isaiah xxx. 15. 
 
 Second American Edition. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 LEA & BLANCHARD 
 
 1840. 
 
Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1834, by 
 Carey, Lea & Blanchard, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 
 of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 T. K. & P. G. COLLINS, PRINTERS, 
 No. 1 Lodge Alley 
 
MY NEXT FRIEND 
 AND MORE THAN BROTHER, 
 
 THE REV. WILLIAM CROSWELL, 
 
 RECTOR OF CHRIST CHURCH, BOSTON, 
 
 THESE PIOUS BREATHINGS 
 
 A KINDRED SPIRIT 
 
 ARE MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 
 G. W. D. 
 
 St. Mary's Parsonage, 
 
 Burlington, May 27, 1S34. 
 
The annual course of God's great mystery, 
 
 "The Word made flesh." On that with piercing eye 
 The angels gaze. On that the Church invites 
 Her sons to linger. As thereon we muse, 
 
 On each strange scene, or all together wove, 
 A wondrous tissue like the braided hues 
 
 Which blessed the Patriarch's sight, with eye above 
 Uplifted, faith the dear memorials views, 
 
 Signs of past mercy and enduring love. 
 
 Bishop Mant. 
 
Xtttrofcuctfon 
 
 THE AMERICAN EDITOR. 
 
 The Editor's first acquaintance with the "Chris- 
 tian Year" was accidental. In a Uttle volume of 
 Conversations on the Sacraments and Services 
 of the Church of England, written by a lady, 
 those beautiful lines, at the opening of the piece 
 entitled " Holy Baptism" — 
 
 " Where is it, mothers learn their love? 
 
 In every Church a fountain springs 
 O'er which the eternal Dove 
 
 Hovers on softest wings:" — 
 
 attracted his attention, and led him to order it 
 through his bookseller. This was in 1828, the 
 year after its publication. The book, when re- 
 ceived, was read with unmingled delight; and 
 no volume of uninspired poetry has ever given 
 
viii Introduction 
 
 him such rich and continued satisfaction. It has 
 seemed to him, as Charles the Emperor thought 
 of Florence, a book too pleasant to be read "but 
 only on holidays ;"* and he has thought of no- 
 thing more expressive of its delightful, tranquil- 
 lizing spirit, than those lines of holy George 
 Herbert, 
 
 "Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 
 The bridal of the earth and sky." 
 
 From the time of its first reading, the Editor 
 has never ceased to recommend it to his personal 
 friends; and in the "Banner of the Church," 
 and in other ways, to call the public attention to 
 its merits. Many copies have been imported; 
 and there is now an increasing circle of admiring 
 and delighted readers, realizing for our Christian 
 poet, what the greatest of that name desired for 
 himself, 
 
 " Fit audience, though few;" — 
 
 the "magnanimi pochi," to whom Petrarch, kin- 
 
 * "When T sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down 
 these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the emperor did 
 of the city of Florence; that they were too pleasant to be looked 
 on, but only on holidays." 
 
 Isaac Walton, Complete Angler. 
 
By the American Editor. ix 
 
 dred in more respects than one with Milton, 
 made his sublime appeal. 
 
 Strangely enough, though the " Christian 
 Year" has passed through more than twenty- 
 five editions in England,* it found no avenue to 
 the American press, until brought, last summer, 
 to the notice of the intelligent and liberal pub- 
 lishers under whose auspices it now appears. 
 In contemplating an American edition, it was an 
 obvious consideration, that, to a large portion of 
 the admirers of religious poetry, much of the 
 charm of Keble's volume would be lost, by their 
 want of familiarity with the arrangement of the 
 " Christian" or Ecclesiastical "Year," which 
 forms its ground work— the string on which his 
 pearls are hung. The Editor undertook to sup- 
 ply this deficiency; and in doing so, he has aimed 
 to perform a service far beyond the additional 
 interest which may thus be given to these 
 " Thoughts in verse." 
 
 * "The almost unexampled popularity of the * Christian 
 Year,' and the 'Rectory of Valehead,' both unquestionably 
 breathing the pure spirit of the olden time, is no unfavourable 
 pregnostie of better times to come." Bishop Jebb. 
 
 A late bookseller's list enumerates, in 8vo. six editions, in 
 I8mo. ten, and in 32mo. nine. 
 
x Introduction 
 
 He frankly avows the purpose of rendering 
 the present enterprise subservient to the higher 
 object of extending the knowledge and the in- 
 fluence of religion, as it is exhibited in the order, 
 institutions and services of the Church. The 
 arrangement of the Ecclesiastical Year, he has 
 always regarded as one of the happiest of pos- 
 sible contrivances for arresting the attention, and 
 maintaining the interest of men, in regard to the 
 great facts of Christianity, while it appeals most 
 powerfully to the purest and strongest sympa- 
 thies of the human heart in their behalf. It is 
 an acknowledged principle of philosophy, that 
 whatever is to make the strongest impression on 
 men, must be made visible,* either to the bodily, 
 or to the '•' mind's eye." Plow extensively this 
 principle is applied in practice to the promotion 
 of secular interests, by pictures, statues, proces- 
 sions, pageants, every one has seen. The blessed 
 Saviour recognised its value in the institution of 
 his few simple, beautiful, visible sacraments. In 
 the reasonable, scriptural and most becoming ap- 
 
 * "Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, 
 Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta ficielibus, et qua? 
 Ipse sibi tradit spectator." 
 
 Horace. 
 
By the American Editor. xi 
 
 pointments of the "Christian Year," the Church, 
 following the example of the divine appoint- 
 ments under the law, has applied this obvious 
 principle to the commemoration of the great facts 
 of Christianity. In the festivals of the Nativity, 
 the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, the Ascension, 
 the divine Saviour seems, year by year, to be 
 visibly set forth in his mighty and merciful acts, 
 performed for our redemption : while in the mi- 
 nor festivals, the blessed weekly feast of Sunday, 
 and the solemn days of preparation and of com- 
 memoration, the glorious and endearing theme 
 is constantly kept up before our eyes and hearts; 
 and "the rolling year," in a sense far higher than 
 the poet's,* " is full of" Him. The effect of this 
 practice, where it has been adopted, has been 
 well seen in the increase of the knowledge of 
 salvation, and in the familiarity, to which even 
 children attain, with the "first principles of the 
 doctrine of Christ." In the additional interest 
 which this little volume will create in these, the 
 most important of all subjects, the Editor expects 
 to find his sufficient reward. 
 
 The Author of these pieces, it has come inci- 
 
 * Thomson's Hymn to the Seasons. 
 
xii Introduction 
 
 dentally to the knowledge of the Editor, while 
 he holds the most honourable office of Professor 
 of Poetry in the University of Oxford, is the 
 exemplary and faithful pastor of a humble coun- 
 try congregation, and devotes himself unsparing- 
 ly to the spiritual welfare of a rustic flock, in 
 which there is scarcely a single family of rank 
 or education. It is in such a school, that the 
 sweetest and most Christian poet of modern days, 
 is fitly taught. So it was that Bemerton, and 
 Little Gidden, and Hod-net, became nurseries of 
 strains that shall never die. God be thanked, 
 that along the tract of ages he still scatters spirits 
 like Hooker's, and Herbert's, and Walton's, and 
 Ken's, and Ferrar's, and Jeremy Taylor's, and 
 Heber's,, and Keble's, — to show how nearly the 
 human may by grace attain to the angelic nature, 
 to enchant our spirits here by the prolusion of 
 those seraphic strains which in heaven are the 
 continual occupation and enjoyment of the saints, 
 — "singing on earth," as Isaak Walton said of 
 Herbert, "such hymns and anthems as the an- 
 gels, and he, and Mr. Ferrar now sing in heaven." 
 In conclusion, the " Christian Year," apart 
 from its high poetical merit, is recommended 
 
By the American Editor. xiii 
 
 most earnestly for its pure, affectionate, and ele- 
 vating character, as a family book. The taste 
 which can appreciate its excellencies, is a Chris- 
 tian taste. The meditation of its eminently spi- 
 ritual strains will tend to spiritualize the heart. 
 And the Christian home, where it is made a 
 household book, will find it fruitful, above almost 
 every book of human origin, in homebred chari- 
 ties and innocent delights. "Then came the 
 long quiet evening," writes one who can well 
 estimate the various merits of a volume which 
 she has done much to draw into general use, 
 " when some of us gathered, as closely as pos- 
 sible, round the bright fire, and listened, while 
 one and another dear voice read some passage 
 from Keble's Christian Year. Soothing, beauti- 
 ful poetry ! well calculated to lift the heart above 
 the cares of this troublesome world, and to light 
 the path with the sunshine of heaven."* 
 
 G. W. I). 
 St. Mary's Parsonage, 
 
 Burlington, July 1, 1834. 
 
 * Scenes in our Parish, by a Country Parson's Daughter. 
 
the notes of the American 
 Editor are enclosed in brackets. 
 
author aRfoertfsemettt. 
 
 Next to a sound rule of faith, there is nothing 
 of so much consequence as a sober standard of 
 feeling in matters of practical religion: and it is 
 the peculiar happiness of the Church of England, 
 to possess, in her authorized formularies, an am- 
 ple and secure provision for both. But in times 
 of much leisure and unbounded curiosity, when 
 excitement of every kind is sought after with a 
 morbid eagerness, this part of the merit of our 
 Liturgy is likely in some measure to be lost, on 
 many even of its sincere admirers: the very 
 tempers, which most require such discipline, 
 setting themselves, in general, most decidedly 
 against it. 
 
 The object of the present publication will be 
 attained, if any person find assistance from it in 
 bringing his own thoughts and feelings into more 
 entire unison with those recommended and ex- 
 
xvi Author's Advertisement. 
 
 emp]ified in the Prayer Book. The work does 
 not famish a complete series of compositions; 
 being, in many parts, rather adapted with more 
 or less propriety to the successive portions of 
 the Liturgy, than originally suggested by them. 
 Something has been added at the end concerning 
 the several Occasional Services: which consti- 
 tute, from their personal and domestic nature, 
 the most perfect instance of that soothing ten- 
 dency in the Prayer Book, which it is the chief 
 purpose of these pages to exhibit. 
 
 May 30, 1827. 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN YEAR 
 
 MORNING 
 
 His compassions fail not. They are new every morning. 
 
 Lament, iii. 22, 23. 
 
 HUES of the rich unfolding- morn, 
 That, ere the glorious sun be born, 
 By some soft touch invisible 
 Around his path are taught to swell; — 
 
 Thou rustling breeze so fresh and gay, 
 That dancest forth at opening day, 
 And brushing by with joyous wing, 
 Wakenest each little leaf to sing; — 
 
 Ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam, 
 By which deep grove and tangled stream 
 Pay, for soft rains in season given, 
 Their tribute to the genial heaven; — 
 
 Why waste your treasures of delight 
 Upon our thankless, joyless sight; 
 Who, day by day, to sin awake, 
 Seldom of heaven and you partake? 
 
 2 
 
14 Morning. 
 
 Oh! timely happy, timely wise, 
 Hearts that with rising morn arise ! 
 Eyes that the beam celestial view, 
 Which evermore makes all things new!* 
 
 New every morning is the love 
 Oar wakening and uprising prove; 
 Through sleep and darkness safely brought, 
 Restored to life, and power, and thought. 
 
 New mercies, each returning day, 
 
 Hover around us while we pray; 
 
 New perils past, new sins forgiven, 
 
 New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. 
 
 If on our daily course our mind 
 
 Be set, to hallow all we find, 
 
 New treasures still, of countless price, 
 
 God will provide for sacrifice. 
 
 Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be, 
 As more of heaven in each we see: 
 Some softening gleam of love and prayer 
 Shall dawn on every cross and care. 
 
 As for some dear familiar strain 
 Untir'd we ask, and ask again, 
 Ever, in its melodious store, 
 Finding a spell unheard before; 
 
 Such is the bliss of souls serene, 
 
 "When they have sworn, and steadfast mean, 
 
 Counting the cost, in all to espy 
 
 Their God, in all themselves deny. 
 
 * Revelations xxi, 5. 
 
Morning. 15 
 
 O could we learn that sacrifice, 
 What lights would all around us rise! 
 How would our hearts with wisdom talk 
 Along life's dullest dreariest walk ! 
 
 We need not bid, for cloister' d cell, 
 Our neighbour and our work farewell, 
 Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
 For sinful man beneath the sky: 
 
 The trivial round, the common task, 
 W 7 ould furnish all we ought to ask; 
 Room to deny ourselves; a road 
 To bring us, daily, nearer Go.d. 
 
 Seek we no more; content with these, 
 Let present Rapture, Comfort, Ease, 
 As Heaven shall bid them, come and go: — 
 The secret this of Rest below. 
 
 Only, Lord, in thy dear love 
 Fit us for perfect rest above; 
 And help us, this and every day, 
 To live more nearly as we pray. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Abide with us, for it is towards evening, and tlie day is far spent. 
 
 St.'Luke xxiv. 29. 
 
 'TIS gone, that bright and orbed blaze, 
 Fast fading from our wistful gaze; 
 Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight 
 The last, faint pulse of quivering light. 
 
16 Evening. 
 
 In darkness and in weariness 
 The traveller on his way must press, 
 No gleam to watch on tree or tower, 
 Whiling away the lonesome hour. 
 
 Sun of my soul ! Thou Saviour dear, 
 It is not night if Thou be near: 
 Oh may no earth-born cloud arise 
 To hide thee from thy servant's eyes. 
 
 When round thy wondrous works below 
 My searching rapturous glance I throw, 
 Tracing out Wisdom, Power and Love, 
 In earth or sky, in stream or grove; — 
 
 Or by the light thy words disclose 
 W T atch Time's full river as it flows, 
 Scanning thy gracious Providence, 
 Where not too deep for mortal sense; 
 
 When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, 
 And all the flowers of life unfold;* 
 Let not my heart within me burn, 
 Except in all I Thee discern. f 
 
 When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
 My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
 Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
 For ever on my Saviour's breast. 
 
 Abide with me from morn till eve, 
 For without Thee I cannot live: 
 
 * [" Les plaisirs sont les fleurs que notre divine Maitre, 
 Dans los routes du inonde, autour de nous fait naitre, 
 Chacmi a sa saison."] 
 t [" Domine, fecisti nos ad te, et inquiet im est cor nostrum donee 
 rcquiescat in te." St. Augustine] 
 
Evening. 17 
 
 Abide with me when night is nigh, 
 For without Thee I dare not die. 
 
 Thou Framer of the light and dark, 
 Steer through the tempest thine own ark: 
 Amid the howling wintry sea 
 We are in port if we have Thee.* 
 
 The Rulers of this Christian land, 
 'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand, — 
 Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright, 
 Let all do all as in thy sight. 
 
 Oh, by thine own sad burthen, borne 
 So meekly up the hill of scorn, 
 Teach Thou thy Priests their daily cross 
 To bear as thine, nor count it loss! 
 
 If some poor wandering child of thine 
 Have spurn'd, to-day, the voice divine, 
 Now, Lord, the gracious work begin; 
 Let him no more lie down in sin. 
 
 Watch by the sick: enrich the poop 
 With blessings from thy boundless store: 
 Be every mourner's sleep to-night, 
 Like infant's slumbers, pure and light. 
 
 Come near and bless us when we wake, 
 Ere through the world our way we take: 
 Till in the ocean of thy love 
 We lose ourselves in heaven above. 
 
 * Then they willingly received Him into the ship; and immediately 
 the ship was at the laud whither they went. St. John vi. 21. 
 
 2* 
 
18 
 
 ADVENT SUNDAY 
 
 Now it is high lime to awake out of sleep: for now is our saltation 
 nearer than when we believed. Romans xiii 11. [Epistle for the Day .] 
 
 [Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of 
 darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this 
 mortal life, in which thy Sou Jesus < hrist came to visit us in great 
 humility; that, in the iast day, when he shall come again in his 
 glorious Majesty to judge both the quick and dead, we may rise to the 
 life immortal, through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the 
 Holy Ghost, now and ever. Amen.Y\ 
 
 AWAKE — again the Gospel-trump is blown — 
 From year to year it swells with louder tone; 
 
 From year to year the signs of wrath 
 
 Are gathering- round the Judge's path: 
 Strange words fulfill'd, and mighty works achiev'd, 
 And truth in all the world both hated and believ'd. 
 
 Awake ! why linger in the gorgeous town, 
 Sworn liegemen of the Cross and thorny crown? 
 
 * [The beginning of that season which commemorates the Advent 
 or coming of our blessed Lord. It has immediate reference to his first 
 coming in the flesh, and so is designed to prepare us for the due cele- 
 bration of the festival of the nativity, commonly called Christmas 
 Day. It has ultimate reference to his second coming in glory, and so 
 is designed to aid us in preparation for the day of final Judgment. 
 The Advent Sundays, of which this is the fir^t, are the four next pre- 
 ceding Christmas. The first Sunday in Advent is always the Sunday 
 nearest to the festival of St. Andrew, whether before or after, lfthnt 
 Sunday fall on the last day of November, then St. Andrew's Day and 
 Advent Sunday coincide. See note on St Andrew's Day. | 
 
 t [Throughout the "Christian Year," the collect for the day, in the 
 book of Common Prayer, will be inserted."] 
 
Advent Sunday. 19 
 
 Up, from your beds of sloth, for shame, 
 
 Speed to the eastern mount like flame, 
 Nor wonder, should ye find your king in tears, 
 Even with the loud Hosanna ringing in his ears. 
 
 Alas ! no need to rouse them: long ago 
 They are gone forth to swell Messiah's show; 
 With glittering robes and garlands sweet 
 They strew the ground beneath his feet: 
 All but your hearts are there — O doom'd to prove 
 The arrows wing'd in Heaven for Faith that will not 
 love!* 
 
 Meanwhile He paces through th' adoring crowd, 
 Calm as the march of some majestic cloud, 
 
 That o'er wild scenes of ocean-war 
 
 Holds its course in heaven afar: 
 Even so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on,f 
 Thou keepest silent watch from thy triumphal throne: 
 
 Even so, the world is thronging round to gaze 
 On the dread vision of the latter days, 
 
 Constrain'd to own Thee, but in heart 
 
 Prepar'd to take Barabbas' part: 
 " Hosanna" now, to-morrow " Crucify," 
 The changeful burden still of their rude lawless cry. 
 
 Yet, in that throng of selfish hearts untrue, 
 Thy sad eye rests upon thy faithful few, 
 
 Children and childlike souls are there, 
 
 Blind Bartimeus' humble prayer, 
 
 * [" And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; 
 others cut down branches from the trees ami strewed them in the way. 
 And the multitudes that, went before, and that followed, cried, 
 Hosanna to the Son of David." — Here was faith in Jesus as the 
 Messiah. The sad catastrophe of the crucifixion too soon proved that 
 it was not the faith which " worketh by love.'' ) 
 
 t [So the apostles, at the election of Matthias, addressing Jesus, 
 " Thou, Lord, who knowest the heart."J 
 
20 Advent Sunday. 
 
 And Lazarus waken'd from his four days' sleep, 
 Enduring life again, that Passover to keep. 
 
 And fast beside the olive-border'd way 
 
 Stands the bless'd home, where Jesus deign'd to stay, 
 
 The peaceful home, to Zeal sincere 
 
 And heavenly Contemplation dear, 
 Where Martha lov'd to wait with reverence meet, 
 And wiser Mary linger'd at thy sacred feet. 
 
 Still, through decaying ages as they glide, 
 Thou lov'st thy chosen remnant to divide; 
 
 Sprinkled along the waste of years, 
 
 Full many a soft green isle appears: 
 Pause where we may upon the desert road, 
 Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode. 
 
 When withering blasts of error swept the sky,* 
 And Love's last flower seem'd fain to droop and die, 
 
 How sweet, how lone, the ray benign, 
 
 On shelter' d nooks of Palestine ! 
 Then to his early home did Love repair,f 
 And cheer'd his sickening heart with his own native air. 
 
 * Arianism in the fourth century. 
 
 f See St. Jerome's Works, i. 123, edit. Erasm. [The- letters of Jerome 
 are full of rural pictures of exceeding beauty. He evidently wrote 
 con amore, with a painter's eye, and a poet's feeling. "Having pass- 
 ed," he says, "so much of my life in agitation, my poor bark now 
 tossed with storms, now shattered against rocks, I betake myself to 
 the retirement of the country, as to a safe and peaceful port. Here, 
 plain bread, roots raised by my own bands, and milk, the peasant's 
 luxury, supply me cheap but wholesome food. So living, we neither 
 suffer hindrance, in our devotions from drowsiness, imr in our studies 
 from satiety. Is it summer, — our trees tempt us with their sheltering 
 sbade. Is it autumn, — the genial temperature of the air deliglits us, 
 while the fallen leaves afford a sift and quiet couch Is it spring — 
 flowers enamel the ground, and the tuneful birds lend to our hymns 
 their sweet accompaniment. And even when winter comes, with 
 storms and sleet, we have wood so cheap that we need neither sleep 
 nor watch unvvarmed." But there was a charm for Jerome, in his 
 retirement, greater even than this. To the eye of a painter and the 
 fancy of a poet, he added, what is far more fertile in enjoyment, the 
 heart of a Christian ; and in his rustic seclusion this had abundant 
 
Advent Sunday. 21 
 
 Years roll away: again the tide of crime 
 
 Has swept thy footsteps from the favour'd clime. 
 
 Where shall the holy Cross find rest? 
 
 On a crown'd monarch's* mailed breast: 
 Like some bright angel o'er the darkling scene, 
 Through court and camp he holds his heavenward course 
 serene. | 
 
 A fouler vision yet; an age of light, 
 Light without love, glares on the aching sight: 
 O who can tell how calm and sweet, 
 Meek Walton ! shows thy green retreat,^ 
 When wearied with the tale thy times disclose, 
 The eye first finds thee out in thy secure repose? 
 
 Thus bad and good their several warnings give 
 Of His approach, whom none may see and live: 
 Faith's ear, with awful still delight, 
 Counts them like minute bells at night, 
 Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn, 
 While to her funeral pile this aged world is borne. § 
 
 gratification. " Here," says he, "clownish though we are, we are all 
 Christians. Psalms alone break the pervading stillness. The plough- 
 man is singing hallelujahs while he turns his furrow. The reaper 
 solaces his toil with hymns. The vineyard-dresser, as he prunes bis 
 vines, chants something from the strains of David. These are our 
 Bongs, and such the notes with which our love is vocal." — I find in the 
 Annals of Modern Missions a beautiful coincidence with the senti- 
 ment of Jerome. " It is now very different from what it used to he," 
 said a native assistant to the Moravian missionaries in Greenland ; 
 "every where you hear the people singing psalms."] 
 
 * St. Louis in the thirteenth century. 
 
 t [Even Gibbon was constrained to say of him, " that he united the 
 viitues of a king, a hero and a man; that his martial spirit was 
 tempered with the love of private and public justice; and that Louis 
 was the father of his people, the friend of his neighbours, and the 
 terror of infidels."] 
 
 X [" Honest Izaak." See his "Complete Angler," which has been 
 well called "an exquisitely pleasing performance;" and his incom- 
 parable lives of Donne, VVotton, Hooker, Herbert and Sanderson.] 
 
 § ["The world is grown old, and her pleasures ai 
 The world is grown old, and her form cannot las 
 
 ire past; 
 1st; 
 The world is grown old, and trembles for fear, 
 For sorrows abound, and judgment is near." 
 
 Bishop Heber.] 
 
22 Advent Sunday, 
 
 But what are heaven's alarms to hearts that cower 
 
 In wilful slumber, deepening every hour, 
 That draw their curtains closer round, 
 The nearer swells the trumpet's sound"? 
 
 Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die. 
 
 Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee 
 nigh.* 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT 
 
 THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES. 
 
 And when these things begin to come to pass, then look np and lift 
 up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh. St. Luke xxi. 2d. 
 [Gospel for the Day.) 
 
 [Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for 
 our learning; grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, 
 learn and inwardly digest them, that by patience, and comfort of thy 
 holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast the blessed hope of 
 everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. 
 Amen.~] 
 
 NOT till the freezing blast is still, 
 Till freely leaps the sparkling rill, 
 
 * [Yet once again thy sign shall be upon the heavens displayed, 
 And earth and its inhabitants be terribly afraid, 
 For not in weakness clad thou com'st, our woes, our sins to bear, 
 But girt with all thy Father's might, his vengeance to declare. 
 
 The terrors of that awful day, Oh! who can understand? 
 
 Or who abide when thou in wrath shalt lift thy holy hand? 
 
 The earth shall quake, the sea shall roar, the sun in heaven grow pale; 
 
 But thou hast sworn, and wilt not change, thy faithful shall not fail. 
 
 Then grant us, Saviour, so to pass our time in trembling here, 
 That when upon the clouds of heaven thy glory shall appear, 
 Uplifting high our joyful heads, in triumph we may rise, 
 And enter, with thine angel train, thy palace in the skies! 
 
 G. W. D] 
 
Second Sunday in Advent. 23 
 
 And gales sweep soft from summer skies, 
 As o'er a sleeping infant's eyes 
 A mother's kiss — ere calls like these, 
 No sunny gleam awakes the trees, 
 Nor dare the tender flow'rets show 
 Their bosoms to th' uncertain glow. 
 
 Why then, in sad and wintry time, 
 Her heavens all dark with doubt and crime, 
 "Why lifts the Church her drooping head, 
 As though her evil hour were fled 1 
 Is she less wise than leaves of spring, 
 Or birds that cower with folded wing? 
 What sees she in this lowering sky 
 To tempt her meditative eye 1 
 
 She has a charm, a word of fire, 
 A pledge of love that cannot tire; 
 By tempests, earthquakes, and by wars, 
 By rushing waves and falling stars, 
 By every sign her Lord foretold, 
 She sees the world is waxing old,* 
 And through that last and direst storm 
 Descries by faith her Saviour's form. 
 
 Not surer does each tender gem, 
 Set in the fig-tree's polish'd stem, 
 Foreshew the summer season bland, 
 Than these dread signs thy mighty hand: 
 But oh ! frail hearts, and spirits dark ! 
 The season's flight unwam'd we mark, 
 But miss the Judge behind the door,f 
 For all the light of sacred lore::}: 
 
 * The world hath lost his youth, and the times begin to wax old. 2 
 Esdras xiv. 10. 
 t See St. James v. 9. 
 \ [Notwithstanding all the light of Scripture.] 
 
24 Second Sunday in Advent. 
 
 Yet is He there: beneath our eaves 
 Each sound his wakeful ear receives: 
 Hush, idle words, and thoughts of ill, 
 Your Lord is listening; peace, be still.* 
 Christ watches by a Christian's hearth, 
 Be silent, " vain deluding mirth," 
 Till in thine alter'd voice be known 
 Somewhat of resignation's tone. 
 
 But chiefly ye should lift your gaze 
 Above the world's uncertain haze, 
 And look with calm unwavering eye 
 On the bright fields beyond the sky, 
 Ye, who your Lord's commission bear, 
 His way of mercy to prepare: 
 Angelst He calls you; be your strife 
 To lead on earth an Angel's life. 
 
 Think not of rest; though dreams be sweet, 
 Start up, and ply your heavenward feet. 
 Is not God's oath upon your head, 
 Ne'er to sink back on slothful bed, 
 Never again your loins untie, 
 Nor let your torches waste and die, 
 Till, when the shadows thickest fall, 
 Ye hear your Master's midnight call ! 
 
 * Ita fabulantur, ut qui sciant Dorainum audire. Tertull. Apolog. 
 p. 36, edit. Rigalt. 
 t [Angels, from the Greek term, meaning messengers or apostles.] 
 
25 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 THE TRAVELLERS. 
 
 What went ye out into the wilderness to see? a reed shaken with the 
 wind ? But what went ye out for to see ? a prophet ? Yea, I say unto 
 you, and more than a prophet. St. Matt. xi. 7, 8. \ Gospel for the Darj.] 
 
 [O Lord Jesus Christ, who, at thy first coming, didst send thy mes- 
 senger to prepare thy way before thee; grant that the ministers and 
 stewards of thy mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready 
 thy way, by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of 
 the just, that, at thy second coming to judge the world, we may be 
 found an acceptable people in thy sfght, who livest and reignest with 
 the Father and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. 
 Amen.\ 
 
 WHAT went ye out to see 
 
 O'er the rude sandy lea, 
 Where stately Jordan flows by many a palm, 
 
 Or where Gennesaret's wave 
 
 Delights the flowers to lave, 
 That o'er her western slope breathe airs of balm'? 
 
 All through the summer night, 
 
 Those blossoms red and bright* 
 Spread their soft breasts, unheeding, to the breeze, 
 
 Like hermits watching still 
 
 Around the sacred hill, 
 W T here erst our Saviour watch'd upon his knees. 
 
 * Rhododendrons: with which the western bank of the lake is said 
 to be clothed down to the water"s edge. 
 3 
 
26 Third Sunday in Advent. 
 
 The Paschal moon above 
 
 Seems like a saint to rove, 
 Left shining in the world with Christ alone; 
 
 Below, the lake's still face 
 
 Sleeps sweetly in the embrace 
 Of mountains terrac'd high with mossy stone. 
 
 Here may we sit and dream 
 
 Over the heavenly theme, 
 Till to our soul the former days return; 
 
 Till on the grassy bed,* 
 
 Where thousands once He fed, 
 The world's incarnate Maker we discern. 
 
 O cross no more the main, 
 
 Wandering so wild and vain, 
 To count the reeds that tremble in the wind, 
 
 On listless dalliance bound, 
 
 Like children gazing round, 
 Who on God's works no seal of Godhead find: 
 
 Bask not in courtly bower, 
 
 Or sun-bright hall of power, 
 Pass Babel quick, and seek the holy land; 
 
 From robes of Tyrian die 
 
 Turn with undazzled eye 
 To Bethlehem's glade, or Carmel's haunted strand. 
 
 Or choose thee out a cell 
 
 In Kedron's storied dell, 
 Beside the springs of Love, that never die; 
 
 Among the olives kneel 
 
 The chill night-blast to feel, 
 And watch the Moon that saw thy Master's agony.f 
 
 * [" Now there was much grass in this place." St. John vi. ]0.] 
 t [The passover, when our Saviour suffered, was alwaya at the full 
 moon] 
 
Third Sunday in Advent. 27 
 
 Then rise at dawn of day, 
 
 And wind thy thoughtful way, 
 Where rested once the Temple's stately shade, 
 
 With due feet tracing - round 
 
 The city's northern bound, 
 To th' other holy garden, where the Lord was laid.* 
 
 Who thus alternate see 
 
 His death and victory, 
 Rising and falling as on angel wings, 
 
 They, while they seem to roam, 
 
 Draw daily nearer home, 
 Their heart untravell'd still adores the King of kings. f 
 
 Or, if at home they stay, 
 
 Yet are they, day by day, 
 In spirit journeying through the glorious land, 
 
 Not for light Fancy's reed, 
 
 Nor Honour's purple meed, 
 Nor gifted Prophet's lore, nor Science' wondrous wand. 
 
 But more than Prophet, more 
 
 Than Angels can adore 
 With face unveil'd, is He they go to seek: 
 
 Blessed be God, whose grace 
 
 Shows him in eveiy place 
 To homeliest hearts of pilgrims pure and meek. 
 
 * [It is worthy of notice that gardens have been the scenes of the 
 three most stupendous events that have occurred on. eartli — the tempt- 
 ation and fall of man. the agony of the Son of God, and his resur- 
 rection from the grave.] 
 
 | [" My heart untravelled still returns to thee." 
 
 Goldsmith's Traveller.] 
 
28 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT.* 
 
 DIMNESS. 
 
 The eyes of them that see shall not bedim, and the ears of them that 
 hear shall hearken. Isaiah xxxii. 3. [First Lesson in the Evening 
 
 Service.'] 
 
 [O Lord, raise up, we pray thee, Ihy power, and come among us, 
 and with great might, succour us ; that whereas, through our sins and 
 wickedness, we are sore let and hindered in running the race that is 
 set before us, thy bountiful grace and mercy may speedily help and 
 deliver us, through the satisfaction of thy Son, our Lord: to whom, 
 with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory, world without 
 end. Amen.'] 
 
 OF the bright things in earth and air 
 
 How little can the heart embrace ! 
 Soft shades and gleaming lights are there — 
 
 I know it well, but cannot trace. 
 
 * [The lines which follow are from the pen of the beloved friend to 
 whom this volume is inscribed. Its pages will afford oilier evidence 
 of the justice with which Ins name has been associated with the 
 honoured name of Keble, as " a kindred spirit." Were he aware of 
 the designed association, his gentle and retiring nature would, I 
 know, forbid it. But one who, for nine years, was with him almost 
 daily, and shared his secret thoughts, must claim to know him better 
 than he knows himself; and he does not fear that Keble will not wel- 
 come the companionship. 
 
 ADVENT. 
 
 "Rejoice in the Lord alway; and asain, I say, Rej :ice. The Lord 
 
 is at hand." Epistle for the last Sunday in Ad rent. 
 
 Now gird your patient loins again, 
 Your wasting torches trim ! 
 
Fourth Sunday in Advent. 29 
 
 Mine eye unworthy seems to read 
 
 One page of Nature's beauteous book: 
 
 It lies before me, fair outspread— 
 I only cast a wishful look. 
 
 I cannot paint to Memory's eye 
 
 The scene, the glance, I dearest love — 
 
 Unchang'd themselves, in me they die, 
 Or faint, or false, their shadows prove. 
 
 In vain, with dull and tuneless ear, 
 
 I linger by soft Music's cell, 
 And in my heart of hearts would hear 
 
 What to her own she deigns to tell. 
 
 'Tis misty all, both sight and sound — 
 
 I only know 'tis fair and sweet — ■ 
 'Tis wandering on enchanted ground 
 
 With dizzy brow and tottering feet. 
 
 The Chief of all the sons of men, 
 
 Who will not welcome him? 
 Rejoice, the hour is near! At length 
 
 The Journeyer on his way 
 Comes in th-! greatness of his strength, 
 
 To keep his holy day. 
 
 With cheerful hymns and garlands sweet 
 
 Along his wintry road, 
 Conduct him to his green retreat, 
 
 His sheltered safe abode; 
 Fill all his court with sacred songs, 
 
 And from the temple wall 
 Wave verdure oVr the joyful throngs 
 
 That crowd his festival. 
 
 And still more greenly in the mind 
 
 Store up the hopes sublime 
 W' hich then were born tor all mankind, 
 
 So bb ssed was the time ; 
 And underneath these hallowed eaves, 
 
 A Saviour will be born 
 In every heart that him receives 
 
 On his triumphal morn. 
 
 Rev. William Croswell.] 
 
 3* 
 
30 Fourth Sunday in Advent. 
 
 But patience ! there may come a time 
 When these dull ears shall scan aright 
 
 Strains, that outring Earth's drowsy chime, 
 As Heaven outshines the taper's light. 
 
 These eyes, that dazzled now and weak 
 At glancing motes in sunshine wink, 
 
 Shall see the King's* full glory hreak, 
 Nor from the blissful vision shrink: 
 
 In fearless love and hope uncloy'd 
 For ever on that ocean bright 
 
 Empower'd to gaze; and undestroy'd, 
 Deeper and deeper plunge in light. 
 
 Though scarcely now their laggard glance 
 Reach to an arrow's flight, that day 
 
 They shall behold, and not in trance, 
 The region " very far away." 
 
 If Memory sometimes at our spell 
 Refuse to speak, or speak amiss, 
 
 We shall not need her where we dwell 
 Ever in sight of all our bliss. 
 
 Meanwhile, if over sea or sky 
 
 Some tender lights unnotic'd fleet, 
 
 Or on lov'd features dawn and die, 
 Unread, to us, their lesson sweet; 
 
 Yet are there saddening sights around, 
 Which Heaven, in mercy, spares us too, 
 
 And we see far in holy ground, 
 If duly purg'd our mental view. 
 
 * Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty ; they shall behold the 
 land that, is very far off. Isaiah xxxiii. 17. 
 
Fourth Sunday in Advent. 31 
 
 The distant landscape draws not nigh 
 
 For all our gazing; but the soul, 
 That upward looks, may still descry 
 
 Nearer, each day, the brightening goal. 
 
 And thou, too curious ear, that fain 
 
 Wouldst thread the maze of Harmony, 
 
 Content thee with one simple strain, 
 The lowlier, sure, the worthier thee; 
 
 Till thou art duly trained, and taught 
 
 The concord sweet of Love divine: 
 Then, with that inward Music fraught, 
 
 For ever rise, and sino;, and shine. 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. * 
 
 [DECEMBER 25.] 
 
 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly 
 host, praising God. St. Luke ii. 13. [Second Morning Lesson.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who hast given us thy only b gotten Son to take 
 our nature upon him, and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin ; 
 grant that we, being regenerate and made thy children by adoption 
 and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit, through the same 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and rcigneth with thee and the same 
 Spirit, ever one God, world without end.~ Amen] 
 
 WHAT sudden blaze of song 
 
 Spreads o'er th' expanse of Heav'n ? 
 In waves of light it thrills along, 
 Th' angelic signal given — 
 
 * [The name given to this festival in the Prayer Book, sufficiently 
 describes its objects,— "The nativity of our Lord, or the birth-day of 
 Christ, commonly called Christmas Day."] 
 
32 Christmas Bay. 
 
 " Glory to God !" from yonder central fire 
 Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry quire; 
 
 Like circles widening round 
 Upon a clear blue river, 
 Orb after orb, the wondrous sound 
 Is echoed on for ever: 
 " Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, 
 "And love towards men of love* — salvation and release." 
 
 Yet stay, before thou dare 
 To join that festal throng; 
 Listen and mark what gentle air 
 First stirr'd the tide of song; 
 'Tis not, " the Saviour born in David's home, 
 " To whom for power and health obedient worlds should 
 come:" — 
 
 'Tis not "the Christ the Lord:"— 
 With fix'd adoring look 
 The choir of Angels caught the word, 
 Nor yet their silence broke: 
 But when they heard the sign, where Christ should be, 
 In sudden light they shone and heavenly harmony. 
 
 Wrapp'd in his swaddling bands, 
 And in his manger laid, 
 The hope and glory of all lands 
 Is come to the world's aid: 
 No peaceful home upon his cradle smil'd, 
 Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal child. 
 
 But where thou dwellest, Lord, 
 No other thought should be, 
 
 * I have ventured to adopt the reading of the Vulgate, as being 
 generally known through Pergolesi's beautiful composition, "Gloria 
 iu excelsis Deo, et in terra pax homiiiibus bona: voluntatis." 
 
Christmas Day. 33 
 
 Once duly welcom'd and ador'd, 
 How should I part with Thee 1 ? 
 Bethlehem must lose Thee soon, but Thou wilt grace 
 The single heart to be thy sure abiding-place. 
 
 Thee, on the bosom laid 
 Of a pure virgin mind, 
 In quiet ever, and in shade, 
 
 Shepherd and sage may find; 
 They, who have bow'd untaught to Nature's sway, 
 And they, who follow Truth along her star-pav'd way. 
 
 The pastoral spirits first* 
 
 Approach Thee, Babe divine, 
 For they in lowly thoughts are nurs'd, 
 Meet for thy lowly shrine: - 
 Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost dwell, 
 Angels from Heaven will stoop to guide them to thy cell. 
 
 Still, as the day comes round 
 For Thee to be reveal'd, 
 By wakeful shepherds Thou art found, 
 Abiding in the field. 
 All through the wintry heaven and chill night air,| 
 In music and in light thou dawnest on their prayer. 
 
 * [A beautiful allusion to the incidents described in that sweet 
 pastoral hymn, 
 
 "While shepherds watched their flocks by night, 
 Ali seated on the ground," &.c. 
 There is much better poetry in the world than this: but it may be 
 well doubted whether there are two other lines that will thriil a* 
 many h< arts, or brighten as many eyes] 
 
 t [The determination of this holy festival to the day on which the 
 Christian world agrees to celebrate it, must be allowed to be an arbi- 
 trary decision. But its occurrence in the winter, certainly gives rise 
 to peculiar and delightful associations and usages. The poets have 
 not failed to improve Ibis circumstance. So in that glorious hymn of 
 Mihou, on tin; morning of Christ's nativity, — 
 " It was the winter wild, 
 While the heaven-bom child 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies, 
 
34 Christmas Day, 
 
 O faint not ye for fear — 
 
 What though your wandering- sheep, 
 Reckless of what they see and hear, 
 Lie lost in wilful sleep ] 
 High Heaven in mercy to your sad annoy 
 Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. 
 
 Think on th' eternal home, 
 The Saviour left for you; 
 Think on the Lord most holy, come 
 To dwell with hearts untrue: 
 So shall ye tread untir'd his pastoral ways, 
 And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. 
 
 Nature in awe to him 
 Has doffed her gaudy trim, 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize : 
 It was no season then for her 
 To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour." 
 The same circumstance is beautifully spiritualized in the following 
 lines on "Christmas Eve," — having reference to the becoming practice 
 of dressing the churches at that season with evergreens, " the fir tree, 
 and the pine, and the box tree together." The author of them has 
 more "unwritten poetry" in him than any man I know. 
 The thickly woven boughs they wreathe 
 
 Through every hallowed fane 
 A soft reviving odour breathe 
 
 Of summer's gentle reign ; 
 And rich the ray of mild grem light 
 
 Which, like an emerald's glow, 
 Comes struggling through the latticed height 
 Upon the crowds below. 
 
 O let the streams of solemn thought 
 
 Which in those temples rise 
 From deeper sources spring than aught 
 
 Dependent on the skies: 
 Then, though the summer's pride departs 
 
 And winter's withering chill 
 Rests on the cheerless woods, our hearts 
 
 .Shall be unchanging stiU. 
 
 Rev. William Croswell] 
 
35 
 
 ST. STEPHEN'S DAY.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 2Q.~] 
 
 He, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, 
 and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of 
 God. Acts vii. 55. [Scripture appointed as the Epistle for the Day \ 
 
 [Grant, O Lord, that in all our sufferings lure upon earth, for the 
 testimony of thy truth, we may steadfastly look up to heaven, and by 
 faith behold the glory that shall be revealed ; and being tilled with the 
 Holy Ghost, may learn to love and bless our persecutors, by the 
 example of thy first martvr Saint Stephen, who prayed for his mur- 
 derers to thee, O blessed Jesus, who standest at the right hand of God, 
 to succour all those who suffer for thee, our only Mediator and Advo- 
 cate. Amen.'] 
 
 AS rays around the source of light 
 Stream upward ere he glow in sight, 
 And watching by his future flight 
 
 Set the clear heavens on fire; 
 So on the King of Martyrs wait 
 Three chosen bands, in royal state, f 
 And all earth owns, of good and great, 
 
 Is gather'd in that choir. 
 
 * [" Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," was one of 
 the seven deacons first ordained, and had the distinguished honour of 
 being the first martyr to the Christian faith. He was stoned to death.] 
 
 t Wheatley on the Common Prayer, c v. sect. iv. 2. " As there are 
 three kinds of martyrdom, the first both in will and deed, which is the 
 highest; the second in will but not in deed; the third in deed but not 
 in will; so the Church commemorates these martyrs in the same order: 
 St. Stephen first, who suffered death both in will and deed; Si. John 
 the Evangelist next, who suffered martyrdom in will but not in deed; 
 the Holy Innocents last, who suffered in deed but not in will." 
 
36 St. Stephen's Day. 
 
 One presses on, and welcomes death: 
 One calmly yields his willing breath, 
 Nor slow, nor hurrying-, but in faith 
 
 Content to die or live : 
 And some, the darlings of their Lord, 
 Play smiling with the flame and sword, 
 And, ere they speak, to his sure word 
 
 Unconscious witness give. 
 
 Foremost and nearest to his throne, 
 By perfect robes of triumph known, 
 And likest him in look and tone, 
 
 The holy Stephen kneels, 
 With steadfast gaze, as when the sky 
 Flew open to his fainting eye, 
 Which, like a fading lamp, flash'd high, 
 
 Seeing what death conceals. 
 
 Well might you guess what vision bright 
 Was present to his raptur'd sight, 
 Even as reflected streams of light 
 
 Their solar source betray — 
 The glory which our God surrounds,* 
 The Son of Man, th' atoning wounds — 
 He sees them all; and earth's dull bounds 
 
 Are melting fast away. 
 
 He sees them all — no other view 
 Could stamp the Saviour's likeness true, 
 Or with his love so deep embrue 
 
 Man's sullen heart and gross — 
 " Jesu, do Thou my soul receive:f 
 " Jesu, do Thou my foes forgive:" 
 He who would learn that prayer, must live 
 
 Under the holy Cross. 
 
 * ["" But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked tip steadfastly to 
 heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right 
 hand of God."] 
 
 t ["And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord 
 
St. Stephen's Day. 37 
 
 He, though he seem on earth to move, 
 Must glide in air like gentle dove, 
 From yon unclouded depths above 
 
 Must draw his purer breath; 
 Till men behold his angel face* 
 All radiant with celestial grace,f 
 Martyr all o'er, and meet to trace 
 
 The lines of Jesus' death. 
 
 Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud 
 voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said 
 this he fell asleep."] 
 
 * And all that were in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw 
 his face as it had been the face of an angel. Acts vi. 15. 
 
 | [With awful dread his murderers shook 
 
 As, radiant and serene, 
 The lustre of his dying look 
 
 Was like an angel's seen ; 
 Or Moses' face of paly light, 
 
 When down the mount he trod, 
 All glowing from the glorious sight 
 
 And presence of his God. 
 
 To us, with all his constancy, 
 
 Be his rapt vision given, 
 To look above by faitn, and see 
 
 Revealments bright of heaven. 
 And power to speak our triumphs out 
 
 As our last hour draws near, 
 While neither clouds of fear nor doubt 
 
 Before our view appear. 
 
 Rev. William Croswell] 
 
38 
 
 ST. JOHN'S DAY * 
 
 [DECEMBER 27.] 
 
 Peter, seeing him, sailh to Jesus, Lord, and what shall this man do ? 
 Jesus saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that 
 to thee ? follow thou me. St. John xii. 21, 22. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Merciful Lord, we beseech thee to cast thy bright beams of light 
 upon thy Church, that it, being instructed by the doctrine of thy blessed 
 Apostle and Evangelist Saint John, may so walk in the light of thy 
 truth, that it may at length attain to everlasting life, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Jlmen] 
 
 " LORD, and what shall this man do ?" 
 Ask'st thou, Christian, for thy friend ] 
 
 If his love for Christ be true, 
 
 Christ hath told thee of his end: 
 
 This is he whom God approves, 
 
 This is he whom Jesus loves. 
 
 Ask not of him more than this, 
 
 Leave it in his Saviour's breast, 
 Whether, early call'd to bliss, 
 
 He in youth shall find his rest, 
 
 * [This is the festival of John, the Evangelist and Apostle, the son 
 of Zebedee, and brother of James the Greater. He was especially dis- 
 tinguished during the lifetime of Jesus, as "the beloved disciple." 
 Besides the gospel which bears his name, he wro'e three Epistles and 
 the Apocalypse. He lived to be nearly an hundred years old; and, 
 alone, of ail the Apostles, died a natural death. When he was too 
 infirm through age to make a longer discourse, his constant exhorta- 
 tion to the Christians at Ephesus, where he lived, was, " Little chil- 
 dren, love one another!"] 
 
St. John's Day. 39 
 
 Or armed in his station wait 
 Till his Lord be at the gate: 
 
 Whether in his lonely course 
 
 (Lonely, not forlorn) he stay, 
 Or with Love's supporting force 
 
 Cheat the toil and cheer the way: 
 Leave it all in His high hand, 
 Who doth hearts as streams command.* 
 
 Gales from heaven, if so He will, 
 
 Sweeter melodies can wake 
 On the lonely mountain rill 
 
 Than the meeting waters make. 
 Who hath the Father and the Son, 
 May be left, but not alone. 
 
 Sick or healthful, slave or free, 
 
 Wealthy, or despis'd and poor — 
 What is that to him or thee, 
 
 So his love to Christ endure? 
 When the shore is won at last, 
 Who will count the billows past! 
 
 Only, since our souls will shrink 
 
 At the touch of natural grief, 
 When our earthly lov'd ones sink, 
 
 Lend us, Lord, thy sure relief; 
 Patient hearts, their pain to see, 
 And thy grace, to follow Thee. 
 
 * The king's heart is in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water: 
 he turneth it whithersoever he will. Proverbs xxi. 1. 
 
40 
 
 THE HOLY INNOCENTS.* 
 
 [DECEMBER 28.] 
 
 These were redeemed from among men, being the first fruits unto 
 God and to the Lamb. Revelations xiv. 4. [Scripture appointed for the 
 Epistle.] 
 
 [O Almighty God, who out of the mouths of babes and sucklings 
 hast ordained strength, and madest infants to glorify thee by their 
 deaths: mortify and kill all vices in us, and so strengthen us by thy 
 grace, that, by the innocency of our lives and constancy of our faith 
 even unto death, we may glorify thy holy name, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 SAY, ye celestial guards, who wait 
 In Bethlehem, round the Saviour's palace gate, 
 
 Say, who are these on golden wings, 
 That hover o'er the new-born King of kings, 
 
 Their palms and garlands telling plain 
 That they are of the glorious martyr train, j" 
 
 * [The Church on this day commemorates the infants slain in Beth- 
 lehem, by the command of Herod, in the vain hope of destroying the 
 Lord's Anointed, — then, by the warning of an angel, safe in Egypt. 
 As a service commemorative of children, it is sometimes called " Chil- 
 dermas Day."] 
 
 f [Hail, infant sufferers! martyred flow'rets, hail ! 
 Cut off by ruthless knife, 
 Just at the gate of life, 
 Ye fell, as new-born roses fall when scattered by the gale. 
 Earliest of all were ye, that suffered for the word, 
 Sweet firstlings of that slaughtered flock, so precious to the Lord ; 
 And round his heavenly altar now, his high uplifted throne. 
 Ye guileless sport the crown and palm your martyrdom hath won. 
 
 Imitated from Prndentius.—G. W. D.] 
 
 
The Holy Innocents. 41 
 
 Next to yourselves ordain'd to praise 
 His name, and brighten as on Him they gaze ! 
 
 But where their spoils and trophies'? where 
 The glorious dint a martyr's shield should bear? 
 
 How chance no cheek among them wears 
 The deep-worn trace of penitential tears, 
 
 But all is bright and smiling love, 
 As if, fresh-borne from Eden's happy grove, 
 
 They had flown here, their King to see, 
 Nor ever had been heirs of dark mortality'? 
 
 Ask, and some angel will reply, 
 "These, like yourselves, were born to sin and die, 
 
 44 But ere the poison root was grown, 
 44 God set his seal, and mark'd them for his own. 
 
 " Baptiz'd in blood for Jesus' sake, 
 44 Now underneath the Cross their bed they make, 
 
 44 Not to be scar'd from that sure rest 
 44 By frighten'd mother's shriek, or warrior's waving 
 crest." 
 
 Mindful of these, the first-fruits sweet 
 Borne by the suffering Church, her Lord to greet; 
 
 Bless'd Jesus ever loved to trace 
 The " innocent brightness" of an infant's face. 
 
 He rais'd them in his holy arms, 
 He bless'd them from the world and all its harms: 
 
 Heirs though they were of sin and shame, 
 He bless'd them in his own and in his Father's name. 
 
 Then, as each fond unconscious child 
 On th' everlasting Parent sweetly smil'd, 
 
 (Like infants sporting on the shore, 
 That tremble not at Ocean's boundless roar), 
 
 Were they not present to thy thought, 
 All souls, that in their cradles thou hast bought? 
 
 4* 
 
42 The Holy Innocents. 
 
 But chiefly these, who died for Thee, 
 That thou might'st live, for them a sadder death to see. 
 
 And next to these, thy gracious word 
 Was, as a pledge of benediction, stor'd 
 
 For Christian mothers, while they moan 
 Their treasur'd hopes, just born, baptiz'd, and gone. 
 
 Oh joy for Rachel's broken heart! 
 She and her babes shall meet no more to part; 
 
 So dear to Christ her pious haste 
 
 for ever safe embrac'd. 
 
 She dares not grudge to leave them there, 
 Where to behold them was her heart's first prayer, 
 
 She dares not grieve — but she must weep, 
 As her pale placid martyr sinks to sleep, 
 
 Teaching so well and silently 
 How, at the shepherd's call, the lamb should die: 
 
 How happier far than life the end 
 Of souls that infant-like beneath their burthen bend. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS 
 
 THE SUN-DIAL OF AHAZ. 
 
 So the sun returned ten degrees, by which decrees it was jrone down. 
 Isaiah xxxviii 8. (Compare Josh. x. J3) [First Evening Lesson, 
 Church of England Prayer Book.'] 
 
 [Almighty God, who hast given us thy only begotten Son to take 
 our nature upon him, and as at this time to be born of a pure Virgin ; 
 grant that we, being regenerate and made thy children by adoption 
 and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit, through the same 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneih with thee and the 
 same Spirit, ever one God, world without end. rf?nen.] 
 
First Sunday after Christmas. 43 
 
 'TIS true, of old th' unchanging sun 
 His daily course refus'd to run; 
 
 The pale moon hurrying to the west 
 Paus'd at a mortal's call,* to aid 
 Th' avenging storm of war, that laid 
 Seven guilty realms at oncef on earth's defiled breast. 
 
 But can it be, one suppliant tear 
 Should stay the ever-moving sphere? 
 
 A sick man's lowly breathed sigh, 
 When from the world he turns a\vay,£ 
 And hides his weary eyes to pray, 
 Should change your mystic dance, ye wanderers of the 
 
 sky] 
 
 We too, Lord, would fain command, 
 As then, thy wonder-working hand, 
 
 And backward force the waves of Time, 
 That now so swift and silent bear 
 Our restless bark from year to year; 
 Help us to pause and mourn to Thee our tale of crime. 
 
 Bright hopes, that erst the bosom warm'd, 
 And vows, too pure to be perform'd, 
 
 And prayers blown wide by gales of care; — 
 These, and such faint half waking dreams, 
 Like stormy lights on mountain streams, 
 Wavering and broken all, athwart the conscience glare. 
 
 How shall we 'scape th' o'erwhelming Past? 
 Can spirits broken, joys o'ercast, 
 
 And eyes that never more may smile. — 
 
 * [Joshua.] 
 
 t [The Canaanitea, and the IJittilee, and the Hivites, and the Periz- 
 zites, and the Girsjashites, and the Amoritep, and the Jebusites.J 
 
 I And Hezfkiah turned his face towards the wall, and prayed unto 
 the Lord. Isaiah xxxviii. 2. 
 
44 First Sunday after Christmas. 
 
 Can these th' avenging bolt delay, 
 Or win us back one little day, 
 The bitterness of death to soften and beguile? 
 
 Father and Lover of our souls! 
 Though darkly round thine anger rolls, 
 
 Thy sunshine smiles beneath the gloom; 
 Thou seek'st to warn us, not confound, 
 Thy showers would pierce the harden'd ground, 
 And win it to give out its brightness and perfume. 
 
 Thou smil'st on us in wrath, and we, 
 Even in remorse, would smile on Thee; 
 
 The tears that bathe our offer'd hearts, 
 We would not have them stain'd and dim, 
 But dropp'd from wings of seraphim, 
 All glowing with the light accepted Love imparts. 
 
 Time's waters will not ebb nor stay, 
 Power cannot change them, but Love may; 
 
 What cannot be, Love counts it done. 
 Deep in the heart, her searching view 
 Can read where Faith is fix'd and true, 
 Through shades of setting life can see Heaven's work 
 begun. 
 
 O Thou, who keep'st the Key of Love, 
 Open thy fount, eternal Dove, 
 
 And overflow this heart of mine,* 
 Enlarging as it fills with Thee, 
 Till in one blaze of charity 
 Care and remorse are lost, like motes in light divine; 
 
 * [ send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most 
 
 excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues; 
 without which whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee." Collect 
 for Quinquagesima Sunday.] 
 
First Sunday after Christmas. 45 
 
 Till, as each moment wafts us higher, 
 By every gush of pure desire, 
 
 And high-breath'd hope of joys above, 
 By every sacred sigh we heave, 
 Whole years of folly we outlive, 
 In His unerring sight, who measures Life by Love. 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.* 
 
 JANUARY 
 
 1-] 
 
 In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made with- 
 out hands. Colossians ii. 11. [Second Evening Lesson.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who madest thy blessed Son to be circumcised, and 
 obedient to the law for man; grant us the true circumcision of the 
 Spirit, that, our hearts and all our members being mortified from all 
 worldly and carnal lusts, we may in all things obey thy blessed will, 
 through the same thy con Jesus Christ our Lord, rfmen.] 
 
 THE year begins with Thee, 
 And thou beginn'st with woe, 
 To let the world of sinners see 
 That blood for sin must flow. 
 
 Thine infant cries, O Lord, 
 Thy tears upon the breast, 
 Are not enough — the legal sword 
 Must do its stern behest. 
 
 * [Jesus€hrist. taking our nature upon him, and becoming obpdinnt 
 to the law for our sakes, waa circumcised on the eighth day, that he 
 might " fulfil all linhteousneps.' ] 
 
46 The Circumcision of Christ. 
 
 Like sacrificial wine 
 Poured on a victim's head 
 Are those few precious drops of thine, 
 Now first to offering led. 
 
 They are the pledge and seal 
 Of Christ's unswerving faith 
 iven to his Sire, our souls to heal, 
 Although it cost his death. 
 
 Gi 
 
 They to his Church of old, 
 To each true Jewish heart, 
 In Gospel graces manifold, 
 Communion blest impart. 
 
 Now of thy love we deem 
 As of an ocean vast, 
 Mounting in tides against the stream 
 Of ages gone and past. 
 
 Both theirs and ours Thou art, 
 As we and they are thine; 
 Kings, Prophets, Patriarchs — all have part 
 Along the sacred line. 
 
 By blood and water too* 
 God's mark is set on Thee, 
 That in Thee every faithful view 
 Both covenants might see. 
 
 O bond of union, dear 
 And strong as is Thy grace ! 
 Saints, parted by a thousand year, 
 May thus in heart embrace. 
 
 Is there a mourner true, 
 Who, fallen on faithless days, 
 
 * [Jesus was baptised as well as circumcised.] 
 
The Circumcision of Christ. 47 
 
 Sighs for the heart-consoling view 
 Of those Heaven deign'd to praise? 
 
 In spirit may'st thou meet 
 With faithful Abraham here, 
 "Whom soon in Eden thou shalt greet 
 A nursing Father dear. 
 
 Would'st thou a Poet be 1 
 And would thy dull heart fain 
 Borrow of Israel's minstrelsy 
 One high enraptur'd strain 1 ? 
 
 Come here thy soul to tune, 
 Here set thy feeble chant, 
 Here, if at all beneath the moon, 
 Is holy David's haunt. 
 
 Art thou a child of tears, 
 Cradled in care and wo ? 
 And seems it hard, thy vernal years 
 Few vernal joys can show 1 
 
 And fall the sounds of mirth 
 Sad on thy lonely heart, 
 From all the hopes and charms of earth 
 Untimely call'd to part] 
 
 Look here, and hold thy peace: 
 The Giver of all good 
 Even from the womb takes no release 
 From suffering, tears and blood. 
 
 If thou would'st reap in love, 
 First sow in holy fear: 
 So life a winter's morn may prove 
 To a bright endless year. 
 
48 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. 
 
 When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their 
 tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel 
 will not forsake them. Isaiah xli. 17. [First Morning Lesson.] 
 
 [Almighty God, who madest thy blessed Son to be circumcised, and 
 obedient to the law for man ; grant us the true circumcision of the 
 Spirit, that, our hearts and aii our members being mortified from all 
 worldly and carnal lusts, we may in all things obey thy blessed will, 
 through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 AND wilt Thou hear the fever' d heart 
 
 To Thee in silence cry? 
 And as th' inconstant wildfires dart 
 
 Out of the restless eye, 
 Wilt Thou forgive the wayward thought, 
 By kindly woes yet half untaught 
 A Saviour's right, so dearly bought, 
 
 That Hope should never die] 
 
 Thou wilt: for many a languid prayer 
 Has reach'd Thee from the wild, 
 
 Since the lorn mother, wandering there, 
 Cast down her fainting child;* 
 
 Then stole apart to weep and die, 
 
 Nor knew an angel form was nigh, 
 
 To show soft waters gushing by, 
 And dewy shadows mild. 
 
 * Hagar. See Gen. xxi. 15. 
 
Second Sunday after Christmas. 49 
 
 Thou wilt — for Thou art Israel's God, 
 
 And thine unwearied arm 
 Is ready yet with Moses' rod, 
 
 The hidden rill to charm 
 Out of the dry unfathom'd deep 
 Of sands, that lie in lifeless sleep, 
 Save when the scorching whirlwinds heap 
 
 Their waves in rude alarm. 
 
 These moments of wild wrath are thine — 
 
 Thine too the drearier hour 
 When o'er th' horizon's silent line 
 
 Fond hopeless fancies cower, 
 And on the traveller's listless way 
 Rises and sets th' unchanging day, 
 No cloud in heaven to slake its ray, 
 
 On earth no sheltering bower. 
 
 Thou wilt be there, and not forsake, 
 
 To turn the bitter pool 
 Into a bright and breezy lake, 
 
 The throbbing brow to cool: 
 Till left awhile with Thee alone 
 The wilful heart be fain to own 
 That He, by whom our bright hours shone, 
 
 Our darkness best may rule. 
 
 The scent of water far away* 
 Upon the breeze is flung: 
 
 * ["Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock 
 thereof die in the gound; yet through the scent of water it will bud, 
 and bring forth boughs like a plant." Job xiv. 8, 9. "The extraordi- 
 nary scent of the camel enables him to discover water at a great dis- 
 tance; and thus, in the wildest regions of the desert, the caravan is 
 often preserved from destruction by this instinct." — " Having wan- 
 dered about for a long time," says Burkhardt, speaking of a traveller 
 in search of water, " he alighted under the shade of a tree and tied 
 the camel to one of its branches; the beast, however, smelt ike water 
 (as the Arabs express it), and wearied as it was, broke its halter, and 
 5 
 
50 Second Sunday after Christmas. 
 
 The desert pelican to-day 
 
 Securely leaves her young, 
 
 Reproving thankless man, who fears 
 
 To journey on a few lone years, 
 
 Where on the sand thy step appears, 
 
 Thy crown in sight is hung. 
 
 Thou, who didst sit on Jacob's well 
 
 The weary hour of noon,* 
 The languid pulses Thou canst tell, 
 
 The nerveless spirit tune. 
 Thou from whose Cross in anguish burst 
 The cry that own'd thy dying thirst, f 
 To Thee we turn, our last and first, 
 Our Sun and soothing Moon. 
 
 From darkness, here, and dreariness 
 
 We ask not full repose, 
 Only be Thou at hand, to bless 
 
 Our trial hour of woes. 
 Is not the pilgrim's toil o'erpaid 
 By the clear rill and palmy shade! 
 And see we not, up Earth's dark glade, 
 
 The gate of Heaven unclose 1 ? 
 
 set off ga'Iopping furiously in the direction of trie spring, which, as it 
 afterwards appeared, was at half an hour's distance." Library of 
 Eiitertaining Knowledge, vol. i.J 
 
 * St. John iv. 6. 
 
 t St. John xix. 28. 
 
51 
 
 THE EPIPHANY.* 
 
 [JANUARY 6.] 
 
 And, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till 
 it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw 
 the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. St. Matt, ii 9, 10. 
 [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [O God, who by the leading of a star didst manifest thy only begot- 
 ten Son to the Gentiles; mercifully grant that we, who know thee 
 now by faith, may after this life have the fruition of thy glorious 
 Godhead, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 STAR of the East, how sweet art Thou, 
 
 Seen in Life's early morning sky, 
 Ere yet a cloud has dimm'd the brow, 
 
 While yet we gaze with childish eye; 
 
 When father, mother, nursing friend, 
 
 Most dearly lov'd, and loving best, 
 First bid us from their arms ascend, 
 
 Pointing to Thee in thy sure rest. 
 
 Too soon the glare of earthly day 
 
 Buries, to us, thy brightness keen, 
 And we are left to find our way 
 
 By faith and hope in Thee unseen. 
 
 * [The festival of the Epiphany, as its name imports, commemorates 
 the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, as represented by the wise 
 men, who in the eastern land in which they dwelt, having seen his 
 star, had come to worship him] 
 
52 The Epiphany* 
 
 What matter 1 ? if the waymarks sure 
 On every side are round us set, 
 
 Soon overleap'd, but not obscure? 
 'Tis ours to mark them or forget. 
 
 What matter 1 ? if in calm old age 
 Our childhood's star again arise, 
 
 Crowning our lonely pilgrimage 
 
 With all that cheers a wanderer's eyes? 
 
 Ne'er may we lose it from our sight 
 Till all our hopes and thoughts are led 
 
 To where it stays its lucid flight 
 Over oar Saviour's lowly bed. 
 
 There, swath'd in humblest poverty 
 On Chastity's meek lap enshrin'd, 
 
 With breathless Reverence waiting by, 
 When we our sovereign Master find, 
 
 Will not the long-forgotten glow 
 Of mingled joy and awe return, 
 
 When stars above or flowers below 
 First made our infant spirits burn? 
 
 Look on us, Lord, and take our parts 
 Even on thy throne of purity! 
 
 From these our proud yet grovelling hearts 
 Hide not thy mild forgiving eye. 
 
 Did not the Gentile Church find grace, 
 Our mother dear, this favour'd day 1 ? 
 
 With gold and myrrh she sought thy face,* 
 Nor didst Thou turn thy face away. 
 
 * [We come not with a costly store, 
 U Lord, like them of old, — 
 
 The masters of the starry lore, — 
 From Ophir's shore of gold ; 
 
The Epiphany. 53 
 
 She too,* in earlier purer days, 
 
 Had watch'd Thee gleaming faint and far — 
 But wandering in self-chosen ways 
 
 She lost Thee quite, thou lovely star. 
 
 Yet had her Father's finger turn'd 
 
 To Thee her first inquiring glance: 
 The deeper shame within her burn'd, 
 
 When waken'd from her wilful trance. 
 
 Behold, her wisest throng thy gate, 
 
 Their richest, sweetest, purest store, 
 (Yet own'd too worthless and too late) 
 
 They lavish on Thy cottage-floor. 
 
 They give their best — O tenfold shame 
 
 On us their fallen progeny, 
 Who sacrifice the blind and lamef — 
 
 Who will not wake^: or fast with Thee! 
 
 No weepings of the incense tree 
 
 Are with the gifts we bring, 
 No odorous myrrh of Araby 
 
 Blends with our offering. 
 
 But still our love would bring its best, 
 
 A spirit keenly tried 
 By fierce affliction's fiery test, 
 
 And seven times purified: 
 The fragrant graces of the mind, 
 
 The virtues that delight 
 To give their perfume out, will find 
 Acceptance in thy sight. 
 
 Rev. William Croswell.] 
 * The Patriarchal Church, 
 t Malachi i. 8. 
 
 X ["What, could ye not watch with me one hour?" St. Matthew 
 xx vi. 40. 
 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 They shall spring up as among the grass, as willows by the water- 
 courses. Isaiah xliv. 4. [First Morning Lesson.'] 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee mercifully to receive the prayers of thy 
 people who call upon thee ; and grant that they may both perceive and 
 know what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power 
 faithfully to fulfil the same, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 LESSONS sweet of spring returning,* 
 
 Welcome to the thoughtful heart! 
 May I call ye sense or learning, 
 
 Instinct pure, or heav'n-taught art] 
 Be your title what it may, 
 Sweet and lengthening April day, 
 While with you the soul is free, 
 Ransfing; wild o'er hill and lea. 
 
 * [" When we write of the dawn of the year, of the new races of 
 birds and of blossoms that are all around us springing into life, our 
 utmost eft'orts can give but one enjoyment to the reader. But he who 
 goes out to observe, has pleasure in every way that It can come, and 
 health along with it. The beauty of the flowers and their fragrance, 
 the elegant forms and varied tints of (he biids, their bustling activity 
 and sprightly conduct, and the music of their songs; the sportive 
 gambols of the young animals, and the tender solicitude that issh >wn 
 for thorn by the old, and all that is, and all that occurs in the earth, 
 the waters and th j air, is a constant creation, — a daily, nay, an hourly 
 springing up of new worlds : and he who lives one spring in the open 
 air, may watch the whole progress of a hundred generations. Nature 
 is then ' voice all over,' and whether she speaks to one of the senses, 
 or to them all, she always speaks instruction." 
 
 Mndie's British Naturalist.] 
 
First Sunday after Epiphany. 55 
 
 Soft as Memnon's harp at morning-, 
 
 To the inward ear devout, 
 Touch'd by light, with heavenly warning 
 
 Your transporting chords ring out. 
 Every leaf in every nook, 
 Every wave in every brook, 
 Chanting with a solemn voice, 
 Minds us of our better choice. 
 
 Needs no show of mountain hoary, 
 
 Winding shore or deepening glen, 
 "Where the landscape in its glory 
 
 Teaches truth to wandering men: 
 Give true hearts but earth and sky. 
 And some flowers to bloom and die, — * 
 Homely scenes and simple views 
 Lowly thoughts may best infuse. 
 
 See the soft green willow springing 
 
 Where the waters gently pass, 
 Every way her free arms flinging 
 
 O'er the moss and reedy grass. 
 Long ere winter blasts are fled, 
 See her tipp'd with vernal red, 
 And her kindly flower display'd 
 Ere her leaf can cast a shade. 
 
 * ["Come quietly away with me. and we will walk up and down 
 the narrow path, by th^ sweet briar hedge; and we w ill listen to the 
 low song of the blackbird, and the fresh air will cool i ur aching brows, 
 and we shall find comfort. To thpse things, fresh air. and the bird's 
 sons, and the fragrance of the lowly flowers. God has given a blessing; 
 like sleep, they are his medicine-. — ' balm of sweet minds V We will 
 walk to and fro under the shade of these elms, and we will be calm ; 
 bitter r collections shall be made sweet by the thought of his mercies; 
 and in the midst of the sorrows we have in our hearts, his comforts 
 shall refresh our souls; and our minds shall be stored with many 
 thoughts, sweet, like the perfume of these flowers." 
 
 Scenes in our Parish.] 
 
56 First Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 Though the rudest hand assail her, 
 
 Patiently she droops awhile, 
 But when showers and breezes hail her, 
 
 Wears again her willing smile. 
 Thus I learn Contentment's power 
 From the slighted willow bower, 
 Ready to give thanks and live 
 On the least that Heaven may give. 
 
 If, the quiet brooklet leaving, 
 
 Up the stony vale I wind, 
 Haply half in fancy grieving 
 
 For the shades I leave behind, 
 By the dusty wayside drear, 
 Nightingales with joyous cheer 
 Sing, my sadness to reprove, 
 Gladlier than in cultur'd grove. 
 
 Where the thickest boughs are twining 
 Of the greenest darkest tree, 
 
 There they plunge, the light declining — 
 All may hear, but none may see. 
 
 Fearless of the passing hoof, 
 
 Hardly will they fleet aloof; 
 
 So they live in modest ways, 
 
 Trust entire, and ceaseless praise. 
 
57 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE SECRET OF PERPETUAL YOUTH. 
 
 Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, and when 
 men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept 
 the good wine until now. St. John ii. 10. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who dost govern all things in heaven 
 and earth; mercifully hear the supplications of thy people, and grant 
 us thy peace all the days of our life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Jimcn.~\ 
 
 THE heart of childhood is all mirth: 
 
 We frolic to and fro 
 As free and blithe, as if on earth 
 
 Were no such thing as wo. 
 
 But if indeed with reckless faith 
 
 We trust the flattering- voice. 
 Which whispers, "Take thy fill ere death; 
 
 " Indulge thee and rejoice — " 
 
 Too surely, every setting day, 
 
 Some lost delight we mourn, 
 The flowers all die along our way, 
 
 Till we, too, die forlorn. 
 
 Such is the world's gay garish feast, 
 
 In her first charming bowl 
 Infusing all that fires the breast, 
 
 And cheats th' unstable soul. 
 
58 Second Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 And still, as loud the revel swells, 
 The fever'd pulse beats higher, 
 
 Till the sear'd taste from foulest wells 
 Is fain to slake its fire. 
 
 Unlike the feast of heavenly love 
 
 Spread at the Saviour's word 
 For souls that hear his call, and prove 
 
 Meet for his bridal board. 
 
 Why should we fear, youth's draught of joy, 
 
 If pure, would sparkle less? 
 Why should the cup the sooner cloy, 
 
 Wliich God hath deign'd to bless? 
 
 For, is it Hope, that thrills so keen 
 
 Along each bounding vein, 
 Still whispering glorious things unseen? — 
 
 Faith makes the vision plain. 
 
 The world would kill her soon: but Faith 
 Her daring dreams will cherish, 
 
 Speeding her gaze o'er time and death 
 To realms where nought can perish. 
 
 Or is it Love, the dear delight 
 
 Of hearts that know no guile, 
 That all around see all things bright 
 
 With their own magic smile? 
 
 The silent joy, that sinks so deep, 
 
 Of confidence and rest, 
 Lull'd in a Father's arms to sleep, 
 
 Clasp'd to a Mother's breast? 
 
 Who, but a Christian, through all life 
 
 That blessing may prolong? 
 Who, through the world's sad day of strife, 
 
 Still chant his morning song? 
 
Second Sunday after Epiphany. 59 
 
 Fathers may hate us or forsake, 
 
 God's foundlings then are we: 
 Mother on child no pity take,* 
 
 But we shall still have Thee. 
 
 We may look home, and seek in vain 
 
 A fond fraternal heart, 
 But Christ hath given his promise plain 
 
 To do a brother's part. 
 
 Nor shall dull age, as worldlings say, 
 
 The heavenward flame annoy: 
 The Saviour cannot pass away, 
 
 And with him lives our joy. 
 
 Ever the richest, tenderest glow 
 
 Sets round th' autumnal sun — 
 But there sight fails: no heart may know 
 
 The bliss when life is done. 
 
 Such is thy banquet, dearest Lord; 
 
 O give us grace, to cast 
 Our lot with thine, to trust thy word, 
 
 And keep our best till last. 
 
 *• Can a woman forget her suckling child, that she should not have 
 compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I 
 not forget thee. Isaiah xlix. 15. 
 
60 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE GOOD CENTURION. 
 
 When Jesus heard it, he marvelled, and said to them that followed, 
 Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no not in 
 Israel. St. Matthew viii. 10. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, mercifully look upon our infirmities, 
 and in all our dangers and necessities stretch forth thy right hand to 
 help and defend us, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 I MARK'D a rainbow in the north, 
 What time the wild autumnal sun 
 From his dark veil at noon look'd forth, 
 
 As glorying in his course half done, 
 Flinging soft radiance far and wide 
 Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side. 
 
 It was a gleam to Memory dear, 
 
 And as I walk and muse apart, 
 When all seems faithless round and drear, 
 
 I would revive it in my heart, 
 And watch how light can find its way 
 To regions farthest from the fount of day. 
 
 Light flashes in the gloomiest sky 
 
 And Music in the dullest plain, 
 For there the lark is soaring high 
 
 Over her flat and leafless reign, 
 And chanting in so blithe a tone, 
 It shames the weary heart to feel itself alone. 
 
Third Sunday after Epiphany. 61 
 
 Brighter than rainbow in the north, 
 
 More cheery than the matin lark, 
 Is the soft gleam of Christian worth, 
 
 Which on some holy house we mark, 
 Dear to the pastor's aching heart 
 To think, where'er he looks, such gleam may have a part; 
 
 May dwell, unseen by all but Heaven, 
 
 Like diamond blazing in the mine; 
 For ever, where such grace is given, 
 
 It fears in open day to shine.* 
 Lest the deep stain it owns within 
 Break out, and Faith be sham'd by the believer's sin. 
 
 In silence and afar they wait, 
 
 To find a prayer their Lord may hear: 
 
 Voice of the poor and desolate, 
 You best may bring it to his ear. 
 
 Your greatful intercessions rise 
 With more than royal pomp, and pierce the skies. 
 
 Happy the soul, whose precious cause 
 You in the sovereign Presence plead — 
 
 "This is the lover of thy laws,f 
 
 "The friend of thine in fear and need" — 
 
 For to the poor thy mercy lends 
 That solemn style, " thy nation and thy friends." 
 
 * Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof. 
 
 " From the first time that the impressions of religion settled deeply 
 in his mind, he used great caution to conceal it; not only in obedience 
 to the rule given by our Saviour, of fasting, praying, and giving alms 
 in secret, but from a particular distrust he had of himself; for lie said 
 he was 'afraid he should at some time or other do some enormous 
 thing, which if he were looked on as a very religious man, mignt cast 
 a reproach on the profession of it, and give great advantages To impi- 
 ous men to blaspheme the name of God." BurneVs Life of Hale, in 
 Wordsworth's Eccl. Biog. vi. 73. 
 
 | He loveth our nation. 
 
62 Third Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 He too is blest, whose outward eye 
 
 The graceful lines of art may trace, 
 While his free spirit, soaring high, 
 
 Discerns the glorious from the base; 
 Till out of dust his magic raise* 
 A home for prayer and love, and full harmonious praise, 
 
 Where far away and high above, 
 
 In maze on maze the tranced sight 
 Strays, mindful of that heavenly love 
 
 Which knows no end in depth or height, 
 While the strong breath of Music seems 
 To waft us ever on, soaring in blissful dreams. \ 
 
 What though in poor and humble guise 
 Thou here didst sojourn, cottage-born'? 
 
 Yet from thy glory in the skies 
 
 Our earthly gold Thou dost not scorn. 
 
 For Love delights to bring her best. 
 And where Love is, that offering evermore is blest. 
 
 Love on the Saviour's dying head 
 
 Her spikenard drops unblam'd may pour, 
 
 May mount his Cross, and wrap him, dead, 
 In spices from the golden shore; % 
 
 Risen, may embalm his sacred name 
 With all a Painter's art, and all a Minstrel's flame. 
 
 Worthless and lost our offerings seem, 
 
 Drops in the ocean of his praise; 
 But Mercy with her genial beam 
 
 Is ripening them to pearly blaze, 
 To sparkle in His crown above, 
 Who welcomes here a child's as there an angel's love. 
 
 * He hath built us a synagogue. 
 
 t [In this and the former stanza allusion is made to William of 
 Wykeham, and Winchester cathedral. The Gothic architecture and 
 cathedral music are beautifull> hinted at. J 
 
 X St. John xii. 7, xix. 30. 
 
63 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE WORLD IS FOR EXCITEMENT, THE GOSPEL FOR 
 SOOTHIXG. 
 
 When thev saw him, they besought him to depart out of their coast3. 
 St. Matthew viii. 34. [Gospel for the Day.]* 
 
 [O God, who knowest us to be set in the midst of so many and great 
 dangers, that by reason of the frailty of our nature we cannot always 
 stand upright; grant to us such strength and protection, as may support 
 us in all dangers, and carry us through all temptations, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 THEY know th' Almighty's power, 
 Who, waken'd by the rushing midnight shower, 
 
 Watch for the fitful breeze 
 To howl and chafe amid the bending trees, 
 
 Watch for the still white gleam 
 To bathe the landscape in a fiery stream, 
 Touching the tremulous eye with sense of light 
 Too rapid and too pure for all but angel sight. 
 
 They know th' Almighty's love, 
 Who, when the whirlwinds rock the topmost grove, 
 
 Stand in the shade, and hear 
 The tumult with a deep exulting fear, 
 
 How in their fiercest sway, 
 C.urb'd by some power unseen, they die away, 
 Like a bold steed that owns his rider's arm, 
 Proud to be check'd and sooth'd by that o'er-mastering 
 charm. 
 
64 Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 But there are storms within 
 That heave the struggling heart with wilder din, 
 
 And there are power and love 
 The maniac's rushing frenzy to reprove, 
 
 And when he takes his seat, 
 Cloth'd and in calmness, at his Saviour's feet,* 
 Is not the power as strange, the love as blest, 
 As when He said, Be still, and ocean sank to rest % 
 
 Woe to the wayward heart, 
 That gladlier turns to eye the shuddering start 
 
 Of Passion in her might, 
 Than marks the silent growth of grace and light; 
 
 Pleas'd in the cheerless tomb 
 To linger, while the morning rays illume 
 Green lake, and cedar tuft, and spicy glade, 
 Shaking their dewy tresses now the storm is laid. 
 
 The storm is laid — and now 
 In his meek power He climbs the mountain's brow, 
 
 Who bade the waves go sleep, 
 And lash'd the vex'd fiends to their yawning deep. 
 
 How on a rock they stand, 
 Who watch his eye, and hold his guiding hand 1 ? 
 Not half so fix'd, amid her vassal hills, 
 Rises the holy pile that Kedron's valley fills. 
 
 And wilt thou seek again 
 Thy howling waste, thy charnel-house and chain, 
 
 And with the demons be, 
 Rather than clasp thine own Deliverer's knee % 
 
 Sure 'tis no heav'n-bred awe 
 That bids thee from his healing touch withdraw, 
 The world and He are struggling in thine heart, 
 And in thy reckless mood thou bidd'st thy Lord depart. 
 
 * Ft Mark v. 15, iv. 39. 
 
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. 65 
 
 He, merciful and mild, 
 As erst, beholding, loves his wayward child; 
 
 When souls of highest birth 
 Waste their impassion'd might on dreams of earth, 
 
 He opens Nature's book, 
 And on his glorious Gospel bids them look, 
 Till by such chords, as rule the choirs above, 
 Their lawless cries are turn'd to hymns of perfect love. 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 CURE SIN, AND YOU CURE SORROW. 
 
 Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save, neither 
 his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: hut your iniquities have separated 
 between you and your God. Isaiah lix. 1, 2. [First Morning Lesson 
 for the Day, Church of England Service.] 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee to keep thy Church and Household con- 
 tinually in thy true religion, that they who do lean only upon the hope 
 of thy heavenly grace, may evermore be defended by thy mighty power, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 " AWAKE, arm divine ! awake, 
 
 " Eye of the only Wise ! 
 " Now for thy glory's sake, 
 " Saviour and God, arise; 
 " And may thine ear, that sealed seems, 
 "In pity mark our mournful themes !" 
 
 Thus in her lonely hour 
 
 Thy Church is fain to cry, 
 As if thy love and power 
 
 Were vanished from her sky; 
 Yet God is there, and at his side 
 He triumphs, who for sinners died. 
 6* 
 
66 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 Ah ! 'tis the world enthrals 
 
 The heaven-betrothed breast; 
 The traitor sense recalls 
 The soaring soul from rest. 
 That bitter sigh was all for earth, 
 For glories gone, and vanish'd mirth. 
 
 Age would to youth return, 
 
 Farther from heaven would be, 
 To feel the wild fire burn, 
 On idolizing knee 
 Again to fall, and rob thy shrine 
 Of hearts, the right of love divine. 
 
 Lord of this erring flock ! 
 
 Thou whose soft showers distil 
 On ocean waste or rock, 
 Free as on Hermon hill — 
 Do Thou our craven spirits cheer, 
 And shame away the selfish tear. 
 
 'Twas silent all and dead* 
 
 Beside the barren sea, 
 Where Philip's steps were led, 
 Led by a voice from thee — 
 He rose and went, nor ask'd Thee why, 
 Nor stayed to heave one faithless sigh; 
 
 Upon his lonely way 
 
 The high-born traveller came, 
 Reading a mournful lay 
 
 Of " One who bore our shame, f 
 " Silent himself, his name untold, 
 "And yet his glories were of old." 
 
 * See Acts viii. 26 — 40. [" Arise and 2:0 toward the south, unto the 
 way that goeth down from Jerusalem unto Gaza, which is desert." A 
 fine specimen of Keble's intimate acquaintance with the Scriptures, 
 in their most minute details.] 
 
 t Isaiah liii. 6—8. 
 
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. 67 
 
 To muse what Heaven might mean 
 
 His wondering 1 brow he rais'd, 
 And met an eye serene 
 
 That on him watchful gaz'd. 
 No Hermit e'er so welcome cross'd 
 A child's lone path, in woodland lost. 
 
 Now wonder turns to love; 
 
 The scrolls of sacred lore 
 No darksome mazes prove; 
 The desert tires no more: 
 They bathe where holy waters flow,* 
 Then on their way rejoicing go.f 
 
 They part to meet in heaven; 
 But of the joy they share, 
 Absolving and forgiven, 
 
 The sweet remembrance bear. 
 Yes — mark him well, ye cold and proud, 
 Bewilder'd in a heartless crowd, 
 
 Starting and turning pale 
 
 At Rumour's angry din — 
 No storm can now assail 
 The charm he wears within; 
 Rejoicing still, and doing good, 
 And with the thought of God imbu'd. 
 
 No glare of high estate, 
 
 No gloom of woe or want, 
 The radiance can abate 
 
 Where Heaven delights to haunt; 
 Sin only hides the genial ray, 
 And, round the Cross, makes night of day. 
 
 ?P 
 
 See, here is water; what doth hinder me to be baptized 1"'J 
 And he went on his way rejoicing."] 
 
63 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, 
 
 Then weep it from thy heart; 
 So may'st thou duty learn 
 The intercessor's part: 
 
 Thy prayers and tears may earn 
 For fallen souls some healing breath, 
 Ere they have died th' Apostate's death. 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 THE BENEFITS OF UNCERTAINTY. 
 
 Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear 
 what we shall be : but we know, that, when He shall appear, we shall 
 be like Him, for we shall see Him as he is. 1 St. John iii. 2. [Epistle 
 for the Day.) 
 
 [O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that he might destroy 
 the works of the devil, and make us the sons of God and heirs of 
 eternal life ; grant us, we beseech thee, that having this hope, we may 
 purify ourselves, even as he is pure, that when he shall appear again 
 with power and great glory, we may be made like unto him in his 
 eternal and glorious kingdom ; where, with thee, O Father, and thee, 
 O Holy Ghost, he liveth and reigneth, ever one God, world without 
 end. Amen.'] 
 
 THERE are, who darkling and alone, 
 Would wish the weary night were gone, 
 Though dawning morn should only show 
 The secret of their unknown woe; 
 Who pray for sharpest throbs of pain 
 To ease them of doubt's galling chain: 
 " Only disperse the cloud," they cry, 
 " And if our fate be death, give light and let us die."* 
 
 * 'Ev £e <paet ko\ Ihiyaov. The prayer of Aj.ix— "Light though I 
 perish." Homer. 
 
Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. 69 
 
 Unwise I deem them, Lord, unmeet 
 To profit by thy chastenings sweet; 
 For thou would'st have us linger still 
 Upon the verge of good or ill, 
 That on thy guiding hand unseen 
 Our undivided hearts may lean, 
 And this our frail and foundering bark 
 Glide in the narrow wake of thy beloved ark. 
 
 'Tis so in war — the champion true 
 Loves victory more, when dim in view 
 He sees her glories gild afar 
 The dusky edge of stubborn war, 
 Than if th' untrodden bloodless field 
 The harvest of her laurels yield; 
 Let not my bark in calm abide, 
 But win her fearless way against the chafing tide. 
 
 'Tis so in love — the faithful heart 
 From her dim vision would not part, 
 When first to her fond gaze is given 
 That purest spot in Fancy's heaven, 
 For all the gorgeous sky beside, 
 Though pledg'd her own and sure t' abide: 
 Dearer than every past noon-day 
 That twilight gleam to her, though faint and far away.* 
 
 So have I seen some tender flower 
 Priz'd above all the vernal bower, 
 Shelter'd beneath the coolest shade, 
 Ernbosom'd in the greenest glade, 
 So frail a gem, it scarce may bear 
 The playful touch of evening air; 
 When hardier grown, we love it less,f 
 And trust it from our sight, not needing our caress. 
 
 * [Heu, quanto minus tui meminisse quam reliquis versari. Shcn- 
 stone's Fpitaph on Miss Dolman.] 
 t [" The bird that we nurse is the bird that we love."] 
 
70 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 And wherefore is the sweet spring tide 
 Worth all the changeful year beside 1 
 The last-born babe, why lies its part 
 Deep in the mother's inmost heart? 
 But that the Lord and source of love 
 Would have his weakest ever prove 
 Our tenderest care — and most of all 
 Our frail immortal souls, His work and Satan's thrall. 
 
 So be it, Lord; I know it best, 
 Though not as yet this wayward breast 
 Beat quite in answer thy voice, 
 Yet surely I have made my choice; 
 I know not yet the promis'd bliss, 
 Know not if I shall win or miss; 
 So doubting, rather let me die, 
 Than close with aught beside, to last eternally. 
 
 What is the Heaven we idly dream ] 
 The self-deceiver's dreary theme, 
 A cloudless sun that softly shines, 
 Bright maidens and unfailing vines, 
 The warrior's pride, the hunter's mirth, 
 Poor fragments all of this low earth: 
 Such as in sleep would hardly soothe 
 A soul that once had tasted of immortal Truth. 
 
 What is the Heaven our God bestows 1 
 No prophet yet, no Angel knows; 
 Was never yet created eye 
 Could see across Eternity; 
 Not seraph's wing for ever soaring 
 Can pass the flight of souls adoring, 
 That nearer still and nearer grow 
 To th' unapproached Lord, once made for them so low. 
 
 Unseen, unfelt their earthly growth, 
 And self-accus'd of sin and sloth 
 
Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. 71 
 
 They live and die: their names decay, 
 Their fragrance passes quite away; 
 Like violets in the freezing- blast 
 No vernal steam around they cast, — 
 But they shall flourish from the tomb, 
 The breath of God shall wake them into od'rous bloom. 
 
 Then on th' incarnate Saviour's breast, 
 The fount of sweetness, they shall rest, 
 Their spirits every hour imbu'd 
 More deeply with his precious blood. 
 But peace — still voice and closed eye 
 Suit best with hearts beyond the sky, 
 Hearts training in their low abode, 
 Daily to lose themselves in hope to find their God. 
 
 SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY.* 
 
 The invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly 
 seen, being understood by the things which are made. Romans i. 20. 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee favourably to hear the prayers of thy 
 people, that we, who are justly punished for our offences, may be mer- 
 cifully delivered by thy goodness, for the glory of thy name, through 
 Jesus Christ our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the 
 Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.'] 
 
 THERE is a book, who runs may read, 
 
 Which heavenly truth imparts, 
 And all the lore its scholars need, 
 
 Pure eyes and Christian hearts. 
 
 * The three Sundays next preceding Lent are called, respectively, 
 Septuagesima, Sexagesima and Quinquagesima Sundays, because nearly 
 seventy, sixty, and fifty days before Easter. The services appointed for 
 them are designed as a preparation for the due observance of the Len- 
 ten fast] 
 
72 Septuagesima Sunday. 
 
 The works of God above, below, 
 
 Within us and around, 
 Are pages in that book, to show 
 
 How God himself is found. 
 
 The glorious sky embracing all 
 
 Is like the Maker's love, 
 Wherewith encompass'd, great and small 
 
 In peace and order move. 
 
 The Moon above, the Church below, 
 
 A wondrous race they run, 
 But all their radiance, all their glow, 
 
 Each borrows of its Sun. 
 
 The Saviour lends the light and heat 
 
 That crowns his holy hill; . 
 The saints, like stars, around his seat, 
 
 Perform their courses still.* 
 
 The saints above are stars in Heaven — 
 What are the saints on earth 1 
 
 Like trees they stand whom God has given,f 
 Our Eden's happy birth. 
 
 Faith is their fix'd unswerving root. 
 
 Hope their unfading flower, 
 Fair deeds of charity their fruit, 
 
 The glory of their bower. 
 
 The dew of Heaven is like thy grace,:}: 
 
 It steals in silence down; 
 But where it lights, the favour'd place 
 
 By richest fruits is known. 
 
 * Daniel xii. 3. t Isaiah Ix. 21. J Psalm lxviii. 9. 
 
Septuagesima Sunday. 73 
 
 One Name above all glorious names 
 
 With its ten thousand tongues 
 The everlasting sea proclaims, 
 
 Echoing angelic songs. 
 
 The raging Fire,* the roaring Wind, 
 
 Thy boundless power display: 
 But in the gentler breeze we find 
 
 Thy Spirit's viewless way.f 
 
 Two worlds are ours: 'tis only Sin 
 
 Forbids us to descry 
 The mystic heaven and earth within, 
 
 Plain as the sea and sky. 
 
 Thou, who hast given me eyes to see 
 
 And love this sight so fair 
 Give me a heart to find out Thee, 
 
 And read Thee every where. 
 
 SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 So he drove out the man, and placed at the east of the garden of 
 Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to 
 keep the way of the tree of life. Oen. iii. '24. Compare Ch. vi. [First 
 Lessons in the Morning and Evening Service of the Church of England.'] 
 
 [O Lord God, who seest that we put not our trust in any thing that 
 we do ; mercifully grant that by thy power we may be defended against 
 all adversity, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 FOE of mankind ! too bold thy race: 
 Thou runn'st at such a reckless pace, 
 
 * Hebrews xii. 29. | St. John iii. 8. 
 
 7 
 
74 Sexagesima Sunday. 
 
 Thine own dire work thou surely wilt confound: 
 
 'Twas but one little drop of sin 
 
 We saw this morning enter in, 
 And lo ! at eventide the world is drown'd.* 
 
 See here the fruit of wandering eyes, 
 
 Of worldly longings to be wise, 
 Of Passion dwelling on forbidden sweets: 
 
 Ye lawless glances, freely rove; 
 
 Ruin below and wrath above 
 Are all that now the wildering fancy meets. 
 
 Lord, when in some deep garden glade, 
 
 Of Thee and of myself afraid, 
 From thoughts like these among the bowers I hide, 
 
 Nearest and loudest then of all 
 
 I seem to hear the Judge's call: — 
 " Where art thou, fallen man ? eome forth, and be thou 
 tried." 
 
 Trembling before Thee as I stand, 
 
 Where'er I gaze on either hand 
 The sentence is gone forth, the ground is curs'd: 
 
 Yet mingled with the penal shower 
 
 Some drops of balm in every bower 
 Steal down like April dews, that softest fall and first. 
 
 If filial and maternal lovef 
 
 Memorial of our guilt must prove, 
 If sinful babes in sorrow must be born, 
 
 Yet, to assuage her sharpest throes, 
 
 The faithful mother surely knows, 
 This was the way Thou cam'st to save the world forWn.t 
 
 * [In the order of lessons for Se\ai sima '-' i ' 
 England, that from the Old Testament for the morning ruuleo Ihe fall, 
 and that for the evening, the flood.] 
 
 t In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children. 
 
 | [Notwithstanding she shall be saved in child bearing. 1 Tim. ii. 15.] 
 
Sexagesima Sunday. 75 
 
 If blessed wedlock may not bless* 
 
 Without some tinge of bitterness 
 To dash her cup of joy, since Eden lost; 
 
 Chaining to earth with strong desire 
 
 Hearts that would highest else aspire, 
 And o'er the tenderer sex usurping ever most: 
 
 Yet by the light of Christian lore 
 
 'Tis blind Idolatry no more, 
 But a sweet help and pattern of true love, 
 
 Showing how best the soul may cling 
 
 To her immortal Spouse and King, 
 How He should rule, and she with full desire approve. 
 
 If niggard Earth her treasures hide,f 
 
 To all but labouring hands denied, 
 Lavish of thorns and worthless weeds alone, 
 
 The doom is half in mercy given 
 
 To train us in our way to Heaven, 
 And show our lagging souls how glory must be won. 
 
 If on the sinner's outward framed 
 
 God hath impress'd his mark of blame 
 And even our bodies shrink at touch of light, 
 
 Yet mercy hath not left us bare: 
 
 The very weeds we daily wear§ 
 Are to Faith's eye a pledge of God's forgiving might. 
 
 And oh ! if yet one arrow more,j| 
 
 The sharpest of th' Almighty's store, 
 Tremble upon the string — a sinner's death — 
 
 Art Thou not by to soothe and save, 
 
 To lay us gently in the grave, 
 To close the weary eye and hush the parting breath"? 
 
 * Thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee. 
 
 t Cursed is the ground for thy sake. 
 
 X I was afraid because I was naked. 
 
 § The Lord God made coats of skins, and he clothed them. 
 
 || Thou shalt surely die. 
 
76 Sexagesima Sunday. 
 
 Therefore in sight of man bereft 
 The happy garden still was left, 
 
 The fiery sword that guarded, show'd it too, 
 Turning all ways, the world to teach, 
 That though as yet beyond our reach, 
 
 Still in its place the tree of life and glory grew. 
 
 QUINQU AGESIM A SUNDAY. 
 
 T do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a cove- 
 nant between me and the earth. Gen. ix. 13. [First Morning Lesson, 
 for the Day, Church, of England] 
 
 [O Lord, who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are 
 nothing worth; send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that 
 most excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all vir- 
 tues, without which, whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee : 
 grant this for thine only Son, Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.] 
 
 SWEET Dove! the softest, steadiest plume 
 
 In all the sunbright sky, 
 Brightening in ever-changeful bloom 
 
 As breezes change on high; 
 
 Sweet Leaf! the pledge of peace and mirth, 
 
 " Long sought, and lately won," 
 Bless'd increase of reviving Earth, 
 
 When first it felt the Sun; 
 
 Sweet Rainbow ! pride of summer days, 
 
 High set at Heaven's command, 
 Though into drear and dusky haze 
 
 Thou melt on either hand; — 
 
 Dear tokens of a pardoning God, 
 We hail ye, one and all, 
 
Quinquagesima Sunday. 77 
 
 As when our fathers walk'd abroad,* 
 
 Freed from their twelvemonths' thrall. 
 
 How joyful from th' imprisoning ark 
 
 On the green earth they spring ! 
 Not blither, after showers, the Lark 
 
 Mounts up with glistening wing. 
 
 So home-bound sailors spring to shore, 
 
 Two oceans safely past; 
 So happy souls, w T hen life is o'er, 
 
 Plunge in th' empyreal vast. 
 
 What wins their first and fondest gaze 
 
 In all the blissful field, 
 And keeps it through a thousand days 1 
 
 Love face to face reveal'd: 
 
 Love imag'd in that cordial look 
 
 Our Lord in Eden bends 
 On souls that sin and earth forsook 
 
 In time to die His friends. 
 
 And what most welcome and serene 
 
 Dawns on the Patriarch's eye, 
 In all th' emerging hills so green 
 
 In all the brightening sky 1 
 
 What but the gentle rainbow's gleam, 
 Soothing the wearied sight 
 
 * [" When o'er the green undeluged earth, 
 
 Heaven's covenant thou didst shine. 
 How came the world's grey fathers forth, 
 
 To watch thy sacred sign. 
 
 " And when its yellow lustre smil'd 
 
 O'er mountains yet untrod, 
 Each mother held aloft her child, 
 
 To bless the bow of God." 
 
 Campbell.] 
 
 7* 
 
78 Quinquagesima Sunday. 
 
 That cannot bear the solar beam, 
 With soft undazzling light 1 ? 
 
 Lord, if our fathers turn'd to thee 
 
 With such adoring gaze, 
 Wondering frail man thy light should see 
 
 Without thy scorching blaze; 
 
 Where is our love, and where our hearts, 
 
 We who have seen thy Son, 
 Have tried thy Spirit's winning arts— 
 
 And yet we are not won! 
 
 The Son of God in radiance beam'd 
 
 Too bright for us to scan, 
 But we may face the rays that stream'd 
 
 From the mild Son of Man. 
 
 There, parted into rainbow hues, 
 
 In sweet harmonious strife, 
 We see celestial love diffuse 
 
 Its light o'er Jesus' life. 
 
 God, by His bow, vouchsafes to write 
 
 This truth in Heaven above; 
 As every lovely hue is Light, 
 
 So every grace is Love.* 
 
 * [The lines below are not unworthy to be set in Keble's coronet. 
 
 DE PROFUNDIS. 
 " There may be a cloud without a rainbow, but there cannot be 
 rainbow without a cloud." 
 
 My soul were dark 
 But for the golden light and rainbow hue 
 That, sweeping Heaven with their triumphal arc, 
 Break on the view. 
 
 Enough to feel 
 That God indeed is good! enough to know 
 Without the gloomy clouds he could reveal 
 
 No beauteous bow. ^ 
 
 Rev. William Croswell.j 
 
79 
 
 ASH- WEDNESDAY.* 
 
 When thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that thou 
 appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret. 
 St. Matthew vi. 17. [Gospel for the Day] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God. who hntest nothing that thnu hast 
 made, and dost forgive the sins of all those who are penitent; create 
 and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting 
 our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of thee, the 
 God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 " YES — deep within and deeper yet 
 
 "The rankling shaft of conscience hide, 
 " Quick let the swelling eye forget 
 
 "The tears that in the heart abide. 
 " Calm be the voice, the aspect bold, 
 
 "No shuddering pass o'er lip or brow, 
 "For why should Innocence be told 
 
 " The pangs that guilty spirits bow? 
 
 " The loving eye that watches thine 
 
 " Close as the air that wraps thee round — 
 
80 Ash- Wednesday. 
 
 44 Why in thy sorrow should it pine, 
 
 44 Since never of thy sin it found 1 ? 
 44 And wherefore should the heathen see* 
 
 44 What chains of darkness thee enslave, 
 44 And mocking; say, Lo, this is he 
 
 44 W T ho own'd a God that could not save?" 
 
 Thus oft the mourner's wayward heart 
 Tempts him to hide his grief and die, 
 
 Too feeble for confession's smart, 
 Too proud to bear a pitying eye; 
 
 How sweet, in that dark hour, to fall 
 On bosoms waiting to receive 
 
 Our sighs, and gently whisper all! 
 
 They love us — will not God forgive! 
 
 Else let us keep our fast within, 
 
 Till Heaven and we are quite alone, 
 Then let the grief, the shame, the sin, 
 
 Before the mercy-seat be thrown. 
 Between the porch and altar weep, 
 
 Unworthy of the holiest place, 
 Yet hoping near the shrine to keep 
 
 One lowly cell in sight of grace. 
 
 Nor fear lest sympathy should fail- 
 Hast thou not seen, in night-hours drear, 
 
 When racking thoughts the heart assail, 
 The glimmering stars by turns appear, 
 
 And from th' eternal home above 
 With silent news of mercy steal] 
 
 So Angels pause on tasks of love, 
 
 To look where sorrowing sinners kneel. 
 
 Or, if no Angel pass that way, 
 He who in secret sees, perchance 
 
 * Wherefore should they say among the people, Where is their God ? 
 Joel ii. 17. 
 
Ash- Wednesday. 81 
 
 May bid his own heart-warming ray 
 
 Toward thee stream with kindlier glance, 
 
 As when upon His drooping head 
 
 His Father's light was pour'd from Heaven, 
 
 What time, unshelter'd and unfed,* 
 Far in the wild His steps were driven. 
 
 High thoughts were with Him in that hour, 
 
 Untold, unspeakable on earth — 
 And who can stay the soaring power 
 
 Of spirits wean'd from worldly mirth, 
 While far beyond the sound of praise 
 
 With upward eye they float serene, 
 And learn to bear their Saviour's blaze 
 
 When Judgment shall undraw the screen! 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT 
 
 THE CITY OF REFUGE. 
 
 Haste thee, escape thither, for I cannot do any thin? till thou he 
 come thither: therefore the name of the city was called Zoar. Genesis 
 x\x. 22. [First Morning Lesson for the Day, Church of England.] 
 
 [O Lord, who for our sake didst fast forty days and forty nights, give 
 us grace to use such abstinence, that our flesh being subdued to the 
 Spirit, we may ever obey thy godly motions in righteousness and true 
 holiness, to thy honour and glory, who livest and reignest with the 
 Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Jimen.] 
 
 "ANGEL of wrath! why linger in mid air, 
 
 " While the devoted city's cry 
 " Louder and louder swells'? and canst thou spare, 
 
 "Thy full-charg'd vial standing by?" 
 
 * St. Matt iv. 1. 
 
82 First Sunday in Lent* 
 
 Thus, with stern voice, unsparing- Justice pleads: 
 
 He hears her not — with soften'd gaze 
 His eye is following- where sweet Mercy leads, 
 And till she give the sign, his fury stays. 
 
 Guided by her, along the mountain road, 
 Far through the twilight of the morn, 
 
 With hurrying footsteps from th' accurs'd abode 
 He sees the holy household borne: 
 
 Angels, or more, on either hand are nigh,* 
 To speed them o'er the tempting plain, 
 
 Lingering in heart, and with frail sidelong eye 
 
 Seeking how near they may unharm'd remain. 
 
 "Ah wherefore gleam those upland slopes so fair? 
 
 "And why, through every woodland arch, 
 "Swells yon bright vale, as Eden rich and rare, 
 
 " Where Jordan winds his stately march; 
 "If all must be forsaken, ruin'd all, 
 
 "If God have planted but to burn 1 ? — 
 " Surely not yet th' avenging shower will fall, 
 "Though to my home for one last look I turn." 
 
 Thus while they waver, surely long ago 
 
 They had provoked the withering blast, 
 
 But that the merciful Avengers know 
 
 Their frailty well, and hold them fast. 
 
 " Haste, for thy life escape, nor look behind" — 
 Ever in thrilling sounds like these 
 
 They check the wandering eye, severely kind, 
 
 Nor let the sinner lose his soul at ease. 
 
 And when, o'erwearied with the steep ascent, 
 We for a nearer refuge crave, 
 
 * [The family of Lot, led out of Sodom. The expression, " angels, 
 or more'' 1 (angels, or greater than the}',) has reference, probably, to the 
 "angel of the covenant," spoken of in the Old Testament, and gene- 
 rally understood as a manifestation of the Son of God. J 
 
First Sunday in Lent. 83 
 
 One little spot of ground in mercy lent, 
 
 One hour of home before the grave, 
 Oft in his pity o'er his children weak, 
 
 His hand withdraws the penal fire, 
 And where we fondly cling, forbears to wreak 
 Full vengeance, till our hearts are wean'd entire. 
 
 Thus, by the merits of one righteous man, 
 
 The Church, our Zoar, shall abide, 
 Till she abuse, so sore, her lengthen'd span, 
 
 Even Mercy's self her face must hide. 
 Then, onward yet a step, thou hard-won soul; 
 
 Though in the Church thou know thy place, 
 The mountain farther lies — there seek thy goal, 
 There breathe at large, o'erpast thy dangerous race. 
 
 Sweet is the smile of home, the mutual look 
 
 When hearts are of each other sure; 
 Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, 
 
 The haunt of all affections pure; 
 Yet in the world even these abide, and we 
 
 Above the world our calling boast: 
 Once gain the mountain top, and thou art free: 
 Till then, who rest, presume; who turn to look, are lost.* 
 
 * [Escape for thy life : look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all 
 
 the plain : escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed But 
 
 his wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt. 
 Genesis six. 17. 26] 
 
84 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT 
 
 And when Esau Iieard the words of his father, he cried with a great 
 and exceeding bitter cry, and said unto his father, Bless me, even me 
 also, O my father. Oen. xxvii. 34. (Compare Hebreios xii. 17. He 
 found no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully with 
 tears).* [First Morning Lesson for the Day, Church of England.'} 
 
 ("Almighty God, who seest that we have no power of ourselves to 
 help ourselves ; keep us both outwardly in our bodies, and inwardly in 
 our souls; that we may be defended from all adversities which may 
 happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and 
 hurt the soul, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 "AND is there in God's world so drear a place 
 " Where the loud bitter cry is rais'd in vain? 
 
 " Where tears of penance come too late for grace, 
 "As on th' uprooted flower the genial rain!" 
 
 'Tis even so: the sovereign Lord of souls 
 Stores in the dungeon of his boundless realm 
 
 Each bolt, that o'er the sinner vainly rolls, 
 With gather'd wrath the reprobate to whelm. 
 
 * The author earnestly hopes that nothing in these stanzas will be 
 understood to express any opinion as to ihe general efficacy of what is 
 called " a death-bed repentance." Such questions are best left in the 
 merciful obscurity with which Scripture has enveloped them. Esau's 
 probation, as far as his birthright was concerned, was quite over when 
 he uttered the cry in the text. His despondency therefore is not 
 parallel to any thing on this side the grave. 
 
Second Sunday in Lent. 85 
 
 Will the storm hear the sailor's piteous cry,* 
 Taught to mistrust, too late, the tempting wave, 
 
 When all around he sees but sea and sky, 
 A God in anger, a self-chosen gravel 
 
 Or will the thorns, that strew intemprance' bed,f 
 Turn with a wish to down? will late remorse 
 
 Recall the shaft the murderer's hand has sped, 
 Or from the guiltless bosom turn its course! 
 
 Then may th' unbodied soul in safety fleet 
 
 Through the dark curtains of the world above, 
 
 Fresh from the stain of crime; nor fear to meet 
 The God, whom here she would not learn to love: 
 
 Then is there hope for such as die unblest, 
 
 That angel wings may waft them to the shore, 
 
 Nor need th' unread} 7 virgin strike her breast, 
 
 Nor wait desponding round the bridegroom's door. 
 
 But where is then the stay of contrite hearts? 
 
 Of old they lean'd on thy eternal word, 
 But with the sinner's fear their hope departs, 
 
 Fast link'd as thy great Name to Thee, O Lord: 
 
 That Name, by which thy faithful oath is past, 
 That we should endless be, for joy or woe: — 
 
 And if the treasures of thy wrath could waste, 
 Thy lovers must their promis'd Heaven forego. 
 
 But ask of elder days, earth's vernal hour, 
 When in familiar talk God's voice was heard, 
 
 * Compare Bishop Butler's Analogy, p. 34—64, ed. 1736. 
 
 t [" Consider, then, people ruin their fortunes by extravagance; they 
 bring diseases upon themselves by excess; they incur the penalties of 
 civil laws: will sorrow for these follies past, and behaving well for the 
 future, alone and of itself, prevent the natural consequences of them ?" 
 Butler's Analogy, part ii. c. v. sec. 4] 
 8 
 
86 Second Sunday in Lent, 
 
 When at the Patriarch's call the fiery shower 
 Propitious o'er the turf-built shrine appear'd. 
 
 Watch by our father Isaac's pastoral door — 
 The birthright sold, the blessing lost and won, 
 
 Tell, Heaven has wrath that can relent no more, 
 The Grave, dark deeds that cannot be undone. 
 
 W T e barter life for pottage; sell true bliss, 
 For wealth or power, for pleasure or renown; 
 
 Thus, Esau-like, our Father's blessing miss, 
 Then wash with fruitless tears our faded crown. 
 
 Our faded crown, despis'd and flung aside, 
 Shall on some brother's brow immortal bloom, 
 
 No partial hand the blessing may misguide; 
 
 No flattering fancy change our Monarch's doom: 
 
 His righteous doom, that meek true-hearted Love 
 The everlasting birthright should receive, 
 
 The softest dews drop on her from above,* 
 
 The richest green her mountain garland weave; 
 
 Her brethren, mightiest, wisest, eldest born, 
 Bow to her sway, and move at her behest: 
 
 Isaac's fond blessing may not fall on scorn, 
 
 Nor Balaam's curse on Love, which God hath blest. 
 
 * Genesis xxvii. 27, 18. 
 
 
87 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 THE SPOILS OF SATAX. 
 
 When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in 
 peace. But when a stronger than he shall come upon him. and over- 
 come him, he taketh from him all his armour wherein he trusted, and 
 divideth his spoil. St. Luke xi. 21, 22. [Gospel for the Day ] 
 
 [We beseech thee, Almighty God, look upon the hearty desires of 
 thy humble servants, and stretch forth the rijrlit hand of ihy Majesty, 
 to be our defence against all our enemies, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. Ameiu] 
 
 SEE Lucifer like lightning fall 
 
 Dash'd from his throne of pride; 
 While, answering Thy victorious call, 
 The Saints his spoils divide, 
 This world of thine, by him usurp'd too long, 
 Now opening all her stores to heal thy servants' wrong. 
 
 So when the first-born of thy foes 
 
 Dead in the darkness lay, 
 When thy redeem'd at midnight rose 
 And cast their bonds away, 
 The orphan'd realm threw wide her gates, and told 
 Into freed Israel's lap her jewels and her gold. 
 
 And when their wondrous march was o'er, 
 
 And they had won their homes, 
 Where Abraham fed his flock of yore, 
 
 Among their fathers' tombs; — 
 
88 Third Sunday in Lent. 
 
 A land that drinks the rain of heaven at will, 
 Whose waters kiss the feet of many a vine-clad hill; — 
 
 Oft as they watch'd, at thoughtful eve, 
 
 A gale from bowers of balm 
 Sweep o'er the billowy corn, and heave 
 The tresses of the palm, 
 Just as the lingering Sun had touch'd with gold, 
 Far o'er the cedar shade, some tower of giants old; 
 
 It was a fearful joy, I ween, 
 
 To trace the Heathen's toil, 
 The limpid wells, the orchards green 
 Left ready for the spoil, 
 The household stores untouch'd, the roses bright 
 Wreath'd o'er the cottage walls in garlands of delight.* 
 
 And now another Canaan yields 
 To thine all-conquering ark; — 
 Fly from the " old poetic" fields,f 
 Ye Paynim shadows dark! 
 Immortal Greece, dear land of glorious lays, 
 Lo! here the "unknown God" of thy unconscious praise!:}: 
 
 The olive wreath, the ivred wand, 
 "The sword in myrtles drest,"§ 
 
 * [A most lovely picture of the natural and domestic beauties of the 
 land upon which, as on Eden before, sin had brought down the curse. 
 It is here most skilfully introduced to heighten the contrast.] 
 
 f Where each old poetic mountain 
 Inspiration breathed around. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 \ [As I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with 
 this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD Acts xvii. 23.] 
 § The famous Athenian drinking song, by Callistratus: — 
 I'll wreathe my sword with myrtle as the brave Harmodius did, 
 And as Aristogeiton his avenging weapon hid. 
 When they slew the haughty tyrant, and regained our liberty. 
 And breaking down oppression, made the men of Athens free 
 
 G. W. D.] 
 
 
Third Sunday in Lent. 90 
 
 Each legend of the shadowy strand 
 Now wakes a vision blest 
 As little children lisp, and tell of Heaven. 
 So thoughts beyond their thought to those high Bards 
 were given. 
 
 And these are ours; Thy partial grace 
 
 The tempting- treasure lends: 
 These relics of a guilty race 
 Are forfeit to thy friends: 
 What seem'd an idol hymn, now breathes of Thee, 
 Tun'd by Faith's ear to some celestial melody. 
 
 There's not a strain to Memory dear* 
 
 Nor flower in classic grove, 
 There's not a sweet note warbled here, 
 But minds us of thy Love. 
 O Lord, our Lord, and spoiler of our foes, 
 There is no light but thine: with Thee all beauty glows. 
 
 * See Burns's Works, i. 293, Pr. Currie's edition. 
 
 [There's not a bonnie flower that springs 
 
 Bf f .untain. sbaw or gi 
 There's not a bonnie bird that ;: gB 
 
 But minds me o" mv Jean " 
 
90 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 THE ROSE BUD. 
 
 Joseph made haste, for his bowels did yearn upon his brother; and 
 he sought where to weep; and he entered into his chamber, and wept 
 there. Oen. xliii. 30. [First Lesson, Morning Service, Church of Eng- 
 land.] 
 
 There stood no man with them, while Joseph made himself known 
 unto his brethren. Oen. xlv. 1. [First Lesson, Evening Service, Church 
 of England.] 
 
 [Grant, we beseech thee. Almighty God, that we, who for our evil 
 deeds do worthily deserve to be punished, by the comfort of thy grace 
 may mercifully be relieved, through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus 
 Christ. Amen.'] 
 
 WHEN Nature tries her finest touch, 
 
 Weaving her vernal wreath, 
 Mark ye, how close she veils her round, 
 Not to be trac'd by sight or sound, 
 
 Nor soil'd by ruder breath! 
 
 Who ever saw the earliest rose 
 
 First open her sweet breast? 
 Or, when the summer sun goes down, 
 The first soft star in evening's crown 
 
 Light up her gleaming crest? 
 
 Fondly we seek the dawning bloom 
 On features wan and fair, — 
 
 
Fourth Sunday in Lent. 91 
 
 The gazing eye no change can trace, 
 But look away a little space, 
 
 Then turn, and, lo! 'tis there. 
 
 But there's a sweeter flower than e'er 
 
 Blush'd on the rosy spray — ■ 
 A brighter star, a richer bloom 
 Than e'er did western heaven illume 
 
 At close of summer day. 
 
 'Tis Love, the last best gift of Heaven; 
 
 Love gentle, holy, pure: 
 But, tenderer than a dove's soft eye, 
 The searching sun, the open sky 
 
 She never could endure. 
 
 Even human Love will shrink from sight 
 
 Here in the coarse rude earth: 
 How then should rash intruding glance 
 Break in upon her sacred trance 
 
 Who boasts a heavenly birth 1 ? 
 
 So still and secret is her growth, 
 
 Ever the truest heart, 
 Where deepest strikes her kindly root 
 For hope or joy, for flower or fruit, 
 
 Least knows its happy part. 
 
 God only, and good angels, look 
 
 Behind the blissful screen — 
 As when, triumphant o'er his woes, 
 The Son of God by moonlight rose,* 
 
 By all but Heaven unseen: 
 
 * [It was at the time of the Taschal full moon that the Saviour rose 
 from the dead.] 
 
92 Fourth Sunday in Lent. 
 
 As when the holy Maid beheld 
 
 Her risen Son and Lord: 
 Thought has not colours half so fair 
 That she to paint that hour may dare, 
 
 In silence best ador'd. 
 
 The gracious Dove, that brought from Heaven 
 
 The earnest of our bliss, 
 Of many a chosen witness telling, 
 On many a happy vision dwelling, 
 
 Sings not a note of this. 
 
 So, truest image of the Christ, 
 
 Old Israel's long-lost son, 
 What time, with sweet forgiving cheer, 
 He call'd his conscious brethren near, 
 
 Would weep with them alone.* 
 
 He could not trust his melting soul 
 
 But in his Maker's sight — 
 Then why should gentle hearts and true 
 Bare to the rude world's withering view 
 
 Their treasure of delight! 
 
 No— let the dainty rose awhile 
 
 Her bashful fragrance hide — 
 Rend not her silken veil too soon, 
 But leave her, in her own soft noon, 
 
 To flourish and abide. 
 
 * [Genesis xlv. I. Then Joseph could not refrain himself before all 
 them that stood by him, and he cried, Cause every man to go out from 
 me: and there stood no man with him, while Joseph made himself 
 known unto his brethren.] 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why 
 the bush is not burned. Exodus iii.3. [First Lesson, Morning Service, 
 Church of England.] 
 
 [We beseech thee. Almighty God, mercifully to look upon thy peo- 
 ple; that by thy great goodness they may be governed and preserved 
 evermore, both in body and soul, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 j^men.] 
 
 TFT historic Muse, from age to age, 
 Thro' many a waste heart-sickening- page 
 
 Hath trac'd the works of Man: 
 But a celestial call to-day- 
 Stays her, like Moses, on her way, 
 
 The works of God to scan. 
 
 Far seen across the sandy wild, 
 Where, like a solitary child, 
 
 He thoughtless roam'd and free, 
 One towering thorn* was wrapt in flame — 
 Bright without blaze it went and came: 
 
 Who would not turn and see"? 
 
 Along the mountain ledges green 
 The scatter'd sheep at will may glean 
 
 * "Seneh:" said to be a sort of Acacia. 
 
94 Fifth Sunday in Lent. 
 
 The Desert's spicy stores: 
 The while, with undivided heart, 
 The shepherd talks with God apart, 
 
 And, as he talks, adores. 
 
 Ye too, who tend Christ's wildering flock, 
 Well may ye gather round the rock 
 
 That once was Sion's hill: 
 To watch the fire upon the mount 
 Still blazing, like the solar fount, 
 
 Yet unconsuming still. 
 
 Caught from that blaze by wrath divine, 
 Lost°branches of the once-lov'd vine, 
 
 Now wither'd, spent, and sere, 
 See Israel's sons, like glowing brands, 
 Tost wildly o'er a thousand lands 
 
 For twice a thousand year. 
 
 God will not quench nor slay them quite, 
 But lifts them like a beacon light 
 
 Th' apostate Church to scare: 
 Or like pale ghosts that darkling roam, 
 Hovering around their ancient home, 
 
 But find no refuge there. 
 
 Ye blessed Angels! if of you 
 There be, who love the ways to view 
 
 Of Kings and Kingdoms here; 
 (And sure, 'tis worth an Angel's gaze, 
 To see, throughout that dreary maze, 
 
 God teaching love and fear:) 
 
 O say, in all the bleak expanse, 
 Is there a spot to win your glance, 
 So bright, so dark as this 1 ? 
 
Fifth Sunday in Lent. 95 
 
 A hopeless faith, a homeless race,* 
 Yet seeking the most holy place, 
 And owning the true bliss! 
 
 Salted with fire they seemf to show 
 How spirits lost in endless woe 
 
 May undecaying live. 
 Oh sickening thought! yet hold it fast 
 Long as this glittering world shall last, 
 
 Or sin at heart survive. 
 
 And hark! amid the flashing fire, 
 Mingling with tones of fear and ire, 
 
 Soft Mercy's undersong — - 
 "Pis Abraham's God who speaks so loud, 
 His people's cries have pierc'd the cloud, 
 
 He sees, He sees their wrong;£ 
 
 He is come down to break their chain; 
 Though never more on Sion's fane 
 
 His visible ensign wave; 
 'Tis Sion, wheresoe'er they dwell, 
 Who, with His own true Israel, 
 
 Shall own Him strong to save. 
 
 He shall redeem them one by one, 
 Where'er the world-encircling sun 
 
 Shall see them meekly kneel: 
 All that he asks on Israel's part, 
 Is only, that the captive heart 
 
 Its woe and burthen feel. 
 
 * [The Jews, alluded to in these lines, "a nation scattered and 
 peeled," without a home in the whole world, of which, as the peculiar 
 people of God, they were once the favoured heirs. Without a temple, 
 without a sacrifice, without a priest, — how fearfully and wonderfully 
 do they fulfil the old prophetic record ! How literally is His blood upon 
 them, and upon their children !] 
 
 t e*t. Mark, ix. 49. 
 
 \ Exod iii. 7,8. 
 
96 Fifth Sunday in Lent. 
 
 Gentiles! with fix'd yet awful eye 
 Turn ye this page of mystery, 
 
 Nor slight the warning sound: 
 " Put off thy shoes from off thy feet — 
 "The place where man his God shall meet, 
 
 " Be sure, is holy ground." 
 
 PALM SUNDAY.* 
 
 THE CHILDREN IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 And he answered and said unto them, I tell you, that if these should 
 hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out. St. Luke, 
 xix. 40. 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love towards 
 mankind, hast sent thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ, to take upon 
 him our flesh, and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind 
 should follow the example of his great humility ; mercifully grant that 
 we may both follow the example of his patience, and also be made 
 partakers of his resurrection, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen.~\ 
 
 YE whose hearts are beating high 
 With the pulse of Poesy, 
 Heirs of more than royal race, 
 Fram'd by Heaven's peculiar grace, 
 God's own work to do on earth, 
 
 (If the word be not too bold) 
 Giving virtue a new birth, 
 
 And a life that ne'er grows old — 
 
 * [The Sunday next before Easter, so called in reference to the palm 
 branches thrown before our Saviour on his way to Jerusalem, five 
 days before his crucifixion.] 
 
Palm Sunday. 97 
 
 Sovereign masters of all hearts! 
 Know ye, who hath set your parts'? 
 He who gave yon breaih to sing, 
 By whose strength ye sweep the string, 
 He hath chosen you, to lead 
 
 His Hosannas here below; — 
 Mount, and claim your glorious meed; 
 
 Linger not with sin and woe. 
 
 But if ye should hold your peace, 
 Deem not that the song would cease — 
 Angels round His glory-throne, 
 Stars, his guiding hand that own, 
 Flowers, that grow beneath our feet, 
 
 Stones in earth's dark womb that rest, 
 High and low in choir shall meet, 
 
 Ere His Name shall be unblest. 
 
 Lord, by every minstrel tongue 
 Be thy praise so duly sung, 
 That thine angels' harps may ne'er 
 Fail to find fit echoing here: 
 We the while, of meaner birth, 
 
 Who in that divinest spell 
 Dare not hope to join on earth, 
 
 Give us grace to listen well. 
 
 But should thankless silence seal 
 Lips, that might half Heaven reveal, 
 Should bards in idol-hymns profane 
 The sacred soul-enthralling strain 
 (As in this bad world below 
 
 Noblest things find vilest using), 
 Then, thy power and mercy show, 
 
 In vile things noble breath infusing; 
 
 Then waken into sound divine 
 The very pavement of thy shrine, 
 9 
 
gg Palm Sunday. 
 
 Till we, like Heaven's star-sprinkled floor, 
 Faintly give back what we adore, 
 Childlike though the voices be, 
 
 And untunable the parts, 
 Thou wilt own the minstrelsy, 
 
 If it flow from childlike hearts. 
 
 MONDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 CHRIST WAITING FOR THE CROSS. 
 appointed for the Epistle in the Service for the Day ] 
 
 "FATHER to me Thou art and Mother dear, 
 
 "And Brother too, kind husband of my heart *— 
 
 So speaks Andromache in boding fear, 
 Ere from her last embrace her hero part: 
 
 So evermore, by Faith's undying glow, 
 
 We own the Crucified in weal or woe. 
 
 Strange to our ears the church-bells of our home, 
 
 The fragrance of our old paternal fields 
 May be forgotten; and the time may come % 
 
 When the babe's kiss no sense of pleasure yields 
 Even to the doting mother: but thine own 
 Thou never canst forget, nor leave alone. 
 
 * TYet while my Hector still survives, I see 
 
 My father, mother, brethren all in thee 
 
 Alas' my parents, brothers, kindred a 
 
 n.re more will perish, if my Hector fall. . 
 
 Once more wui pe , Version vi. 544.j 
 
Monday before Easter. 99 
 
 There are who sigh that no fond heart is theirs, 
 None loves them best — O vain and selfish sigh! 
 
 Out of the bosom of His love He spares — 
 The Father spares the Son, for thee to die: 
 
 For thee He died — for thee He lives again: 
 
 O'er thee He watches in His boundless reign. 
 
 Thou art as much His care, as if beside 
 Nor man nor angel liv'd in heaven or earth: 
 
 Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide 
 To light up worlds, or wake an insect's mirth: 
 
 They shine and shine with unexhausted store; 
 
 Thou art thy Saviour's darling — seek no more. 
 
 On thee and thine, thy warfare and thine end, 
 
 Even in His hour of agony He thought, 
 When, ere the final pang His soul should rend, 
 
 The ransom'd spirits one by one were brought 
 To his mind's eye — two silent nights and days* 
 In calmness for His far-seen hour He stays. 
 
 Ye vaulted cells where martyr'd seers of old 
 
 Far in the rocky walls of Sion sleep, 
 Green terraces and arched fountains cold, 
 
 Where lies the cypress shade so still and deep, 
 Dear sacred haunts of glory and of woe, 
 Help us, one hour, to trace His musings high and low: 
 
 One heart-ennobling hour! It may not be 
 
 Th' unearthly thoughts have pass'd from earth away, 
 And fast as evening sunbeams from the sea 
 
 Thy footsteps all in Sion's deep decay 
 
 * In Passion week, from Tuesday evening to Thursday evening: 
 during which time Scripture seems to he nearly silent concerning nur 
 Saviour's proceedings. 
 
Monday before Easter. 
 
 Were blotted from the holy ground: yet dear 
 
 Is every stone of hers; for Thou wast surely here.* 
 
 There is a spot within this sacred dale 
 
 That felt Thee kneeling — touch'd thy prostrate brow: 
 One angel knows it. O might prayer avail 
 
 To win that knowledge! sure each holy vow 
 Less quickly from th' unstable soul would fade, 
 OfFer'd where Christ in agony was laid. 
 
 Might tear of ours once mingle with the blood 
 That from His aching brow by moonlight fell, 
 
 Over the mournful joy our thoughts would brood, 
 Till they had fram'd within a guardian spell 
 
 To chase repining fancies, as they rise, 
 
 Like birds of evil wing, to mar our sacrifice. 
 
 So dreams the heart self-flattering, fondly dreams; — 
 Else wherefore, when the^bitter_waves.o'erflow, 
 
 Miss- we- .the- light, Gethsemane, that streams 
 From thy dear name, where in His page of woe 
 
 It shines, a pale kind star in winter's sky 1 ? 
 
 Who vainly reads it there, in vain had seen Him die. 
 
 * ['Tis sweet to Him who treasures lovo divine, 
 The coasts with zeal of palmer old to trace. 
 
 Hills, vales and streams of holy Palestine, 
 And mark in every ancient hallowed place 
 
 What rays of glory wont of old to shine, 
 
 What acts of wonder, and what words of grace : 
 
 How here the mourner heard glad news of rest, 
 
 Here the deaf ear the Saviour's presence blest, 
 The sightless eye beheld, the speechless tongue confest. 
 
 And sweet to them whose boundedlot at home 
 Constrains their 'steps in quietude to stray, 
 
 Yea, sweet it is to them, afar to roam 
 
 In thought, companions of the palmer's way, 
 
 And to the mother land of Christendom, 
 The debt of more than patriot fondness pay, — 
 
 If Judah's palmy hills their sojourn be, 
 
 Or Jordan's flood, or lone Tiberias' sea. 
 Or thy once glorious towns, thrice favoured Galilee ? 
 
 Bishop JUant, Gospel Miracles, p. 120.] 
 
101 
 TUESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 CHRIST REFUSING THE WINE AND MYRRH. 
 
 They gave-him to drink wine mingled with myrrh: but he received 
 it not. St. jMark xv. ;S3^. .[Gospel - fo'r the'Day.] 
 
 "FILL high the bowl, and spice it well, and pour 
 "The dews oblivious: for the Cross is sharp, 
 
 "The Cross is sharp, and He 
 
 "Is tenderer than a lamb. 
 
 " He wept by Lazarus' grave — how will He bear 
 " This bed of anguish] and His pale weak form 
 
 " Is worn with many a watch 
 
 " Of sorrow and unrest. 
 
 "His sweat last night was as great drops -of blood, 
 "And the sad burthen press'd him so to earth, 
 
 " The very torturers paus'd 
 
 " To help Him on His way. 
 
 " Fill high the bowl, benumb His aching sense 
 " With medicin'd sleep." — O awful in thy woe! 
 
 The parching thirst of death 
 
 Is on Thee, and tftou triest 
 
 The slumberous potion bland, and wilt not drink: 
 Not sullen, nor in scorn, like haughty man 
 
 With suicidal hand 
 
 Putting his solace by: 
 9* 
 
1 02 Tuesday before Easter. 
 
 But as at first thine all pervading look 
 Saw from thy Father's bosom to th' abyss, 
 
 Measuring in calm presage 
 
 The infinite descent; 
 
 So to the end, though now of mortal pangs 
 Made heir, and emptied of thy glory awhile, 
 
 With unaverted eye 
 
 Thou meetest all the storm. 
 
 Thou wilt feel all, that Thou may'st pity all;* 
 And rather wouldst Thou wrestle with strong pain, 
 
 Than overcloud thy soul, 
 
 So clear in agony, 
 
 Or lose one glimpse of Heaven before the time. 
 O most entire and perfect sacrifice, 
 
 Renew'd in every pulse 
 
 That on the tedious Cross 
 
 Told the long hours of death, as, one by one, 
 The life strings of that tender heart gave way; 
 
 Even sinners, taught by Thee, 
 
 Look Sorrow in the face, 
 
 And bid her freely welcome, unbeguil'd 
 By false kind solaces, and spells of earth: — 
 
 And yet not all unsooth'd; 
 
 For when was Joy so dear, 
 
 As the deep calm that breath'd, "Father, forgive," 
 Or, " Be with me in Paradise to-day 1 ?" 
 
 And, though the strife be sore, 
 
 Yet in His parting breath 
 
 * [" For in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able 
 to succour them also that are tempted." Hebrews ii. 18.] 
 
Tuesday before Easter, 103 
 
 Love masters agony; the soul that seem'd 
 Forsaken, feels her present God again, 
 
 And in her Father's arms 
 
 Contented dies away. 
 
 WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. 
 
 CHRIST IN THE GARDEN'. 
 
 Saying, Father, if tliou be willing, remove this cup from me : never- 
 theless, not my will, but thine be done. St. Luke xxii. 42. [Gospel for 
 the Day.] 
 
 LORD my God, do Thou thy holy will— 
 
 I will lie still — 
 
 1 will not stir, lest I forsake thine arm, 
 
 And break the charm, 
 Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, 
 In perfect rest. 
 
 Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile 
 
 With thy false smile: 
 I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways; 
 
 Be silent, Praise, 
 Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all 
 
 That hear thy call. 
 
 Come, Self-devotion, high and pure, 
 Thoughts that in thankfulness endure, 
 Though dearest hopes are faithless found, 
 And dearest hearts are bursting round. 
 Come, Resignation, spirit meek, 
 And let me kiss thy placid cheek, 
 
104 Wednesday before Easter. 
 
 And read in thy pale eye serene 
 Their blessing-, who by faith can wean 
 Their hearts from sense, and learn to love 
 God only, and the joys above. 
 
 They say, who know the life divine, 
 
 And upward gaze with eagle eyne, 
 
 That by each golden crown on high,* 
 
 Rich with celestial jewelry, 
 
 Which for our Lord's redeera'd is set, 
 
 There hangs a radiant coronet, 
 
 All gemm'd with pure and living light, 
 
 Too dazzling for a sinner's sight, 
 
 Prepar'd for virgin souls, and them 
 
 Who seek the martyr's diadem. 
 
 Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, 
 
 Must win their way through blood and fire. 
 
 The writhings of a wounded heart 
 
 Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. 
 
 Oft in Life's stillest shade reclining, 
 
 In Desolation unrepining, 
 
 Without a hope on earth to find 
 
 A mirror in an answering mind, 
 
 Meek souls there are, who little dream 
 
 Their daily strife an Angel's theme, 
 
 Or that the rod they take so calm 
 
 Shall prove in Heaven a martyr's palm. 
 
 And there are souls that seem to dwell 
 Above this earth — so rich a spell 
 Floats round their steps, where'er they move, 
 From hopes fulfill'd and mutual love. 
 
 * That little coronet or special reward which God hath pre- 
 pared (extraordinary and besides the great Crown of all faithful souls) 
 for those " who have not defiled themselves with women, but follow 
 the (virgin) Lamb for ever." Bishop Taylor, Holy Living, c. xi. sect. 3. 
 
Wednesday before Foster. 105 
 
 Such, if on high their thoughts are set, 
 Nor in the stream the source forget, 
 If prompt to quit the bliss they know, 
 Following the Lamb where'er He go, 
 By purest pleasures unbeguil'd 
 To idolize or wife or child; 
 Such wedded souls our God shall own 
 For faultless virgins round His throne. 
 
 Thus every where we find our suffering God, 
 
 And where He trod 
 May set our steps: the Cross on Calvary 
 
 Uplifted high 
 Beams on the martyr host, a beacon light 
 
 In open fight. 
 
 To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart 
 
 He doth impart 
 The virtue of His midnight agony, 
 
 When none was nigh, 
 Save God and one good angel, to assuage 
 
 The tempest's rage. 
 
 Mortal! if life smile on thee, and thou find 
 
 All to thy mind, 
 Think, who did once from Heaven to Hell descend 
 
 Thee to befriend: 
 So shalt thou dare forego, at His dear call, 
 
 Thy best, thine all. 
 
 " Father! not my will, but thine be done" — 
 
 So spake the Son. 
 Be this our charm, mellowing Earth's ruder noise 
 
 Of griefs and joys; 
 That we may cling for ever to thy breast 
 
 In perfect rest! 
 
106 
 
 THURSDAY BEFORE EASTER 
 
 THE VISION OF THE LATTER DAYS. 
 
 At the beginningof thy supplications the commandment came forth, 
 and I am come to show thee, for thou art greatly beloved; therefore 
 understand the matter, and consider the vision. Daniel ix. 23. [First 
 Morning Lesson, Church of England.} 
 
 " O HOLY mountain of my God, 
 
 " How do thy towers in ruin lie, 
 " How art thou riven and strewn abroad, 
 
 " Under the rude and wasteful sky!" 
 'Twas thus upon his fasting-day 
 The " Man of Loves" was fain to pray,* 
 His lattice openf toward his darling- west, 
 Mourning the ruin'd home he still must love the best. 
 
 Oh for a love like Daniel's now, 
 
 To wing to Heaven but one strong prayer 
 
 For God's new Israel, sunk as low, 
 Yet nourishing to sight as fair, 
 
 As Sion in her height of pride, 
 
 With queens for handmaids at her side, 
 
 With kings her nursing-fathers, throned high, 
 And compass'd with the world's too tempting blazonry. 
 
 * [" O Daniel, a man greatly beloved;" Hebrew, a man of desires, or 
 loves. Daniel x. 11 J 
 t Daniel vi. 10. 
 
Thursday before Easter. 107 
 
 'Tis true, nor winter stays thy growth, 
 
 Nor torrid summer's sickly smile; 
 The flashing billows of the south 
 
 Break not upon so lone an isle, 
 But thou, rich vine, art grafted there, 
 The fruit of death or life to bear, 
 Yielding a surer witness every day, 
 To thine Almighty Author, and his steadfast sway. 
 
 Oh grief to think, that grapes of gall 
 
 Should cluster round thine healthiest shoot! 
 
 God's herald prove a heartless thrall, 
 Who, if he dar'd, would fain be mute! 
 
 Even such is this bad world we see, 
 
 Which, self-condemn'd in owning Thee, 
 
 Yet dares not open farewell of Thee take, 
 For very pride, and her high-boasted Reason's sake. 
 
 What do we then] if far and wide 
 
 Men kneel to Christ, the pure and meek, 
 
 Yet rage with passion, swell with pride, 
 Have we not still our faith to seek? 
 
 Nay — but in steadfast humbleness 
 
 Kneel on to Him, who loves to bless 
 
 The prayer that waits for Him; and trembling strive 
 To keep the lingering flame in thine own breast alive. 
 
 Dark frown'd the future even on him, 
 
 The loving and beloved Seer, 
 What time he saw, through shadows dim, 
 
 The boundary of th' eternal year; 
 He only of the sons of men 
 Nam'd to be heir of glory then.* 
 
 * Dan. xii. 13. See Bishop Kenn's Sermon on the Character of 
 Daniel. 
 
 [*' All these wonderful vouchsafements from above to Daniel, though 
 they were most illustrious demonstrations that he was greatly beloved, 
 
108 Thursday before Easter. 
 
 Else had it bruis'd too sore his tender heart 
 To see God's ransom'd world in wrath and flame depart. 
 
 Then look no more: or closer watch 
 
 Thy course in Earth's bewildering ways, 
 For every glimpse thine eye can catch 
 
 Of what shall be in those dread days: 
 So when th' Archangel's word is spoken, 
 And Death's deep trance for ever broken, 
 In mercy thou may'st feel the heavenly hand, 
 And in thy lot unharm'd before thy Saviour stand.* 
 
 yet they were indulged him for the sake of others, as well as for his 
 own. There is therefore one more illustrious than all these, and 
 that is a favour which God bestows on but very few, and on none but 
 great saints, who are greatly beloved; and not usually on them, till 
 near their death, and is the very top blessing of which man is capable 
 in this life, the highest bliss on this side of heaven; and that is an 
 absolute assurance of a glorious immortality; and such an assurance 
 as this, had the beloved Daniel: for the angel, having discoursed to 
 him of the resurrection of those that sleep in the dust and of their 
 awaking to everlasting life, adds. Go thy way till the end be: for thou 
 shalt rest, and stand in the lot at the end of the days. O the unutterable 
 felicity of this man, thus greatly beloved by Ood! whilst the generality 
 of saints sigh under their flesh and blood, which clogs, and loads, and 
 depresses them ; whilst the penitent are still begging their pardon, and 
 the humble full of fears and misgivings, by reason of their numerous 
 failings; whilst the best of them all see heaven only through a glass- 
 darkly, and at a distance, and can reach no higher in this world than 
 hope, and desire, and reliance on God's promise, and patient expecta- 
 tion ; Daniel, the man greatly beloved, has an angel sent on purpose by 
 God, to assure him of his lot in a glorious eternity, and that his man- 
 sion there was prepared and brightened to receive him. And yet this 
 is not all, Daniel was not only assured of future glory, but of a greater 
 degree of glory than others had: for having made it his great business 
 here below to love God himself, and greatly to love him, and to excite 
 others to love God as greatly as he loved him, he was to have a more 
 sublime exaltation in bliss than ordinary; the greater his love was, 
 the nearer was he to be seated to the throne of God his beloved; and 
 having turned many to righteousness, he was to shine as the stars for ever 
 and ever.' 1 '' — A Short Account of the Life of the Rt. Rev Father in Ood, 
 Thomas Kcnn, D.D. By TV. Hawkins, Esq. London, 1713, 12mo.] 
 
 * Dan. xii. 13. Thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of 
 the days. 
 
109 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 He is despised and rejected of men. Isaiah liii. 3. [First Evening 
 Lesson.] 
 
 [Almishty God, we beseech thee graciously to behold this thy family, 
 for which our Lord Jesus Christ was coatented to be betrayed, and 
 given up into the hands of wicked men, and to suffer death upon the 
 cross, who now liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, 
 ever one God, world without end. Amen. 
 
 Almighty and everlasting God. by whose Spirit the whole body of 
 the Church is governed and sanctified; receive our supplications and 
 prayers, which we offer before thee for all estates of men in thy holy 
 Church, that every member of the same, in his vocation and ministry, 
 may truly and godly serve thee, through our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ. Amen. 
 
 O merciful God, who hast made all men, and hatest nothing that 
 thou hast made, nor desirest the death of a sinner, but rather that be 
 should be converted and live; have mercy upon all Jews, Turks, Infi- 
 dels and Heretics; and take from them all ignorance, hardness of 
 heart, and contempt of thy word; and so fetch them home, blessed 
 Lord, to thy flock, that they may be saved among the remnant of the 
 true Israelites, and be made one fold under one Shepherd, Jesus Christ 
 our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one 
 God, world without end. Amen.~] 
 
 IS it not strange, the darkest hour 
 That ever dawn'd on sinful earth 
 Should touch the heart with softer power 
 For comfort, than an angel's mirth] 
 That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn 
 Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn] 
 
 * [The most solemn fast of the Christian Church, observed in com- 
 memoration of her Saviour's Crucifixion, making atonement for the 
 sins of men] 
 10 
 
110 Good Friday. 
 
 Sooner than where the Easter sun 
 
 Shines glorious on yon open grave, 
 And to and fro the tidings run, 
 
 " Who died to heal, is ris'n to save." 
 Sooner than where upon the Saviour's friends 
 The very Comforter in light and love descends. 
 
 Yet so it is: for duly there 
 
 The bitter herbs of earth are set, 
 Till temper'd by the Saviour's prayer, 
 And with the Saviour's life-blood wet, 
 They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm, 
 Soft as imprison'd martyr's deathbed calm. 
 
 All turn to sweet — but most of all 
 That bitterest to the lip of pride, 
 When hopes presumptuous fade and fall, 
 Or Friendship scorns us, duly tried, 
 Or Love, the flower that closes up for fear 
 When rude and selfish spirits breathe too near. 
 
 Then like a long-forgotten strain 
 
 Comes sweeping o'er the heart forlorn 
 What sunshine hours had taught in vain 
 Of Jesus suffering shame and scorn, 
 As in all lowly hearts he suffers still, 
 While we triumphant ride, and have the world at will. 
 
 His pierced hands in vain would hide 
 
 His face from rude reproachful gaze, 
 His ears are open to abide 
 
 The wildest storm the tongue can raise, 
 He who with one rough word,* some early day,f 
 Their idol world and them shall sweep for aye away. 
 
 * Wisdom of Solomon xii. 9. 
 
 | [" Nevertheless, even those thou spared-t as men, and didst send 
 wasps, forerunners of thine host, to destroy them by little and little. 
 
Good Friday. Ill 
 
 But we by Fancy may assuage 
 
 The festering sore by Fancy made, 
 Down in some lonely hermitage 
 Like wounded pilgrims safely laid, 
 Where gentlest breezes whisper souls distress'd, 
 That Love yet lives, and Patience shall find rest. 
 
 Oh shame beyond the bitterest thought 
 
 That evil spirit ever fram'd, 
 That sinners know what Jesus wrought, 
 Yet feel their haughty hearts untam'd — 
 That souls in refuge, holding by the Cross, 
 Should wince and fret at this world's little loss. 
 
 Lord of my heart, by thy last cry, 
 
 Let not thy blood on earth be spent — 
 Lo, at thy feet I fainting lie, 
 
 Mine eyes upon thy wounds are bent, 
 Upon thy streaming wounds my weary eyes 
 "Wait like the parched earth on April skies. 
 
 Wash me, and dry these bitter tears, 
 
 O let my heart no further roam, 
 'Tis thine by vows, and hopes, and fears, 
 Long since— O call thy wanderer home; 
 To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side, 
 Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide. 
 
 Not that thou wast unable to bring the ungodly under the hand of the 
 righteous in batile, or to destroy them at once with cruel beasts or 
 with one rough word; but executing thy judgments upon them by little 
 and little, thou gavest them place of repentance " Wisdom of Solomon 
 xn. 8, 9, 10.] 
 
112 
 
 EASTER EVE. 
 
 As for thee also, by the blood of thy covenant I have sent forth thy 
 prisoners out of the pit wherein is no water. Zech. ix. 11. [First 
 Morning Lesson] 
 
 [Grant, O Lord, that as we are baptized into the death of thy blessed 
 Son our Saviour Jesus i hrist, so by continual mortifying our corrupt 
 affections, we may be buried with him; and that through the grave 
 and gate of death we may pnss to our joyful resurrection, for his 
 merits, who died, and was buried, and rose again for us, thy Son Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 AT length the worst is o'er, and Thou art laid 
 
 Deep in thy darksome bed; 
 All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone 
 
 Thy sacred form is gone; 
 Around those lips where power and mercy hung, 
 
 The dews of death have clung; 
 The dull earth o'er Thee and thy foes around, 
 Thou sleep'st a silent corse, in funeral fetters wound. 
 
 Sleep'st Thou indeed 1 ? or is thy spirit fled, 
 
 At large among the dead] 
 Whether in Eden bowers thy welcome voice 
 
 Wake Abraham to rejoice, 
 Or in some drearier scene thine eye controls 
 
 The thronging band of souls;* 
 
 * [Easter Eve commemorates the period between the death of Jesus, 
 and his resurrection. For the allusion here, see Bishop Horsley on 1 
 Peter iii. 18, 19 — " Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the 
 Spirit, by which also, he went and preached unto the spirits in pri- 
 son."] 
 
 « 
 
Easter Eve. 113 
 
 That, as thy blood won earth, thine agony- 
 Might set the shadowy realm from sin and sorrow free. 
 
 Where'er Thou roam'st, one happy soul, we know,* 
 
 Seen at thy side in woe,f 
 Waits on thy triumph — even as all the blest 
 
 With him and Thee shall rest. 
 Each on his cross, by Thee we hang a while, 
 
 Watching thy patient smile, 
 Till we have learn'd to say, "'Tis justly done, 
 " Only in glory, Lord, thy sinful servant own." 
 
 Soon wilt Thou take us to thy tranquil bower 
 
 To rest one little hour, 
 Till thine elect are number'd, and the grave 
 
 Call Thee to come and save; 
 Then on thy bosom born shall we descend, 
 
 Again with earth to blend, 
 Earth all refin'd with bright supernal fires, 
 Tinctur'd with holy blood, and wing'd with pure desires. 
 
 Meanwhile with every son and saint of thine 
 
 Along the glorious line, 
 Sitting by turns beneath thy sacred feet 
 
 We'n hold communion sweet, 
 Know them by look and voice, and thank them all 
 
 For helping us in thrall, 
 For words of hope, and bright examples given 
 To show through moonless skies that there is light in 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 come that day, when in this restless heart 
 
 Earth shall resign her part, 
 When in the grave with Thee my limbs shall rest, 
 
 My soul with Thee be blest ! 
 
 * [The penitent thief. " Today shaH thou be with me in paradise." 
 St. Luke xxiii. 43 ] 
 t St. Luke xxiii. 43. 
 
 10* 
 
114 Easter Eve. 
 
 But stay, presumptuous— Christ with thee abides 
 
 In the rock's dreary sides: 
 He from the stone will wring celestial dew 
 If but the prisoner's heart be faithful found and true. 
 
 When tears are spent, and thou art left alone 
 
 With ghosts of blessings gone, 
 Think thou art taken from the cross, and laid 
 
 In Jesus' burial shade; 
 Take Moses' rod, the rod of prayer, and call 
 
 Out of the rocky wall 
 The fount of holy blood; and lift on high 
 Thy grovelling soul that feels so desolate and dry. 
 
 Prisoner of Hope thou art* — look up and sing 
 
 In hope of promis'd spring. 
 As in the pit his father's darling lay| 
 
 Beside the desert way, 
 And knew not how, but knew his God would save 
 
 Even from that living grave, 
 So buried with our Lord, we'll close our eyes 
 To the decaying world, till Angels bid us rise. 
 
 * Zechariah ix. 12. Turn ye to the strong hold, ye prisoners of hope. 
 t Gen. xxxvii. 24. They took him and cast him into a pit, and the 
 pit was empty, there was no water in it. 
 
115 
 
 EASTER DAY.* 
 
 And as they were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth, 
 they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is 
 not here, but is risen. St. Luke xxiv. 5, 6. 
 
 [Almighty God, who through thine only begotten Son Jesus Christ 
 hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life; 
 we humbly beseech thee, that as. by thy special grace preventing us, 
 thou dost put into our minds good desires; so by thy continual help we 
 may bring the same to good effect, through Jesus Christ our Lord, who 
 liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world 
 without end. jQmen.] 
 
 OH day of days! shall hearts set freef 
 No " minstrel rapture" find for Thee] 
 Thou art the Sun of other days, 
 They shine by giving back thy rays: 
 
 Enthroned in thy sovereign sphere 
 Thou shedd'st thy light on all the year: 
 Sundays by Thee more glorious break, 
 An Easter Day in every week:^: 
 
 * [Easter, derived from a Saxon word meaning to rise, is the name 
 given to the festival which commemorates the resurrection of Jesus 
 Christ from the dead. Tt is always held on the Sunday after the full 
 moon which immediately succeeds the 21st day of March, the vernal 
 equinox The occurrence of Easter Sunday regulates all the moveable 
 feasts of the year. It cannot be earlier than the 22d of March, nor 
 later than the 25th of April.] 
 
 t [Easter was anciently called the Great Day, the Feast of feasts, 
 and the Queen of feasts.] 
 
 X [The first day of the week, Sunday, being hallowed from the 
 apostles' times, as commemorative of the resurrection, is, as it were, 
 a weekly Easter ] 
 
1 1 6 Easter Day. 
 
 And week-days, following in their train, 
 The fulness of thy blessing gain, 
 Till all, both resting and employ, 
 Be one Lord's day of holy joy.* 
 
 Then wake, my soul, to high desires, f 
 And earlier light thine altar fires: 
 The World some hours is on her way, 
 Nor thinks on thee, thou blessed day.^: 
 
 Or, if she think, it is in scorn: 
 The vernal light of Easter morn 
 To her dark gaze no brighter seems 
 Than Reason's or the Law's pale beams. 
 
 " Where is your Lord?" she scornful asks: 
 " W T here is his hire? we know his tasks; 
 " Sons of a king ye boast to be; 
 " Let us your crowns and treasures see." 
 
 * ["Can there be any day but this, 
 
 Though many suns to shine endeavour? 
 We count three hundred; but we miss: 
 
 There is but one; and that otie, every 
 
 "Easter,'* by George Herbert ] 
 
 t ["Rise, heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise 
 
 Without delays 
 Who takes thpe by the hand, that thou likewise 
 With him mayest rise" 
 
 '■'Easter," by George Herbert.] 
 } ["It is Easter, beautiful Easter. The time in all the year when 
 nature's types most clearly shadow forlh the realities of the Christian 
 dispensation. For the first butterfly has burst from its grave-clothes, 
 and is gone up towards heaven in the light of this season ; and look ! 
 a thousand blossoms hang on branches that were to all appearance 
 dead last week — nay! that but a fortnight ago were bending beneath 
 a heavy load of snow ; and see how the chestnut buds, wrapped up as 
 they were by God's own hand with inimitable art, fold within fold, 
 have heard the voice of God in the garden, and burst their cerements, 
 and sprung forth in beauty, exulting in the life He has renewed to 
 them. And the primroses too are up, round the foot of the old cross, 
 and the daisies and the cuckooflowers are awake, and, rising cut of 
 their graves under every hedge, tell their tale of hope and the resur- 
 rection." Scenes in our Parish, by a Country Parso7i's Daughter.] 
 
Easter Day. 117 
 
 We in the words of Truth reply, 
 (An angel brought them from the sky) 
 " Our crown, our treasure is not here, 
 " 'Tis stor'd above the highest sphere: 
 
 " Methinks your wisdom guides amiss, 
 "To seek on earth a Christian's bliss; 
 " We watch not now the lifeless stone; 
 "Our only Lord is risen and gone." 
 
 Yet even the lifeless stone is dear 
 For thoughts of Him who late lay here; 
 And the base world, now Christ hath died, 
 Ennobled is and glorified. 
 
 No more a charnel-house, to fence 
 
 The relics of lost innocence, 
 
 A vault of ruin and decay; 
 
 Th' imprisoning stone is roll'd away. 
 
 'Tis now a cell, where angels use 
 To come and go with heavenly news, 
 And in the ears of mourners say, 
 " Come, see the place where Jesus lay:" 
 
 'Tis now a fane, where Love can find 
 Christ every where embalm'd and shrin'd; 
 Aye gathering up memorials sweet, 
 Where'er she sets her duteous feet. 
 
 Oh! joy to Mary first allowed, 
 When rous'd from weeping o'er his shroud, 
 By his own calm, soul-soothing tone, 
 Breathing her name, as still his own! 
 
 Joy to the faithful Three renew'd 
 As their glad errand they pursued! 
 Happy, who so Christ's word convey, 
 That he may meet them on their way! 
 
1 i 8 Easter Day. 
 
 So is it still: to holy tears, 
 In lonely hours, Christ risen appears: 
 In social hours, who Christ would see, 
 Must turn all tasks to Charity. 
 
 MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 ST. PETER AND CORNELIUS. 
 
 Of a truth, T perceive that God is no respecter of persons; but in 
 every nation he that feareth him and worketh righteousness is ac- 
 cepted with him. Acts x. 34, 35. [Scripture appointed as the Epistle 
 for the Day.} 
 
 [Almighty God, who through thine only begotten Son Jesus Christ 
 hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life; 
 we humbly beseech thee, that as, by thy special grace preventing us, 
 thou dost put into our minds good desires; so by thy continual help 
 we may bring the same to good effect, through Jesus Christ our Lord ; 
 who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, 
 world without end. Amen.'] 
 
 GO up and watch the new-born rill 
 Just trickling- from its mossy bed, 
 Streaking the heath-clad hill 
 With a bright emerald thread. 
 
 Canst thou her bold career foretell, 
 What rocks she shall o'erleap or rend, 
 How far in Ocean's swell 
 Her freshening billows send? 
 
 Perchance that little brook shall flow 
 The bulwark of some mighty realm, 
 Bear navies to and fro 
 
 With monarchs at their helm. 
 
Monday in Easter Week. 119 
 
 Or canst thou guess, how far away 
 Some sister nymph, beside her urn 
 Reclining night and day, 
 
 'Mid reeds and mountain fern, 
 
 Nurses her store, with thine to blend 
 When many a moor and glen are past, 
 Then in the wide sea end 
 Their spotless lives at last? 
 
 Even so, the course of prayer who knows? 
 It springs in silence where it will, 
 Springs out of sight, and flows 
 At first a lonely rill: 
 
 But streams shall meet it by and by 
 From thousand sympathetic hearts, 
 Together swelling high 
 
 Their chant of many parts. 
 
 Unheard by all but angel ears 
 The good Cornelius knelt alone, 
 Nor dream'd his prayers and tears 
 Would help a world undone. 
 
 The while upon his terrac'd roof 
 The lov'd Apostle to his Lord 
 In silent thought aloof 
 
 For heavenly vision soar'd. 
 
 Far o'er the glowing western main* 
 His wistful brow was upward rais'd, 
 Where, like an Angel's train, 
 The burnish'd water blaz'd. 
 
 The saint beside the ocean pray'd, 
 The soldier in his chosen bower, 
 
 * [Peter was at Joppa, on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean.] 
 
120 Monday in Easter Week. 
 
 Where all his eye survey'd 
 Seem'd sacred in that hour.* 
 
 To each unknown his brother's prayer, f 
 .Yet brethren true in dearest love 
 Were they — and now they share 
 Fraternal joys above. 
 
 There daily through Christ's open gate 
 
 They see the Gentile spirits press, 
 
 Brightening their high estate 
 
 With dearer happiness. 
 
 What civic wreath for comrades sav'd 
 Shone ever with such deathless gleam, 
 Or when did perils brav'd 
 So sweet to veterans seem] 
 
 * [" The sacred peacefulness of prayer." Bishop Mant, Gospel Mi- 
 racles, 2. 32 ] 
 t [See the beautiful story of Cornelius, in Acts x.] 
 
121 
 
 TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 THE SNOW DROP. 
 
 And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great 
 joy, and did run to bring His disciples word. St. Matthew xxviii. 8. 
 
 [Almishty God, who through thine only begotten Son Jesus Christ 
 hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life ; 
 we humbly beseech th";e, that as, by thy special grace preventing us, 
 thou dost put into our minds good desires; so by thy continual help 
 we may bring the same to good effect, through Jesus Christ our Lord, 
 who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, 
 world without end. Amen.\ 
 
 THOU first-bom of the year's delight,* 
 
 Pride of the dewy glade, 
 In vernal green and virgin white, 
 
 Thy vestal robes arrayed; 
 
 'Tis not because thy drooping form 
 
 Sinks graceful on its nest, 
 When chilly shades from gathering storm 
 
 Affright thy tender breast; 
 
 Nor for yon river islet wild 
 
 Beneath the willow spray, 
 Where, like the ringlets of a child, 
 
 Thou weav'st thy circle gay; 
 
 * ["We catch the first flower of the season, too, the little snow drop 
 {galanthus nivalis), haply rearing its tiny bell, through the lingering 
 snow, under some hedge or bank." Mudie's British Naturalist, vol. ii. 
 p. 107.] 
 
 11 
 
122 Tuesday in Easter Week. 
 
 'Tis not for these I love thee dear — 
 
 Thy shy averted smiles 
 To Fancy bode a joyous year, 
 
 One of Life's fairy isles. 
 
 They twinkle to the wintry moon, 
 
 And cheer th' ungenial day, 
 And tell us, all will glisten soon 
 
 As green and bright as they. 
 
 Is there a heart, that loves the spring, 
 
 Their witness can refuse? 
 Yet mortals doubt, when angels bring 
 
 From heaven their Easter news: 
 
 When holy maids and matrons speak 
 
 Of Christ's forsaken bed, 
 And voices, that forbid to seek 
 
 The living 'mid the dead. 
 
 And when they say, "Turn, wandering heart, 
 
 " Thy Lord is ris'n indeed, 
 " Let Pleasure go, put Care apart, 
 
 "And to His presence speed;" 
 
 We smile in scorn: and yet we know 
 
 They early sought the tomb, 
 Their hearts, that now so freshly glow, 
 
 Lost in desponding gloom. 
 
 They who have sought, nor hope to find, 
 
 Wear not so bright a glance: 
 They who have won their earthly mind, 
 
 Less reverently advance. 
 
 But where, in gentle spirits, fear 
 
 And joy so duly meet, 
 These sure have seen the angels near, 
 
 And kiss'd the Saviour's feet. 
 
Tuesday in Easter Week, 123 
 
 Nor let the Pastor's thankful eye 
 
 Their faltering- tale disdain, 
 As on their lowly couch they lie, 
 
 Prisoners of want and pain. 
 
 O guide us, when our faithless hearts 
 
 From Thee would start aloof, 
 Where Patience her sweet skill imparts 
 
 Beneath some cottage roof: 
 
 Revive our dying fires, to burn 
 
 High as her anthems soar, 
 And of our scholars let us learn 
 
 Our own forgotten lore. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 THE RESTLESS PASTOR REPROVED. 
 
 Seemeth it but a small thing unto you, that the God of Israel hath 
 separated you from the congregation of Israel, to bring you near to 
 Himself? Numbers xvi. 9. [First Morning Lesson, Church of England.] 
 
 [Almighty Father, who hast given thine only Son to die for our sins, 
 and to rise again for our justification; grant us so to put away the 
 leaven of malice and wickedness, that we may always serve thee in 
 pureness of living and truth, through the merits of the same, thy Son 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.~\ 
 
 FIRST Father of the holy seed, 
 If yet, invok'd in hour of need, 
 
 Thou count me for thine own, 
 Not quite an outcast if I prove, 
 (Thou joy'st in miracles of love) 
 
 Hear, from thy mercy-throne! 
 
124 First Sunday after Easter. 
 
 Upon thine altar's horn of gold 
 Help me to lay my trembling hold, 
 
 Though stain'd with Christian gore; — 
 The blood of souls by Thee redeem'd,* 
 But, while I rov'd or idly dream'd, 
 
 Lost to be found no more. 
 
 For oft, when summer leaves were bright, 
 And every flower was bath'd in light, 
 
 In sunshine moments past, 
 My wilful heart would burst away 
 From where the holy shadow lay, 
 
 Where Heaven my lot had cast. 
 
 I thought it scorn with Thee to dwell, 
 A Hermit in a silent cell, 
 
 While, gaily sweeping by, 
 Wild Fancy blew his bugle strain, 
 And marshal I'd all his gallant train 
 
 In the world's wondering eye. 
 
 I would have join'd him— but as oft 
 Thy whisper'd warnings, kind and soft, 
 
 My better soul confess'd. 
 "My servant, let the world alone — 
 " Safe on the steps of Jesus' throne 
 
 " Be tranquil and be blest. 
 
 44 Seems it to thee a niggard hand 
 "That nearest Heaven has bade thee stand, 
 "The ark to touch and bear, 
 
 * ["But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the 
 trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take 
 any person from among them, he is taken away in bis iniquity, but 
 his blood will I require at the watchman's hand.'" Ezekiel xx.xiri. 6. 
 
 "Take heed, therefore, unto yourselves, and to all the flock over the 
 which the Holy Ghost has made you overseers, to feed the Church of 
 Ood, which he hath purchased icith his blood.'" Acts xx. 2?.] 
 
First Sunday aflcr Easter. 125 
 
 " With incense of pure heart's desire 
 " To heap the censer's sacred fire, 
 "The snow-white Ephod wear?" 
 
 Why should we crave the worldling's wreath,* 
 On whom the Saviour deign'd to breathe, 
 
 To whom his keys were given, 
 Who lead the choir where angels meet, 
 W T ith angels' food our brethren greet, 
 
 And pour the drink of Heaven'? 
 
 When sorrow all our heart would ask, 
 We need not shun our daily task, 
 
 And hide ourselves for cairn; 
 The herbs we seek to heal our woe 
 Familiar by our pathway grow, 
 
 Our common air is balm. 
 
 Around each pure domestic shrine 
 Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine, 
 
 Oar hearths are altars all; 
 The prayers of hungry souls and poor, 
 Like armed angels at the door, 
 
 Our unseen foes appal. 
 
 Alms all around and hymns within — 
 What evil eye can entrance win 
 
 Where guards like these abound? 
 If chance some heedless heart should roam, 
 Sure, thought of these will lure it home 
 
 Ere lost in Folly's round. 
 
 O joys, that sweetest in decay, 
 Fall not, like wither'd leaves, away, 
 
 * [Can there be imagined a more eloquent delineation of the pure 
 
 and exalted pleasures of the pastoral office than is afforded in the lines 
 
 which follow; or a pastoral heart that is not moved by them to deeper 
 
 gratitude and more devoted earnestness?] 
 
 11* 
 
126 First Sunday after Easier, 
 
 But with the silent breath 
 Of violets drooping one by one, 
 Soon as their fragrant task is done, 
 
 Are wafted high in death! 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 BALAAM. 
 
 He hath said, which heard the words of God, and knew the knowledge 
 of the Most High: which saw the vision of the Almighty, falling into 
 a trance, but having his eyes open: I shall see him, but not now: I 
 shall behold him, but not nigh: there shall come a Star out of Jacob, 
 and a Sceptre shall arise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of 
 Moab, and destroy all the children of Sheth. Numbers xxiv. 16, 17. 
 [First Morning Lesson, Church of England.} 
 
 [Almighty God, who hast given thine only Son to be unto us both a 
 sacrifice for sin, and also an ensample of godly life; give us grace that 
 we may always most thankfully receive that, his inestimable benefit, 
 and also daily endeavour ourselves to follow the blessed steps of his 
 most holy life, through the same, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 O FOR a sculptor's hand, 
 
 That thou might'st take thy stand,* 
 Thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze, 
 
 Thy tranc'd yet open gaze 
 
 Fix'd on the desert haze, 
 As one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees. 
 
 In outline dim and vast 
 Their fearful shadows cast 
 The giant forms of empires on their way 
 
 * [The prophet Balaam. J 
 
Second Sunday after Easter. 127 
 
 To ruin: one by one 
 They tower and they are gone, 
 Yet in the Prophet's soul the dreams of avarice stay.* 
 
 No sun or star so bright 
 
 In all the world of light 
 That they should draw to heaven his downward eye: 
 
 He hears th' Almighty's word, 
 
 He sees the angel's sword, 
 Yet low upon the earth his heart and treasure lie. 
 
 Lo from yon argent field, 
 
 To him and us reveal'd, 
 One gentle star glides down, on earth to dwell. 
 
 Chain'd as they are below 
 
 Our eyes may see it glow, 
 And as it mounts again, may track its brightness well. 
 
 To him it glar'd afar, 
 
 A token of wild war, 
 The banner of his Lord's victorious wrath: 
 
 But close to us it gleams, 
 
 Its soothing lustre streams 
 Around our home's green walls, and on our church-way 
 path. 
 
 We in the tents abide 
 
 "Which he at distance eyed 
 Like goodly cedars by the waters spread, 
 
 While seven red altar-firesf 
 
 Rose up in wavy spires, 
 Where on the mount he watch'd his sorceries dark and 
 dread. 
 
 * [" Balaam, the son of Bosor, who loved the wages of unrighteous' 
 ?iC5s." 2 Peter ii. 15 ] 
 t ["Build me here seven altars." Numbers xxxiii. 1] 
 
128 Second Sunday after Easter, 
 
 He wateh'd till morning's ray 
 
 On lake and meadow lay, 
 And willow-shaded streams, that silent sweep 
 
 Around the banner'd lines,* 
 
 Where by their several signs 
 The desert-wearied tribes in sight of Canaan sleep. 
 
 He watch'd till knowledge came 
 
 Upon his soul like flame, 
 Not of those magic fires at random caught: 
 
 But true prophetic light 
 
 Flash'd o'er him, high and bright, 
 Flash'd once, and died away, and left his darken'd thought. 
 
 And can he choose but fear, 
 
 Who feels his God so near, 
 That when he fain would curse, his powerless tongue 
 
 In blessing only moves'? — 
 
 Alas! the world he loves 
 Too close around his heart her tangling veil hath flung. 
 
 Sceptre and Star divine, f 
 
 Who in thine inmost shrine 
 Hast made us worshippers, O claim thine own; 
 
 More than thy seers we know — 
 
 O teach our love to grow 
 Up to thy heavenly light, and reap what Thou hast sown. 
 
 * [" And Balaam lifted up his eyes, and he saw Israel abiding in his 
 tents, according to their tribes." JVurnbers xxiv. 2.] 
 
 t [" 'i'hrre shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise 
 out of Israel" — prophetic types of the Messiah.] 
 
129 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER 
 
 LANGUOR AND TRAVAIL. 
 
 [A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is 
 come : but when she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more 
 the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world. St. John xvi. 
 21. [Gospel for the Day.} 
 
 [Almighty God, who showest to them that are in error the light of 
 thy truth, to the intent that they may return into the way of righteous- 
 ness; grant unto all those who are admitted into the fellowship of 
 Christ's religion, that they may avoid those things that are contrary 
 to their profession, and follow all such things as are agreeable to the 
 same, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.} 
 
 WELL may I guess and feel 
 Why Autumn should be sad; 
 But vernal airs should sorrow heal, 
 Spring should be gay and glad: : 
 
 * [Keble is a dear lover of the spring. Tt is in harmony with his 
 Christian hopes, and it indulges in him that keen and grateful love of 
 life which breathes in all he writes. " That is the grand time of ob- 
 servation," sa\ s one of nature's shrewdest observers, " the busy season 
 with all nature, in every thing that grows and lives. How countless 
 are the millions of little buds, which one of these 'showering and 
 shining" days brings into leaf! They are fresh and washed by the 
 shower; and when the warmth comes, you would absolutely think 
 that you can both see and hear them cracking their scaly cases in 
 which they were confined and protected for the winter; and that the 
 little green tufts were toiling, like living and rational creatures, at 
 strife, which should produce the finest shoot, and the fairest blossom. 
 Then the whisking wings and the thrilling throats are, apparently, 
 enough to put the air into a state of commotion. And they are all in 
 the act of beautifying nature too: some are plucking the dry grass so 
 that the fields may look green; others are gathering up the withered 
 sticks; others, again, the lost feathers and hairs; and others, still, aro 
 
130 Third Sunday after Easter. 
 
 Yet as along this violet bank I rove, 
 
 The languid sweetness seems to choke my breath, 
 I sit me down beside the hazel grove, 
 And sigh, and half could wish my weariness were death. 
 
 Like a bright veering cloud 
 Gray blossoms twinkle there, 
 Warbles around a busy crow d 
 Of larks in purest air. 
 Shame on the heart that dreams of blessings gone, 
 
 Or wakes the spectral forms of woe and crime, 
 "When nature sings of joy and hope alone, 
 Reading her cheerful lesson in her own sweet time. 
 
 Nor let the proud heart say, 
 In her self-torturing hour, 
 The travail pangs must have their way, 
 The aching brow must lower. 
 To us long since the glorious Child is born, 
 Our throes should be forgot, or only seem 
 Like a sad vision told for joy at morn, 
 For joy that we have wak'd and found it but a dream. 
 
 pulling the lichens from the bark of the trees. The merles and the 
 mavises are running under the hedges and the evergreens in the shrub- 
 bery, and capturing the snails in their winter habitations, before they 
 have had time to prepare those hordes which would be the pest of the 
 gardeners for the whole season. Other birds are inspecting the buds 
 in the orchard, and picking off every one which contains a caterpillar 
 or a nest of eggs, that would pour forth their destructive horde, and 
 render the whole tree lifeless Yonder again are the rooks, clearing 
 the meadow of the young cockchafers, which the heat has brought 
 nearer to the surface; and which, if they were to remain there, would 
 soon begin to eat the roots of the grass to such extent that the turf 
 would peel off as easily as the withered tunic of an onion Some of 
 them come from a distance too, for there are the white sea-gulls, with 
 their long bent wings and their wailing screams, busy in the same 
 field with the ploughmen, and picking up the 'animal weeds,' while 
 the ploughs are turning down the vegetable ones. All the countless 
 races of that time of labour and of love, both native and visitant, are 
 busy following their own purpose, or rather the law of their being, for 
 they form no purpose of their own, or they would sometimes commit 
 errors of judgment as we do, but they do not." JUudic's Observation of 
 Nature, pp. 177, 178.J 
 
Third Sunday after Easter. 131 
 
 Mysterious to all thought 
 A mother's prime of bliss, 
 When to her eager lips is brought 
 Her infant's thrilling kiss. 
 O never shall it set, the sacred light 
 
 Which dawns that moment on her tender gaze, 
 In the eternal distance blending bright 
 Her darling's hope and hers, for love and joy and praise. 
 
 No need for her to weep 
 
 Like Thracian wives of yore, 
 Save when in rapture still and deep 
 Her thankful heart runs o'er. 
 They mourn'd to trust their treasure on the main, 
 
 Sure of the storm, unknowing of their guide: 
 Welcome to her the peril and the pain, 
 For well she knows the home where they may safely hide. 
 
 She joys that one is born 
 Into a world forgiven, 
 Her Father's household to adorn, 
 And dwell with her in heaven. 
 So have I seen, in spring's bewitching hour, 
 
 When the glad earth is offering all her best, 
 Some gentle maid bend o'er a cherish'd flower, 
 And wish it worthier on a Parent's heart to rest. 
 
132 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 THE DOVE ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is expedient for you that I go 
 away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you: 
 but if [ depart, I will send him unto you. St. John xvi. 7. [Gospel for 
 the Day.'} 
 
 [O Almighty God, who alone canst order the unruly wills and affec- 
 tions of sinful men; grant unto thy people, that they may love the 
 thing which thou commandest, and desire that which thou dost pro- 
 mise ; that so, among the sundry and manifold changes of the world, 
 our hearts may surely there be fixed, where true joys are to be found, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 MY Saviour, can it ever be 
 That I should gain by losing- Thee? 
 The watchful mother tarries nigh 
 Though sleep have clos'd her infant's eye, 
 For should he wake, and find her gone, 
 She knows she could not bear his moan. 
 But I am weaker than a child, 
 
 And Thou art more than mother dear; 
 Without Thee Heaven were but a wild: 
 
 How can I live without Thee here! 
 
 " 'Tis good for you, that I should go, 
 "You lingering yet awhile below;" — 
 'Tis thine own gracious promise, Lord! 
 Thy saints have prov'd the faithful word, 
 When Heaven's bright boundless avenue 
 Far open'd on their eager view, 
 
Fourth Sunday after Easter. 133 
 
 And homeward to thy Father's throne, 
 Still lessening, brightening n their sight, 
 
 Thy shadowy car went soaring on; 
 
 They track'd Thee up th' abyss of light. 
 
 Thou bid'st rejoice; they dare not mourn, 
 But to their home in gladness turn, 
 Their home and God's, that favour' d place, 
 Where still he shines on Abraham's race, 
 In prayers and blessings there to wait 
 Like suppliants at their monarch's gate, 
 Who bent with bounty rare to aid 
 
 The splendours of his crowning day, 
 Keeps back awhile his largess, made 
 
 More welcome for that brief- delay: 
 
 In doubt they wait, but not unblest; 
 They doubt not of their Master's rest, 
 Nor of the gracious will of Heaven — 
 Who gave his Son, sure all has given* — • 
 But in ecstatic awe they muse 
 What course the genial stream may choose, 
 And far and wide their fancies rove, 
 
 And to their height of wonder strain, 
 What secret miracle of love 
 
 Should make their Saviour's going gain. 
 
 The days of hope and prayer are past, 
 The day of comfort dawns at last, 
 The everlasting gates again 
 Roll back, and lo! a royal train — 
 From the far depth of light once more 
 The floods of glory earthward pour: 
 
 * [" He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, 
 bow shall be not with him also freelv give us all things." Romans 
 viii.SS] 
 
 12 
 
1 34 Fourth Sunday after Easter. 
 
 They part like shower-drops in mid air, 
 But ne'er so soft fell noon-tide shower, 
 
 Nor evening- rainbow gleam'd so fair 
 To weary swains in parched bower. 
 
 Swiftly and straight each tongue of flame* 
 
 Through cloud and breeze unwavering came, 
 
 And darted to its place of rest 
 
 On some meek brow, of Jesus blest. 
 
 Nor fades it yet, that living gleam, 
 
 And still those lambent lightnings stream; 
 
 Where'er the Lord is, there are they; 
 
 In every heart that gives them room, 
 They light His altar every day, 
 
 Zeal to inflame, and vice consume. 
 
 Soft as the plumes of Jesus' Dove 
 They nurse the soul to heavenly love: 
 The struggling spark of good within, 
 Just smother' d in the strife of sin, 
 They quicken to a timely glow, 
 The pure flame spreading high and low. 
 Said I, that prayer and hope were o'er"? 
 
 Nay, blessed Spirit! but by Thee 
 The Church's prayer finds wings to soar, 
 
 The Church's hope finds eyes to see. 
 
 Then, fainting soul, arise and sing; 
 Mount, but be sober on the wing; 
 Mount up, for Heaven is won by prayer, 
 Be sober, for thou art not there; 
 Till Death the w^ary spirit free, 
 Thy God hath said, 'Tis good for thee 
 
 * ["There appeared unto them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it 
 sat upon each of them." Acts ii. 3.] 
 
Fourth Sunday after Easter. 1 35 
 
 To walk by faith and not by sight: 
 
 Take it on trust a little while; 
 Soon shalt thou read the mystery right 
 
 In the full sunshine of His smile. 
 
 Or if thou yet more knowledge crave, 
 Ask thine own heart, that willing slave 
 To all that works thee woe or harm: 
 Should'st thou not need some mighty charm 
 To win thee to thy Saviour's side, 
 Though He had deign'd with thee to bide? 
 The spirit must stir the darkling deep, 
 
 The Dove must settle on the Cross, 
 Else we should all sin on or sleep 
 
 With Christ in sight, turning our gain to loss. 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 ROGATION SUNDAY.* 
 
 And the Lord was very angry with Aaron to have destroyed hiin : 
 and 1 prayed for Aaron also the same time. Deut. ix. 20. 
 
 [O Lord, from whom all good things do come ; grant to us, thy humble 
 servants, that by thy holy inspiration we may think those things that 
 are good, and by thy merciful guiding may perform the same, through 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, ^mcn.j 
 
 NOW is there solemn pause in earth and heaven; 
 The Conqueror now 
 His bonds hath riven, 
 
 * [Rogation Sunday is that which next precedes Ascension Day. 
 The three intervening days. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, aie 
 called Rogation days, from a Latin word signifying to beseech, because 
 for those days extraordinary prayers were provided, especially for a 
 blessing on the fruits of the earth, and for exemption from war and 
 pestilence. 'Ihey retain their place in the calendar of the Church of 
 England.] 
 
136 Fifth Sunday after Easter. 
 
 And Angels wonder why he stays below: 
 Yet hath not man his lesson learn'd, 
 How endless love should be retnrn'd. 
 
 Deep is the silence as of summer noon,* 
 When a soft shower 
 Will trickle soon, 
 A gracious rain, freshening the weary bower — 
 O sweetly then far off is heard 
 The clear note of some lonely bird. 
 
 So let thy turtle-dove's sad call arise 
 In doubt and fear 
 Through darkening skies, 
 And pierce, O Lord, thy justly sealed ear, 
 Where on the house-top, f all night long, 
 She trills her widow'd, faltering song. 
 
 Teach her to know and love her hour of prayer, 
 And evermore, 
 As faith grows rare, 
 Unlock her heart, and offer all its store 
 In holier love and humbler vows, 
 As suits a lost returning spouse. 
 
 Not as at first,;}: but with intenser cry, 
 
 Upon the mount 
 
 She now must lie, 
 
 Till thy dear love to blot the sad account 
 
 Of her rebellious race be won, 
 
 Pitying the mother in the son. 
 
 * ["When the air is still, and the smoke ascends in tall columns 
 without blending much with the air, it is a sign of rain." Mudic's 
 Contemplation of Nature, p. 174.] 
 
 t Psalm cii. 7. 
 
 % Deut. ix. 23. I fell down before the Lord forty days and forty 
 nights, as I fell down at the first. 
 
Fifth Sunday after Easter. 137 
 
 But chiefly (for she knows thee anger'd worst 
 By holiest things 
 Profan'd and curst), 
 Chiefly for Aaron's seed she spreads her wings, 
 If but one leaf she may from Thee 
 Win of the reconciling tree. 
 
 For what shall heal, when holy water banes'? 
 Or who may guide 
 O'er desert plains 
 Thy lov'd yet sinful people wandering wide, 
 If Aaron's hand unshrinking mould* 
 An idol form of earthly gold] 
 
 Therefore her tears are bitter, and as deep 
 Her boding sigh, 
 As, while men sleep, 
 Sad hearted mothers heave, that wakeful lie, 
 To muse upon some darling child 
 Roaming in youth's uncertain wild. 
 
 Therefore on fearful dreams her inward sight 
 Is fain to dwell — 
 What lurid light 
 Shall the last darkness of the world dispel, 
 The Mediator in his wrath 
 Descending down the lightning's path. 
 
 Yet, yet awhile, offended Saviour, pause, 
 In act to breakj 
 Thine outrag'd laws, 
 O spare thy rebels for thine own dear sake; 
 Withdraw thine hand, nor dash to earth 
 The covenant of our second birth. 
 
 Exodus xxxii. 4. f Exodus xxxii. 19. 
 
 12* 
 
138 Fifth Sunday after Easter. 
 
 'Tis forfeit like the first — we own it all — 
 Yet for love's sake, 
 Let it not fall; 
 But at thy touch let veiled hearts awake, 
 That nearest to thine altar lie, 
 Yet least of holy things descry. 
 
 Teacher of teachers ! Priest of priests ! from Thee 
 The sweet strong prayer 
 Must rise, to free 
 First Levi, then all Israel, from the snare. 
 Thou art our Moses out of sight — 
 Speak for us, or we perish quite. 
 
 ASCENSION DAY.* 
 
 Why stand ye gazing up into Heaven? This same Jesus, which is 
 taken up from you into Heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye 
 have seen Him go into heaven. Acts i. 11. [Scripture appointed as the 
 Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 [Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as we do believe 
 thy only begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the 
 heavens; so we may also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with 
 him continually dwell, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the 
 Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.] 
 
 SOFT cloud, that while the breeze of May 
 Chants her glad matins in the leafy arch, 
 
 * [The fortieth day from Easter Sunday, which is always Thursday, 
 is celebrated in commemoration of the Ascension of our Lord into 
 heaven.] 
 
Ascension Day. 139 
 
 Draw'st thy bright veil across the heavenly way, 
 Meet pavement for an angel's glorious march:* 
 
 My soul is envious of mine eye. 
 That it should soar and glide with thee so fast, 
 
 The while my grovelling thoughts half buried lie, 
 Or lawless roam around : y waste. 
 
 " [clouds. 
 
 ' Cloud land ! Gorgeous land !*' 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 I cannot look above ami b 
 
 ;igh-pi!ed pillowy mass 
 Of evening clouds, so swimmingly, 
 
 In gold and purple pass. 
 And think not, Lord, how Thou wast seen 
 
 On Israels desert way 
 Before them, in thy shadowy screen, 
 
 Pavilioned all the day ! 
 
 Or. of those robes of gorgeous hue, 
 
 Which the Redeemer wore, 
 When ravished from his followers' view. 
 
 Aloft his flight he bore. 
 When lifted, as on mighty wing, 
 
 He curtained his ascent. 
 And wrapt in clouds, went triumphing 
 
 Above the firmament. 
 
 Is it a trail of that same pall 
 
 Of many coloured dies. 
 That high above, o'er-mantling all, 
 
 Hangs midway down the skies— 
 Or borders of those sweeping folds 
 
 Which shall be all unfurled 
 Ab -ut the Saviour, when he holds 
 
 His judgment on the world? 
 
 For in like manner as he went,— 
 
 My soul, hast thou f rgot ? 
 Shall be his terrible descent. 
 
 When man expectelh not! 
 Strength. Son of man. against that hour, 
 
 Be to our spirits given. 
 When thou shalt come again with power, 
 
 Upon the clouds of heaven ! 
 
 Rev. William Crosvcll] 
 
140 Ascension Day. 
 
 Chains of my heart, avaunt I say — 
 I will arise, and in the strength of love 
 
 Pursue the bright track ere it fade away, 
 My Saviour's pathway to his home above. 
 
 Sure, when I reach the point where earth 
 Melts into nothing from th' uncumber'd sight, 
 
 Heaven will o'ercome th' attraction of my birth, 
 And I shall sink in yonder sea of light:* 
 
 Till resting by th' incarnate Lord, 
 Once bleeding, now triumphant for my sake, 
 
 I mark him, how by seraph hosts ador'd 
 He to earth's lowest cares is still awake. 
 
 The sun and every vassal star, 
 All space beyond the soar of Angel wings, 
 
 Wait on his word: and yet he stays his car 
 For every sigh a contrite suppliant brings. 
 
 He listens to the silent tear 
 For all the anthems of the boundless skyf — 
 And shall our dreams of music bar our ear 
 To His soul-piercing voice for ever nigh 1 ? 
 
 Nay, gracious Saviour — but as now 
 Our thoughts have trac'd Thee to thy glory-throne, 
 
 So help us evermore with Thee to bow 
 Where human sorrow breathes her lowly moan. 
 
 We must not stand to gaze too long, 
 Though on unfolding Heaven our gaze we bend, 
 
 Where lost behind the bright angelic throng 
 We see Christ's entering triumph slow ascend. 
 
 * [There is a point in space where, the attraction of the earth being 
 overcome, a body reaching it would be carried out of the earth's orbit. 
 The existence of such a point, in reference to the soul, is here beauti- 
 fully suggested.] 
 
 t [ Notwithstanding " all the anthems of the boundless sky."] 
 
Ascension Day. 141 
 
 No fear but we shall soon behold, 
 Faster than now it fades, that gleam revive, 
 When issuing from his cloud of fiery gold 
 Our wasted frames feel the true sun, and live. 
 
 Then shall we see Thee as Thou art,* 
 For ever fix'd in no unfruitful gaze, 
 
 But such as lifts the new created heart, 
 Age after age, in worthier love and praise. 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION 
 
 As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one 
 to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. 1 St. 
 Peter iv. 10. [Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 [O God, the king of glory, who hast exalted thine only Son Jesus 
 Christ with great triumph unto thy kingdom in heaven; we beseech 
 thee leave us not comfortless; but send to us thine Holy Ghost to 
 comfort us, and exalt us unto the same place whither our Saviour 
 Christ is gone before ; who livetii and reigneth with thee and the Holy 
 Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.'\ 
 
 THE Earth that in her genial breast 
 Makes for the down a kindly nest, 
 Where wafted by the warm south-west 
 
 It floats at pleasure, 
 Yields, thankful, of her very best, 
 
 To nurse her treasure: 
 
 True to her trust, tree, herb, or reed, 
 She renders for each scatter'd seed, 
 
 * ["When he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see 
 him as he is." 1 John iii. 2] 
 
1 42 Sunday after Ascension. 
 
 And to her Lord with duteous heed 
 
 Gives large increase: 
 Thus year by year she works unfeed, 
 
 And will not cease. 
 
 Woe worth these barren hearts of ours, 
 Where Thou hast set celestial flowers, 
 And water'd with more balmy showers, 
 
 Than e'er distill'd 
 In Eden, on th' ambrosial bowers — 
 
 Yet nought we yield. 
 
 Largely Thou givest, gracious Lord, 
 Largely thy gifts should be restor'd; 
 Freely Thou givest, and thy word 
 
 Is, "freely give,"* 
 He only, who forgets to hoard, 
 
 Has learn'd to live. 
 
 Wisely Thou givest — all around 
 Thine equal rays are resting found, 
 Yet varying so on various ground 
 
 They pierce and strike, 
 That not two roseate cups are crown'd 
 
 With dew alike: 
 
 Even so, in silence, likest Thee, 
 Steals on soft-handed Charity, 
 Tempering her gifts, that seem so free, 
 
 By time and place, 
 Till not a woe the bleak world see, 
 
 But finds her grace: 
 
 Eyes to the blind, and to the lame 
 Feet, and to sinners wholesome blame, 
 
 * St. Matt. x. 8. 
 
{Sunday after Ascension. 143 
 
 To starving bodies food and flame 
 
 By turns she brings, 
 To humbled souls, that sink for shame, 
 
 Lends heaven-ward wings: 
 
 Leads them the way our Saviour went, 
 And shows Love's treasure yet unspent; 
 As when th' unclouded heavens were rent 
 
 Opening his road, 
 Nor yet his Holy Spirit sent 
 
 To our abode. 
 
 Ten days th' eternal doors display'd* 
 Were wondering (so th' Almighty bade) 
 Whom Love enthron'd would send, in aid 
 
 Of souls that mourn, 
 Left orphans in Earth's dreary shade 
 
 As soon as born. 
 
 Open they stand, that prayers in throngs 
 May rise on high, and holy songs, 
 Such incense as of right belongs 
 
 To the true shrine, 
 Where stands the Healer of all wrongs 
 
 In light divine; 
 
 The golden censer in his hand, 
 He offers hearts from every land, 
 Tied to his own by gentlest band 
 
 Of silent Love: 
 About Him winged blessings stand 
 
 In act to move. 
 
 A little while, and they shall fleet 
 From Heaven to Earth, attendants meet 
 
 * |"Ten days intervened between the ascension of the Saviour, and 
 the descent of the Comforter.! 
 
144 Sunday after Ascension* 
 
 On the life-giving- Paraclete 
 
 Speeding his flight, 
 With all that sacred is and sweet, 
 
 On saints to light. 
 
 Apostles, Prophets, Pastors, all 
 Shall feel the shower of Mercy fall, 
 And starting at th' Almighty's call, 
 
 Give what He gave, 
 Till their high deeds the world appal, 
 
 And sinners save. 
 
 WHITSUNDAY.* 
 
 And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing 
 mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting: and 
 there appeared unto them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it sal 
 upon each of them: and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost. 
 Jlcts ii. 2, 3. [Scripture for the Epistle.] 
 
 [O God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of thy faithful 
 people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit; grant us by 
 the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore 
 to rejoice in his holy comfort, through the merits of Christ Jesus our 
 Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same 
 Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.] 
 
 WHEN God of old came down from Heaven, 
 
 In power and wrath He came; 
 Before his feet the clouds were riven, 
 
 Half darkness and half flame: 
 
 * [This festival is designed to commemorate the descent of the Holy 
 Ghost on the Apostles in the shape of cloven fiery tongues. It took 
 place on the Jewish feast of Pentecost, the anniversary of the giving 
 of the law at Mount Sinai. The practice in the primitive Church of 
 receiving catechumens generally to baptism on this day, clad in white 
 robes, probably gave occasion to its name of ichitc, or, by contraction . 
 r r/«tsunday.j 
 
Wliitsvnday. 145 
 
 Around the trembling mountain's base 
 
 The prostrate people lay; 
 A day of wrath, and not of grace; 
 
 A dim and dreadful day. 
 
 But when he came the second time, 
 
 He came in power and love, 
 Softer than gale at morning prime 
 
 Hover'd his holy Dove. 
 
 The fires that rush'd on Sinai down 
 
 In sudden torrents dread, 
 Now gently light, a glorious crown, 
 
 On every sainted head. 
 
 Like arrows went those lightnings forth 
 
 "Wing'd with the sinner's doom, 
 But these, like tongues, o'er all the earth 
 
 Proclaiming life to come: 
 
 And as on Israel's awe-struck ear 
 
 The voice exceeding loud, 
 The trump, that angels quake to hear, 
 
 Thrill'd from the deep, dark cloud, 
 
 So, when the Spirit of our God 
 
 Came down his flock to find, 
 A voice from heaven was heard abroad, 
 
 A rushing, mighty wind. 
 
 Nor doth the outward ear alone 
 
 At that high warning start; 
 Conscience gives back th' appalling tone; 
 
 'Tis echoed in the heart. 
 
 It fills the Church of God; it fills 
 
 . The sinful world around; 
 Only in stubborn hearts and wills 
 No place for it is found. 
 13 
 
146 Whitsunday. 
 
 To other strains our souls are set: 
 
 A giddy whirl of sin 
 Fills ear and brain, and will not let 
 
 Heaven's harmonies come in. 
 
 Come Lord, come Wisdom, Love, and Power, 
 
 Open our ears to hear; 
 Let us not miss th' accepted hour; 
 
 Save, Lord, by Love or Fear. 
 
 MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEER. 
 
 THE CITY OF CONFUSION. 
 
 So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all 
 the earth: and they left off to build the city. Genesis xi. 8. [First 
 Morning Lesson.'] 
 
 [O God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of thy faithful 
 people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit; grant as by 
 the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore 
 to rejoice in his holy comfort, through the merits of Christ Jesus our 
 Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee, iu the unity of the same 
 Spirit, one God, world without end. jQmen.} 
 
 SINCE all that is not heav'n must fade, 
 Light be the hand of Ruin laid 
 
 Upon the home I love: 
 With lulling spell let soft Decay 
 Steal on, and spare the giant sway, 
 
 The crash of tower and grove. 
 
 Far opening down some woodland deep 
 In their own quiet glade should sleep 
 The relics dear to thought, 
 
 
Monday in Whitsun-Week. 147 
 
 And wild-flower wreaths from side to side 
 Their waving tracery hang, to hide 
 What ruthless Time has wrought. 
 
 Such are the visions green and sweet 
 That o'er the wistful fancy fleet 
 
 In Asia's sea like plain, 
 Where slowly, round his isles of sand, 
 Euphrates through the lonely land 
 
 Winds toward the pearly main. 
 
 Slumber is there, but not of rest; 
 There her forlorn and weary nest 
 
 The fami9h'd hawk has found, 
 The wild dog howls at fall of night, 
 The serpent's rustling coils affright 
 
 The traveller on his round. 
 
 What shapeless form, half lost on high,* 
 Half seen against the evening sky, 
 
 Seems like a ghost to glide, 
 And watch, from Babel's crumbling heap, 
 Where in her shadow, fast asleep, 
 
 Lies fall'n imperial Pride? 
 
 With half-closed eye a lion there 
 Is basking in his noontide lair, 
 
 Or prowls in twilight gloom. 
 The golden city's king he seems, 
 Such as in old prophetic dreams]" 
 
 Sprang from rough ocean's womb. 
 
 * See Pir It. K. Porter's Travel?, ii. 387. " In my second visit to 
 Birs Nimrood, my party suddenly halted, having descried several dark 
 objects moving along the summit of its hill, which they construed into 
 dismounted Arabs on the look out: I took out my glass to examine, 
 and soon distinguished that the causes of our alarm were two or three 
 majestic lions, taking the air upon the heights of the pyramid." 
 
 t Daniel vii. 4. 
 
148 Monday in Whitsun-WeeJc. 
 
 But where are now his eagle wings, 
 That shelter'd erst a thousand kings, 
 
 Hiding the glorious sky 
 From half the nations, till they own 
 No holier name, no mightier throne'? 
 
 That vision is gone by. 
 
 Quench'd is the golden statue's ray,* 
 The breath of heaven has blown away 
 
 What toiling earth had pil'd, 
 Scattering wise heart and crafty hand, 
 As breezes strew on ocean's sand 
 
 The fabrics of a child. 
 
 Divided thence through every age 
 Thy rebels, Lord, their warfare wage, 
 
 And hoarse and jarring all 
 Mount up their heaven assailing cries 
 To thy bright watchmen in the skies 
 
 From Babel's shatter'd wall. 
 
 Thrice only since, with blended mightj- 
 The nations on that haughty height 
 
 Have met to scale the heaven: 
 Thrice only might a Seraph's look 
 A moment's shade of sadness brook — 
 
 Such power to guilt was given. 
 
 Now the fierce Bear and Leopard keen}: 
 Are perish'd as they ne'er had been, 
 Oblivion is their home: 
 
 * Daniel ii. and iii. 
 
 t [The allusions throughout this piece are to the four universal 
 empires predicted in the book of Daniel, and to the establishment of 
 Christ's promised spiritual kingdom on the ruins of them all. The 
 sentiment of the last three lines is truly sublime. J 
 
 1 Daniel vii. 5, G. 
 
Monday in Whit sun- Week. 149 
 
 Ambition's boldest dream and last 
 Must melt before the clarion blast 
 That sounds the dirge of Rome. 
 
 Heroes and Kings, obey the charm, 
 Withdraw the proud high-reaching arm, 
 
 There is an oath on high, 
 That ne'er on brow of mortal birth 
 Shall blend again the crowns of earth, 
 
 Nor in according cry 
 
 Her many voices mingling own 
 One tyrant Lord, one idol throne: 
 
 But to His triumph soon 
 He shall descend, who rules above, 
 And the pure language of His love* 
 
 All tongues of men shall tune. 
 
 Nor let Ambition heartless mourn; 
 When Babel's very ruins burn, 
 
 Her high desires may breathe; — 
 Overcome thyself, and thou may'st share 
 With Christ his Father's throne, f and wear 
 
 The world's imperial wreath. 
 
 * Zephania iii. 9. " Then will I turn to the people a pure language, 
 that they may all call upon the name of the Lord, to serve him with 
 one consent." 
 
 t Revelations iii. 21. "To him that overcometh will I grant to sit 
 with me in my throne." 
 
 13* 
 
150 
 
 TUESDAY IN WHITSUN- WEEK . 
 
 HOLY ORDERS. 
 
 When He putteth forth his own sheep, He goeth before them. St. 
 John, x. 4. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [O God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of thy faithful 
 people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit; grant us by the 
 same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to 
 rejoice in his holy comfort, through the merits of Jesus Christ our 
 Saviour, who livelh and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same 
 Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.] 
 
 {Addressed to Candidates for Ordination.) 
 
 " LORD, in thy field I work all day, 
 "I read, I teach, I warn, I pray, 
 "And yet these wilful wandering sheep 
 " Within thy fold I cannot keep. 
 
 " I journey, yet no step is won — 
 "Alas! the weary course I run! 
 " Like sailors shipwreck'd in their dreams, 
 "All powerless and benighted seems." 
 
 What! wearied out with half a life? 
 Scar'd with this smooth unbloody strife! 
 Think where thy coward hopes had flown 
 Had Heaven held out the martyr's crown. 
 
Tuesday in Whitsitn-Weelc. 151 
 
 How could'st thou hang upon the cross, 
 To whom a weary hour is loss] 
 Or how the thorns and scourging brook, 
 Who shrinkest from a scornful look! 
 
 Yet ere thy craven spirit faints, 
 Hear thine own King, the King of saints; 
 Though thou wert toiling in the grave, 
 'Tis He can cheer thee, He can save. 
 
 He is th' eternal mirror bright, 
 Where angels view the Father's light, 
 And yet in Him the simplest swain 
 May read his homely lesson plain. 
 
 Early to quit his home on earth, ' 
 And claim his high celestial birth, 
 Alone with his true Father found* 
 Within the temple's solemn round: — 
 
 Yet in meek duty to abide 
 
 For many a year at Mary's side,f 
 
 Nor heed, though restless spirits ask, 
 
 " What 1 ? hath the Christ forgot his task]"— 
 
 Conscious of Deity within, 
 
 To bow before an heir of sin, 
 
 With folded arms on humble breast, 
 
 By his own servant wash'd and blest:^: — 
 
 Then full of Heaven, the mystic Dove 
 Hovering his gracious brow above, 
 
 * [" Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business ?"] 
 
 t [" And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was 
 
 subject unto them: but his mother kept all these sayings in her 
 
 heart."] 
 J [John the Baptist, by whom Jesus was baptized.] 
 
152 Tuesday in Whit sun -Week. 
 
 To shun the voice and eye of praise, 
 And in the wild his trophies raise:* — 
 
 With hymns of angels in his ears, 
 Back to his task of woe and tears, 
 Unmurmuring' through the world to roam 
 With not a wish or thought at home: — 
 
 All but himself to heal and save. 
 Till ripen'd for the cross and grave 
 He to His Father gently yield 
 The breath that our redemption seal'd: — 
 
 Then to unearthly life arise, 
 Yet not at once to seek the skies, 
 But glide awhile from saint to saint, 
 Lest on our lonely way we faint; 
 
 And through the cloud by glimpses show 
 How bright, in Heaven, the marks will glow 
 Of the true cross, imprinted deep 
 Both on the Shepherd and the sheep: — 
 
 When out of sight, in heart and prayer 
 Thy chosen people still to bear, 
 And from behind thy glorious veil, 
 Shed light that cannot change or fail: — 
 
 This is thy pastoral course, O Lord, 
 Till we be sav'd, and Thou ador'd; — 
 Thy course and ours— but who are they 
 Who follow on the narrow way] 
 
 And yet of Thee from year to year 
 The Church's solemn chant we hear, 
 
 * [From his baptism, Jesus went up into the wilderness, where he 
 was tempted.] 
 
Tuesday in Wliitsun-Week. 153 
 
 As from thy cradle to thy throne 
 
 She swells her high heart-cheering tone. 
 
 Listen, ye pure white-robed souls, 
 Whom in her list she now enrols, 
 And gird ye for your high emprize 
 By these her thrilling minstrelsies. 
 
 And wheresoe'er, in earth's wide field, 
 Ye lift, for Him, the red-cross shield, 
 Be this your song, your joy and pride — 
 " Our Champion went before and died." 
 
 TRINITY SUNDAY.* 
 
 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye 
 believe if I tell you of heavenly things? St. John iii. 12. 
 
 [Almighty and everlasti ng God, who hast given unto us, thy servants, 
 grace, by the confession of a true faith, to acknowledge the glory of 
 the eternalTrinity, and in the power of the divine Majesty to worship 
 the Unity, we beseech thee that thou wouldst keep us steadfast in 
 this faith, and evermore defend us from all adversities, who livest and 
 reignest, one God, world without end. Jlm.en.~\ 
 
 CREATOR, Saviour, strengthening Guide, 
 Now on Thy mercy's ocean wide 
 Far out of sight we seem to glide. 
 
 Help us, each hour, with steadier eye 
 To search the deepening mystery, 
 The wonders of Thy sea and sky. 
 
 * [The festival which commemorates the mysterious doctrine of the 
 Trinity in Unity] 
 
154 Trinity Sunday. 
 
 The blessed angels look and long 
 To praise Thee with a worthier song, 
 And yet our silence does Thee wrong. 
 
 Along the Church's central space 
 The sacred weeks with unfelt pace 
 Have borne us on from grace to grace. 
 
 As travellers on some woodland height, 
 When wintry suns are gleaming bright, 
 Lose in arch'd glades their tangled sight; — 
 
 By glimpses such as dreamers love 
 Through her gray veil the leafless grove 
 Shows where the distant shadows rove; — 
 
 Such trembling joy the soul o'er-awes 
 As nearer to thy shrine she draws: — 
 And now before the choir we pause. 
 
 The door is clos'd — but soft and deep 
 Around the awful arches sweep 
 Such airs as soothe a hermit's sleep. 
 
 From each carv'd nook and fretted bend 
 
 Cornice and gallery seem to send 
 
 Tones that with seraph hymns might blend. 
 
 Three solemn parts together twine 
 
 In harmony's mysterious line; 
 
 Three solemn aisles approach the shrine: 
 
 Yet all are One — together all, 
 
 In thoughts that awe but not appal, 
 
 Teach the adoring heart to fall. 
 
 Within these walls each fluttering guest 
 Is gently lur'd to one safe nest — 
 Without, 'tis moaning and unrest. 
 
Trinity Sunday. 155 
 
 The busy world a thousand ways 
 
 Is hurrying by, nor ever stays 
 
 To catch a note of Thy dear praise. 
 
 Why tarries not her chariot wheel, 
 
 That o'er her with no vain appeal 
 
 One gust of heavenly song might steal? 
 
 Alas! for her Thy opening flowers 
 Unheeded breathe to summer showers, 
 Unheard the music of Thy bowers. 
 
 What echoes from the sacred dome 
 The selfish spirit may o'ercome 
 That will not hear of love or home? 
 
 The heart that scorn'd a father's care, 
 How can it rise in filial prayer? 
 How an all-seeing Guardian bear? 
 
 Or how shall envious brethren own 
 A Brother on th' eternal throne, 
 Their Father's joy, their hope alone? 
 
 How shall thy Spirit's gracious wile 
 The sullen brow of gloom beguile, 
 That frowns on sweet affection's smile? 
 
 Eternal One, Almighty Trine ! 
 
 (Since thou art ours, and we are Thine) 
 
 By all thy love did once resign, 
 
 By all the grace thy heavens still hide, 
 We pray thee, keep us at thy side, 
 Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide ! 
 
156 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY 
 
 ISRAEL AMONG THE RUINS OF CANAAN. 
 
 So Joshua smote all the country, and all their kings; he left none 
 remaining. Joshua x. 40. [First Morning Lesson.] 
 
 [O God, the strength of all those who put their trust in thee, merci- 
 fully accept our prayers; and because, through the weakness of our 
 mortal nature, we can do no good thing without thee, grant us the 
 help of thy grace, that in keeping thy commandments we may please 
 thee, both in will and deed, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen^ 
 
 WHERE is the land with milk and honey flowing 1 , 
 
 The promise of our God, our fancy's theme 1 ? 
 Here over shatter'd walls dank weeds are growing-, 
 And blood and fire have run in mingled stream; 
 Like oaks and cedars all around 
 The giant corses strew the ground, 
 And haughty Jericho's cloud-piercing wall 
 Lies where it sank at, Joshua's trumpet call. 
 
 These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even, 
 For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades, 
 Soft slumbers in the open eye of heaven, 
 And all the listless joy of summer shades. 
 We in the midst of ruins live, 
 Which every hour dread warning give, 
 Nor may our household vine or fig-tree hide 
 The broken arches of old Canaan's pride. 
 
First Sunday after Trinity. 157 
 
 Where is the sweet repose of hearts repenting, 
 The deep cairn sky, the sunshine of the soul, 
 Now heaven and earth are to our bliss consenting-, 
 And all the Godhead joins to make us whole? 
 The triple crown of mercy now 
 Is ready for the suppliant's brow, 
 By the Almighty Three for aver plann'd, 
 And from behind the cloud held out by Jesus' hand. 
 
 "Now, Christians, hold your own — the land before ye 
 
 " Is open — win your way, and take your rest." 
 So sounds our war-note; but our path of glory 
 By many a cloud is darken'd and unblest: 
 And daily as we downward glide, 
 Life's ebbing stream on either side 
 Shows at each turn some mouldering hope or joy, 
 The Man seems following still the funeral of the Boy. 
 
 Open our eyes, thou Sun of life and gladness, 
 
 That we may see that glorious world of thine ! 
 It shines for us in vain, while drooping sadness 
 Enfolds us here like mist: come, Power benign, 
 Touch our chill'd hearts with vernal smile, 
 Our wintry course do Thou beguile, 
 Nor by the wayside ruins let us mourn, 
 Who have th' eternal towers for our appointed bourne. 
 
 14 
 
158 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 CHARITY THE LIFE OF FAITH. 
 
 Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We know that we 
 have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. 1 St. 
 John iii. 13, 14. [Epistle for the Dcnj.] 
 
 [O'Lord, who never faiTest to help and govern those whom thou dost 
 bring up in thy steadfast fear and love; keep us, we beseech thee, 
 under the protection of thy good providence, and make us to have a 
 perpetual fear and love of thy holy name, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. Amen.} 
 
 THE clouds that wrap the setting- sun 
 
 When Autumn's softest gleams are ending - , 
 
 Where all bright hues together run 
 In sweet confusion blending: — 
 
 Why, as we watch their floating wreath, 
 
 Seem they the breath of life to breathe] 
 
 To Fancy's eye their motions prove 
 
 They mantle round the Sun for love. 
 
 When up some woodland dale we catch 
 
 The many twinkling smile* of ocean, 
 Or with pleas'd ear bewilder'd watch 
 
 His chime of restless motion; 
 Still as the surging waves retire 
 They seem to gasp with strong desire, 
 
 TTOVTKWV TS KVfXcnOOV 
 
 aviigifyxov y&ao-fxa. iEschyl. Prom. 89. 
 
Second Sunday after Trinity. 159 
 
 Such signs of love old Ocean gives, 
 We cannot choose but think he lives. 
 
 VVould'st thou the life of souls discern? 
 
 Nor human wisdom nor divine 
 Helps thee by aught beside to learn: 
 
 Love is life's only sign. 
 The spring of the regenerate heart, 
 The pulse, the glow of every part, 
 Is the true love of Christ our Lord, 
 As man embrac'd, as God ador'd. 
 
 But he, whose heart will bound to mark 
 The full bright burst of summer morn, 
 
 Loves too each little dewy spark 
 By leaf or flow'ret worn: 
 
 Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis true, 
 
 Through the bright shower-drop meet his view; 
 
 The colouring may be of this earth; 
 
 The lustre comes of heavenly birth. 
 
 Even so, who loves the Lord aright, 
 
 No soul of man can worthless find; 
 All will be precious in his sight, 
 
 Since Christ on all hath shin'd: 
 But chiefly Christian souls; for they, 
 Though worn and soil'd with sinful clay, 
 Are yet, to eyes that see them true, 
 All glistening with baptismal dew. 
 
 Then marvel not, if such as bask 
 
 In purest light of innocence, 
 Hope against hope, in love's dear task, 
 
 Spite of all dark offence. 
 If they who hate the trespass most, 
 Yet, when all other love is lost, 
 Love the poor sinner, marvel not; 
 Christ's mark outwears the rankest blot. 
 
160 Second Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 No distance breaks the tie of blood; 
 
 Brothers are brothers evermore; 
 Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, 
 
 That magic may o'erpower; 
 Oft, ere the common source be known; 
 The kindred drops will claim their own, 
 And throbbing pulses silently 
 Move heart towards heart by sympathy. 
 
 So is it with true Christian hearts; 
 
 Their mutual share in Jesus' blood 
 An everlasting bond imparts 
 
 Of holiest brotherhood: 
 Oh ! might we all our lineage prove, 
 Give and forgive, do good and love, 
 By soft endearments in kind strife 
 Lightening the load of daily life ! 
 
 There is much need: for not as yet 
 
 Are we in shelter or repose, 
 The holy house is still beset 
 
 With leaguer of stern foes; 
 Wild thoughts within, bad men without, 
 All evil spirits round about, 
 Are branded in unblest device, 
 To spoil Love's earthly paradise. 
 
 Then draw we nearer day by day, 
 
 Each to his brethren, all to God; 
 Let the world take us as she may, 
 
 We must not change our road; 
 Not wondering, though in grief, to find 
 The martyr's foe still keep her mind; 
 But fix'd to hold Love's banner fast, 
 And by submission win at last. 
 
161 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 COMFORT FOR SINNERS IN THE PRESENCE OF 
 THE GOOD. 
 
 There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner 
 that repentelh. St. Luke xv. 10. [Gospeffor the Day.] 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee mercifully to hear us; and grant that we, 
 to whom thou hast given a hearty desire to pray, may, by thy mighty 
 aid, b-- defended and comforted in all dangers and adversities, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 O HATEFUL spell of Sin! when friends are nigh, 
 To make stem Memory tell her tale unsought, 
 
 And raise accusing shades of hours gone by, 
 To come between us and all kindly thought! 
 
 Chiil'd at her touch, the self-reproaching soul 
 Flies from the heart and home she dearest loves 
 
 To where lone mountains tower, or billows roll, 
 Or to your endless depth, ye solemn groves. 
 
 In vain: the averted cheek in loneliest dell 
 
 Is conscious of a gaze it cannot bear, 
 The leaves that rustle near us seem to tell 
 
 Our heart's sad secret to the silent air. 
 
 Nor is the dream untrue: for all around 
 
 The heavens are watching with their thousand eyes, 
 We cannot pass our guardian angel's bound, 
 
 Resign'd or sullen, he will hear our sighs. 
 14* 
 
162 Third Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 He in the mazes of the budding- wood 
 
 Is near, and mourns to see our thankless glance 
 
 Dwell coldly, where the fresh green earth is strew'd 
 With the first flowers that lead the vernal dance. 
 
 In wasteful bounty shower'd, they smile unseen, 
 Unseen by man — but what if purer sprights 
 
 By moonlight o'er their dewy bosoms lean 
 T' adore the Father of all gentle lights] 
 
 If such there be, O grief and shame to think 
 That sight of thee should overcloud their joy, 
 
 A newborn soul, just waiting on the brink 
 Of endless life, yet wrapt in earth's annoy! 
 
 O turn, and be thou turn'd! the selfish tear, 
 In bitter thoughts of low born care begun, 
 
 Let it flow on, but flow refin'd and clear, 
 The turbid waters brightening as they run. 
 
 Let it flow on, till all thine earthly heart 
 In penitential drops have ebb'd away, 
 
 Then fearless turn where Heaven hath set thy part, 
 Nor shudder at the eye that saw thee stray. 
 
 O lost and found! all gentle souls below 
 
 Their dearest welcome shall prepare, and prove 
 
 Such joy o'er thee, as raptur'd seraphs know, 
 Who learn their lesson at the Throne of Love. 
 
163 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE GROAXS OF NATURE. 
 
 For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifes- 
 tation of the sons of God: for the creature was made subject to vanity, 
 not willingly, but by reason of him who halh subjected the same in 
 hope; because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the 
 bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God: 
 for we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain 
 together until now. Rom. viii. 19— J2. [Epistle for the Day J 
 
 [O God, the protector of all that trust in thee, without whom nothing 
 is strong, nothing is holy; increase and multiply upon us thy mercy; 
 that thou being our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things 
 temporal, that we finally lose not the things eternal: grant this, O 
 heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ's sake our Lord. Amen ] 
 
 IT was not then a poet's dream, 
 
 An idle vaunt of song, 
 Such as beneath the moon's soft gleam 
 
 On vacant fancies throng; 
 
 Which bids us see in heaven and earth, 
 
 In all fair things around, 
 Strong yearnings for a blest new birth 
 
 With sinless glories crown'd; 
 
 . Which bids us hear, at each sweet pause 
 
 From care and want and toil, 
 When dewy eve her curtain draws 
 Over the day's turmoil, 
 
164 Fourth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 In the low chant of wakeful birds, 
 In the deep weltering flood, 
 
 In whispering leaves, these solemn words- 
 " God made us all for good." 
 
 All true, all faultless, all in tune, 
 Creation's wondrous choir 
 
 Open'd in mystic unison 
 To last till time expire. 
 
 And still it lasts: by day and night, 
 With one consenting voice, 
 
 All hymn thy glory, Lord, aright, 
 All worship and rejoice. 
 
 Man only mars the sweet accord, 
 
 O'erpowering with " harsh dm 
 The music of thy works and word, 
 111 match'd with grief and sin. 
 
 Sin is with man at morning break, 
 And through the live-long day 
 
 Deafens the ear that fain would wake 
 To Nature's simple lay. 
 
 But when eve's silent foot-fall steals 
 
 Along the eastern sky, 
 And one by one to earth reveals 
 
 Those purer fires on high, 
 
 When one by one each human sound 
 
 Dies on the awful ear, 
 Then Nature's voice no more is drown d, 
 
 She speaks and we must hear. 
 
 Then pours she on the Christian heart 
 That warning still and deep, 
 
 At which high spirits of old would start 
 Even from their Pagan sleep, 
 
Fourth Sunday after Trinity, 165 
 
 Just guessing, through their murky blind, 
 
 Few, faint, and baffling' sight, 
 Streaks of a brighter heaven behind 
 
 A cloudless depth of light. 
 
 Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise, 
 
 Through many a dreary age, 
 Upbore whate'er of good and wise 
 
 Yet lived in bard or sage: 
 
 They mark'd what agonizing throes 
 
 Shook the great mother's womb; 
 But Reason's spells might not disclose 
 
 The gracious birth to come; 
 
 Nor could th' enchantress Hope forecast 
 
 God's secret love and power: 
 The travail pangs of Earth must last 
 
 Till her appointed hour; 
 
 The hour that saw from opening heaven 
 
 Redeeming glory stream, 
 Beyond the summer hues of even, 
 
 Beyond the mid-day beam. 
 
 Thenceforth, to eyes of high desire, 
 
 The meanest things below, 
 As with a seraph's robe of fire 
 
 Invested, burn and glow: 
 
 The rod of heaven has touch'd them all, 
 The word from heaven is spoken; 
 
 "Rise, shine, and sing, thou captive thrall; 
 " Are not thy fetters broken] 
 
 "The God who hallow'd thee and blest, 
 
 " Pronouncing thee all good — 
 " Hath He not all thy wrongs redrest, 
 
 " And all thy bliss renew'd! 
 
166 Fourth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 " Why moura'st thou still as one bereft, 
 " Now that th' eternal Son, 
 
 " His blessed home in heaven hath left 
 "To make thee all his own]" 
 
 Thou mourn'st because Sin lingers still 
 In Christ's new heaven and earth; 
 
 Because oar rebel works and will 
 Stain our immortal birth: 
 
 Because, as Love and Prayer grow cold, 
 The Saviour hides his face, 
 
 And worldlings blot the temple's gold 
 With uses vile and base. 
 
 Hence all thy groans and travail pains, 
 
 Hence, till thy God return, 
 In wisdom's ear thy blithest strains, 
 
67 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY 
 
 THE FISHERMEN OF BETHSAIDA. 
 
 And Simon answering said unto Him, Master, we have toiled all the 
 night, and have taken nothing: nevertheless, at thy word I will let 
 down the net: and when they had this done, they inclosed a great 
 multitude of fishes, and their net brake. St. Luke v. 5. [Gospel for 
 the Day.] 
 
 [Grant, O Lord, we beseech thee, that the course of this world may 
 he so peaceably ordered by thy governance, that thy Church may joy- 
 fully serve thee in all godly quietness, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen.'] 
 
 "THE livelong night we've toiled in vain, 
 
 " But at thy gracious word 
 " I will let down the net again: — 
 
 " Do thou thy will, O Lord !" 
 
 So spake the weary fisher, spent 
 
 With bootless darkling toil, 
 Yet on his Master's bidding bent 
 
 For love and not for spoil. 
 
 So day by day and week by week, 
 
 In sad and weary thought, 
 They muse, whom God hath set to seek 
 
 The souls his Christ hath bought. 
 
 For not upon a tranquil lake 
 Our pleasant task we ply, 
 
168 Fifth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Where all along our glistening wake 
 The softest moonbeams lie; 
 
 Where rippling wave and dashing oar 
 Our midnight chant attend, 
 
 Or whispering palm-leaves from the shore 
 With midnight silence blend. 
 
 Sweet thoughts of peace, ye may not last: 
 Too soon some ruder sound 
 
 Calls us from where ye soar so fast 
 Back to our earthly round. 
 
 For wildest storms our ocean sweep: — 
 
 No anchor but the Cross 
 Might hold: and oft the thankless deep 
 
 Turns all our toil to loss. 
 
 Full many a dreary anxious hour 
 
 We watch our nets alone 
 In drenching spray, and driving shower, 
 
 And hear the night-bird's moan: 
 
 At morn we look, and nought is there; 
 
 Sad dawn of cheerless day ! 
 Who then from pining and despair 
 
 The sickening heart can stay? 
 
 There is a stay — and we are strong; 
 
 Our Master is at hand, 
 To cheer our solitary song, 
 
 And guide us to the strand, 
 
 In his own time: but yet awhile 
 Our bark at sea must ride: 
 
 Cast after cast, by force or guile 
 All waters must be tried: 
 
Fifth Svnday after Trinity. 169 
 
 By blameless guile or gentle force, 
 
 As when He deign'd to teach 
 (The lode-star of our Christian course) 
 
 Upon this sacred beach. 
 
 Should e'er thy wonder-working grace 
 
 Triumph by our weak arm, 
 Let not our sinful fancy trace 
 
 Aught human in the charm: 
 
 To our own nets* ne'er bow we down, 
 
 Lest on the eternal shore 
 The angels, while our draught they own,f 
 
 Reject us evermore: 
 
 Or, if for our unworlhiness 
 
 Toil, prayer, and watching fail, 
 In disappointment thou canst bless, 
 
 So love at heart prevail. 
 
 + Ilabakkuk i. 16. They sacrifice unto their net, and burn incense 
 unto their drag, 
 t St. Matthew xiii. 49. 
 
 15 
 
170 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE PSALMIST REPENTING. 
 
 David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against the Lord: and Nathan 
 said unto David, The Lord also hath put away thy sin : thou shalt not 
 die. 2 Samuel xii. 13. [First Morning Lesson, Church of England.'] 
 
 [O God, who hast prepared for those who love thee, such good things 
 as pass man's understanding; pour into our hearts such love towards 
 thee, that we, loving thee ahove all things, may obtain thy promises, 
 which exceed all that we can desire, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen] 
 
 WHEN bitter thoughts, of conscience born, 
 With sinners wake at morn, 
 
 When from our restless couch we start, 
 
 With fever'd lips and wither'd heart, 
 Where is the spell to charm those mists away, 
 And make new morning in that darksome day? 
 
 One draught of spring's delicious air, 
 
 One steadfast thought, that God is there. 
 
 These are thy wonders, hourly wrought,* 
 Thou Lord of time and thought, 
 
 * [How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean 
 
 Are thy returns ! even as the flowers in spring; 
 To which besides their own demean, 
 The late past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. 
 Grief melts away 
 Like show in May, 
 As if there were no such cold thing. 
 
Sixth Sunday after Trinity. 171 
 
 Lifting and lowering souls at will, 
 Crowding a world of good or ill 
 Into a moment's vision: even as light 
 Mounts o'er a cloudy ridge, and all is bright, 
 From west to east one thrilling ray- 
 Turning a wintry world to May. 
 
 Wouldst thou the pangs of guilt assuage? 
 Lo here an open page, 
 
 Where heavenly mercy shines as free, 
 
 Written in balm, sad heart, for thee. 
 Never so fast, in silent April shower, 
 Flush'd into green the dry and leafless bower,* 
 
 As Israel's crowned mourner felt 
 
 The dull hard stone within him melt. 
 
 The absolver saw the mighty grief, 
 
 And hasten'd wilh relief; — 
 "The Lord forgives; thou shalt not die:" — 
 'Twas gently spoke, yet heard on high, 
 And all the band of angels, us'd to sing 
 In heaven, accordant to his raptur'd string, 
 
 Who would have thought my shrivelled heart 
 
 Could have recovered greenness? It was gone 
 Quite under ground, as flowers depart 
 To see their mother-root, when they have flown; 
 Where they together 
 All the hard weather 
 Dead to the world, keep house unknown. 
 
 These are thy wonders, Lord of power, 
 
 Killing and quickening, bringing down to hell 
 And up to heaven in an hour, 
 Making a chiming of a passing bell. 
 We say amiss, 
 This or that is— 
 Thy word is all, if we could spell. 
 
 Herbert's Poems (1641), p. 160 ] 
 
 * And all this leafless and uncolour'd scene 
 Shall flush into variety again. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
172 Sixth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Who many a month had turn'd away 
 With veiled eyes, nor own'd his lay, 
 
 Now spread their wings, and throng around 
 To the glad mournful sound, 
 
 And welcome, with bright open face, 
 
 The broken heart to love's embrace.* 
 The rock is smitten, and to future years 
 Springs ever fresh the tide of holy tearsf 
 
 And holy music, whispering peace 
 
 Till time and sin together cease. 
 
 There drink: and when ye are at rest, 
 With that free Spirit blest,£ 
 
 Who to the contrite can dispense 
 
 The princely heart of innocence, 
 If ever, floating from faint earthly lyre, 
 Was wafted to your soul one high desire, 
 
 By all the trembling hope ye feel, 
 
 Think on the minstrel as ye kneel: 
 
 Think on the shame, that dreadful hour 
 When tears shall have no power, 
 
 Should his own lay th' accuser prove 
 
 Cold, while he kindled others' love: 
 And let your prayer for charity arise, 
 That his own heart may hear his melodies, 
 
 And a true voice to him may cry, 
 
 "Thy God forgives — thou shalt not die." 
 
 * [The idea, in this stanza, of the angels, who had been wont to 
 sing in tune with David's lyre, offended by his grievous fall, but, on 
 the instant of his penitence, restored to sympathizing joy, is beyond 
 all praise. "There is joy among the angels of God over one sinner 
 that repenteth."] 
 
 t The fifty-first Psalm. 
 
 % Psalm li. 12. "Uphold me with thy free Spirit." The original 
 word seems to mean "ingenuous, princely, noble." Rrad Bishop 
 Home's Paraphrase on the verse. [" He prayeth to be continued in 
 that state of salvation, by the Spirit of God, which might enable him 
 to act as became a prophet and a king, free from base desires and 
 enslaving lusts."] 
 
173 
 
 SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE FEAST IX THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 From whence can a man satisfy these men with bread here in the 
 wilderness 1 St. Mark viii. 4. {Gospel for the Day.'] 
 
 [Lord of all power and might, who art the author and giver of all 
 good things; graft in our hearts the love of thy name, increase in us 
 true religion, nourish us with all goodness, and of thy great mercy 
 keep us in the same, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 GO not away, thou weary soul: 
 
 Heaven has in store a precious dole 
 Here on Bethsaida's cold and darksome height, 
 
 Where over rocks and sands arise 
 
 Proud Sirion in the northern skies, 
 And Tabor's lonely peak, 'twixt thee and noon-day light. 
 
 And far below, Gennesaret's main 
 Spreads many a mile of liquid plain,* 
 
 * [Clear as a crystal mirror in the beam 
 
 Of mom, Tiberias' lake expanded lay, 
 As clear and smooth: save where old Jordan's stream 
 
 Marked through that mirror clear his dimpled way. 
 The mist that spread a shadowy veil, at length 
 
 Slow up the mountain's side its skirls hath rolled, 
 And see trie sun, rejoicing in his strength, 
 
 Now tip the rocks, now spread the lake with gold, 
 His sparkling rays on rich Bethsaida fling, 
 
 And light Capernaum's lowers, tall palms, and limpid spring. 
 
 Bishop Mant, Gospel Miracles, p. 47.1 
 15* 
 
174 Seventh Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 (Though all seem gather'd in one eager bound), 
 Then narrowing cleaves yon palmy lea, 
 Towards that deep sulphureous sea, 
 
 Where five proud cities lie, by one dire sentence drown'd. 
 
 Landscape of fear! yet, weary heart, 
 
 Thou need'st not in thy gloom depart, 
 Nor fainting turn to seek thy distant home: 
 
 Sweetly thy sickening throbs are ey'd 
 
 By the kind Saviour at thy side; 
 For healing and for balm even now thine hour is come. 
 
 No fiery wing is seen to glide, 
 
 No cates ambrosial are supplied, 
 But one poor fisher's rude and scanty store 
 
 Is all He asks (and more than needs) 
 
 Who men and angels daily feeds, 
 And stills the wailing sea-bird on the hungry shore. 
 
 The feast is o'er, the guests are gone, 
 
 And over all that upland lone 
 The breeze of eve sweeps wildly as of old — 
 
 But far unlike the former dreams, 
 
 The heart's sweet moonlight softly gleams 
 Upon life's varied view, so joyless erst and cold. 
 
 As mountain travellers in the night, 
 
 When heaven by fits is dark and bright, 
 Pause listening on the silent heath, and hear 
 
 Nor trampling hoof nor tinkling bell 
 
 Then bolder scale the rugged fell, 
 Conscious the more of One, ne'er seen, yet ever near: 
 
 So when the tones of rapture gay 
 
 On the lorn ear die quite away, 
 The lonely world seems lifted nearer heaven; 
 
 Seen daily, yet unmark'd before, 
 
 Earth's common paths are strewed all o'er 
 With flowers of pensive hope, the wreath of man forgiven. 
 
Seventh Sunday after T?'initi/. 175 
 
 The low sweet tones of Nature's lyre 
 
 No more on listless ears expire, 
 Nor vainly smiles along the shady way 
 
 The primrose in her vernal nest, 
 
 Nor unlamented sink to rest 
 Sweet roses one by one, nor autumn leaves decay. 
 
 There's not a star the heaven can show, 
 
 There's not a cottage hearth below, 
 But feeds with solace kind the willing soul — 
 
 Men love us, or they need our love; 
 
 Freely they own, or heedless prove 
 The curse of iawless hearts, the joy of self-control. 
 
 Then rouse thee from desponding sleep, 
 
 Nor by the wayside lingering weep, 
 Nor fear to seek Him farther in the wild, 
 
 Whose love can turn earth's worst and least 
 
 Into a conqueror's royal feast: 
 Thou wilt not be untrue, thou shalt not be beguil'd. 
 
 EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE DISOBEDIENT PROPHET. 
 
 It is the man of God, who was disobedient to the word of the Lord. 
 1 Kings xiii. 26. [First Lesson, Morning Service, Church of England.] 
 
 [O God, whose never failing providence ordereth all things both in 
 heaven and earth; we humbly beseech thee to put away from us all 
 hurtful things, and to give us those things which are profitable for us, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 PROPHET of God, arise and take 
 With thee the words of wrath divine, 
 
 The scourge of Heaven, to shake 
 
 O'er yon apostate shrine. 
 
176 Eighth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Where angels down the lucid stair 
 Came hovering to our sainted sires, 
 
 Now, in the twilight, glare 
 
 The heathen's wizard fires. 
 
 Go, with thy voice the altar rend, 
 
 Scatter the ashes, be the arm, 
 That idols would befriend, 
 Shrunk at thy withering charm. 
 
 Then turn thee, for thy time is short, 
 But trace not o'er the former way, 
 
 Lest idol pleasures court 
 
 Thy heedless soul astray. 
 
 Thou know'st how hard to hurry by, 
 Where on the lonely woodland road 
 
 Beneath the moonlight sky 
 
 The festal warblings flow'd; 
 
 Where maidens to the Queen of Heaven 
 Wove the gay dance round oak or palm, 
 
 Or breath'd their vows at even 
 
 In hymns as soft as balm. 
 
 Or thee perchance a darker spell 
 Enthralls: the smooth stones of the flood,* 
 
 By mountain grot or fell, 
 
 Pollute with infant's blood; 
 
 The giant altar on the rock, 
 The cavern whence the timbrel's call 
 Affrights the wandering flock: 
 Thou long'st to search them all. 
 
 * Isaiah Ivii. 6. Among the smooth stones of the stream is thy por- 
 tion; they, they are thy lot. 
 
Eighth Sunday after Trinity. Ill 
 
 Trust not the dangerous path again — 
 O forward step and lingering will ! 
 
 O lov'd and warn'd in vain ! 
 
 And wilt thou perish still? 
 
 Thy message given, thine home in sight, 
 To the forbidden feast return] 
 
 Yield to the false delight 
 
 Thy better soul could spurn? 
 
 Alas, my brother ! round thy tomb 
 In sorrow kneeling, and in fear, 
 
 We read the Pastor's doom 
 
 Who speaks and will not hear. 
 
 The grey-hair 1 d saint may fail at last, 
 The surest guide a wanderer prove; 
 
 Death only binds us fast 
 
 To the bright shore of love. 
 
 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 ELIJAH IN HOREB. 
 
 And after Hie earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: 
 and after the fire, a still small voice. 1 Kings xix. 12. [First Evening 
 Lesson, Chuich of England.] 
 
 [Grant to us, Lord, we beseech thee, the spirit to think and do always 
 such things as are right; that we, who cannot do any thing that is 
 good without thee, may by thee be enabled to live according to thy 
 will, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen ] 
 
 IN troublous days of anguish and rebuke, 
 While sadly round them Israel's children look, 
 
178 Ninth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 And their eyes fail for waiting- on their Lord: 
 While underneath each awful arch of green, 
 On every mountain top, God's chosen scene 
 
 Of pure heart-worship, Baal is ador'd: 
 
 'Tis well, true hearts should for a time retire 
 To holy ground, in quiet to aspire 
 
 Towards promis'd regions of serener grace; 
 On Horeb, with Elijah, let us lie, 
 Where all around on mountain, sand, and sky, 
 
 God's chariot- wheels have left distinctest trace: 
 
 There, if in jealousy and strong disdain 
 We to the sinner's God of sin complain, 
 
 Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven — 
 "It is enough, O Lord! now let me die 
 " Even as my fathers did: for what am I 
 
 "That I should stand, where they have vainly stri- 
 ven?" — 
 
 Perhaps our God may of our conscience ask, 
 
 " What doest thou here, frail wanderer from thy task 1 ? 
 
 " Where hast thou left those few sheep in the wild]"* 
 Then should we plead our heart's consuming pain, 
 At sight of ruin'd altars, prophets slain, 
 
 And God's own ark with blood of souls defil'd; 
 
 He on the rock may bid us stand, and see 
 The outskirts of his march of mystery, 
 
 His endless warfare with man's wilful heart; 
 First, His great Power He to the sinner shows, 
 Lo! at His angry blast the rocks unclose, 
 
 And to their base the trembling mountains part: 
 
 Yet the Lord is not here: 'tis not by Power 
 He will be known — but darker tempests lower; 
 
 * 1 Sam. xvii. 28. 
 
Ninth Sunday after Trinity. 179 
 
 Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground: 
 Perhaps His Presence thro' all depth and height, 
 Best of all gems, that deck his crown of light, 
 
 The haughty eye may dazzle and confound. 
 
 God is not in the earthquake; but behold 
 From Sinai's caves are bursting, as of old, 
 
 The flames of his consuming jealous ire. 
 Woe to the sinner, should stern justice prove 
 His chosen attribute; — but he in love 
 
 Hastes to proclaim, " God is not in the fire." 
 
 The storm is o'er— and hark! a still small voice 
 Steals on the ear, to say, Jehovah's choice 
 
 Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul: 
 By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw* 
 The sinner, startled by his ways of awe: 
 
 Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll. 
 
 Back then, complainer; loath thy life no more, 
 Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore, 
 
 Because the rocks the nearer prospect close. 
 Yet in fallen Israel are their hearts and eyesf 
 That day by day in prayer like thine arise: 
 
 Thou know'st them not, but their Creator knows. % 
 
 * [Beautifully descriptive of the Saviour's way of drawing sinners 
 unto him. "He shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear 
 his voice in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and smok- 
 ing flax shall be not quench." St. Matthew xii. 20.] 
 
 t [" Yet I have left me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which 
 have not bowed unto Baul, and every mouth which hath not kissed 
 him," 1 Kings xix. 18.] 
 
 J [the synagogue. 
 
 " But even unto this day, when Moses is read, the vail is upon their 
 heart. Nevertheless, when it shall turn to the Lord, the vail shall be 
 taken away." St. Paul. 
 
 I saw them in their synagogue, as in their ancient day, 
 And never from my memory the scene will fade away, 
 
180 Ninth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Go, to the world return, nor fear to cast 
 Thy bread upon the waters, sure at last* 
 
 In joy to find it after many days, 
 The work be thine, the fruit thy children's part: 
 Choose to believe, not see: sight tempts the heart 
 
 From sober walking in true Gospel ways. 
 
 For dazzling on my vision still, the latticed galleries shine 
 With Israel's loveliest daughters, in their beauty half divine! 
 
 It is the holy Pabbalh eve, — the solitary light 
 
 Sheds, mingled with the hues of day, a lustre nothing bright; 
 
 On swarthy brow and piercing glance it falls with saddening tinge, 
 
 And dimly gilds the Pharisee's phylacteries and fringe. 
 
 The two leaved doors slide slow apart before the eastern screen, 
 As rise the Hebrew harmonies, with chanted prayers between, 
 And mid the tissued vails disclosed, of many a gorgeous dye, 
 Enveloped in their jewelled scarfs, the sacred records lie. 
 
 Robed in his sacerdotal vest, a silvery headed man 
 With voice of solemn cadence o'er the backward letters ran, 
 And often yet methinks I see the glow and power that sate 
 Upon his face, as forth ho spread the roll immaculate. 
 
 And fervently that hour I prayed, that from the mighty scroll, 
 Its light, in burning characters, might break on every soul, 
 That on their hardened hearts the vail might be no longer dark, 
 But be for ever rent it twain like that before the ark. 
 
 For yet the tenfold film shall fall, O Judah ! from thy sight, 
 And every eye be purged to read thy testimonies right, 
 When thou, with all iMessiah's signs in Christ distinctly seen, 
 Shall, by Jehovah's nameless name, invoke the Nazarene. 
 
 Rev. William Croswcll.) 
 * Eccles. xi. 1. 
 
181 
 
 TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 CHRIST WEEPING OVER JERUSALEM. 
 
 And when he was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it. 
 St. Luke xix. 41. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Let thy merciful ears, O Lord, be open to the prayers of thy humble 
 servants; and that they may obtain their petitions, make them to ask 
 such things as shall please thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.\ 
 
 WHY doth my Saviour weep 
 
 At sight of Sion's bowers'? 
 Shows it not fair from yonder steep, 
 
 Her gorgeous crown of towers'? 
 Mark well his holy pains: 
 
 'Tis not in pride or scorn, 
 That Israel's King with sorrow stains 
 
 His own triumphal morn. 
 
 It is not that his soul 
 
 Is wandering sadly on, 
 In thought how soon at death's dark goal 
 
 Their course will all be run, 
 Who now are shouting round 
 
 Hosanna to their chief; 
 No thought like this in Him is found, 
 
 This were a Conqueror's grief.* 
 
 * Compare Herod, vii. 46. [" When he (Xerxes) saw the Hellespont 
 
 covered with ships, and the whole shore and plains of Abydos filled 
 
 with soldiers, he at first congratulated himself, on his good fortune ; 
 
 but soon after, he shed tears."— " When I reflect," says he, "on the 
 
 16 
 
182 Tenth Sunday after Trinity, 
 
 Or doth he feel the Cross 
 
 Already in his heart, 
 The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss? 
 
 Feel even his God depart 1 ? 
 No: though he knew full well 
 
 The grief that then shall be — 
 The grief that angels cannot tell — 
 
 Our God in agony. 
 
 It is not thus he mourns; 
 
 Such might be Martyr's tears, 
 When his last lingering look he turns 
 
 On human hopes and fears; 
 But hero ne'er or saint 
 
 The secret load might know, 
 With which His spirit waxeth faint; 
 
 His is a Saviour's woe. 
 
 " If thou hadst known, even thou, 
 
 " At least in this thy day, 
 " The message of thy peace ! but now 
 
 " 'Tis pass'd for aye away: 
 " Now foes shall trench thee round, 
 
 "And lay thee even with earth, 
 "And dash thy children to the ground, 
 
 " Thy glory and thy mirth." 
 
 And doth the Saviour weep 
 
 Over his people's sin, 
 Because we will not let him keep 
 
 The souls He died to win? 
 Ye hearts, that love the Lord, 
 
 If at this sight ye burn, 
 See that in thought, in deed, in word, 
 
 Ye hate what made Him mourn. 
 
 shortness of human life, and that, of so many myriads of men, not one 
 will remain one hundred years, I am overwhelmed with grief." — 
 Strange inconsistency in one who was hurrying thousands of them to 
 an untimely death! But such is man.] 
 
183 
 
 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 GEHAZI REPROVED. 
 
 Ts it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and olive 
 yards, and vineyards, and sheep, and oxen, and men servants, and 
 maid servants? 2 Kings v. 2G. [First Morning Lesson, Church of 
 England.} 
 
 [O God, who declarest thy Almighty power chiefly in showing mercy 
 and pity; mercifully grant unto us such a measure of thy grace, that 
 we, running the way of thy commandments, may obtain thy gracious 
 promises, and he made partakers of thy heavenly treasure, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.} 
 
 IS this a time to plant and build, 
 Add house to house, and field to field, 
 When round our walls the battle lowers, 
 When mines are hid beneath our towers, 
 And watchful foes are stealing round 
 To search and spoil the holy ground? 
 
 Is this a time for moonlight dreams 
 Of love and home by mazy streams, 
 For Fancy with her shadowy toys, 
 Aerial hopes and pensive joys, 
 While souls are wandering far and wide, 
 And curses swarm on every side] 
 
 No — rather steel thy melting heart 
 To act the martyr's sternest part, 
 
184 Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 To watch, with firm unshrinking eye, 
 Thy darling visions as they die, 
 Till all bright hopes, and hues of day 
 Have faded into twilight gray. 
 
 Yes — let them pass without a sigh, 
 
 And if the world seem dull and dry, 
 
 If long and sad thy lonely hours, 
 
 And winds have rent thy sheltering bowers, 
 
 Bethink thee what thou art, and where, 
 
 A sinner in a life of care. 
 
 The fire of God is soon to fall 
 (Thou know'st it) on this earthly ball; 
 Full many a soul, the price of blood, 
 Mark'd by th' Almighty's hand for good, 
 To utter death that hour shall sweep — 
 And will the Saints in Heaven dare weep? 
 
 Then in his wrath shall God uproot 
 The trees He set, for lack of fruit, 
 And drown in rude tempestuous blaze 
 The towers His hand had deign'd to raise; 
 In silence, ere that storm begin, 
 Count o'er His mercies and thy sin. 
 
 Pray only that thine aching heart, 
 From visions vain content to part, 
 Strong for love's sake its woe to hide 
 May cheerful wait the cross beside, 
 Too happy, if that dreadful day, 
 Thy life be given thee for a prey.* 
 
 * Jeremiah xlv. 4, 5. The Lord saith thus: Behold, that which I 
 have built will I break down, and that which I have planted I will 
 pluck up, even this whole land. And seekest thou great things for 
 thyself? seek them not, for, behold, I will bring evil upon all flesh, 
 saith the Lord ; but thy life will I give unto thee for a prey in all places 
 whither thou goest. 
 
Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. 185 
 
 Snatch'd sudden from th' avenging rod, 
 Safe in the bosom of thy God, 
 How wilt thou then look back, and smile 
 On thoughts that bitterest seem'd erewhile, 
 And bless the pangs that made thee see, 
 This was no world of rest for thee ! 
 
 TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 And looking up to Heaven, He sighed, and saith unto him, Ephpha- 
 tha, that is, Be opened. St. Mark vii. 34. [Gospel for the Day.) 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, who art always more ready to hear 
 than we to pray, and art wont to give more than either we desire or 
 deserve; pour down upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us 
 those things whereof our conscience is afraid, and giving us those 
 good things which we are not worthy to ask, but through the merits 
 and mediation of Jesus I hrist thy Son our Lord, jlmen.) 
 
 THE Son of God in doing good 
 
 Was fain to look to heaven and sigh: 
 
 And shall the heirs of sinful blood 
 Seek joy unmix'd in charity'? 
 
 God will not let Love's work impart 
 
 Full solace, lest it steal the heart; 
 
 Be thou content in tears to sow, 
 
 Blessing, like Jesus, in thy woe. 
 
 He look'd to heaven, and sadly sigh'd — 
 What saw my gracious Saviour there, 
 
 With fear and anguish to divide 
 The joy of Heaven-accepted prayer! 
 
 So o'er the bed where Lazarus slept 
 
 He to his Father groan'd and wept: 
 16* 
 
136 Twelfth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 What saw he mournful in that grave, 
 Knowing himself so strong to save? 
 
 O'erwhelming thoughts of pain and grief 
 
 Over his sinking spirit sweep; — 
 " What boots it gathering one lost leaf 
 " Out of yon sere and wither'd heap, 
 " Where souls and bodies, hopes and joys, 
 "All that earth owns or sin destroys, 
 " Under the spurning hoof are cast, 
 " Or tossing in the autumnal blast]" 
 
 The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, 
 
 The fetter'd tongue its chain may break; 
 But the deaf heart, the dumb by choice, 
 The laggard soul, that will not wake, 
 The guilt that scorns to be forgiven; — 
 These baffle e'en the spells of heaven; 
 In thought of these, his brows benign 
 Not even in healing cloudless shine. 
 
 No eye but His might ever bear 
 
 To gaze all down that drear abyss, 
 Because none ever saw so clear 
 
 The shore of endless bliss: 
 The giddy waves so restless hurl'd, 
 The vex'd pulse of this feverish world, 
 He views and counts with steady sight 
 Used to behold the Infinite. 
 
 But that in such communion high 
 
 He hath a fount of strength within, 
 Sure His meek heart would break and die, 
 
 O'erburthen'd by his brethren's sin; 
 Weak eyes on darkness dare not gaze, 
 It dazzles like the noon-day blaze; 
 But He who sees God's face may brook 
 On the true face of Sin to look. 
 
Twelfth Sunday after Trinity. 187 
 
 What then shall wretched sinners do, 
 When in their last, their hopeless day, 
 
 Sin, as it is, shall meet their view, 
 God tarn his face for aye away] 
 
 Lord by thy sad and earnest eye, 
 
 When Thou didst look to heaven and sigh; 
 
 Thy voice, that with a word could chase 
 
 The dumb, deaf spirit from his place; 
 
 As thou hast touch'd our ears, and taught 
 Our tongues to speak thy praises plain, 
 Quell thou each thankless, godless thought 
 
 That would make fast our bonds again. 
 From worldly strife, from mirth unblest, 
 Drowning thy music in the breast, 
 From foul reproach, from thrilling fears, 
 Preserve, good Lord, thy servants' ears. 
 
 From idle words, that restless throng, 
 
 And haunt our hearts when we would pray, 
 
 From pride's false chime, and jarring wrong 
 Seal Thou my lips, and guard the way: 
 
 For Thou hast sworn, that every ear, 
 
 Willing or loth, thy trump shall hear, 
 
 And every tongue unchained be 
 
 To own no hope, no God, but Thee. 
 
188 
 
 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 MOSES ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 And he turned him unto his disciples, and said privately, Blessed are 
 the eyes which see the things that ye see: for I tell you, that many 
 prophets and kings have desired to see those things which ye see, and 
 have not seen them : and to hear those things which ye hear, and have 
 not heard them. St. Luke x. 23, 24. [Gospel for the Day] 
 
 [Almighty and merciful God, of whose only gift it cometh that thy 
 faithful people do unto thee true and laudable service; grant, we be- 
 seech thee, that we may so faithfully serve thee in this life, that we 
 fail not finally to attain thy heavenly promises, through the merits of 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 ON Sinai's top, in prayer and trance, 
 
 Full forty nights and forty days 
 The Prophet watch'd for one dear glance 
 
 Of Thee and of thy ways: 
 
 Fasting he watch'd and all alone, 
 
 Wrapt in a still, dark, solid cloud, 
 The curtain of the Holy One 
 
 Drawn round him like a shroud: 
 
 So, separate from the world, his breast 
 
 Might duly take and strongly keep 
 The print of Heaven, to be express'd 
 
 Ere long on Sion's steep.* 
 
 * See that thou make all things according to the pattern showed to 
 thee in the mount. Jlebrercs viii. 5. 
 
Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. 189 
 
 There one by one his spirit saw 
 
 Of things divine the shadows bright, 
 
 The pageant of God's perfect law; 
 Yet felt not full delight. 
 
 Through gold and gems, a dazzling maze, 
 
 From veil to veil the vision led, 
 And ended, where unearthly rays 
 
 From o'er the Ark were shed. 
 
 Yet not that gorgeous place, nor aught 
 
 Of human or angelic frame, 
 Could half appease his craving thought; 
 
 The void was still the same.. 
 
 " Show me thy glory, gracious Lord ! 
 
 "'Tis Thee," he cries, "not thine, I seek."*— 
 Nay, start not at so bold a word 
 
 From man, frail worm and weak: 
 
 The spark of his first deathless fire 
 
 Yet buoys him up, and high above 
 The holiest creature, dares aspire 
 
 To the Creator's love. 
 
 The eye in smiles may wander round, 
 Caught by earth's shadows as they fleet; 
 
 But for the soul no help is found, 
 Save Him who made it, meet. 
 
 Spite of yourselves, ye witness this,f 
 Who blindly self or sense adore; 
 
 * Exodus xxxiii. 18. 
 
 t Pensees de Pascal, part 1, art. viii. [" Considerons 1e maintenant 
 a Vegard de la felicite qu'il recherche avec taut d'ardeur en tomes ses 
 actions. (Jar tous les homines desirent d'etre heureux ; cela est sans 
 exception. Ciuelques differents moyens qu'ils y emploient, ils tendent 
 tous a ce but. Ce qui fait que l'un va a la guerre, et que l'autre n'y 
 va pas; c'est ce meuie desir qui est dans tous les deux, accompagne de 
 
190 Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Else wherefore leaving your own bliss 
 Still restless ask ye more! 
 
 This witness bore the saints of old 
 When highest rapt and favour'd most, 
 
 Still seeking precious things untold, 
 Not in fruition lost. 
 
 Canaan was theirs, and in it all 
 The proudest hope of kings dare claim; 
 
 Sion was theirs; and at their call 
 Fire from Jehovah came. 
 
 Yet monarchs walk'd as pilgrims still 
 In their own land, earth's pride and grace; 
 
 And seers would mourn on Sion's hill 
 Their Lord's averted face. 
 
 Vainly they tried the deeps to sound 
 Even of their own prophetic thought, 
 
 When of Christ crucified and crown'd 
 His Spirit in them taught: 
 
 But He their aching gaze repress'd, 
 Which sought behind the veil to see, 
 
 For not without us fully bless'd* 
 Or perfect might they be. 
 
 The rays of the Almighty's face 
 No sinner's eye might then receive; 
 
 differentes vues. La volonte ne fait jamais la moindre demarche que 
 vers cet objet. C'est le motif de toutes les actions de tous les hommes, 
 jusqu' a ceux qui se tuent et qui se pendent. 
 
 " Et ce pendant depuis un de grand nombre d'annees, jamais per- 
 sonne, sans la foi, n'est arrive a ce point, ou tous tendent continuelle- 
 ment. Tous se plaignent, Principes, Sujets; nobles, roturiers; vieil- 
 )ards, jeunes; forts, foibles; savants, ignorants; sains, malades ; de 
 tout pays, de tout temps ; de tous ages, et de toutes conditions."] 
 
 * Hebrews xi. 40. That they without us should not be made per- 
 fect. 
 
Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. 191 
 
 Only the meekest man found grace* 
 To see his skirts and live. 
 
 But we as in a glass espy 
 
 The glory of His countenance, 
 Not in a whirlwind hurrying by 
 
 The too presumptuous glance, 
 
 But with mild radiance every hour, 
 
 From our dear Saviour's face benign 
 Bent on us with transforming power, 
 
 Till we, too, faintly shine. 
 
 Sprinkled with His atoning blood 
 
 Safely before our God we stand, 
 As on the rock the Prophet stood, 
 
 Beneath his shadowing hand. — ■ 
 
 Bless'd eyes, which see the things we see! 
 
 And yet this tree of life hath prov'd 
 To many a soul a poison tree, 
 
 Beheld, and not belov'd. 
 
 So like an angel's is our bliss 
 
 (Oh! thought to comfort and appal) 
 It needs must bring, if us'd amiss, 
 
 An angel's hopeless fall. 
 
 * Exodus xxxiii. 20—23. 
 
192 
 
 FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE TEN LEPERS. 
 
 And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed ? but where 
 are the nine ? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, 
 save this stranger. St. Luke xvii. 17, 18. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Almighty and everlasting God, give unto us the increase of faith, 
 hope and charity; and that we may obtain that which thou dost pro- 
 mise, make us to love that which "thou dost command, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 TEN cleans'd, and only one remain! 
 
 Who would have thought our nature's stain 
 
 Was dyed so foul, so deep in grain? 
 
 Even He who reads the heart, — 
 Knows what He gave and what we lost, 
 Sin's forfeit, and redemption's cost, — 
 By a short pang of wonder cross'd 
 
 Seems at the sight to start: 
 
 Yet 'twas not wonder, but His love 
 Our wavering spirits would reprove, 
 That heaven-ward seem so free to move 
 
 When earth can yield no more: 
 Then from afar on God we cry; 
 But should the mist of woe roll by, 
 Not showers across an April sky 
 
 Drift, when the storm is o'er, 
 
Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity. 193 
 
 Faster than those false drops and few 
 Fleet from the heart, a worthless dew. 
 What sadder scene can angels view 
 
 Than self-deceiving tears, 
 Pour'd idly over some dark page 
 Of earlier life, though pride or rage 
 The record of to-day engage, 
 
 A woe for future years? 
 
 Spirits, that round the sick man's bed 
 Watch'd, noting down each prayer he made, 
 Were your unerring roll display'd, 
 
 His pride of health t' abase; 
 Or; when soft showers in season fall 
 Answering a famish'd nation's-call, 
 Should unseen fingers on the wall 
 
 Our vows forgotten trace; 
 
 How should we gaze in trance of fear! 
 Yet shines the light as thrilling clear 
 From heaven upon that scroll severe, 
 
 "Ten cleans'd and one remain!" 
 Nor surer would the blessing prove 
 Of humbled hearts, that own thy love, 
 Should choral welcome from above 
 
 Visit our senses plain: 
 
 Than by Thy placid voice and brow, 
 With healing first, with comfort now, 
 Turn'd upon him, who hastes to bow 
 
 Before Thee, heart and knee; 
 " Oh! thou, who only would'st be blest, 
 " On thee alone my blessing rest! 
 "Rise, go thy way in peace, possess'd 
 
 "For evermore of me." 
 
 17 
 
194 
 
 FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD. 
 
 Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. St. Matthew vi. 28. 
 [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Keep, we beseech thee, O Lord, thy Church with thy perpetual 
 mercy: and because the frailty of man without thee cannot but fall, 
 keep us ever by thy help from all things hurtful, and lead us to all 
 things profitable to our salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen.] 
 
 SWEET nurslings of the vernal skies, 
 Bath'd in soft airs, and fed with dew, 
 
 What more than magic in you lies, 
 To fill the heart's fond view? 
 
 In childhood's sports, companions gay,* 
 
 In sorrow, on Life's downward way, 
 
 How soothing! in our last decay 
 Memorials prompt and true. 
 
 * [" Look at the little child on the meadow, no matter though it has 
 been born in the very heart of a city, and seen nothing but brick walls, 
 and crowds, and rolling carriages, and pavements, and dust; let it once 
 get its feet upon the sward, and it will toss away the most costly play- 
 things, and never gather enough of the buttercups, and daisies, and 
 other wild flowers which prank the sod. And if it shall start a little 
 bird, which bounces onward with easy wing, as if it were leaping 
 from portion to portion of the sightless air, how it will stretch its little 
 hands, and shout, and hurry on to catch the living treasure, which, in 
 its young, but perfectly natural estimation, is of more value than the 
 wealth of the world. And if the bird perches on the hedge or the tree, 
 and sings its sweet song of security, the little finger will at once be 
 held up by their little ear, and the other hand will be extended with 
 the palm backwards, as if a sign were given by nature herself for the 
 world to listen and admire." Miulie's Observation of Nature, p. 35.] 
 
Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. 195 
 
 Relics ye are of Eden's bowers, 
 
 As pure, as fragrant, and as fair, 
 As when ye crown'd the sunshine hours 
 
 Of happy wanderers there. 
 Fall'n all beside — the world of life, 
 How is it stain'd with fear and strife! 
 In Reason's world what storms are rife, 
 
 What passions range and glare! 
 
 But cheerful and unchang'd the while 
 
 Your first and perfect form ye show, 
 The same that won Eve's matron smile 
 
 In the world's opening glow. 
 The stars of Heaven a course are taught 
 Too high above our human thought; — 
 Ye may be found if ye are sought, 
 
 And as we gaze, we know. 
 
 Ye dwell beside our paths and homes, 
 Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow, 
 
 And guilty man, where'er he roams, 
 Your innocent mirth may borrow. 
 
 The birds of air before us fleet, 
 
 They cannot brook our shame to meet — 
 
 But we may taste your solace sweet 
 And come again to-morrow. 
 
 Ye fearless in your nests abide — 
 Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise, 
 
 Your silent lessons, undescried 
 By all but lowly eyes: 
 
 For ye could draw th' admiring gaze 
 
 Of Him who worlds and hearts surveys: 
 
 Your order wild, your fragrant maze, 
 He taught us how to prize. 
 
 Ye felt your Maker's smile that hour, 
 As when He paus'd and own'd you good; 
 
196 Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity, 
 
 His blessing on earth's primal bower, 
 
 Ye felt it all renew'd. 
 What care ye now, if winter's storm 
 Sweep ruthless o'er each silken form 1 ? 
 Christ's blessing at your heart is warm, 
 
 Ye fear no vexing mood. 
 
 Alas! of thousand bosoms kind, 
 
 That daily court you and caress, 
 How few the happy secret find 
 
 Of your calm loveliness! 
 " Live for to-day! to-morrow's light 
 "To-morrow's cares shall bring to sight, 
 " Go sleep like closing flowers at night, 
 "And Heaven thy morn will bless." 
 
 SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 HOPE IS BETTER THAN EASE. 
 
 I desire that ye faint not at my tribulations for you, which is your 
 glory. Ephesians iii. 13. [Epistle for the Day.} 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee, let thy continual pity cleanse and defend 
 thy Church ; and because it cannot continue in safety without thy 
 succour, preserve it evermore by thy help and goodness, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 WISH not, dear friends, my pain away — 
 Wish me a wise and thankful heart, 
 
 With God, in all my griefs, to stay, 
 Nor from His lov'd correction start. 
 
 The dearest offering He can crave 
 His portion in our souls to prove, 
 
Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. 197 
 
 What is it to the grift He gave, 
 The only Son of His dear love 1 ? 
 
 But we, like vex'd unquiet sprights, 
 Will still be hovering o'er the tomb, 
 
 Where buried lie our vain delights, 
 Nor sweetly take a sinner's doom. 
 
 In Life's long sickness evermore 
 
 Our thoughts are tossing to and fro: 
 We change our posture o'er and o'er, 
 
 But cannot rest, nor cheat our woe. 
 
 Were it not better to lie still, 
 
 Let Him strike home, and bless the rod; 
 
 Never so safe as when our will 
 
 Yields undiscern'd by all but God 1 ?* 
 
 Thy precious things, whate'er they be 
 That haunt and vex thee, heart and brain, 
 
 Look to the Cross, and thou shalt see 
 How thou may'st turn them all to gain. 
 
 Lovest thou praise 1 ? the Cross is shame: 
 Or ease! the Cross is bitter grief: 
 
 * ["Content can never dwell but in a meek and quiet soul. And 
 this may appear, if we consider what our Saviour says in St. Matthew's 
 gospel: for there he says, ' Blessed are the merciful, for they shall ob- 
 tain mercy: blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God : blessed 
 be the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God: and blessed are 
 the meek, for they shall possess the earth.' Not that the meek shall 
 not also obtain mercy, and see God, and be comforted, and at last 
 come to the kingdom of heaven ; but, in the mean time, he, and he 
 only, possesses the earth as he goes towards that kingdom of heaven, 
 by being humble, and cheerful, and content with what his good God 
 has allotted him. He has no turbulent, repining, vexatious thoughts, 
 that he deserves better; nor is vexed when he sees others possessed of 
 more honour or more riches than his wise God has allotted for his 
 share; but he possesses what he has with a meek and contented quiet- 
 ness, such a quietness as makes his very dreams pleasing both to God 
 and himself." Isaac Walton's Complete Angler.] 
 
 17* 
 
 
198 Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 More pangs than tongue or heart can frame 
 Were suffer'd there without relief. 
 
 We of that altar would partake, 
 But cannot quit the cost— no throne 
 
 Is ours, to leave for Thy dear sake— 
 We can not do as Thou hast done. 
 
 We can not part with Heaven for Thee— 
 Yet guide us in thy track of love: 
 
 Let us gaze on where light should be, 
 Though not a beam the clouds remove. 
 
 So wanderers ever fond and true 
 
 Look homeward through the evening sky, 
 
 Without a streak of Heaven's soft blue 
 To aid Affection's dreaming eye. 
 
 The wanderer seeks his native bower, 
 And we will look and long for Thee, 
 
 And thank Thee for each trying hour, 
 Wishing, not struggling, to be free. 
 
199 
 
 SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Every man of the house of Israel that settetli up his idols in his 
 heart, and putteth the stumbling-block of his iniquity before his face, 
 and corneth to the Prophet, I the Lord will answer him according to the. 
 multitude of his idols. Ezekiel xiv. 4. [First Morning Lesson, Church 
 of England.] 
 
 [Lord, we pray thee, that thy grace may always prevent and follow 
 us; and make us continually to be given to all good works, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord, jimen.] 
 
 STATELY thy walls, and holy are the prayers, 
 Which day and night before thine altars rise; 
 
 Not statelier, towering o'er her marble stairs, 
 Flash'd Sion's gilded dome to summer skies, 
 
 Not holier, while around him angels bow'd, 
 
 From Aaron's censer steam'd the spicy cloud, 
 
 Before the mercy-seat. O Mother dear, 
 Wilt thou forgive thy son one boding sigh? 
 
 Forgive, if round thy towers he walk in fear, 
 And tell thy jewels o'er with jealous eye? 
 
 Mindful of that sad vision, which in thought* 
 
 From Chebar's plains the captive prophet brought 
 
 * Ezekiel viii.3. 
 
200 Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 To see lost Sion's shame. 'Twas morning- prime, 
 And like a Queen new seated on her throne, 
 
 God's crowned mountain, as in happier time, 
 Seem'd to rejoice in sunshine all her own; 
 
 So bright, while all in shade around her lay, 
 
 Her northern pinnacles had caught th' emerging ray. 
 
 The dazzling lines of her majestic roof 
 
 Cross'd with as free a span the vault of Heaven, 
 
 As when twelve tribes knelt silently aloof, 
 Ere God his answer to their king had given,* 
 
 Ere yet upon the new-built altar fell 
 
 The glory of the Lord, the Lord of Israel. 
 
 All seems the same: but enter in and see 
 
 What idol shapes are on the wall portray 'd:f 
 
 And watch their shameless and unholy glee, 
 Who worship there in Aaron's robes array'd: 
 
 Hear Judah's maids the dirge to Thammuz pour,:}: 
 
 And mark, her chiefs yon orient sun adore. § 
 
 Yet turn thee, Son of man — for worse than these 
 Thou must behold: thy loathing were but lost 
 
 On dead men's crimes, and Jews' idolatries — 
 Come, learn to tell aright thine own sins' cost, — 
 
 And sure their sin as far from equals thine, 
 
 As earthly hopes abus'd are less than hopes divine. 
 
 What if within His world, His Church, our Lord 
 Have enter'd thee, as in some temple gate, 
 
 W T here, looking round, each glance might thee afford 
 Some glorious earnest of thine high estate, 
 
 And thou, false heart and frail, hast turn'd from all 
 
 To worship pleasure's shadow on the wall"? 
 
 * 1 Kings viii. 5. t Ezekiel viii. 10. 
 
 | Ezekiel viii. 14. § Ezekiel viii. 16. 
 
Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. 201 
 
 If, when the Lord of Glory was in sight, 
 Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear, 
 
 To bow before the " little drop of light," 
 
 Which dim-eyed men call praise and glory here; 
 
 What dost thou, but adore the sun, and scorn 
 
 Him at whose only word both sun and stars were born] 
 
 If, while around thee gales from Eden breathe, 
 Thou hide thine eyes, to make thy peevish moan 
 
 Over some broken reed of earth beneath, 
 Some darling of blind fancy dead and gone, 
 
 As wisely might'st thou in Jehovah's fane 
 
 Offer thy love and tears to Thammnz slain. 
 
 Turn thee from these, or dare not to inquire 
 Of Him whose name is Jealous, lest in wrath 
 
 He hear and answer thine unblest desire: 
 
 Far better we should cross his lightning's path 
 
 Than be according to our idols heard, 
 
 And God should take us at our own vain word. 
 
 Thou who hast deign'd the Christian's heart to call 
 Thy Church and Shrine; whene'er our rebel will 
 
 Would in that chosen home of thine instal 
 Belial or Mammon, grant us not the ill 
 
 We blindly ask; in very love refuse 
 
 Whate'er thou know'st our weakness would abuse. 
 
 Or rather help us, Lord, to choose the good, 
 To pray for nought, to seek to none, but Thee, 
 
 Nor by " our daily bread" mean common food, 
 Nor say, " From this world's evil set us free;" 
 
 Teach us to love, with Christ, our sole true bliss, 
 
 Else, though in Christ's own words, we surely pray amiss. 
 
202 
 
 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 I will bring you into the wilderness of the people, and there will I 
 plead with you face to face: like as I pleaded with your fathers in the 
 wilderness of the land of Egypt, so will r plead with you, saith the 
 Lord God. Eiekiel xx. 35, 36. [ First Morning Lesson, Church of Eng- 
 land.] 
 
 [Lord, we beseech thee, grant thy people grace to withstand the 
 temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil ; and with pure hearts 
 and minds to follow thee, the only God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 
 Amen.~\ 
 
 IT is so — ope thine eyes, and see — 
 What view'st thou all around] 
 
 A desert, where iniquity 
 
 And knowledge both abound. 
 
 In the waste howling- wilderness 
 
 The Church is wandering still,* 
 
 Because we would not onward press 
 When close to Sion's hill. 
 
 Back to the world we faithless turn'd, 
 
 And far along the wild, 
 With labour lost and sorrow earn'd, 
 
 Our steps have been beguiPd. 
 
 * Revelations xii. 14. 
 
Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. 203 
 
 Yet full before us, all the while, 
 
 The shadowing pillar stays, 
 The living waters brightly smile, 
 
 Th' eternal turrets blaze. 
 
 Yet Heaven is raining angels' bread 
 
 To be our daily food, 
 And fresh, as when it first was shed, 
 
 Springs forth the Saviour's blood. 
 
 From every region, race, and speech, 
 
 Believing myriads throng, 
 Till, far as sin and sorrow reach, 
 
 Thy grace is spread along; 
 
 Till sweetest nature, brightest art, 
 
 Their votive incense bring, 
 And every voice and every heart 
 
 Own Thee their God and King. 
 
 All own, but few, alas! will love; 
 
 Too like the recreant band 
 That with thy patient Spirit strove 
 
 Upon the Red-sea strand. 
 
 Father of long-suffering grace, 
 
 Thou who hast sworn to stay 
 Pleading with sinners face to face 
 
 Through all their devious way; 
 
 How shall we speak to Thee, O Lord, 
 
 Or how in silence lie"? 
 Look on us, and we are abhorr'd, 
 
 Turn from us, and we die. 
 
 Thy guardian fire, thy guiding cloud, 
 
 Still let them gild our wall, 
 Nor be our foes and thine allow'd 
 
 To see us faint and fall. 
 
204 Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Too oft, within this camp of thine, 
 
 Rebellious murmurs rise; 
 Sin cannot bear to see Thee shine 
 
 So awful to her eyes. 
 
 Fain would our lawless hearts escape, 
 
 And with the heathen be, 
 To worship every monstrous shape 
 
 In fancied darkness free.* 
 
 Vain thought, that shall not be at all! 
 
 Refuse we or obey, 
 Our ears have heard the Almighty's call, 
 
 We cannot be as they. 
 
 We cannot hope the heathen's doom, 
 
 To whom God's Son is given, 
 Whose eyes have seen beyond the tomb, 
 
 Who have the key of Heaven. 
 
 Weak tremblers on the edge of woe, 
 
 Yet shrinking from true bliss, 
 Our rest must be "no rest below," 
 
 And let our prayer be this: 
 
 " Lord, wave again thy chastening rod, 
 
 "Till every idol throne 
 " Crumble to dust, and Thou, O God, 
 
 " Reign in our hearts alone. 
 
 " Bring all our wandering fancies home, 
 
 " For Thou hast every spell, 
 "And 'mid the heathen where they roam, 
 
 "Thou knowest, Lord, too well. 
 
 * Ezckiel xx. 32. That which conieth into your mind shall not be 
 at all, that ye say, We will be as the heathen, as the families of the 
 countries, to serve wood and etone. 
 
 
Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. 205 
 
 "Thou know'st our service sad and hard, 
 "Thou know'st us fond and frail; — 
 
 " Win us to be belov'd and spar'd 
 "When all the world shall fail. 
 
 " So when at last our weary days 
 
 "Are well-nigh wasted here, 
 " And we can trace thy w T ondrous ways 
 
 " In distance calm and clear, 
 
 " When in thy love and Israel's sin 
 
 " We read our story true, 
 " We may not, all too late, begin 
 
 "To wish our hopes were new: 
 
 • 
 
 "Long lov'd, long tried, long spar'd as they, 
 
 " Unlike in this alone, 
 " That, by thy grace, our hearts shall stay 
 
 " For evermore thine own." 
 
 18 
 
206 
 
 NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 SHADRACH, MESHACH, AND ABEDNEGO. 
 
 Then Nebuchadnezzar the King was astonished, and rose up in haste, 
 and spake, and said unto his counsellors, Did not we cast three men 
 bound into the midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the 
 King, Trffe, O King. He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, 
 walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form 
 of the fourth is like the Son of God. Daniel iii. 24, 25. [First Morn- 
 ing Lesson, Church of England.] 
 
 [O God, forasmuch as without thee we are not able to please thee; 
 mercifully grant that thy Holy Spirit may in all things direct and rule 
 our hearts, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen] 
 
 WHEN Persecution's torrent blaze 
 Wraps the unshrinking Martyr's head; 
 
 When fade all earthly flowers and bays, 
 When summer friends are gone and fled, 
 
 Is he alone in that dark hour 
 
 Who owns the Lord of love and power? 
 
 Or waves there not around his brow 
 
 A wand no human arm may wield, 
 Fraught with a spell no angels know, 
 
 His steps to guide, his soul to shield? 
 Thou, Saviour, art his charmed bower, 
 His magic ring, his rock, his tower. 
 
 And when the wicked ones behold 
 Thy favourites walking in thy light, 
 
Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. 207 
 
 Just as, in fancied triumph bold, 
 
 They deera'd them lost in deadly night, 
 Amaz'd they cry, " What spell is this, 
 '* Which turns their sufferings all to bliss 1 ? 
 
 " How are they free whom we had bound, 
 " Upright, whom in the gulf we cast] 
 
 " What wondrous helper have they found 
 " To screen them from the scorching blast] 
 
 "Three were they — who hath made them four] 
 
 "And sure a form divine he wore, 
 
 " Even like the Son of God." So cried 
 The Tyrant, when in one fierce flame 
 
 The martyrs liv'd, the murderers died: 
 Yet knew he not what angel came 
 
 To make the rushing fire-flood seem 
 
 Like summer breeze by woodland stream.* 
 
 He knew not, but there are who know: 
 
 The Matron, who alone hath stood, 
 When not a prop seem'd left below, 
 
 The first lorn hour of widowhood, 
 Yet cheerM and cheering all, the while, 
 With sad but unaffected smile; — 
 
 The Father, who his vigil keeps 
 
 By the sad couch whence hope hath flown, 
 
 Watching the eye where reason sleeps, 
 Yet in his heart can mercy own, 
 
 Still sweetly yielding to the rod, 
 
 Still loving man, still thanking God; — 
 
 The Christian Pastor, bow'd to earth 
 With thankless toil, and vile esteem'd, 
 
 * Song of the Three Children, ver. 27. " And made the midst of the 
 furnace as it had been a moist whistling wind, [so that the fire touched 
 them not at all, neither hurt nor troubled them "] 
 
20S Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Still travailing in second birth 
 
 Of souls that will not be redeem'd, 
 Yet steadfast set to do his part, 
 And fearing most his own vain heart; — 
 
 These know: on these look long and well, 
 Cleansing thy sight by prayer and faith, 
 
 And thou shalt know what secret spell 
 Preserves them in their living death: 
 
 Through sevenfold flames thine eye shall see 
 
 The Saviour walking with his faithful Three. 
 
 TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 Hear ye, O mountains, the Lord's controversy, and ye strong foun- 
 dations of the earth. Micah vi. 2. [First Evening Lesson, Church of 
 England.] 
 
 [0 Almighty and most merciful God, of thy bountiful goodness keep 
 us, we beseech thee, from all things that may hurt us; that we, being 
 ready both in body and soul, may cheerfully" accomplish those things 
 which thou commandest, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 WHERE is thy favour'd haunt, eternal Voice, 
 
 The region of thy choice, 
 Where, undisturb'd by sin and earth, the soul 
 
 Owns thine entire control] — 
 'Tis on the mountain's summit dark and high, 
 
 When storms are hurrying by: 
 'Tis 'mid the strong foundations of the earth, 
 
 Where torrents have their birth. 
 
Twentieth Sunday after Trinity, 209 
 
 No sounds of worldly toil ascending there, 
 
 Mar the full burst of prayer; 
 Lone Nature feels that she may freely breathe, 
 
 And round us and beneath 
 Are heard her sacred tones: the fitful sweep 
 
 Of winds across the steep, 
 Through wither'd bents — romantic note and clear, 
 
 Meet for a hermit's ear, — 
 
 The wheeling kite's wild solitary cry, 
 
 And, scarcely heard so high, 
 The dashing waters when the air is still, 
 
 From many a torrent rill 
 That winds unseen beneath the shaggy fell, 
 
 Track'd by the blue mist well: 
 Such sounds as make deep silence in the heart, 
 
 For Thought to do her part. 
 
 'Tis then we hear the voice of God within, 
 
 Pleading with care and sin: 
 " Child of my love ! how have I wearied thee? 
 
 " Why wilt thou err from me ? 
 " Have I not brought thee from the house of slaves, 
 
 u Parted the drowning waves, 
 " And set my saints before thee in the way, 
 
 " Lest thou should'st faint or stray? 
 
 " What? was the promise made to thee alone? 
 
 " Art thou th' excepted one? 
 " An heir of glory without grief or pain? 
 
 " O vision false and vain ! 
 " There lies thy cross; beneath it meekly bow; 
 
 " It fits thy stature now: 
 " Who scornful pass it with averted eye, 
 
 " 'Twill crush them by and by. 
 
 " Raise thy repining eyes, and take true measure 
 " Of thine eternal treasure; 
 
 18* 
 
210 Twentieth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 "The Father of thy Lord can grudge thee nought, 
 "The world for thee was bought, 
 
 "And as this landscape broad— earth, sea and sky,- 
 "All centres in thine eye, 
 
 " So all God does, if rightly understood, 
 " Shall work thy final good." 
 
 TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE RED BREAST IN SEPTEMBER. 
 
 The vision is yet for an appointed time ; but at the end it shall speak 
 and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come, it 
 will not tarry. Habakkuk ii. 3. [First Morning Lesson, Church of Eng- 
 land.] 
 
 [Grant, we beseech thee, merciful Lord, to thy faithful people, pardon 
 and peace; that they may be cleansed from all their sins, and serve 
 thee with a quiet mind, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 THE morning mist is clear'd away, 
 
 Yet still the face of heaven is gray, 
 Nor yet th' autumnal breeze has stirr'd the grove, 
 
 Faded yet full, a paler green 
 
 Skirts soberly the tranquil scene, 
 The red-breast warbles round this leafy cove. 
 
 Sweet messenger of " calm decay," 
 
 Saluting sorrow as you may, 
 As one still bent to find or make the best, 
 
 In thee, and in this quiet mead 
 
 The lesson of sweet peace I read, 
 Rather in all to be resig-n'd than blest. 
 
Twenty -first Sunday after Trinity. 211 
 
 'Tis a low chant, according well 
 
 With the soft solitary knell, 
 As homeward from some grave belov'd we turn, 
 
 Or by some holy death-bed dear, 
 
 Most welcome to the chasten'd ear 
 Of her whom heaven is teaching 1 how to mourn. 
 
 O cheerful tender strain ! the heart 
 
 That duly bears with you its part, 
 Singing so thankful to the dreary blast, 
 
 Though gone and spent its joyous prime, 
 
 And on the world's autumnal time, 
 'Mid wither'd hues and sere, its lot be cast: 
 
 That is the heart for thoughtful seer, 
 
 Watching, in trance nor dark nor clear,* 
 Th' appalling Future as it nearer draws: 
 
 His spirit calm'd the storm to meet, 
 
 Feeling the rock beneath his feet, 
 And tracing through the cloud th' eternal Cause. 
 
 That is the heart for watchman true 
 
 Waiting to see what God will do, 
 As o'er the Church the gathering twilight falls: 
 
 No more he strains his wistful eye, 
 
 If chance the golden hours be nigh, 
 By youthful Hope seen beaming round her walls, 
 
 Forc'd from his shadowy paradise, 
 His thoughts to Heaven the steadier rise: 
 There seek his answer when the world reproves: 
 
 * Zechariah xiv. 6. Tt shall come to pass in that day, that the night 
 shall not be clear nor dark. 
 
212 Twenty -first Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Contented in his darkling round, 
 If only he be faithful found, 
 When from the east th' eternal morning moves. 
 
 Note. The expression, " calm decay," is borrowed from a friend : by 
 whose kind permission the following stanzas are here inserted. 
 
 TO THE RED BREAST. 
 
 Unheard in summers flaring ray, 
 
 Pour forth thy notes, sweet singer, 
 
 Wooing the stillness of the autumn day: 
 Bid it a moment linger, 
 Nor fly 
 
 Too soon from winter's scowling eye. 
 
 The blackbird's song at eventide, 
 
 And hers, who gay ascends,* 
 Filling the heavens far and wide, 
 
 Are sweet. But none so blends, 
 As thine, 
 With calm decay, and peace divine. 
 
 * [The sky-lark.] 
 
213 
 
 TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE RULE OF CHRISTIAN FORGIVENESS. 
 
 Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? 
 St. Matthew xviii. 21, [Gospel for the Day] 
 
 ["Lord, we beseech thee to keep thy household the Church in continual 
 godliness; that, through thy protection, it may be free from all adver- 
 sities, and devoutly given to serve thee in good works, to the glory of 
 thy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Jlmen.] 
 
 WHAT liberty so glad and gay, 
 
 As where the mountain boy, 
 Reckless of regions far away, 
 
 A prisoner lives in joy? 
 
 The dreary sounds of crowded earth, 
 
 The cries of camp or town, 
 Never untun'd his lonely mirth, 
 
 Nor drew his visions down. 
 
 The snow-clad peaks of rosy light 
 
 That meet his morning view, 
 The thwarting cliffs that bound his sight, 
 
 They bound his fancy too. 
 
 Two ways alone his roving eye 
 
 For aye may onward go, 
 Or in the azure deep on high, 
 
 Or darksome mere below. 
 
214 Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity, 
 
 O blest restraint ! more blessed range ! 
 
 Too soon the happy child 
 His nook of homely thought will change 
 
 For life's seducing wild: 
 
 Too soon his alter'd day dreams show 
 This earth a boundless space 
 
 With sun-bright pleasures to and fro 
 Sporting in joyous race: 
 
 While of his narrowing heart each year, 
 Heaven less and less will fill, 
 
 Less keenly, through his grosser ear, 
 The tones of mercy thrill. 
 
 It must be so: else wherefore falls 
 The Saviour's voice unheard, 
 
 While from His pardoning Cross He calls, 
 " O spare as I have spar'd!" 
 
 By our own niggard rule we try 
 The hope to suppliants given; 
 
 We mete out love, as if our eye 
 Saw to the end of heaven. 
 
 How often to forgive, 
 How dearly to embrace thy foe, 
 
 Look where thou hop'st to live: 
 
 When thou hast told those isles of light, 
 
 And fancied all beyond, 
 Whatever owns, in depth or height, 
 
 Creation's wondrous bond; 
 
 Then in their solemn pageant learn 
 Sweet mercy's praise to see: 
 
 Their Lord resigned them all, to earn 
 The bliss of pardoning thee. 
 
215 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE FOREST LEAVES IN AUTUMN. 
 
 Wlio shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto 
 His glorious body, according to the working whereby He is able even 
 to subdue all things unto himself. Philippians iii. 21. [Epistle for the 
 Day.-] 
 
 [O God, our refuge and strength, who art the author of all godliness; 
 be read\, we beseech thee, to hear the devout prayers of thy Church; 
 and grant that those things which we ask faithfully, we may obtain 
 effectually, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.-] 
 
 RED o'er the forest peers the setting sun, 
 
 The line of yellow light dies fast away 
 That crown'd the eastern copse; and chill and dun 
 
 Falls on the moor the brief November day. 
 
 Now the tir'd hunter winds a parting note, 
 And Echo bids good-night from every glade; 
 
 Yet wait awhile, and see the calm leaves float 
 Each to his rest beneath their parent shade. 
 
 How like decaying life they seem to glide ! 
 
 And yet no second spring have they in store, 
 But where they fall forgotten to abide, 
 
 Is all their portion, and they ask no more. 
 
 Soon o'er their heads blithe April airs shall sing, 
 A thousand wild-flowers round them shall unfold, 
 
2 i 6 Twenty third Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 The green buds glisten in the dews of Spring, 
 And all be vernal rapture as of old. 
 
 Unconscious they in waste oblivion lie, 
 
 In all the world of busy life around 
 No thought of them; in all the bounteous sky 
 
 No drop, for them, of kindly influence found. 
 
 Man's portion is to die and rise again — 
 
 Yet he complains, while these unmurmuring part 
 
 With their sweet lives, as pure from sin and stain, 
 As his when Eden held his virgin heart. 
 
 And haply, half unblam'd his murmuring voice 
 Might sound in heaven, were all his second life 
 
 Only the first renew'd — the heathen's choice, 
 A round of listless joy and weary strife. 
 
 For dreary were this earth, if earth were all, 
 
 Though brighten'd oft by dear affection's kiss; — 
 
 Who for the spangles wears the funeral pall? 
 But catch a gleam beyond it, and 'tis bliss. 
 
 Heavy and dull this frame of limbs and heart, 
 Whether slow creeping on cold earth, or borne 
 
 On lofty steed, or loftier prow, we dart 
 
 O'er wave or field: yet breezes laugh to scorn. 
 
 Our puny speed, and birds, and clouds in heaven, 
 And fish, like living shafts that pierce the main, 
 
 And stars that shoot through freezing air at even — 
 Who but would follow, might he break his chain? 
 
 And thou shalt break it soon; the grovelling worm 
 Shall find his wings, and soar as fast and free 
 
 As his transfigur'd Lord with lightning form 
 And snowy vest — such grace He won for thee, 
 
Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity. 217 
 
 When from the grave he sprung at dawn of morn, 
 And led through boundless air thy conquering road, 
 
 Leaving a glorious track, where saints new-born 
 Might fearless follow to their blest abode, 
 
 But first, by many a stern and fiery blast 
 
 The world's rude furnace must thy blood refine, 
 
 And many a gale of keenest woe be pass'd, 
 Till every pulse beat true to airs divine, 
 
 Till every limb obey the mounting soul, 
 The mounting soul, the call by Jesus given. 
 
 He who the stormy heart can so control 
 
 The laggard body soon will waft to heaven. 
 
 TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 IMPERFECTION OF HUMAN SYMPATHY. 
 
 The heart knovveth his own bitterness, and a stranger doth not in- 
 termeddle with his joy. Proverbs xiv. 10. [First Evening Lesson, 
 Church of England.'] 
 
 [O Lord, we beseech thee, absolve thy people from their offences; 
 that through thy bountiful goodness, we may all be delivered from the 
 bands of those sins which by our frailty we have committed: grant 
 this, O heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ's sake, our blessed Lord and 
 Saviour. Amen.] 
 
 WHY should we faint and fear to live alone, 
 Since all alone, so Heaven has will'd, we die,* 
 
 * Je mourrai seul. Pascal. [The entire passage is as follows: 
 " Pour moi, je n'ai pu m"y arreter ni me reposer dans la societe de ces 
 pcrsonnes semblables a moi, niiserablesxomme moi. Je vois qu'ils ne 
 19 
 
218 Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, 
 Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh 1 ? 
 
 Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe 
 Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart, 
 
 Our eyes see all around in gloom or glow — 
 Hues of their own, fresh borrow'd from the heart. 
 
 And well it is for us our God should feel 
 Alone our secret throbbings: so our prayer 
 
 May readier spring to Heaven, nor spend its zeal 
 On cloud-born idols of this lower air. 
 
 For if one heart in perfect sympathy 
 
 Beat with another, answering love for love, 
 
 Weak mortals, all entranc'd, on earth would lie, 
 Nor listen for those purer strains above. 
 
 Or what if Heaven for once its searching light 
 Lent to some partial eye, disclosing all 
 
 The rude bad thoughts, that in our bosom's night 
 Wander at large, nor heed Love's gentle thrall? 
 
 Who would not shun the dreary uncouth place? 
 
 As if, fond leaning where her infant slept, 
 A mother's arm a serpent should embrace: 
 
 So might we friendless live, and die unwept. 
 
 Then keep the softening veil in mercy drawn, 
 Thou who canst love us, tho' Thou read us true; 
 
 As on the bosom of th' aerial lawn 
 
 Melts in dim haze each coarse ungentle hue. 
 
 m'aideroient pas a mourir, je mourrai seul; il faut done faire comme 
 si j'etais seul ; or, si j'etois seul je ne batirois point des maisons, je 
 ne m'embarrasserois point dans les occupations tumultuaires, je ne 
 chercherois 1' estime de personne; mais je tacherois settlement de de- 
 couvrir la verite." Pensces c. viii. sec. l.j 
 
Twenty -fourth Sunday after Trinity. 219 
 
 So too may soothing Hope thy leave enjoy 
 Sweet visions of long sever'd hearts to frame: 
 
 Though absence may impair, or cares annoy, 
 Some constant mind may draw us still the same. 
 
 We in dark dreams are tossing to and fro, 
 Pine with regret, or sicken with despair, 
 
 The while she bathes us in her own chaste glow, 
 And with our memory wings her own fond prayer. 
 
 bliss of child-like innocence, and love 
 
 Tried to old age! creative power to win, 
 And raise new worlds, where happy fancies rove, 
 
 Forgetting quite this grosser world of sin. 
 
 Bright are their dreams, because their thoughts are clear, 
 Their memory cheering: but the earth-stained spright, 
 
 Whose wakeful musings are of guilt and fear, 
 Must hover nearer earth, and less in light. 
 
 Farewell, for her, th' ideal scenes so fair — 
 
 Yet not farewell her hope, since Thou hast deign'd, 
 
 Creator of all hearts! to own and share 
 The woe of what Thou mad'st, and we have stain'd. 
 
 Thou know'st our bitterness — our joys are thine* — 
 No stranger Thou to all our wanderings wild: 
 
 Nor could we bear to think, how every line 
 Of us, thy darken'd likeness and defil'd, 
 
 Stands in full sunshine of thy piercing eye, 
 But that thou call'st us Brethren: sweet repose 
 
 Is in that word — the Lord who dwells on high 
 Knows all, yet loves us better than He knows. 
 
 * Psalm xxxi. 7. Thou hast known my soul in adversities. 
 
220 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 THE TWO RAINBOWS. 
 
 The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of 
 righteousness. Proverbs xvi. 31. [First Evening Lesson, Church o d 
 England.] 
 
 rstir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; 
 that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, niay by 
 thee be plenteously rewarded, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 THE bright hair'd morn is glowing 
 
 O'er emerald meadows gay, 
 With many a clear gem strewing 
 
 The early shepherd's way, 
 Ye gentle elves, by Fancy seen 
 
 Stealing away with night 
 To slumber in your leafy screen, 
 
 Tread more than airy light. 
 
 And see what joyous greeting 
 
 The sun through heaven has shed, 
 Though fast yon shower be fleeting, 
 
 His beams have faster sped. 
 For lo! above the western haze 
 
 High towers the rainbow arch 
 In solid span of purest rays: 
 
 How stately is its march! 
 
Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity. 221 
 
 Pride of the dewy morning-! 
 
 The swain's experienc'd eye 
 From thee takes timely warning,* 
 
 Nor trusts the gorgeous sky. 
 For well he knows, such dawnings gay 
 
 Bring noons of storm and shower, 
 And travellers linger on the way 
 
 Beside the sheltering bower. 
 
 Even so, in hope and trembling 
 
 Should watchful shepherd view 
 His little lambs assembling, 
 
 With glance both kind and true; 
 'Tis not the eye of keenest blaze, 
 
 Nor the quick-swelling breast 
 That soonest thrills at touch of praise — 
 
 These do not please him best. 
 
 But voices low and gentle, 
 
 And timid glances shy, 
 That seem for aid parental 
 
 To sue all wistfully, 
 Still pressing, longing to be right, 
 
 Yet fearing to be wrong — 
 In these the Pastor dares delight, 
 
 A lamb-like, Christ-like throng. 
 
 These in Life's distant even 
 
 Shall shine serenely bright, 
 As in th' autumnal heaven 
 
 Mild rainbow tints at night, 
 When the last shower is stealing down, 
 
 And ere they sink to rest, 
 The sun-beams weave a parting crown 
 
 For some sweet woodland nest. 
 
 * [The rainbow in the morning 
 Is the sailor's warning. Old proverb.] 
 
 19* 
 
222 Twenty -fifth Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 The promise of the morrow 
 
 Is glorious on that eve,* 
 Dear as the holy sorrow 
 
 When good men cease to live. 
 When brightening ere it die away 
 
 Mounts up their altar flame, 
 Still tending with intenser ray 
 
 To Heaven whence first it came. 
 
 Say not it dies, that glory, 
 
 'Tis caught unqueuch'd on high, 
 Those saint-like brows so hoary 
 
 Shall wear it in the sky. 
 No smile is like the smile of death, 
 
 When all good musings past 
 Rise wafted with the parting breath, 
 
 The sweetest thought the last. 
 
 SUNDAY NEXT BEFORE ADVENT. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION BEFORE ADVENT. 
 
 Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost. St. John 
 vi. 12. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 rati* nn we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; 
 
 thS Lv P'StSSSr mS"* forth the fruit of * ood 7*9* m / y by i 
 
 thee be plenteoiLly rewarded, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen] 
 
 WILL God indeed with fragments bear, 
 Snatch'd late from the decaying year] 
 Or can the Saviour's blood endear 
 
 * [The rainbow at night 
 
 Is the sailor's delight. Old proverb] 
 
Sunday next before Advent. 223 
 
 The dregs of a polluted life] 
 When down th' o'erwhelming current tost, 
 Just ere he sink forever lost, 
 The sailor's untried arms are cross'd 
 In agonizing prayer, will Ocean cease her strife? 
 
 Sighs that exhaust but not relieve, 
 Heart-rending sighs, O spare to heave 
 A bosom freshly taught to grieve 
 
 For lavish'd hours and love misspent ! 
 Now through her round of holy thought 
 The Church our annual steps has brought, 
 But we no holy fire have caught — 
 Back on the gaudy world our wilful eyes were bent. 
 
 Too soon th' ennobling carols, pour'd 
 To hymn the birth-night of the Lord,* 
 Which duteous memory should have stor'd. 
 
 For thankful echoing all the year — 
 Too soon those airs have pass'd away; 
 Nor long within the heart would stay 
 The silence of Christ's dying day, 7 
 Profan'd by worldly mirth, or scar'd by worldly fear. 
 
 Some strain of hope and victory 
 On Easter wings might lift us high; 
 A little while we sought the sky: 
 
 And when the Spirit's beacon fires f 
 On every hill began to blaze, 
 Lightening the world with glad amaze, 
 Who but must kindle while they gaze? 
 But faster than she soars, our earth-bound Fancy tires. 
 
 Nor yet for these, nor all the rites, 
 By which our Mother's voice invites 
 Our God to bless our home delights, 
 
 * [Christmas.] t r G ° 0, l Friday] j [Whitsunday j 
 
224 Sunday next before Advent, 
 
 And sweeten every secret tear: — 
 The funeral dirge, the marriage vow, 
 The hallow'd font where parents bow, 
 And now elate and trembling now 
 To the Redeemer's feet their new-found treasures bear:- 
 
 Not for the Pastor's gracious arm 
 Stretch'd out to bless — a Christian charm 
 To dull the shafts of worldly harm: — 
 Nor, sweetest, holiest, best of all, 
 For the dear feast of Jesus dying, 
 Upon that altar ever lying, 
 Where souls with sacred hunger sighing 
 Are call'd to sit and eat, while angels prostrate fall: — 
 
 No, not for each and all of these, 
 Have our frail spirits found their ease. 
 The gale that stirs th' autumnal trees 
 
 Seems tun'd as truly to our hearts 
 As when, twelve weary months ago, 
 'Twas moaning bleak, so high and low, 
 You would have thought Remorse and Woe 
 Had taught the innocent air their sadly thrilling parts. 
 
 Is it, CHRrsT's light is too divine, 
 We dare not hope like Him to shine? 
 But see, around His dazzling shrine 
 
 Earth's gems the fire of Heaven have caught; 
 Martyrs and saints— each glorious day 
 Dawning in order on our way- 
 Remind us, how our darksome clay 
 May keep th' ethereal warmth our new Creator brought. 
 
 These we have scorn'd, O false and frail ! 
 And now once more th' appalling tale, 
 How love divine may woo and fail, 
 
 Of our lost, year in heaven is told — 
 
Sunday next before Advent. 225 
 
 What if as far our life were past, 
 Our weeks all number'd to the last, 
 With time and hope behind us cast, 
 And all our work to do with palsied hands and cold? 
 
 O watch and pray ere Advent dawn ! 
 For thinner than the subtlest lawn 
 'Twixt thee and death the veil is drawn. 
 
 But Love too late can never glow: 
 The scatter'd fragments Love can glean, 
 Refine the dregs, and yield us clean 
 To regions where one thought serene 
 Breathes sweeter than whole years of sacrifice below. 
 
 ST. ANDREW'S DAY.* 
 
 [NOVEMBER 30.] 
 
 He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have 
 found the Messias; and he brought him unto Jesus. St. John i. 41, 42. 
 
 [Almighty God, who didst give such grace unto thy holy Apostle 
 Saint Andrew, that he readily obeyed the calling of thy Son Jesus 
 Christ, and followed him without delay; grant unto us all, that we, 
 being called by thy holy word, may forthwith give up ourselves obedi- 
 ently to fulfil thy holy commandments, through the same, Jesus Christ 
 our Lord. Amen ] 
 
 WHEN brothers part for manhood's race, 
 What gift may most endearing prove 
 
 * [St. Andrew was a native of Bethsaida, in Galilee. He was the 
 son of a fisherman named Jonas, and Hie brother of Simon, surnamed 
 Peter. He had been the disciple of John the Baptist, and was one of 
 the two to whom John pointed out the Saviour as " the Lamb of God, 
 who taketh away the sins of the world." It was his happiness to in- 
 
226 St. Andrew's Bay. 
 
 To keep fond memory in her place, 
 And certify a brother's love? 
 
 'Tis true, bright hours together told, 
 And blissful dreams in secret shar'd, 
 
 Serene or solemn, gay or bold, 
 Shall last in fancy unimpair'd. 
 
 Even round the death-bed of the good 
 Such dear remembrances will hover, 
 
 And haunt us with no vexing mood 
 When all the cares of earth are over. 
 
 But yet our craving spirits feel, 
 
 We shall live on, though Fancy die, 
 
 And seek a surer pledge — a seal 
 Of love to last eternally. 
 
 Who art thou, that wouldst grave thy name 
 Thus deeply in a brother's heart]* 
 
 Look on this saint, and learn to frame 
 Thy love-charm with true Christian art. 
 
 troduce his more illustrious brother, the apostle Peter, to the know- 
 ledge of Jesus: hence sometines called, in reference to Peter's emble- 
 matic name, " the rock before the rock " He was ordained an apostle 
 by our Lord. It is said that Scythia was chiefly the field of his 
 labours; and that the instrument of his martyrdom was a cross of a 
 peculiar form (X), known as St. Andrew's Cross, The Scotch, who 
 chose him as their patron Saint, had a tradition that his remains were 
 brought to St. Andrews, A.D. 368, and entombed there. The festival 
 of St. Andrew determines the beginning of the season of Advent. 
 (See note on Advent Sunday.) The honour of thus announcing, as it 
 were, the coming of the Lord, may have been assigued to him, says 
 Bishop Sparrow, because " it was he who first came to Christ, and fol- 
 lowed him before any of the other apostles."] 
 
 * [It is a beautiful circumstance that the two disciples who first 
 came to Jesus were brothers in the flesh, and that the one led the other 
 to him. The bond of brotherhood may well be close and holy. But 
 how much more so when, as here, nature is consecrated by grace!] 
 
St. Andrew's Day. 227 
 
 First seek Ihy Saviour out, and dwell 
 
 Beneath the shadow of his roof,* 
 Till thou have scann'd his features well, 
 
 And known Him for the Christ by proof; 
 
 Such proof as they are sure to find, 
 
 Who spend with him their happier days, 
 
 Clean hands, and a self-ruling- mind 
 Ever in tune for love and praise. 
 
 Then, potent with the spell of heaven, 
 Go, and thine erring brother gain,f 
 • Entice him home to be forgiven, 
 
 Till he, too, see his Saviour plain. 
 
 Or, if before thee in the race, 
 
 Urge him with thine advancing tread, 
 
 Till, like twin stars, with even pace, 
 Each lucid course be duly sped. 
 
 No fading frail memorial give 
 
 To soothe his soul when thou art gone, 
 
 But wreaths of hope for aye to live, 
 And thoughts of good together done. 
 
 That so, before the judgment-seat, 
 
 Though chang'd and glorified each face, 
 
 * [When Andrew and the other disciple to whom John spake, had 
 followed Jesus till they saw where he dwelt, they " abode with him 
 that day." The account which John had given of him made them in 
 earnest to know him, and they took the proper means, personal ac- 
 quaintance. They did not go, and look, and come away. They 
 "abode with him." Is it not universally in his sacrificial character, 
 as the Lamb of God, taking away sin, that the Saviour permanently 
 impresses the hearts of men, — draws them and keeps them?] 
 
 t [" He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We 
 have found the Messias; and he brought him to Jesus." His inter- 
 course with him whom John describes as the " Lamb of God," enabled 
 Andrew to recognize him as the Messias, the Christ, or Anointed.] 
 
228 St. Andrew's Bay. 
 
 Not unremember'd ye may meet 
 For endless apres to embrace.* 
 
 ST. THOMAS' DAY.f 
 
 [DECEMBER 21.]] 
 
 Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are 
 they that have not seen, and yet have believed. St. John xx.2y. [Gos- 
 pel for the Day'] 
 
 [Almighty and ever living God, who, for the greater confirmation of 
 the faith, didst suffer thy holy Apostle Thomas to be doubtful in thy 
 Son's resurrection ; grant us so perfectly, and without all doubt, to be- 
 lieve in thy Son Jesus Christ, that our faith in thy sight may never be 
 reproved. Hear us, O Lord, through the same Jesus Christ; to whom, 
 with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, now and for 
 evermore. Amen ] 
 
 WE were not by when Jesus earned 
 But round us, far and near, 
 
 * [There is here allusion made to that hope of recognition in a 
 future state in which many pious Christians not groundlcssly indulge. 
 Bishop iMant, in his li Happiness of the Blessed," has fully investigated 
 the subject, by the light of Scripture, and shown it to be at least pro- 
 bable. There is an able sermon, too, on this interesting subject, by 
 my long-loved friend, the Rev. Benjamin Dorr, rector of Trinity Church, 
 Utica. — Since the first edition, this sermon has been enlarged and pub- 
 lished in a neat little volume, entitled, "Recognition of Friends in 
 another World."] 
 
 t [Thomas, called also Didymus, the twin, was a fisherman of Gali- 
 lee. He is chiefly memorable for his strange incredulity, and its com- 
 plete conviction. He was an apostle of our Lord, and is said by 
 Origen to have laboured chiefly in Farthia. A race of Christians have 
 been found near the coast of Malabar, known as the "Christians of 
 St. Thomas," and claiming spiritual descent from him. See Dr. Bu- 
 chanan's very interesting " Christian Researches in India"'] 
 
 X St. John xx. 24. Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was 
 not with them when Jesus came. 
 
St. Thomas' Day. 229 
 
 We see his trophies, and his name 
 
 In choral echoes hear. 
 In a fair ground our lot is cast, 
 As in the solemn week that past, 
 While some might douht, but all ador'd,* 
 Ere the whole widow'd Church had seen her risen Lord. 
 
 Slowly, as then, His bounteous hand 
 
 The golden chain unwinds, 
 Drawing to Heaven with gentlest band 
 
 Wise hearts and loving minds. 
 Love sought him first — at dawn of mornf 
 From her sad couch she sprang forlorn, 
 She sought to weep with Thee alone, 
 And saw thine open grave, and knew that Thou wert gone. 
 
 Reason and Faith at once set out|: 
 
 To search the Saviour's tomb; 
 Faith faster runs, but waits without, 
 
 As fearing to presume, 
 Till Reason enter in, and trace 
 Christ's relics round the holy place — 
 " Here lay His limbs, and here His sacred head, 
 "And who was by, to make his new-forsaken bed"?" 
 
 Both wonder, one believes — but while 
 
 They muse on all at home, 
 No thought can tender love beguile 
 
 From Jesus' grave to roam. 
 
 * St. Matt, xxviii. 17. When they saw him, they worshipped him 
 but some doubted. 
 
 t St. Mary .Magdalen's visit to the sepulchre. 
 
 [" Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung, 
 Not she denied him with unholy tongue: 
 She, while apostles shrunk, could danger brave, 
 Last at his cross, and earliest at his grave." 
 
 Woman, a Poem, by Barret] 
 
 X St. Peter and St. John. 
 20 
 
230 St. Thomas' Day. 
 
 Weeping she stays till He appear — 
 Her witness first the Church must hear* — 
 All joy to souls that can rejoice 
 With her at earliest call of His dear gracious voice. 
 
 Joy too to those, who love to talk 
 
 In secret how He died, 
 Though with seal'd eyes awhile they walk, 
 
 Nor see Him at their side; 
 Most like the faithful pair are they,f 
 Who once to Emmaus took their way, 
 Half darkling, till their Master shed 
 His glory on their souls, made known in breaking bread. 
 
 Thus, ever brighter and more bright, 
 
 On those he came to save 
 The Lord of new-created light 
 
 Dawn'd gradual from the grave: 
 Till pass'd th' inquiring daylight hour, 
 And with clos'd door in silent bowerj: 
 The Church in anxious musing sate, 
 As one who for redemption still had long to wait. 
 
 Then, gliding through th' unopening door, 
 
 Smooth without step or sound, 
 " Peace to your souls," He said — no more — 
 
 They own him, kneeling round. 
 Eye, ear, and hand, and loving heart,§ 
 Body and soul in every part, 
 
 * [The first appearance of the risen Saviour was to her out of whom 
 he had cast seven devils. A touching circumstance, full of encourage- 
 ment, and beautifully illustrative of His tender love, who is not wil- 
 ling that any should perish, and desires the salvation even of the chief 
 of sinners.] 
 
 t [St. Luke xxiv. 13—32] 
 
 j [St. John xx. 19. Then the same day at evening, heing the first 
 day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were 
 assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, 
 and said unto them, Peace be unto you.] 
 
 § [He showed unto them his hands and his side.] 
 
St. ITiomas' Day. 231 
 
 Successive made His witnesses that hour, 
 Cease not in all the world to show his saving power. 
 
 Is there, on earth, a spirit frail. 
 Who fears to take their word, 
 Scarce daring, through the twilight pale, 
 
 To think he sees the Lord? 
 With eyes too tremblingly awake 
 To bear with dimness for His sake? 
 Read and confess the hand divine 
 That drew thy likeness here so true in every line. 
 
 For all thy rankling doubts so sore, 
 
 Lore thou thy Saviour still, 
 Him for thy Lord and God adore,* 
 
 And ever do His will. 
 Though vexing thoughts may seem to last, 
 Let not thy soul be quite o'ercast; — 
 Soon will He show thee all His wounds, and say. 
 "Long have I known thy name| — know thou my face 
 
 M alwav." 
 
 * [The unbelief of Thomas. r>r. as the Collect expresses it. his " doubt- 
 fulness in Christ's resurrection" reino'ed. most naturally carries him 
 to the fullest expression of bis conviction not only of that fact, but of 
 his full divinity, •■ .My Lord, and my God ''* — Is not this ardour of con- 
 viction very characteristic in him who before had said. " Let us also 
 go. that we may die with him?"' St. John xi. 16.] 
 
 - I Exodus xxxiii. IT. God says to Moses. " I know thee by name:* 1 
 meaning, " I bear especial favour towards thee." Thus our Saviour 
 speaks to 5t. Thomas by name in the place here referred to. 
 
232 
 
 THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL.* 
 
 [JANUARY 25.] 
 
 And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, 
 Saul, why persecuted thou me? And he said. Who art thou, Lord? 
 And the Lord said, I am Jesus whom thou persecuted. Acts ix. 4, 5. 
 [Scripture for the Epistle.'] 
 
 [O God, who, through the preaching of the blessed Apostle Saint 
 Paul, hast caused the light of the gospel to shine throughout the world ; 
 grant, we beseech thee, that we, having his wonderful conversion In 
 remembrance, may shuw forth our thankfulness unto thee for the 
 same, by following the holy doctrine which he taught, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.} 
 
 THE mid day sun, with fiercest glare, 
 Broods o'er the hazy, twinkling air; 
 Along the level sand 
 
 * [Paul, whose name was Saul, was a Jew of Tarsus in Cilicia. He 
 was instructed in all the learning of his nation by the celebrated Ga- 
 maliel. In accordance, however, with Jewish usages, he learned the 
 trade of a tent maker. Being a great zealot for the law, he exerted 
 himself iii every way to oppose Christianity, and destroy its professors. 
 It was on a journey of persecution to Damascus, that he was suddenly 
 arrested by a lisjht from heaven, and miraculously converted to the 
 < hristian faith by the voice of the Lord Jesus himself. At the same 
 time he was called to be an Apostle, and sent especially to the Gen- 
 tiles. After great labours and penis, in which he planted many 
 churches, and wrote fourteen epistles, he suffered martyrdom at Rome, 
 under Nero, A.D f)8. The festival appointed in his honour commemo- 
 rates, not, as usual, his death, but his conversion. The argument for 
 the truth of Christianity from this event, has been most admirably 
 stated by Lord Lyttleton.] 
 
The Conversion of St. Paul. 233 
 
 The palm-tree's shade unwavering lies, 
 Just as thy towers, Damascus, rise 
 To greet yon wearied band. 
 
 The leader of that martial crew 
 Seems bent some mighty deed to do, 
 
 So steadily he speeds, 
 With lips firm clos'd and fixed eye, 
 Like warrior when the fight is nigh, 
 
 Nor talk nor landscape heeds. 
 
 What sudden blaze is round him pour'd, 
 As though all Heaven's refulgent hoard 
 
 In one rich glory shone] 
 One moment — and to earth he falls: 
 What voice his inmost heart .appals] — 
 
 Voice heard by him alone. 
 
 For to the rest both words and form 
 Seem lost in lightning and in storm, 
 
 While Saul, in wakeful trance, 
 Sees deep within that dazzling field 
 His persecuted Lord reveal'd 
 
 With keen yet pitying glance: 
 
 And hears the meek upbraiding call 
 As gently on his spirit fall, 
 
 As if th' Almighty Son 
 Were prisoner yet in this dark earth, 
 Nor had proclaim'd his royal birth, 
 
 Nor his great power begun. 
 
 " Ah wherefore persecut'st thou me?" 
 He heard and saw, and sought to free 
 
 His strain'd eye from the sight: 
 But. Heaven's high magic bound it there, 
 Still gazing, though untaught to bear 
 
 Th' insufferable light. 
 20* 
 
234 The Conversion of St. Paul. 
 
 "Who art thou, Lord 1 ?" he falters forth:— 
 So shall sin ask of heaven and earth 
 
 At the last awful day. 
 " When did we see thee suffering nigh,* 
 "And pass'd thee with unheeding eye"? 
 
 " Great God of judgment, say!" 
 
 Ah! little dream our listless eyes 
 What glorious presence they despise. 
 
 While, in our noon of life, 
 To power or fame we rudely press. — 
 Christ is at hand, to scorn or bless, 
 
 Christ suffers in our strife. 
 
 And though heaven gate long since have clos'd, 
 And our dear Lord in bliss repos'd 
 
 High above mortal ken, 
 To every ear in every land 
 (Though meek ears only understand)f 
 
 He speaks as He did then. 
 
 "Ah wherefore persecute ye mel 
 "'Tis hard, ye so in love should be:}: 
 
 " W T ith your own endless woe. 
 "Know, though at God's right hand I live, 
 "I feel each wound ye reckless give 
 
 " To the least saint below. 
 
 * St. Matthew xxv. 44. 
 
 t [Is it not to meekness, as the fruit of faith, that the richest en- 
 couragements of the Scripture are given? " The meek will he guide in 
 judgment, and the meek will he teach his way." The same sentiment 
 is embodied in the promise of the same Psalm (25), " Tin- secret of the 
 Lord is with them lhat fear him." It is the meek and contrite spirit 
 which is described by Isaiah as trembling at God's word. And is not 
 the spirit of meekness the spirit of that precious text, "If any man 
 will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God?" 
 At least it may be said, that meekness is eminently the element of 
 Christian discipleship] 
 
 X [" It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks" — resistance to the 
 will of God is self-destruction. The figure is taken from the Eastern 
 mode of driving oxen with a goad, against which the restive animal 
 kicks back, and hurts himself.] 
 
The Conversion of St. Paul. 235 
 
 " T in your care my brethren left,* 
 " Not willing ye should be bereft 
 
 " Of waiting on your Lord. 
 " The meanest offering ye can make — 
 "A drop of water — for love's sake,f 
 
 " In Heaven, be sure, is stor'd." 
 
 O by those gentle tones and dear, 
 When Thou hast stay'd our wild career, 
 
 Thou only hope of souls, 
 Ne'er let us cast one look behind, 
 But in the thought of Jesus find 
 
 What every thought controls. 
 
 As to thy last Apostle's heart 
 
 Thy lightning glance did then impart 
 
 Zeal's never-dying fire, 
 So teach us on thy shrine to lay 
 Our hearts, and let them day by day 
 
 Intenser blaze and higher. 
 
 And as each mild and winning note 
 (Like pulses that round harp-strings float, 
 
 When the full strain is o'er) 
 Left lingering on his inward ear 
 Music, that taught, as death drew near, 
 
 Love's lesson more and more: 
 
 So, as we walk our earthly round, 
 Still may the echo of that sound 
 
 Be in our memory stor'd: 
 "Christians! behold your happy state: 
 " Christ is in these, who round you wait; 
 
 " Make much of your dear Lord:" 
 
 * [" The poor ye havn always with you."] 
 t S'. .Vatthew x. 4-2. 
 
236 
 
 THE PURIFICATION.* 
 
 [FEBRUARY 2.] 
 
 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 
 
 St. Matthew v. 8. 
 
 [Almighty and everliving God, we humbly beseech thy Majesty, that 
 as thy only begotten Son was this day presented in the Temple in sub- 
 stance of our flesh; so we may be presented unto thee with pure and 
 clean hearts, by the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 BLESS'D are the pure in heart, 
 For they shall see our God, 
 The secret of the Lord is theirs, 
 Their soul is Christ's abode. 
 
 * [This is a double festival. It commemorates the offering under 
 the law made by the blessed mother, and the presentation, in agree- 
 ment with the provision of the same law, of the incarnate Son, in the 
 temple of his Father. The narrative, as it is recorded by St. Luke i. 
 22— 39, needs no explanation, and can receive no additional interest. 
 In the Book of Common Prayer, the name of the festival is more fully 
 descriptive of its objects, — "The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, 
 commonly called the Purification of Saint Mary the Virgin." It is 
 also known in England as "Candlemas day," because formerly at its 
 celebration candles were lighted in the Churches. " We carry lights in 
 our hands," says a writer of the twelfth century, quoted by Bishop 
 Sparrow, " first, to signify that our light should shine before men; 
 secondly, this we do this day especially in memory of the wise virgins, 
 of whom this blessed virgin is the chief, who went to meet their Lord 
 with their lamps lighted and burning." But a better reason is found 
 in the description given of our Lord on this occasion, by good old Si- 
 meon, as "a light to lighten the Gentiles." The practice was inter- 
 dicted in 1348, by the order of Archbishop Cranmer.] 
 
The Purification. 237 
 
 Might mortal thought presume 
 To guess an angel's lay, 
 Such are the notes that echo through 
 The courts of Heaven to-day. 
 
 Such the triumphal hymns 
 On Sion's Prince that wait, 
 In high procession passing on 
 Towards His temple-gate. 
 
 Give ear, ye kings — bow down, 
 Ye rulers of the earth — 
 This, this is He; your Priest by grace, 
 Your God and King by birth. 
 
 No pomp of earthly guards 
 Attends with sword and spear, 
 And all-defying, dauntless look, 
 Their monarch's way to clear: 
 
 Yet are there more with him 
 Than all that are with you — 
 The armies of the highest Heaven, 
 All righteous, good, and true. 
 
 Spotless their robes and pure, 
 Dipp'd in the sea of light, 
 That hides the unapproached shrine 
 From men's and angels' sight. 
 
 His throne, thy bosom blest, 
 O Mother undehTd— 
 That throne, if aught beneath the skies, 
 Beseems the sinless child. 
 
 Lost in high thoughts, " whose son 
 " The wondrous Babe might prove," 
 
238 The Purification. 
 
 Her guileless husband walks beside, 
 Bearing the hallow'd dove;* 
 
 Meet emblem of His vow, 
 Who, on this happy day, 
 His dove-like soul — best sacrifice — 
 Did on God's altar lay. 
 
 But who is he, by yearsf 
 Bow'd, but erect in heart, 
 Whose prayers are struggling with his tears'? 
 " Lord, let me now depart. 
 
 " Now hath thy servant seen 
 "Thy saving health, O Lord: 
 " 'Tis time that I depart in peace, 
 " According to thy word." 
 
 Yet swells the pomp: one more 
 Comes forth to bless her God: 
 Full fourscore years, meek widow, she£ 
 Her heaven-ward way hath trod. 
 
 She who to earthly joys 
 So long had given farewell, 
 Now sees, unlook'd for, Heaven on earth, 
 Christ in His Israel. 
 
 Wide open from that hour 
 The temple-gates are set, 
 
 * [This was the offering permitted by the law to the poor. " And if 
 she be not able to bring a lamb, then she shall bring two turtle-doves."' 
 Leviticus xii. 8. So did he, who was rich, for our sakes become poor.J 
 
 f [Simeon, a man just and devout, who waited for the consolation 
 of Israel.] 
 
 X [Anna, a prophetess, a widow of about fourscore and four years, 
 which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and 
 prayers night and day. Such as these two devout and holy persons are 
 they to whom, in all ages, the Lord's Christ has been revealed ] 
 
The Purification. 239 
 
 And still the saints rejoicing there 
 The holy Child have met. 
 
 Now count his train to-day, 
 And who may meet him, learn: 
 Him child-like sires, meek maidens find, 
 Where pride can nought discern. 
 
 Still to the lowly soul 
 He doth himself impart, 
 And for His cradle and His throne 
 Chooseth the pure in heart.* 
 
 ST. MATTHIAS' DAY.t 
 
 [FEBRUARY 24.] 
 
 [O Almighty God, who into the place of the traitor Judas didst 
 choose thy faithful servant Matthias, to be of the number of the twelve 
 apostles; grant that thy Church, being always preserved from false 
 apostles, may be ordered and guided by faithful and true Pastors, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 WHO is God's chosen priest/? 
 He, who on Christ stands waiting day and night, 
 
 * [There are more senses than one in which the blessedness of see- 
 ing God belongs to the pure in heart. To them it is given to under- 
 stnn'l his will here, as hereafter to know even as they are known.] 
 
 ■f [St. Matthias, probably of the seventy, was chosen under the divine 
 direction, to supply the vacant apostleship of Judas, who, " by trans- 
 gression, fell." It is remarkable that this event, as St. Peter plainly 
 showed (Acts i. 20), was the subject of express prophecy.] 
 
240 St. Matthias' Day. 
 
 Who trac'd His holy steps, nor ever ceas'd 
 From Jordan banks to Bethphage height: 
 
 Who hath learn' d lowliness 
 From his Lord's cradle, patience from his cross; 
 Whom poor men's eyes and hearts consent to bless; 
 To whom, for Christ, the world is loss; 
 
 Who both in agony 
 Hath seen Him and in glory; and in both 
 Own'd Him divine, and yielded, nothing loth, 
 Body and soul, to live and die, 
 
 In witness of his Lord, 
 In humble following of his Saviour dear: 
 This is the man to wield th' unearthly sword, 
 Warring unharm'd with sin and fear. 
 
 But who can e'er suffice* — 
 What mortal — for this more than angel's task, 
 Winning or losing souls, Thy life-blood's price 1 ? 
 The gift were too divine to ask, 
 
 But Thou hast made it sure 
 By Thy dear promise to Thy Church and Bride, 
 That Thou, on earth, would'st aye with her endure, 
 Till earth to Heaven be purified. f 
 
 Thou art her only spouse, 
 Whose arm supports her, on whose faithful breast 
 Her persecuted head she meekly bows, 
 Sure pledge of her eternal rest. 
 
 Thou, her unerring guide, 
 Stayest her fainting steps along the wild; 
 
 * [Who is sufficient for these things? 2 Corinthians ii. 16.] 
 t \Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. St. 
 Matthew xxviii. 20. j 
 
St. Matthias* Day. 241 
 
 Thy mark is on the bowers of Inst and pride, 
 That she may pass them undefil'd. 
 
 Who then, uncall'd by Thee, 
 Dare touch thy spouse, thy very self below? 
 Or who dare count him summon'd worthily, 
 Except thine hand and seal he show? 
 
 Where can thy seal be found, 
 But on the chosen seed, from age to age 
 By thine anointed heralds duly crown'd, 
 As kings and priests thy war to wage]* 
 
 Then fearless walk we forth, 
 Yet full of trembling, Messengers' of God: 
 Our warrant sure, but doubting of our worth, 
 By our own shame alike and glory aw'd. 
 
 Dread Searcher of the hearts, 
 Thou who didst seal by thy descending Dove 
 Thy servant's choice, O help us in our parts, 
 
 Else helpless found, to learn and teach thy love. 
 
 * [This is a pregnant question. The ministers of Christ either re- 
 present him, or act in their own name. If the latter, what authority 
 have they more than other men? Tf the former, where is the evidence 
 of their authority to represent Christ? That he sent the apostles in 
 his own name is evident. That they in like manner sent others is 
 evident. That from the apostles' times the sacred chain has never yet 
 been broken is evident. Where shall the seal be looked for then, but 
 among them who, from age to age, have still been sent by those whom 
 Christ sent, as the Father first sent him? What warrant surer need 
 there be than theirs, which, issued at the first by Christ himself, has 
 since been handed down, from hand to hand, as duly and as certainly 
 as the inspired record of our faith?] 
 
 21 
 
242 
 
 THE ANNUNCIATION OF THE BLESSED 
 VIRGIN MARY.* 
 
 [march 25.] 
 
 And the Angel came into her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly 
 favoured, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women. St. 
 Luke i. 28. [Gospel for the Day.'] 
 
 [We beseech thee, O Lord, pour thy grace into our hearts; that as 
 we have known the incarnation of thy Son Jesus Christ by the mes- 
 sage of an angel ; so by his cross and passion we may be brought unto 
 the glory of his resurrection through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Amen.'] 
 
 OH Thou who deign'st to sympathize 
 With all our frail and fleshly ties, 
 
 Maker, yet Brother dear, 
 Forgive the too presumptuous thought, 
 If, calming- wayward grief, I sought 
 
 To gaze on Thee too near. 
 
 Yet sure 'twas not presumption, Lord, 
 'Twas thine own comfortable word 
 
 That made the lesson known: 
 Of all the dearest bonds we prove, 
 Thou countest sons' and mothers' love 
 
 Most sacred, most thine own. 
 
 * [This festival, frequently denominated Lady Day, commemorates 
 the annunciation, or declaration made by the angel Gabriel to the 
 Virgin Mary, that she should become, by the overshadowing of the 
 Holy Ghost, the mother of our Lord Jesus Christ j 
 
The Annunciation. 243 
 
 When wandering- here a little span, 
 Thou took'st on Thee to rescue man, 
 
 Thou hadst no earthly sire: 
 That wedded love we prize so dear, 
 As if our heaven and home were here, 
 
 It lit in Thee no fire. 
 
 On no sweet sister's faithful breast 
 Wouldst thou thine aching forehead rest, 
 
 On no kind brother lean: 
 But who, O perfect filial heart, 
 E'er did like Thee a true son's part, 
 
 Endearing, firm, serene] 
 
 Thou wept'st, meek maiden, mother mild, 
 Thou wept'st upon thy sinless child, 
 
 Thy very heart was riven: 
 And yet, what mourning matron here 
 Would deem thy sorrows bought too dear 
 
 By all on this side heaven! 
 
 A son that never did amiss, 
 
 That never sham'd his mother's kiss, 
 
 Nor cross'd her fondest prayer: 
 Even from the tree he deign'd to bow 
 For her his agonized brow, 
 
 Her, his sole earthly care.* 
 
 Ave Maria! blessed Maid! 
 Lily of Eden's fragrant shade, 
 Who can express the love 
 
 * [There is no passage in the whole Fcripture of deeper and more 
 touching pathos than that which records tiiL- Saviour's commendation 
 of his mother to the beloved disciple. " When Jesus, therefore, saw 
 his mother and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith unto 
 his mother, Woman, behold thy Son. Then saith he to the disciple, 
 Behold thy mother; and from that hour that disciple took her to his 
 own home." St. John xix. 'i(i, '<7.j 
 
244 The Annunciation. 
 
 That nurtur'd thee so pure and sweet, 
 Making thy heart a shelter meet 
 For Jesus' holy Dove? 
 
 Ave Maria! Mother blest, 
 
 To whom caressing and caress'd, 
 
 Clings the Eternal child; 
 Favour'd beyond Archangel's dream, 
 When first on thee with tenderest gleam 
 
 Thy new-born Saviour smil'd: — 
 
 Ave Maria! Thou whose name 
 All but adoring love may claim,* 
 
 Yet may we reach thy shrine; 
 For He, thy Son and Saviour, vows 
 To crown all lowly lofty brows 
 
 With love and joy like thine. 
 
 Bless'd is the womb that bare Him — bless'df 
 The bosom where his lips were press'd, 
 
 * [The Church in this, as in all other things, follows closely after the 
 Scriptures. The mother of our Lord she regards and honours as 
 " blessed among women ;" but she pays her no adoration, and raises 
 her into no competition with the " one mediator between God and 
 man." So Bishop Mant,— 
 
 "Blest among women is thy lot: 
 But higher meed we yield thee not, 
 .Nor more than woman's name. 
 
 " Nor solemn ' Hail' to thee we pay 
 Nor prayer to thee for mercy pray, 
 
 Nor hymn of glory raise; 
 Nor thine we deem in God's high throne, 
 Nor thine the birth-right of thy Son 
 
 The Mediator's praise. 
 
 " Mother of Jesus, Parent dear! 
 
 If aught of earthly thou couldst hear, 
 
 If aught of human see; 
 What pangs thy humble heart must wring, 
 To know thy Saviour, Lord and King, 
 
 Dishonoured thus for thee!"] 
 t St. Luke xi. 27, 28. 
 
The Annunciation. 245 
 
 But rather bless'd are they 
 Who hear his word and keep it well, 
 The living- homes where Christ shall dwell, 
 
 And never pass away. 
 
 ST. MARK'S DAY.* 
 
 25,] 
 
 And the contention was so sharp between them, that they departed 
 asunder the one from the other. Acts xv. 39. 
 
 Compare 2 Timothy iv. ]]. Take Mark, and bring him with thee, 
 for he is profitable to me for the ministry. 
 
 [O Almighty God, who hast instructed thy Holy Church with the 
 heavenly doctrine of thy Evangelist Saint Mark; give us grace, that 
 being not like children carried away with every blast of vain doctrine, 
 we may be established in the truth of the holy Gospel, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord, Amen.] 
 
 OH! who shall dare in this frail scene 
 On holiest happiest thoughts to lean, 
 
 On Friendship, Kindred, or on Love? 
 Since not Apostles' hands can clasp 
 Each other in so firm a grasp, 
 
 But they shall change and variance prove. 
 
 Yet deem not, on such parting sad 
 Shall dawn no welcome dear and glad: 
 
 * [St. Mark is one of the two who are commemorated by the Church 
 as Evangelists; he having written one of the four Gospels though not 
 called to be an apostle, lie was the companion, however, of Paul and 
 Barnabas and Peter, with whom he preached the Gospel. He was the 
 sister's son of Barnabas, his mother being that Mary to whose house 
 at Jerusalem the disciples much resorted (Acts xii. 12). He is com- 
 monly known in Scripture as John Mark, and is declared by Eusebius 
 to have been the first bishop of Alexandria] 
 
 21* 
 
246 St. MarVs Day. 
 
 Divided in their earthly race, 
 Together at the glorious goal, 
 Each leading many a rescu'd soul, 
 
 The faithful champions shall embrace. 
 
 For even as those mysterious Four, 
 Who the bright whirling wheels upbore 
 
 By Chebar in the fiery blast,* 
 So, on their tasks of love and praise 
 The saints of God their several ways 
 
 Right onward speed, yet join at last.f 
 
 And sometimes even beneath the moon 
 The Saviour gives a gracious boon, 
 
 When reconciled Christians meet, 
 And face to face, and heart to heart, 
 High thoughts of holy love impart 
 
 In silence meek, or converse sweet. 
 
 Companion of the Saints! 'twas thine 
 To taste that drop of peace divine, 
 
 When the great soldier of thy Lord 
 Call'd thee to take his last farewell, % 
 Teaching the Church with joy to tell 
 
 The story of your love restor'd. 
 
 * Ezekiel i. 9. They turned not when they went — they went every 
 one straight forward. 
 
 t [The whole passage in Ezekiel is most glorious and majestic. The 
 paraphrase here used of the Scriptural phrase "straight forward" is 
 Miltonic, — 
 
 " Yet, I argue not 
 
 Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope; but still bear up, and steer 
 Right onward." 
 
 Sonnet to Cyriac Skinner.] 
 
 % [Ft is delightful to see that as the first of the two texts quoted as 
 a motto to these verses, exhibits the apostles as men in their conten- 
 tion, the second represents them as Christian men in their reconcilia- 
 tion. Of the same Mark, St. Paul elsewhere speaks, as being with 
 him in his imprisonment at Rome, and being a "comfort" to him. Col. 
 iv. Jl.J 
 
St. Mark's Day. 247 
 
 O then the glory and the bliss, 
 When all that pain'd or seetn'd amiss 
 
 Shall melt with earth and sin away! 
 "When saints beneath their Saviour's eye, 
 Fill'd with each other's company, 
 
 Shall spend in love the eternal day! 
 
 ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES.* 
 
 [may 1.] 
 
 Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted: but the 
 rich, in that he is made low. St. James i. 9, 10. [Epistle for the Day.] 
 
 [O Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life; grant us 
 perfectly to know thy Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth and 
 the life; that following the steps of thy Holy Apostles. Saint Philip 
 and Saint James, we may steadfastly walk in the way that leadeth to 
 eternal life, through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 DEAR is the morning (rale of spring, 
 
 And dear th' autumnal eve; 
 But few delights can summer bring 
 
 A Poet's crown to weave. 
 
 Her bowers are mute, her fountains dry, 
 And ever Fancy's wing 
 
 * [Philip, a fisherman of Bethsaida. the city of Andrew and Peter, 
 was the first disciple whom our Saviour called, and was numbered 
 with the twelve Apostles. James, also one of the twelve, is called in 
 Scripture the son of Alpheus, or Cleophas, and also the brother of our 
 Lord— that is, his near kinsman, their mothers being sisters. He is 
 called James the less (either in reference to his stature, or his age. or 
 perhaps his inferior prominence in the Gospel), to distinguish him from 
 James the greater, the son of Zebedee. He was also surnamed the 
 Just. He wrote the general Epistle which bears his name, and was 
 the first Bishop of Jerusalem.] 
 
248 St. Philip and St. James. 
 
 Speeds from beneath her cloudless sky, 
 To autumn or to spring. 
 
 Sweet is the infant's waking smile, 
 And sweet the old man's rest — 
 
 But middle age by no fond wile, 
 No soothing calm is blest. 
 
 Still in the world's hot restless gleam 
 She plies her weary task, 
 
 While vainly for some pleasant dream 
 Her wandering glances ask. — 
 
 O shame upon thee, listless heart, 
 
 So sad a sigh to heave, 
 As if thy Saviour had no part 
 
 In thoughts, that make thee grieve. 
 
 As if along his lonesome way 
 He had not borne for thee 
 
 Sad languors through the summer day, 
 Storms on the wintry sea. 
 
 Youth's lightning flash of joy secure 
 Pass'd seldom o'er His spright, — 
 
 A well of serious thought and pure, 
 Too deep for earthly light. 
 
 No spring was His — no fairy gleam — 
 
 For He by trial knew 
 How cold and bare what mortals dream, 
 
 To worlds where all is true.* 
 
 Then grudge not thou the anguish keen 
 Which makes thee like thy Lord, 
 
 And learn to quit with eye serene 
 Thy youth's ideal hoard. 
 
 * [To, compar<dwith.\ 
 
St. Philip and St. James. 249 
 
 Thy treasur'd hopes and raptures high — 
 
 Unmurmuring' let them go, 
 Nor grieve the bliss should quickly fly 
 
 Which Christ disdain'd to know. 
 
 Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon; 
 
 The pure, calm hope be thine, 
 Which brightens, like the eastern moon, 
 
 As day's wild lights decline. 
 
 Thus souls, by nature pitch'd too high, 
 
 By sufferings plung'd too low, 
 Meet in the Church's middle sky, 
 
 Half way 'twixt joy and woe, 
 
 To practise there the soothing lay 
 
 That sorrow best relieves: 
 Thankful for all God takes away, 
 
 Humbled by all He gives. 
 
250 
 
 ST. BARNABAS.* 
 
 [JUNE 11.] 
 
 The Son of consolation, a Levile. 
 
 Acts iv. 36. 
 
 [O Lord God Almighty, who didst endure thy holy Apostle Barnabas 
 with singular gifts of the Holy Ghost; leave us not, we beseech thee, 
 destitute of thy manifold gifts, nor yet of grace to use them alway to 
 thy honour and glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen ] 
 
 THE world's a room of sickness, where each heart 
 
 Knows its own anguish and unrest; 
 The truest wisdom there, and noblest art, 
 
 Is his, who skills of comfort best; 
 Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone 
 Enfeebled spirits own, 
 And love to raise the languid eye, 
 When, like an angel's wing, they feel him fleeting by: — 
 
 Feel only — for in silence gently gliding 
 Fain would he shun both ear and sight, 
 
 'Twixt Prayer and watchful Love his heart dividing, 
 A nursing father day and night.f 
 
 * [Joses, afterwards called Barnabas, was a Jew of Cyprus. From 
 the sale of his estates, and contribution of the value, for the relief of 
 the poor, at the time of his conversion to the Christian faith, he re- 
 ceived the latter name, which signifies " son of consolation." He is 
 called in Scripture an Apostle, though not one of the twelve, and was 
 much associated with St. Paul in the work of edifying the Church J 
 
 t [Can there be imagined a delineation more delightful than this of 
 the pastoral visitation of the sick?] 
 
St. Barnabas. 251 
 
 Such were the tender arms, where cradled lay, 
 In her sweet natal day, 
 The Church of Jesus; such the love 
 He to his chosen taught for His dear widow'd Dove. 
 
 Warm'd underneath the Comforter's safe wing 
 
 They spread th' endearing warmth around: 
 Mourners, speed here your broken hearts to bring, 
 
 Here healing dews and balms abound: 
 Here are soft hands that cannot bless in vain, 
 By trial taught your pain: 
 Here loving hearts, that daily know 
 The heavenly consolations they on you bestow. 
 
 Sweet thoughts are theirs, that breathe serenest calms, 
 
 Of holy offerings timely paid,* 
 Of fire from Heaven to bless their votive alms 
 
 And passions on God's altar laid. 
 The world to them is clos'd, and now they shine 
 With rays of love divine, 
 Through darkest nooks of this dull earth 
 Pouring, in showery times, their glow of " quiet mirth." 
 
 New hearts before their Saviour's feet to lay, 
 
 This is their first their dearest joy: 
 Their next, from heart to heart to clear the way,f 
 
 For mutual love without alloy: 
 Never so blest, as when in Jesus' roll 
 They write some hero-soul, 
 More pleas'd upon his brightening road 
 To wait, than if their owu with all his radiance glow'd. 
 
 * Acts jv 37. Having land, lie sold it, and brought the money, and 
 laid it at the Apostles' feet. 
 
 t Acts ix. 27. Barnabas took him, and brought him (Saul) to the 
 Apostles. [It is said that Barnabas and Saul were fellow-disciples of 
 Gamaliel, and hence their acquaintance.] 
 
252 St, Barnabas. 
 
 O happy spirits, mark'd by God and man 
 
 Their messages of love to bear,* 1 
 What though long since in Heaven your brows began 
 
 The genial amarant wreath to wear, 
 And in th' eternal leisure of calm love 
 Ye banquet there above, 
 Yet in your sympathetic heart 
 We and our earthly griefs may ask and hope a part. 
 
 Comfort's true sons! amid the thoughts of down 
 
 That strew your pillow of repose, 
 Sure, 'tis one joy to muse, how ye unknown 
 
 By sweet remembrance soothe our woes, 
 
 And how the spark ye lit, of heavenly cheer, 
 
 Lives in our embers here, 
 
 Where'er the Cross is born with smiles, 
 
 Or lighten'd secretly by Love's endearing wiles: 
 
 Where'er one Levite in the temple keeps 
 The watch-fire of his midnight prayer, 
 Or issuing thence, the eyes of mourners steeps 
 
 In heavenly balm, fresh gather'd there; 
 Thus saints, that seem to die in earth's rude strife, 
 Only win double life: 
 They have but left our weary ways 
 To live in memory here, in heaven by love and praise. 
 
 * Acts xi. 22 ; xiii. 2. 
 
253 
 
 ST. JOHN BAPTIST'S DAY.* 
 
 [jUNE 24.] 
 
 Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet, before the great and terri- 
 ble day of the Lord: and he shall turn the heart of the fathers unto 
 the children, and the heart of the children to the fathers. Malachi iv. 
 5, 6. [First Evening Lesson.] 
 
 [Almighty God, by whose providence thy servant John Baptist was 
 wonderfully born, and sent to prepare the vyay of thy Son our Saviour, 
 by preaching repentance ; make us so to follow his doctrine and holy 
 life, that we may truly repent according to his preaching; and after 
 his example constantly speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and pa- 
 tiently suffer for the truth's sake through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 Jlmen.~\ 
 
 TWICE in her season of decay 
 The fallen Church hath felt Elijah's eye 
 Dart from the wild its piercing ray: 
 Not keener burns, in the chill morning sky, 
 The herald star 
 Whose touch afar 
 Shadows and boding night-birds fly. 
 
 * [John the Baptist was the predicted forerunner of Jesus, and his 
 mission forms the connecting link between the Old and New Testa- 
 ments. He was the son of Zacharias and Elizabeth, and took the 
 name, which distinguishes him from John the Apostle and Evangelist, 
 from his administration of the rite of baptism to the multitudes of 
 Judea, and to our blessed Lord In the case of all the other saints, 
 except St. Paul, their martyrdom is celebrated: in his, his nativity; 
 thus literally fulfilling the prediction of the angel, that many should 
 " rejoice in his birth."] 
 22 
 
254 St. John Baptist's Day. 
 
 Methinks we need him once again, 
 That favour'd seer — but where shall he be found! 
 
 By Cherith's side we seek in vain, 
 In vain on Carmel's green and lonely mound: 
 Angels no more 
 From Sinai soar, 
 On his celestial errands bound. 
 
 But wafted to her glorious place 
 By harmless fire, among the ethereal thrones, 
 
 His spirit with a dear embrace 
 Thee the lov'd harbinger of Jesus owns, 
 Well pleas'd to view 
 Her likeness true, 
 And trace, in thine, her own deep tones. 
 
 Deathless himself, he joys with thee 
 To commune how a faithful martyr dies, 
 
 And in the blest could envy be, 
 He would behold thy wounds with envious eyes, 
 Star of our morn, 
 Who yet unborn* 
 Didst guide our hope, where Christ should rise. 
 
 Now resting from your jealous care 
 For sinners, such as Eden cannot know, 
 Ye pour for us your mingled prayer, 
 No anxious fear to damp Affection's glow, 
 Love draws a cloud 
 From you to shroud 
 Rebellion's mystery here below. 
 
 And since we see, and not afar, 
 The twilight of the great and dreadful day, 
 Why linger, till Elijah's car 
 
 * St. Luke i. 44. The Babe leaped in her womb for joy. 
 
St. John Baptist's Daxj. 255 
 
 Stoop from the clouds? Why sleep ye? rise and pray, 
 Ye heralds seal'd 
 In camp or field 
 Your Saviour's banner to display. 
 
 Where is the lore the Baptist taught, 
 The soul unswerving and the fearless tongue'?* 
 
 The much-enduring wisdom, sought 
 By lonely prayer the haunted rocks among] 
 Who counts it gainf 
 His light should wane, 
 So the whole world to Jesus throng? 
 
 Thou Spirit who the Church didst lend 
 Her eagle wings, to shelter in the wild,:J: 
 
 We pray thee, ere the Judge descend, 
 With flames like these, all bright and undefil'd, 
 Her watchfires light, 
 To guide aright 
 Our weary souls, by earth beguil'd. 
 
 So glorious let thy Pastors shine, 
 That by their speaking lives the world may learn 
 
 First filial duty, then divine, § 
 That sons to parents, all to Thee may turn; 
 And ready prove 
 In fires of love, 
 At sight of Thee, for aye to burn. 
 
 * [After his example, says the Church, in the collect for this day, 
 "constantly speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and patiently suffer 
 for the truth's sake."] 
 
 ■f St. John iii. 30. He must increase, but I must decrease. 
 
 \ Revelations xii. 14. 
 
 § Malachi iv. 6. He shall turn the heart of the fathers to the chil- 
 dren, and the heait of the children to the fathers. 
 
 St. Luke i. 17. To turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and 
 the disobedient to the wisdom of the just ; to make ready a people pre- 
 pared for the Lord. 
 
256 
 
 ST. PETER'S DAY.* 
 
 [JUNE 29.] 
 
 When Herod would have brought him out, the same night Peter was 
 sleeping. Acts xii. 6. [Scripture for the Epistle.'] 
 
 [O Almighty God, who, by thy Son Jesus Christ, didst give to thy 
 Apostle Saint Peter many excellent gifts, and commandedst him 
 earnestly to feed thy flock ; make, we beseech thee, all Bishops and 
 Pastors diligently to preach thy holy Word, and the people obediently 
 to follow the same, that they may receive the crown of everlasting 
 glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] 
 
 THOU thrice denied, yet thrice belov'd,f 
 
 Watch by thine own forgiven friend; 
 In sharpest perils faithful provM, 
 
 Let his soul love thee to the end. 
 
 The prayer is heard — else why so deep 
 His slumber on the eve of death^ 
 
 * [Peter, a native and fisherman of Bethsaida, was the brother of 
 Andrew, and resided in Capernaum. He was among the first followers 
 of Jesus, and one of the twelve Apostles. To his name Simon, Jesus 
 added that of Peter (or Cephas), the one the Greek, and the other the 
 Hebrew name, for rock. He, with James the greater and John, was 
 the most favoured of the Apostles. He was illustrious for his zeal and 
 activity, as also for his denial of his Lord, and subsequent repentance. 
 He was more especially the Apostle of the Jews, as Paul was of the 
 Gentiles. His labours in planting the Gospel were great and success- 
 ful. He has left two general Epistles.] 
 
 t St. John xxi. 15, 16, 17. 
 
 X [His being found sleeping, beautifully illustrates his Christian 
 calmness and composure ] 
 
St. Peter's Day. 257 
 
 And wherefore smiles he in his sleep 
 As one who drew celestial breath? 
 
 He loves and is belov'd again — 
 
 Can his soul choose but be at rest] 
 Sorrow hath fled away, and Pain 
 
 Dares not invade the guarded nest, 
 
 He dearly loves, and not alone: 
 
 For his wing'd thoughts are soaring high 
 
 Where never yet frail heart was known 
 To breathe in vain affection's sigh. 
 
 He loves and weeps — but more than tears 
 Have seal'd thy welcome and his love — 
 
 One look lives in him, and endears 
 Crosses and wrongs where'er he rove: 
 
 That gracious chiding look,* Thy call 
 
 To win him to himself and Thee, 
 Sweetening the sorrow of his fall 
 
 Which else were ru'd too bitterly. 
 
 Even through the veil of sleep it shines, 
 
 The memory of that kindly glance; — 
 The Angel watching by divines, 
 
 And spares awhile his blissful trance. 
 
 Or haply to his native lakef 
 
 His vision wafts him back, to talk 
 With Jesus, ere his flight he takes, 
 
 As in that solemn evening walk, 
 
 When to the bosom of his friend, 
 
 The Shepherd, He whose name is Good, 
 
 * St. Luke xxii. CI, 
 
 t [See the passage here so happilv alluded to, John xxi. 15—17] 
 22* 
 
258 St. Peter's Day. 
 
 Did His dear lambs and sheep commend, 
 Both bought and nourish'd with His blood: 
 
 Then laid on him th' inverted tree,* 
 
 Which firm embrac'd with heart and arm, 
 
 Might cast o'er hope and memory, 
 O'er life and death, its awful charm. 
 
 With brightening heart he hears it on, 
 His passport thro' the eternal gates, 
 
 To his sweet home — so nearly won, 
 He seems, as by the door he waits, 
 
 The unexpressive notes to hearj" 
 Of angel song and angel motion, 
 
 Rising and falling on the ear 
 
 Like waves in Joy's unbounded ocean. — 
 
 His dream is chang'd — the Tyrant's voice 
 Calls to that last of glorious deeds — 
 
 But as he rises to rejoice, 
 
 Not Herod but an Angel leads. t 
 
 He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright,§ 
 Glancing around his prison room, — 
 
 But 'tis a gleam of heavenly light 
 That fills up all the ample gloom. 
 
 The flame, that in a few short years 
 Deep through the chambers of the dead 
 
 Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears, 
 Is waving o'er his dungeon-bed. 
 
 * [He is said to have been crucified with his head downwards.] 
 
 t [$o Milton of his dead Lycidas, 
 
 " And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love."] 
 
 X [And behold the Angel of the Lord came upon him.] 
 § [And a light shined in the prison.] 
 
St. Peter's Day. 259 
 
 Touch'd he upstarts — his chains unbind* — 
 Through darksome vault, up massy stair, 
 
 His dizzy, doubting footsteps wind 
 To freedom and cool moonlight air. 
 
 Then all himself, all joy and calm, 
 
 Though for a while his hand forego, 
 Just as it touch'd, the martyr's palm, 
 
 He turns him to his task below; 
 
 The pastoral staff, the keys of heaven, 
 
 To wield awhile in grey-hair'd might, 
 Then from his cross to spring forgiven, 
 
 And follow Jesus out of sig-ht. 
 
 ST. JAMES' DAY.t 
 
 [JULY 25.] 
 
 Ye shall indeed drink of my cup, and be baptized with the baptism 
 that I am baptized with : but to sit on my right hand and on my left is 
 not mine to give, but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared 
 of my Father. St. Matthew xx. 23. [Gospel for the Day.] 
 
 [Grant, O merciful God, that as thine holy Apostle Saint James, 
 leaving his father and all that he had, without delay was obedient 
 unto the calling of thy Son Jesus Christ, and followed him; so we, for- 
 saking all worldly and carnal affections, may be evermore ready to fol- 
 low thy holy commandments, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen] 
 
 SIT down and take thy fill of joy 
 
 At God's right hand, a bidden guest, 
 Drink of the cup that cannot cloy, 
 
 Eat of the bread that cannot waste. 
 
 * [See the whole passage here so finely paraphrased. Acts xii. 6 — 19.] 
 t [James the greater, the son of Zebedee, was a fisherman of Gali- 
 lee. Called by Christ, both he and his brother John straightway fol- 
 
260 St. James' Day. 
 
 O great Apostle! rightly now 
 
 Thou readest all thy Saviour meant, 
 
 What time His grave yet gentle brow 
 In sweet reproof on thee was bent. 
 
 " Seek ye to sit enthron'd by me? 
 
 "Alas! ye know not what ye ask, 
 " The first in shame and agony, 
 
 " The lowest in the meanest task — 
 "This can ye bel and can ye drink 
 
 "The cup that I in tears must steep, 
 "Nor from the whelming waters shrink 
 
 " That o'er me roll so dark and deep 1 ?" 
 
 "We can — thine are we, dearest Lord, 
 
 " In glory and in agony, 
 "To do and suffer all Thy word; 
 
 " Only be Thou for ever nigh." — 
 "Then be it so — my cup receive, 
 
 "And of my woes baptismal taste: 
 " But for the crown, that angels weave 
 
 " For those next me in glory plac'd, 
 
 " I give it not by partial love; 
 
 " But in my Father's book are writ 
 " What names on earth shall lowliest prove, 
 
 "That they in Heaven may highest sit." 
 Take up the lesson, O my heart; 
 
 Thou Lord of meekness, write it there, 
 Thine own meek self to me impart, 
 
 Thy lofty hope, thy lowly prayer. 
 
 lowed him. They were named, by our Lord, Boanerges, or sons of 
 thunder, expressive of their zeal and devotion to his cause; and with 
 Peter enjoyed his chief confidence He was the first of the twelve 
 Apostles who suffered martyrdom, being slain, by command of Herod, 
 with a sword.] 
 
Si. James' Day. 261 
 
 If ever on the mount with Thee 
 
 I seem to soar in vision bright, 
 With thoughts of coming - agony* 
 
 Stay thou the too presumptuous flight: 
 Gently along the vale of tears 
 
 Lead me from Tabor's sunbright steep, 
 Let me not grudge a few short years 
 
 With Thee tow'rd Heaven to walk and weep: 
 
 Too happy, on my silent path, 
 
 If now and then allow'd with Thee 
 Watching some placid holy death, 
 
 Thy secret work of love to see; 
 But oh most happy, should thy call, 
 
 Thy welcome call, at last be given — 
 " Come where thou long hast stor'd thy all, 
 
 " Come see thy place prepaid in Heaven." 
 
 * St. Matthew xvii. 12. " Likewise shall also the Son of Man suffer 
 of them." This was just after the transfiguration. 
 
262 
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.* 
 
 [august 24.^ 
 
 Jesus answered and said unto him. Because I said unto thee, I saw 
 thee under the fig-tree, be.lievest thou? thou shalt see greater things 
 than these. St John i. 50. 
 
 [O Almighty and everlasting God, who didst give to thine Apostle 
 Bartholomew grace truly to believe and to preach thy word; grant, we 
 beseech thee, unto thy Church, to love that word which he believed, 
 and both to preach and receive the same, through Jesus Chnst our 
 Lord. Jlmen.'j 
 
 HOLD up thy mirror to the sun, 
 
 And thou shalt need an eagle's gaze, 
 So perfectly the polish'd stone 
 
 Gives back the glory of his rays: 
 
 Turn it, and it shall paint as true 
 
 The soft green of the vernal earth, 
 And each small flower of bashful hue, 
 
 That closest hides its lowly birth. 
 
 Our mirror is a blessed book, 
 
 Where out from each illumin'd page 
 We see one glorious Image look 
 
 All eyes to dazzle and engage, 
 
 * [Bartholomew, one of the twelve Apostles, is generally believed to 
 have been that Nathaniel of whom Jesus taid, "Behold an Israelite 
 indeed, in whom is no guile. "J 
 
St. Bartholomew. 263 
 
 The Son of God: and that indeed 
 
 We see Him as He is, we know, 
 Since in the same bright glass we read 
 
 The very life of things below. — 
 
 Eye of God's word!* where'er we turn 
 
 Ever upon us! thy keen gaze 
 Can all the depths of sin discern, 
 
 Unravel every bosom's maze: 
 
 Who that has felt thy glance of dread 
 Thrill through his heart's remotest cells, 
 
 About his path, about his bed, 
 
 Can doubt what spirit in thee dwells? 
 
 " What word is this? Whence know'st thou me?" 
 All wondering cries the humbled heart, 
 
 To hear thee that deep mystery, 
 The knowledge of itself, impart. 
 
 The veil is rais'd; who runs may read, 
 
 By its own light the truth is seen, 
 And soon the Israelite indeed 
 
 Bows down t' adore the Nazarene. 
 
 So did Nathaniel, guileless man, 
 
 At once, not shame-fac'd or afraid, 
 Owning him God, who so could scan 
 
 His musings in the lonely shade; 
 
 * "The position before us is. that we ourselves, and snch as we, are 
 the very persons whom Scripture speaks of: and to whom, as men, in 
 every variety of persuasive form, it makes its condescending though 
 celestial appeal. The point worthy of observation is, to note how a 
 book of the description and the compass which we have represented 
 Scripture to be, posses-es this versatility of power; this eye, like that 
 of a portrait, uniformly fixed upon us, turn where we will." Miller's 
 Bampton Lectures, p. 128. 
 
264 St. Bartholomew. 
 
 In his own pleasant fig-tree's shade,* 
 Which by his household fountain grew, 
 
 Where at noon-day his prayer he made, 
 To know God better than he knew. 
 
 Oh! happy hours of heaven-ward thought! 
 
 How richly crown'd! how well improv'd! 
 In musing o'er the Law he taught, 
 
 In waiting for the Lord he lov'd. 
 
 We must not mar with earthly praise 
 What God's approving word hath seal'd; 
 
 Enough, if right our feeble lays 
 Take up the promise He reveal'd; 
 
 "The child-like faith, that asks not sight, 
 
 " Waits not for wonder or for sign, 
 " Believes, because it loves, aright — 
 
 " Shall see things greater, things divine. 
 
 " Heaven to that gaze shall open wide,f 
 
 "And brightest angels to and fro 
 " On messages of love shall glide 
 
 "'Twixt God above, and Christ below." 
 
 So still the guileless man is blest, 
 
 To him all crooked paths are straight, 
 Him on his way to endless rest 
 
 Fresh, ever-growing strengths await.:}: 
 
 God's witnesses, a glorious host, 
 
 Compass him daily like a cloud; 
 Martyrs and seers, the sav'd and lost, 
 
 Mercies and judgments cry aloud. 
 
 * [•' Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig- 
 tree, I saw thee."] 
 
 \ [" Hereafter ye shall see heaven opened, and the angels of God 
 ascending and descending upon the Son of man. "J 
 
 \ Psalm, lxxxiv. 7. They shall go from strength to strength. 
 
St. Bartholomew. 265 
 
 Yet shall to him the still small voice, 
 That first into his bosom found 
 
 A way, and fix'd his wavering choice, 
 Nearest and dearest ever sound. 
 
 ST. MATTHEW.* 
 
 [SEPTEMBER 21.] 
 
 And after these things. He went forth and saw a publican named 
 Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom, and Fie said unto him, Follow 
 me : and he left all, rose up, and followed Him. St Luke v. 27, 28. 
 
 [O Almighty God, who by thy blessed Son didst call Matthew from 
 the receipt of custom, to be an Apostle and Evangelist; grant us grace 
 to forsake all covetous desires, and inordinate love of riches; and to 
 follow the same thy Son Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with 
 thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen\ 
 
 YE hermits blest, ye holy maids, 
 
 The nearest heaven on earth, 
 Who talk with God in shadowy glades, 
 
 Free from rude care and mirth; 
 To whom some viewless teacher brings 
 The secret lore of rural things, 
 The moral of each fleeting cloud and gale, 
 The whispers from above, that haunt the twilight vale: 
 
 * [Matthew, called also Levi, was a publican, or collector of taxes, 
 under the Roman government. He was sitting " at the receipt of cus- 
 tom," when, called by Jesus to be his disciple, he arose and followed 
 him. He was appointed one of the twelve Apostles of our Lord, and 
 wrote one of the four Gospels.] 
 23 
 
268 St. Matthew. 
 
 Say, when in pity ye have gaz'd 
 
 On the wreath'd smoke afar, 
 That o'er some town, like mist uprais'd, 
 
 Hung, hiding sun and star, 
 Then as ye turn'd your weary eye 
 To the green earth and open sky, 
 Were ye not fain to doubt how Faith could dwell 
 Amid that dreary glare, in this world's citadel'? 
 
 But Love 's a flower that will not die 
 
 For lack of leafy screen, 
 And Christian Hope can cheer the eye* 
 
 That ne'er saw vernal green; 
 Then be ye sure that Love can bless 
 Even in this crowded loneliness, 
 Where ever-moving myriads seem to say, 
 Go — thou art naught to us, nor we to thee — away! 
 
 There are in this loud stunning tide 
 
 Of human care and crime, 
 With whom the melodies abide 
 
 Of th' everlasting chime; 
 Who carry music in their heart 
 Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, 
 Plying their daily task with busier feet, 
 Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat. 
 
 How sweet to them, in such brief rest 
 
 As thronging cares afford, 
 In thought to wander, fancy-blest, 
 
 To where their gracious Lord, 
 
 * [It may doubtless be believed that the simplicity and retirement of 
 the country is better titled to nourish and increase spiritual religion 
 than the hurry and bustle, the engrossing occupation and artificial as- 
 sociations, of the city. Yet in all places Christianity has found its 
 true disciples; and its pure doctrines and peaceful precepts, are adapted 
 for man's reformation and consolation in all places and in all condi- 
 tions] 
 
St. Matthew. 267 
 
 In vain, to win proud Pharisees, 
 Spake, and was heard by fell disease* — 
 But not in vain, beside yon breezy lake,f 
 Bade the meek Publican his gainful seat forsake: 
 
 At once he rose, and left his gold; 
 
 His treasure and his heart 
 Transferr'd, where he shall safe behold 
 
 Earth and her idols part; 
 While he beside his endless store 
 Shall sit, and floods unceasing pour 
 Of Christ's true riches o'er all time and space, 
 First angel of his Church, first steward of his grace;}: 
 
 Nor can ye not delight to think§ 
 
 Where he vouchsaf'd to eat, 
 How the Most Holy did not shrink 
 
 From touch of sinner's meat; 
 What worldly hearts and hearts impure 
 W"ent with him through the rich man's door, 
 That we might learn of Him lost souls to love, 
 And view his least and worst with hope to meet above. 
 
 These gracious lines shed Gospel light 
 
 On Mammon's gloomiest cells, 
 As on some city's cheerless night 
 
 The tide of sun-rise swells, 
 Till tower, and dome, and bridge-way proud 
 Are mantled w ith a golden cloud, 
 
 * Tt seem? from St. Matihpw i.x. 8, 9, that the calling of Levi took 
 place immediately after the healing of the paralytic in the presence of 
 the Pharisees 
 
 | [The lake of Gennesaret, by the side of which the custom house 
 stood, in which Matthew exercised his vocation.] 
 
 X [J3ngeL— Messenger, Ap stle.] 
 
 § [St. Matthew ix. 10. '* And Levi (Matthew) made him a srreat 
 feast in his own house." Luke v. 29. Matthew, though he mentions 
 the feast, omits, wilh becoming modesty, to say who gave it.] 
 
268 St. Matthew. 
 
 And to wise hearts this certain hope is given; 
 "No mist that man may raise, shall hide the eye of 
 " Heaven." 
 
 And oh! if even on Babel shine 
 
 Such gleams of Paradise, 
 Should not their peace be peace divine, 
 
 Who day by day arise 
 To look on clearer Heavens, and scan 
 The work of God untouch'd by man 1 ? 
 Shame on us, who about us Babel bear, 
 And live in Paradise, as if God was not there! 
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.* 
 
 [SEPTEMBER 29.] 
 
 Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them 
 who shall be heirs of salvation? Hebrews i. 14. 
 
 [O Everlasting God, who hast ordained and constituted the services 
 of angels and men in a wonderful order; mercifully grant, that as thy 
 holy Angels always do thee service in heaven; so, by thy appointment 
 they may succour and defend us on earth, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. Ameu\ 
 
 YE stars that round the Sun of righteousness 
 
 In glorious order roll, 
 With harps for ever strung, ready to bless 
 
 God for each rescued soul, 
 
 * [The Church, on this festival, commemorates the services of that 
 order of celestial beings, who are appointed to minister to such as 
 shall be heirs of salvation. Michael is named in the Scripture as the 
 archangel.] 
 
St. Michael and all Angels. 269 
 
 o' 
 
 Ye eagle spirits, that build in light divine, 
 
 Oh think of us to-day, 
 Faint warblers of this earth, that would combine 
 Our trembling notes with your accepted lay. 
 
 Your amarant wreaths were earn'd; and homeward all, 
 
 Flush'd with victorious might, 
 Ye might have sped to keep high festival, 
 
 And revel in the light; 
 But meeting us, weak worldlings, on our way, 
 
 Tired ere the fight begun, 
 Ye turn'd to help us in the unequal fray, 
 Remembering whose we were, how dearly won: 
 
 Remembering Bethlehem, and that glorious night 
 
 When ye, who used to soar 
 Diverse along all space in fiery flight, 
 
 Came thronging to adore 
 Your God new-born, and made a sinners child; 
 
 As if the stars should leave 
 Their stations in the far ethereal wild, 
 And round the sun a radiant circle weave. 
 
 Nor less your lay of triumph greeted fair 
 
 Our Champion and your King, 
 In that first strife, whence Satan in despair 
 
 Sunk down on scathed wing: 
 Alone He fasted, and alone He fought; 
 
 But when his toils were o'er 
 Ye to the sacred Hermit duteous brought 
 Banquet and hymn, your Eden's festal store. 
 
 Ye too, when lowest in th' abyss of woe 
 
 He plung'd to save his sheep, 
 Were leaning from your golden thrones to know 
 
 The secrets of that deep: 
 23* 
 
270 St. Michael and all Angels. 
 
 But clouds were on his sorrow: one alone 
 
 His agonizing call 
 Summon'd from Heaven, to still that bitterest groan, 
 And comfort Him, the Comforter of all. 
 
 Oh! highest favour'd of all Spirits create, 
 
 (If right of thee we deem) 
 How didst thou glide on brightening wing elate 
 
 To meet th' unclouded beam 
 Of Jesus from the couch of darkness rising! 
 
 How swell'd thine anthem's sound, 
 With fear and mightier joy weak hearts surprising, 
 " Your God is risen, and may not here be found." 
 
 Pass a few days, and this dull darkling globe 
 Must yield him from her sight; — 
 
 Brighter and brighter streams his glory-robe, 
 And He is lost in light. 
 
 Then, when through yonder everlasting arch, 
 Ye in innumerous choir 
 
 Pour'd, heralding Messiah's conquering march, 
 
 Linger'd around his skirts two forms of fire: 
 
 With us they staid, high warning to impart; 
 
 "The Christ shall come again 
 "Even as He goes; with the same human heart, 
 
 " With the same godlike train." — 
 Oh ! jealous God ! how could a sinner dare 
 
 Think on that dreadful day, 
 But that, with all thy wounds Thou wilt be there, 
 And all our angel friends to bring Thee on thy way 1 ? 
 
 Since to thy little ones is given such grace, 
 
 That they who nearest stand 
 Alway to God in Heaven, and see His face, 
 
 Go forth at His command, 
 
St. Michael and all Angels. 271 
 
 To wait around our path in weal or woe, 
 
 As erst upon our King, 
 Set thy baptismal seal upon our brow, 
 And waft us heaven-ward with enfolding wing: 
 
 Grant, Lord, that when around th' expiring world 
 
 Our seraph guardians wait, 
 While on her death-bed, ere to ruin hurl'd, 
 
 She owns Thee, all too late, 
 They to their charge may turn, and thankful see 
 
 Thy mark upon us still; 
 Then all together rise, and Teign with Thee, 
 And all their holy joy o'er contrite hearts fulfil ! 
 
 ST. LUKE.* 
 
 [OCTOBER 18.] 
 
 Luke the beloved physician, and Demas, greet you. Colossiaus iv. 14. 
 Deiuas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world. Only 
 Luke is with me. 2 Tim. iv. 10, 11. [Epistle for the Day} 
 
 [Almighty God, who calledst Luke the Physician, whose praise is in 
 the Gospel, to be an Evangelist and Physician of the soul; may it 
 please thee, that by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered 
 by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed, through the merits 
 of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. jSmen.] 
 
 TWO clouds before the summer gale 
 
 In equal race fleet o'er the sky: 
 Two flowers, when wintry blasts assail, 
 
 Together pine, together die. 
 
 * [St. Luke is said to have been born at Antioch. He was a phy- 
 sician ; and after his conversion, accompanied St. Paul. He wrote a 
 Gospel., and the Acts of the Apostles ] 
 
272 St. Lvke. 
 
 But two capricious human hearts — 
 No sage's rod may track their ways, 
 
 No eye pursue their lawless starts 
 Along their wild self-chosen maze. 
 
 He only, by whose sovereign hand 
 
 Even sinners for the evil day* 
 Were made — who rules the world he plann'd, 
 
 Turning our worst his own good way; 
 
 He only can the cause reveal, 
 
 Why, at the same fond bosom fed, 
 
 Taught in the self-same lap to kneel 
 Till the same prayer were duly said. 
 
 Brothers in blood and nurture too, 
 Aliens in heart so oft should prove; 
 
 One lose, the other keep, Heaven's clue; 
 One dwell in wrath, and one in love. 
 
 He only knows,— for He can read 
 The mystery of the wicked heart, — 
 
 Why vainly oft our arrows speed 
 When aitn'd with most unerring- art: 
 
 While from some rude and powerless arm 
 A random shaft in season sent 
 
 Shall light upon some lurking harm, 
 And work some wonder little meant. 
 
 Doubt we, how souls so wanton change, 
 Leaving their own experienc'd rest] 
 
 Needs not around the world to range; 
 One narrow cell may teach us best. 
 
 * Proverbs xvi. 4. The Lord hath made all things for himself, yea, 
 even tho wicked for the day of evil. 
 
St. Luke. 273 
 
 Look in, and see Christ's chosen saint 
 In triumph wear his Christ-like chain; 
 
 No fear lest he should swerve or faint; 
 " His life is Christ, his death is gain."* 
 
 Two converts, watching by his side, 
 
 Alike his love and greetings share; 
 Luke the belov'd, the sick soul's guide, 
 
 And Demas, nam'd in faltering prayer. 
 
 Pass a few years — look in once more — 
 
 The saint is in his bonds again; 
 Save that his hopes more boldly soar,| 
 
 He and his lot unchang'd remain. 
 
 But only Luke is with him now: — 
 
 Alas ! that even the martyr's cell, 
 Heaven's very gate, should scope allow 
 
 For the false world's seducing spell. 
 
 'Tis sad— but yet 'tis well, be sure, 
 We on the sight should muse awhile, 
 
 Nor deem our shelter all secure 
 
 Even in the Church's holiest aisle. 
 
 Vainly before the shrine he bends, 
 
 Who knows not the true pilgrim's part; 
 
 The martyr's cell no safety lends 
 
 To him, who wants the martyr's heart. 
 
 But if there be, who follows Paul 
 
 As Paul his Lord, in life and death, 
 Where'er an aching heart may call, 
 
 Ready to speed and take no breath; 
 
 * Philip, i. 21. 
 
 t In the Epistle to the Philippians, " I know that I shall abide and 
 continue with you all: — 1 count not myself to have apprehended," i. 
 25. iii. 13. 
 
 In 2 Tim., "I have finished my course," &c. iv. 7, 8. 
 
274 St. Luke. 
 
 Whose joy is, to the wandering sheep 
 To tell of the great Shepherd's love;* 
 
 To learn of mourners while they weep 
 The music that makes mirth above; 
 
 Who makes the Saviour all his theme, 
 The Gospel all his pride and praise — 
 
 Approach: for thou canst feel the gleam 
 That round the martyr's death-bed plays: 
 
 Thou hast an ear for angel's songs, 
 
 A breath the Gospel trump to fill, 
 And taught by thee the Church prolongs 
 
 Her hymns of high thanksgiving still. f 
 
 Ah ! dearest mother, since too oft 
 
 The world yet wins some Demas frail 
 
 Even from thine arms, so kind and soft, 
 May thy tried comforts never fail ! 
 
 When faithless ones forsake thy wing, 
 
 Be it vouchsaf'd thee still to see 
 Thy true, fond nurslings closer cling, 
 
 Cling closer to their Lord and thee. 
 
 * The Gospel of St. Luke abounds most in such passages as the 
 parable of the lost sheep; such as display God's mercy to penitent sin- 
 ners. 
 
 f The Christian hymns are all in St. Luke: the Magnificat, Bene- 
 dictus, and Nunc Dimittis. 
 
275 
 
 ST. SIMON AND ST. JUDE.* 
 
 [OCTOBER 28.] 
 
 That ye should earnestly contend forf the faith which was once de- 
 livered unto the saints. St. Jude 3. [Epistle for the Day.} 
 
 [O Almighty God, who hast built thy Church upon the foundation of 
 the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the head corner- 
 stone; grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their 
 doctrine, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable unto thee, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen ] 
 
 SEEST thou, how tearful and alone, 
 
 And drooping like a wounded dove, 
 The Cross in sight, but Jesus gone, 
 - The widow'd Church is fain to rove? 
 
 Who is at hand that loves the Lord^ 
 
 Make haste, and take her home, and bring 
 
 Thine household choir, in true accord 
 Their soothing hymns for her to sing. 
 
 * [These were both Apostles. Simon is also called Zelotes, and the 
 Canaanite, to distinguish him from Simon Peter. Jude, called also 
 Lebbeus and Tkaddeus, was the brother of James the less, and author 
 of th? Epistle which bears his name. There is a tradition that they 
 laboured and suffered martyrdom together.] 
 
 t ZTrayoMl^ifSai : — " be very anxious for it:" " feel for it as for a 
 friend in jeopardy." 
 
 % St. John xix. 27. Then saith He to the disciple, Behold thy mother; 
 and from that hour that disciple took her to his own home. 
 
276 St. Simon and St. Jude. 
 
 Soft on her fluttering' heart shall breathe 
 The fragrance of that genial isle, 
 
 There she may weave her funeral wreath, 
 And to her own sad music smile. 
 
 The Spirit of the dying Son 
 Is there, and fills the holy place 
 
 With records sweet of duties done, 
 Of pardon'd foes, and cherish'd grace. 
 
 And as of old by two and two* 
 His herald saints the Saviour sent 
 
 To soften hearts like morning dew, 
 Where He to shine in mercy meant; 
 
 So evermore He deems his name 
 Best honour'd and his way prepar'd, 
 
 When watching by his altar-flame 
 He sees his servants duly pair'd. 
 
 He loves when age and youth are met, 
 Fervent old age and youth serene, 
 
 Their high and low in concord set 
 For sacred song, Joy's golden mean. 
 
 He loves when some clear soaring mind 
 
 Is drawn by mutual piety 
 To simple souls and unrefin'd, 
 
 Who in life's shadiest covert lie. 
 
 Or if perchance a sadden'd heart 
 
 That once was gay and felt the spring, 
 
 Cons slowly o'er its alter'd part, 
 In sorrow and remorse to sing, 
 
 * St. Mark vi. 7. St. Luke x. 1. 
 
St. Simon and St. Jude. 277 
 
 Thy gracious care will send that way 
 
 Some spirit full of glee, yet taught 
 To bear the sight of dull decay, 
 
 And nurse it with all pitying thought; 
 
 Cheerful as soaring lark, and mild* 
 As evening blackbird's full-ton'd lay, 
 
 When the relenting sun has smil'd 
 
 Bright through a whole December day. 
 
 * ["Upon such a field one has the best chance of hearing the matin 
 song of the year. While the morning is yet cold there are but a few 
 complaining chirps, and the birds chiefly appear in short flights, which 
 have much the appearance of leaps under the hedges. As the morning 
 gets warm, however, a few are found running along the furrows, and 
 one brown fellow, perched on a clod, partially erecting a crest of 
 feathers, and looking around him with a mingled air of complacency 
 and confidence, utters a 'chur-ree' in an under tone, as if he were 
 trying the lowest and the highest notes of. an instrument. The notes 
 are restrained, but they have enough of music in them to cause you to 
 wish for a repetition. That, however, does not in general come; but 
 instead of it there is a single 'churr' murmured from a distance, and 
 so soft as hardly to be audible; and the bird that was stationed upon 
 the clod has vanished, nor can you for some time find out what has 
 become of him. His flight is at first upward, and bears some resem- 
 blance to the smoke of a fire on a calm day, gradually expanding into 
 a spiral as it rises above the surface. But no sooner has he gained the 
 proper elevation, than down showers his song, filling the whole air 
 with the most cheerful melody; and you feel more gay, more glee and 
 lifting up of the heart, than when any other music "meets your ear. 
 
 The opening of the day and of the year come fresh to your fancy, as 
 you instinctively repeat— 
 
 ' Hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings.' 
 The Lark indeed is the signal both for the season and the day. The 
 very first sun of the young year calls up the lark to pour his song from 
 the sky. Nor can any thing be more in harmony with the situation 
 in which we find it, than the song of the lark. The bird is the very 
 emblem of freedom; floating in the thin air, with spreading tail, and 
 outstretched wings, and moving its little head delightedly, first to the 
 one side, and then to the other, as if it would communicate its joy 
 around, it at last soars to such an elevation, that if visible at all, it is 
 a mere dark speck in the blue vault of heaven, and carolling over the 
 young year or the young day, while all is bustle and activity, the airy 
 wildness of the song makts its whole character more peculiar and 
 striking." Mudie's British Naturalist, ii. pp. 110 to 114.1 
 
 24 
 
278 St. Simon and St. Jude. 
 
 These are the tones to brace and cheer 
 The lonely watcher of the fold, 
 
 When nights are dark, and foernen near, 
 When visions fade and hearts grow cold. 
 
 How timely then a comrade's song 
 Comes floating on the mountain air, 
 
 And bids thee yet be bold and strong — 
 Fancy may die, but Faith is there. 
 
 ALL SAINTS' DAY.* 
 
 NOVEMBER 
 
 i-] 
 
 Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we have sealed 
 the servants of our God in their foreheads. Revelations vii. 3. 
 
 [O Almighty God, who hast knit together thine elect in one com- 
 munion and fellowship, in the mystical body of thy .Son Christ, our 
 Lord; grant us grace so to folluw thy blessed Saints in all virtuous 
 and godly living, that we may come to those unspeakable joys, which 
 thou hast prepared for those who unfeignedly love thee, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.'] 
 
 WHY blow'st thou not, thou wintry wind, 
 
 Now every leaf is brown and sere, 
 And idly droops, to thee resign'd, 
 
 The fading chaplet of the year? 
 Yet wears the pure aerial sky 
 Her summer veil, half drawn on high, 
 Of silvery haze, and dark and still 
 The shadows sleep on every slanting hill. 
 
 * [This festival is appointed for the commemoration of all those 
 saints and martyrs to whom no particular day is assigned.] 
 
All Saints' Bay. 279 
 
 How quiet shows the woodland scene! 
 
 Each flower and tree, its duty done, 
 Reposing in decay serene, 
 
 Like weary men when age is won, 
 Such calm old age as conscience pure 
 And self-commanding hearts ensure, 
 Waiting their summons to the sky, 
 Content to live, but not afraid to die, 
 
 ' Sure if our eyes were purg'd to trace 
 God's unseen armies hovering round, 
 We should behold by angels' grace 
 
 The four strong winds of Heaven fast bound, 
 Their downward sweep a moment staid 
 On ocean cove and forest glade, 
 Till the last flower of autumn shed 
 Her funeral odours on her dying bed. 
 
 So in thine awful armoury, Lord, 
 
 The lightnings of the judgment day 
 Pause yet awhile, in mercy stor'd, 
 
 Till willing hearts wear quite away 
 Their earthly stains; and spotless shine 
 On every brow in light divine 
 The Cross by angel hands impress'd, 
 The seal of glory won and pledge of promis'd rest. 
 
 Little they dream, those haughty souls 
 Whom empires own with bended knee, 
 
 What lowly fate their own controls, 
 Together link'd by Heaven's decree; — 
 
 As bloodhounds hush their baying wild 
 
 To wanton with some fearless child, 
 
 So Famine waits, and War with greedy eyes, 
 Till some repenting heart be ready for the skies. 
 
 Think ye the spires that glow so bright 
 In front of yonder setting sun, 
 
280 All Saints' Day. 
 
 Stand by their own unshaken might? 
 
 No — where th' upholding grace is won, 
 We dare not ask, nor Heaven would tell, 
 Bat sure from many a hidden dell, 
 From many a rural nook unthought of there, 
 Rises for that proud world the saints' prevailing prayer. 
 
 On, champions blest, in Jesus' name, 
 Short be your strife, your triumph full, 
 
 Till every heart have caught your flame, 
 And lighten'd of the world's misrule 
 
 Ye soar those elder saints to meet, 
 
 Gather'd long since at Jesus' feet, 
 
 No world of passions to destroy, 
 Your prayers and struggles o'er, your task all praise and 
 
 joy. 
 
 HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 O GOD of Mercy, God of Might, 
 How should pale sinners bear the sight, 
 If, as Thy power is surely here, 
 Thine open glory should appear? 
 
 For now Thy people are allow'd 
 To scale the mount and pierce the cloud, 
 And Faith may feed her eager view 
 With wonders Sinai never knew. 
 
 Fresh from th' atoning sacrifice 
 The world's Creator bleeding lies, 
 That man, his foe, by whom He bled, 
 May take Him for his daily bread. 
 
Holy Communion. 281 
 
 O agony of wavering thought 
 When sinners first so near are brought! 
 " It is my Maker — dare I stay 1 ? 
 "My Saviour — dare I turn away 1 ?"* 
 
 Thus while the storm is high within 
 'Twixt love of Christ and fear of sin, 
 Who can express the soothing charm, 
 To feel thy kind upholding arm, 
 
 My mother Church? and hear thee tell 
 Of a world lost, yet lov'd so well, 
 That He, by whom the angels live, 
 His only Son for her would give.f 
 
 And doubt we yet? thou call'st again; 
 A lower still, a sweeter strain; 
 A voice from Mercy's inmost shrine, 
 The very breath of Love divine. 
 
 Whispering it says to each apart, 
 " Come unto me, thou trembling heart;":}: 
 And we must hope, so sweet the tone, 
 The precious words are all our own. 
 
 Hear them, kind Saviour — hear thy spouse 
 Low at thy feet renew her vows; 
 Thine own dear promise she would plead 
 For us her true though fallen seed. 
 
 * [See the exhortations to the Communion, in the hook of Common 
 Prayer. It would seem that no Christian, who in humility and sin- 
 cerity reads the Scripture passages on this subject, and the commen- 
 tary there given, could doubt as to God's will, or his own duty.] 
 
 t "God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son." 
 See the sentences in the Communion Service, after the Confession. 
 
 t Tome unto me, all ye that travail, and are heavy laden, and I will 
 refresh you. 
 
 24* 
 
282 Holy Communion. 
 
 She pleads by all thy mercies, told 
 Thy chosen witnesses of old, 
 Love's heralds sent to man forgiven, 
 One from the Cross, and one from heaven. 
 
 This, of true Penitents the chief, 
 To the lost spirit brings relief, 
 Lifting on high the adored name: — 
 " Sinners to save, Christ Jesus came."f 
 
 That, dearest of thy bosom Friends, 
 Into the wavering heart descends: — 
 "What? fall'n again? yet cheerful rise,:}: 
 " Thine Intercessor never dies." 
 
 The eye of Faith, that waxes bright 
 Each moment by thine altar's light, 
 Sees them e'en now: they still abide 
 In mystery kneeling at our side; 
 
 And with them every spirit blest, 
 From realms of triumph or of rest, 
 From Him who saw creation's morn, 
 Of all thine angels eldest born, 
 
 To the poor babe, who died to-day, 
 Take part in our thanksgiving lay,§ 
 Watching the tearful joy and calm, 
 While sinners taste thine heavenly balm. 
 
 * St. Paul and Ft. John. 
 
 t This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all men to be received, 
 That Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. 
 
 % If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus 
 Christ the righteous. 
 
 § [The Communion of Saints. There is an admirable sermon on 
 this subject, by the Rev. Charles Forster, the Chaplain, companion and 
 bosom friend of the late inestimable Bishop of Limerick, Dr. Jebb, to 
 whose memory it is dedicated. It was printed, but not published.] 
 
Holy Communion. 233 
 
 Sweet awful hour! the only sound 
 One gentle footstep gliding round, 
 Offering by turns on Jesus' part 
 The Cross to every hand and heart. 
 
 Refresh us, Lord, to hold it fast; 
 And when thy veil is drawn at last, 
 Let us depart where shadows cease, 
 With words of blessing and of peace. 
 
 HOLY BAPTISM.* 
 
 WHERE is it, mothers learn their love?- 
 In every Church a fountain springs 
 O'er which th' eternal Dove 
 Hovers on softest wings. 
 
 What sparkles in that lucid flood 
 Is water, by gross mortals ey'd: 
 But seen by Faith, 'tis blood 
 Out of a dear Friend's side. 
 
 A few calm words of faith and prayer, 
 A few bright drops of holy dew, 
 Shall work a wonder there 
 Earth's charmers never knew. 
 
 * [There is a soothing sacred beauty in these lines, peculiar and in- 
 describable. The strain they breathe comes sweetly and softly on the 
 soul, like a sleeping infant's breath. We are mistaken if they do not 
 make all Christian mothers in love with Keble's poetry.] 
 
281 Holy Baptism. 
 
 happy arms, where cradled lies, 
 And ready for the Lord's embrace, 
 That precious sacrifice, 
 The darling of his grace ! 
 
 Blest eyes, that see the smiling gleam 
 Upon the slumbering features glow, 
 When the life-giving stream 
 Touches the tender brow ! 
 
 Or when the holy cross is sign'd, 
 And the young soldier duly sworn 
 With true and fearless mind 
 To serve the Virgin-born. 
 
 But happiest ye, who seal'd and blest 
 Back to your arms your treasure take, 
 With Jesus' mark impress'd 
 To nurse for Jesus' sake: 
 
 To whom — as if in hallow'd air 
 
 Ye knelt before some awful shrine — 
 His innocent gestures wear 
 A meaning half divine: 
 
 By whom Love's daily touch is seen 
 
 In strengthening form and freshening hue, 
 In the fix'd brow serene, 
 The deep yet eager view. — 
 
 Who taught thy pure and even breath 
 To come and go with such sweet grace? 
 Whence thy reposing Faith, 
 Though in our frail embrace? 
 
 O tender gem, and full of heaven! 
 Not in the twilight stars on high, 
 Not in moist flowers at even 
 See we our God so nigh. 
 
IMy Baptism. 285 
 
 Sweet one, make haste and know Him too, 
 Thine own adopting Father love, 
 That like thine earliest dew 
 Thy dying sweets may prove. 
 
 CATECHISM.* 
 
 OH say not, dream not, heavenly notes 
 
 To childish ears are vain, 
 That the young mind at random floats, 
 
 And cannot reach the strain. 
 
 Dim or unheard, the words may fall, 
 
 And yet the heaven-taught mind 
 May learn the sacred air, and all 
 
 The harmony unwind. j- 
 
 Was not our Lord a little child, £ 
 
 Taught by degrees to pray, 
 By father dear and mother mild 
 
 Instructed day by day* 
 
 * [From the Font our poet passes to the Catechism. We would that 
 he misht take all Christian parents and sponsors with him ] 
 
 t [The common but groundless objection, that children cannot under- 
 stand the Catechism, is beautifully and effectually answered in these 
 lines. It applies with equal force to the several branches of human 
 learning. In grammar, in mathematics, in philosophy, the child learns 
 much that he does not fully comprehend. But it is stored in his 
 memory, and as his intellectual powers are developed, he understands 
 its meaning. So it must be with the Scriptures, as well as with the 
 Catechism ] 
 
 X [" And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was 
 subject unto them ; and his mother kept all these sayings in her heart. 
 And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God 
 and man." Luke ii. 51, o2 ] 
 
*286 Catechism. 
 
 And lov'd He not of Heaven to talk 
 With children in His sight, 
 
 To meet them in his daily walk, 
 And to his arms invite] 
 
 What though around His throne of fire 
 
 The everlasting chant 
 Be wafted from the seraph choir 
 
 In glory jubilant? 
 
 Yet stoops He, ever pleas'd to mark 
 
 Our rude essays of love, 
 Faint as the pipe of wakening lark, 
 
 Heard by some twilight grove: 
 
 Yet is He near us, to survey 
 
 These bright and order'd files, 
 
 Like spring-flowers in their best array, 
 All silence and all smiles. 
 
 Save that each little voice in turn 
 
 Some glorious truth proclaims, — 
 
 What sages would have died to learn, 
 Now taught by cottage dames.* 
 
 And if some tones be false or low, 
 What are all prayers beneath 
 
 But cries of babes, that cannot know 
 Half the deep thought they breathe? 
 
 In his own words we Christ adore, 
 But angels, as we speak, 
 
 Higher above our meaning soar 
 Than we o'er children weak: 
 
 * [Truths are made familiar to children in the Sunday school which 
 Plato and Cicero longed to ascertain. Yea, 
 
 " Prophets and kings desired to know, 
 And died without the sight."] 
 
Catechism. 287 
 
 And yet His words mean more than they 
 And yet He owns their praise: 
 
 Why should we think, He turns away 
 From infants' simple lays'? 
 
 CONFIRMATION.* 
 
 THE shadow of th' Almighty's cloud 
 
 Calm on the tents of Israel lay, 
 While drooping paus'd twelve banners proud, 
 
 Till He arise and lead the way. 
 
 Then to the desert breeze unroll'd 
 
 Cheerly the waving pennons fly, 
 Lion or eagle — each bright fold 
 
 A loadstar to a warrior's eye. 
 
 * [•' It is certainly not a sacrament, but I know it is a means of 
 grace, and I trust and believe, generally speaking, an efficacious 
 means. And how simple the rite itself is; and how very natural in 
 both its parts! 
 
 " How natural it seems, that those to whom a gracious God has 
 given life, and health, and happiness, and beauty, should, as soon as 
 they are old enough to look round on the fair creation, amidst which 
 they are placed as the fairest, desire of themselves, to place themselves 
 under the care of its beneficent God. Yet, alas! there I mistake my 
 ground; that was man's natural condition once, when "God saw every 
 thing that he had made, and behold it was very good," but the case is 
 entirely altered now; yet it is meet and right, that, if having been 
 afar off, they have been brought near by the blood of Christ, sprinkled 
 with the waters of baptism, and taken, when unconscious of the pri- 
 vilege, into covenant with the most high God — it is natural, that if 
 they have any feeling, any gratitude, they should desire to renew the 
 vow, and enter into the covenant for themselves. And how simply 
 beautiful our service is — how free from superstitious pomp, and un- 
 meaning ceremony on the one hand— and on the other, how impressive, 
 how solemn; how all things are done decently and in order!" 
 
 Scenes in our Parish, by "c Cottntry Parson's Daughter." 1 ] 
 
288 Confirmation. 
 
 So should thy champions, ere the strife, 
 By holy hands o'er-shadow'd kneel, 
 
 So fearless for their charmed life, 
 Bear, to the end, thy Spirit's seal. 
 
 Steady and pure as stars that beam 
 In middle heaven, all mist above, 
 
 Seen deepest in the frozen stream: — 
 Such is their high courageous love. 
 
 And soft as pure, and warm as bright, 
 They brood upon life's peaceful hour, 
 
 As if the Dove that guides their flight 
 Shook from her plumes a downy shower. 
 
 Spirit of might and sweetness too! 
 
 Now leading on the wars of God, 
 Now to green isles of shade and dew 
 
 Turning the waste thy people trod; 
 
 Draw, Holy Ghost, thy seven-fold veil 
 Between us and the fires of youth; 
 
 Breathe, Holy Ghost, thy freshening gale, 
 Our fever'd brow in age to soothe. 
 
 And oft as sin and sorrow tire, 
 
 The hallow'd hour do Thou renew, 
 
 When beckon'd up the awful choir 
 
 By pastoral hands, toward Thee we drew; 
 
 When trembling at the sacred rail 
 We hid our eyes and held our breath, 
 
 Felt Thee how strong, our hearts how frail, 
 And long'd to own Thee to the death. 
 
 For ever on our souls be trac'd 
 
 That blessing dear, that dove-like hand, 
 
 A sheltering rock in Memory's waste, 
 O'ershadowing all the weary land. 
 
289 
 
 MATRIMONY. 
 
 THERE is an awe in mortals' joy, 
 
 A deep mysterious fear 
 Half of the heart will still employ, 
 
 As if we drew too near 
 To Eden's portal, and those fires 
 That bicker round in wavy spires, 
 Forbidding, to our frail desires, 
 
 What cost us once so dear. 
 
 We cower before th' heart-searching eye 
 
 In rapture as in pain; 
 Even wedded Love, till Thou be nigh, 
 
 Dares not believe her gain: 
 Then in the air she fearless springs, 
 The breath of Heaven beneath her wings, 
 And leaves her woodnote wild, and sings 
 
 A tun'd and measur'd strain. 
 
 Ill fare the lay, though soft as dew 
 
 And free as air it fall, 
 That, with thine altar full in view, 
 
 Thy votaries would enthrall 
 To a foul dream, of heathen night, 
 Lifting her torch in Love's despite, 
 And scaring with base wildfire light 
 
 The sacred nuptial hall. 
 25 
 
290 Matrimony. 
 
 Far other strains, far other fires, 
 
 Our marriage offering grace; 
 Welcome, all chaste and kind desires, 
 
 With even matron pace 
 Approaching down the hallow'd aisle! 
 Where should ye seek Love's perfect smile, 
 But where your prayers were learn'd erewhile, 
 
 In her own native place]* 
 
 Where, but on His benignest brow, 
 Who waits to bless you here? 
 
 Living, He own'd no nuptial vow, 
 No bower to Fancy dear: 
 
 Love's very self — for Him no need 
 
 To nurse, on earth, the heavenly seed: 
 
 Yet comfort in His eye we read 
 For bridal joy and fear. 
 
 'Tis He who clasps the marriage band, 
 
 And fits the spousal ring, 
 Then leaves ye kneeling, hand in hand, 
 
 Out of His stores to bring 
 His Father's dearest blessing, shed 
 Of old on Isaac's nuptial bed, 
 Now on the board before ye spread 
 
 Of our all-bounteous King. 
 
 All blessings of the breast and womb, 
 Of heaven and earth beneath, 
 
 Of converse high, and sacred home, 
 Are yours, in life and death. 
 
 Only kneel on, nor turn away 
 
 From the pure shrine, where Christ to-day 
 
 Will store each flower, ye duteous lay, 
 For an eternal wreath. 
 
 * [Marriage should always be performed in the church. There is a 
 departure in this respect from her provisions, and from Christian pro- 
 priety, much to be regretted n 
 
 
291 
 
 VISITATION AND COMMUNION OF 
 THE SICK. 
 
 YOUTH and Joy, your airy tread 
 Too lightly springs by Sorrow's bed, 
 Your keen eyeglances are too bright, 
 Too restless for a sick man's sight. 
 Farewell: for one short life we part: 
 
 1 rather woo the soothing art, 
 Which only souls in sufferings tried 
 Bear to their suffering brethren's side. 
 
 Where may we learn that gentle spell"? 
 Mother of Martyrs, thou canst tell! 
 Thou, who didst watch thy dying Spouse 
 With pierced hands and bleeding brows, 
 Whose tears from age to age are shed 
 O'er sainted sons untimely dead, 
 If e'er we charm a soul in pain, 
 Thine is the key-note of our strain. 
 
 How sweet with thee to lift the latch, 
 Where Faith has kept her midnight watch, 
 Smiling on woe: with thee to kneel, 
 Where fix'd, as if one prayer could heal, 
 She listens, till her pale eye glow 
 With joy, wild health can never know, 
 And each calm feature, ere we read, 
 Speaks, silently, thy glorious Creed. 
 
292 Visitation and Communion of the Sick. 
 
 Such have I seen: and while they pour'd 
 Their hearts in every contrite word, 
 How have I rather long'd to kneel 
 And ask of them sweet pardon's seal! 
 How bless'd the heavenly music brought 
 By thee to aid my faltering thought! 
 " Peace" ere we kneel, and when we cease 
 To pray, the farewell word is, "Peace."* 
 
 I came again: the place was bright 
 " With something of celestial light" — 
 A simple altar by the bed 
 For high Communion meetly spread, 
 Chalice, and plate, and snowy vest. — 
 We ate and drank: then calmly blest, 
 All mourners, one with dying breath, 
 We sate and talk'd of Jesus' death. 
 
 Once more I came: the silent room 
 Was veil'd in sadly-soothing gloom, 
 And ready for her last abode 
 The pale form like a lily show'd, 
 By virgin fingers duly spread, 
 And priz'd for love of summer fled. 
 The light from those soft-smiling eyes 
 Had fleeted to its parent skies. 
 
 O soothe us, haunt us, night and day, 
 Ye gentle Spirits far away, 
 With whom we shar'd the cup of grace, 
 Then parted; ye to Christ's embrace, 
 We to the lonesome world again, 
 Yet mindful of th' unearthly strain 
 Practis'd with you at Eden's door, 
 To be sung on, where angels soar, 
 With blended voices evermore. 
 
 * [At his entrance, the minister says, " Peace be to this house, and 
 to all that dwell in it." The blessing, at the close, concludes with 
 these words, " The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give 
 thee peace both now and evermore."] 
 
 
293 
 
 BURIAL OF THE DEAD 
 
 And «hpn the Lord saw her. He had compassion on her, and said 
 unto her. Weep not. And he came and touched the bier (and they that 
 bare him stood still) and He said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. 
 St. Luke vii. 13, 14. 
 
 "WHO says, the wan autumnal sun 
 
 Beams with too faint a smile 
 To light up nature's face again, 
 And, though the year he on the wane, 
 
 'With thoughts of spring the heart beguile? 
 
 Waft him, thou soft September breeze, 
 
 And gently lay him down 
 Within some circling woodland wall, 
 Where bright leaves, reddening ere they fall, 
 
 Wave gaily o'er the waters brown. 
 
 And let some graceful arch be there 
 
 With wreathed mullions proud, 
 With burnish'd ivy for its screen, 
 And moss, that glows as fresh and green 
 
 As though beneath an April cloud. — 
 
 Who says the widow's heart must break, 
 
 The childless mother sink? — 
 A kinder truer voice I hear, 
 Which even beside that mournful bier 
 
 Whence parents* eves would hopeless shrink. 
 05* 
 
294 Burial of the Dead. 
 
 Bids weep no more — O heart bereft, 
 How strange, to thee, that sound! 
 
 A widow o'er her only son, 
 
 Feeling- more bitterly alone 
 
 For friends that press officious round. 
 
 Yet is the voice of comfort heard, 
 
 For Christ hath touch'd the bier — 
 The bearers wait with wondering eye, 
 The swelling bosom dares not sigh, 
 But all is still, 'twixt hope and fear. 
 
 Even such an awful soothing calm 
 
 We sometimes see alight 
 On Christian mourners, while they wait 
 In silence, by some church-yard gate, 
 
 Their summons to the holy rite. 
 
 And such the tones of love, which break 
 
 The stillness of that hour, 
 Quelling th' embitter'd spirit's strife — 
 "The Resurrection aud the Life 
 
 " Am I: believe, and die no more." 
 
 Unchang'd that voice — and though not yet 
 
 The dead sit up and speak, 
 Answering its call; we gladlier rest 
 Our darlings on earth's quiet breast, 
 
 And our hearts feel they must not break. 
 
 Far better they should sleep awhile 
 
 Within the church's shade, 
 Nor wake, until new heaven, new earth, 
 Meet for their new immortal birth, 
 
 For their abiding place be made, 
 
 Than wander back to life, and lean 
 On our frail love once more. 
 
 
Burial of the Dead. 295 
 
 'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose 
 Friends out of sight, in faith to muse 
 How grows in Paradise our store. 
 
 Then pass, ye mourners, cheerly on, 
 
 Through prayer unto the tomb, 
 Still, as ye watch life's falling leaf, 
 Gathering from every loss and grief 
 
 Hope of new spring and endless home. 
 
 Then cheerly to your work again 
 
 With hearts new-brac'd and set 
 To run, untir'd, love's blessed race, 
 As meet for those, who face to face 
 
 Over the grave their Lord have met. 
 
 CHURCHING OF WOMEN.* 
 
 IS there, in bowers of endless spring, 
 One known from all the seraph band 
 By softer voice, by smile and wing 
 More exquisitely bland ! 
 Here let him speed: to-day this hallow'd air 
 Is fragrant with a mother's first and fondest prayer. 
 
 Only let Heaven her fire impart, 
 
 No richer incense breathes on earth: 
 
 " A spouse with all a daughter's heart," 
 
 Fresh from the perilous birth, 
 
 * [Why is it that this beautiful and most affecting rite is so little 
 observed? Ought nut the appropriate thanksgiving, at least, be offered, 
 in acknowledgment of God's great mercy, by every mother?] 
 
2.16 Churching of Women. 
 
 To the great Father lifts her pale glad eye, 
 Like a reviving flower when storms are hush'd on high. 
 
 O w r hat a treasure of sweet thought 
 
 Is here! what hope and joy and love 
 All in one tender bosom brought, 
 For the all -gracious Dove 
 To brood o'er silently, and form for heaven 
 Each passionate wish and dream to dear affection given. 
 
 Her fluttering heart, too keenly blest, 
 
 Would sicken, but she leans on Thee, 
 Sees Thee by faith on Mary's breast, 
 And breathes serene and free. 
 Slight tremblings only of her veil declare* 
 Soft answers duly whisper'd to each soothing prayer. 
 
 We are too weak, when Thou dost bless, 
 
 To bear the joy— help, Virgin-born! 
 By thine own mother's first caress, 
 That wak'd thy natal morn ! 
 Help, by the unexpressive smile, that made 
 A heaven on earth around the couch where Thou wast 
 laid! 
 
 * When the woman comes to this office, the rubric (as it was alterrd 
 at the last review) directs that she be decently apparelled, i. e. a* the 
 custom and order was formerly, with a white covering or veil. Whcatley 
 on the Common Prayer, c. xiii. sect. i. 3. 
 
^97 
 
 C M M I N A T I N . * 
 
 THE prayers are o'er: why slumberest thou so long, 
 
 Thou voice of sacred song] 
 Why swell'st thou not, like breeze from mountain 
 cave, 
 High o'er the echoing nave, 
 The white-rob'd priest, as otherwhile to guide, 
 Up to the altar's northern side] — 
 A mourner's tale of shame and sad decay 
 Keeps back our glorious sacrifice to-day: 
 
 The widow'd Spouse of Christ: with ashes crown'd, 
 
 Her Christmas robes unbound, 
 She lingers in the porch for grief and fear, 
 
 Keeping her penance drear. — 
 is it nought to you] that idly gay, 
 Or coldly proud, ye turn away] 
 But if her warning tears in vain be spent, 
 Lo, to her alter'd eye the Law's stern fires are lent 
 
 Each awful curse, that on Mount Ebal rang, 
 
 Peals with a direr clang 
 Out of that silver trump, whose tones of old 
 
 Forgiveness only told. 
 
 * [" A Commiii.it ion, or denouncing of God's anger and judgments 
 against sinners, with certain prayers, to be used on the first day of 
 Lent, and at other times, as the ordinary ; shall appoint." This service 
 is not retained in the Liturgy of the American Church.] 
 
298 Comminution. 
 
 And who can blame the mother's fond affright,* 
 Who sporting on some giddy height 
 Her infant sees, and springs with hurried hand 
 To snatch the rover from the dangerous strand? 
 
 But surer than all words the silent spell 
 
 (So Grecian legends tell) 
 When to her bird, too early scap'd the nest, 
 
 She bares her tender breast. 
 Smiling he turns and spreads his little wing, 
 There to glide home, there safely cling. 
 So yearns our mother o'er each truant son, 
 So softly falls the lay in fear and wrath begun. 
 
 Wayward and spoil'd she knows ye: the keen blast, 
 
 That brac'd her youth, is past: 
 The rod of discipline, the robe of shame- 
 She bears them in your name: 
 Only return and love. But ye perchance 
 Are deeper plung'd in sorrow's trance: 
 Your God forgives, but ye no comfort take 
 Till ye have scourg'd the sins that in your conscience ache. 
 
 O heavy laden soul ! kneel down and hear 
 
 Thy penance in calm fear: 
 With thine own lips to sentence all thy sin; 
 
 Then, by the judge within 
 Absolv'd, in thankful sacrifice to part 
 For ever with thy sullen heart, 
 Nor on remorseful thoughts to brood, and stain 
 The glory of the Cross, forgiven and cheer'd in vain. 
 
 * Alluding to a beautiful anecdote in the Greek Anthology, torn. i. 
 180, ed. Jacobs. See Pleasures of Memory, p J33. 
 
 [" While on the cliff with calm delight she kneels, 
 
 And the blue vales a thousand joys recall, 
 See, to the last, last verge her infant steals ! 
 
 O fly — yet stir not, speak not, lest it fall. 
 Far better taught, she lays her bosom baie, 
 And the fond boy springs back to nestle there!" 
 
 Rogers, from a Greek Epigram ] 
 
299 
 
 FORMS OF PRAYER TO BE USED AT SEA. 
 
 When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee. 
 
 Isaiah xliii. 2. 
 
 THE shower of moonlight falls as still and clear 
 
 Upon the desert main, 
 As where sweet flowers some pastoral garden cheer 
 
 With fragrance after rain: 
 The wild winds rustle in the piping shrouds, 
 
 As in the quivering trees: 
 Like summer fields, beneath the shadowy clouds 
 The 3"ielding waters darken in the breeze. 
 
 Thou too art here with thy soft inland tones, 
 
 Mother of our new birth;* 
 The lonely ocean learns thy orisons, 
 
 And loves thy sacred mirth: 
 When storms are high, or when the fires of war 
 
 Come lightening round our course, 
 Thou breath'st a note like music from afar, 
 
 Tempering rude hearts with calm angelic force. 
 
 Far, far away, the homesick seaman's hoard, 
 
 Thy fragant tokens live, 
 Like flower-leaves in a precious volume stor'd, 
 
 To solace and relieve 
 
 | The Church 
 
300 Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea. 
 
 Some heart too weary of the restless world; 
 
 Or like thy Sabbath Cross,* 
 That o'er the brightening billow streams unfurl'd, 
 Whatever gale the labouring vessel toss. 
 
 O kindly soothing in high Victory's hour, 
 
 Or when a comrade dies, 
 In whose sweet presence sorrow dares not lower, 
 
 Nor Expectation rise 
 Too high for earth; what mother's heart could spare 
 
 To the cold cheerless deep 
 Her flower and hope? but thou art with him there, 
 
 Pledge of the untir'd arm and eye that cannot sleep: 
 
 The eye that watches o'er wild Ocean's dead, 
 
 Each in his coral cave, 
 Fondly as if the green turf wrapt his head 
 
 Fast by his father's grave 
 
 Our moment, and the seeds of life shall spring 
 
 Out of the waste abyss, 
 And happy warriors triumph with their King 
 
 In worlds without a sea,f unchanging orbs of bliss. 
 
 * [The allusion is to the British flag, bearing a Cross, which is al- 
 ways displayed on Sundays.] 
 t And there was no more sea. Rev. xxi. 1. 
 
301 
 
 GUNPOWDER TREASON.* 
 
 [NOVEMBER 5.] 
 
 As thou hast testified- of me at Jerusalem, so must thou also bear 
 witness at Rome. Acts xxiii. 11. 
 
 BENEATH the burning eastern sky 
 
 The Cross was rais'd at morn: 
 The widow'd Church to weep stood by, 
 
 The world, to hate and scorn. 
 
 Now, journeying westward, evermore 
 
 We know the lonely Spouse 
 By the dear mark her Saviour bore 
 
 Trac'd on her patient brows. 
 
 At Rome she wears it, as of old 
 
 Upon th' accursed hill: 
 By monarchs clad in gems and gold, 
 
 She goes a mourner still. 
 
 She mourns that tender hearts should bend 
 
 Before a meaner shrine, 
 And upon Saint or Angel spend 
 
 The love that should be thine. 
 
 + [The 5th of November is kept as a holiday by the Church of Eng- 
 land in commemoration of the wonderful preservation vouchsafed to 
 her on that day, in the year 1C05, by the discovery of the Gunpowder 
 Plot.] 
 
 26 
 
302 Gunpowder Treason. 
 
 By day and night her sorrows fall 
 
 Where miscreant hands and rude 
 
 Have stain'd her pure ethereal pall 
 With many a martyr's blood. 
 
 And yearns not her parental heart, 
 To hear their secret sighs, 
 
 Upon whose doubting way apart 
 Bewildering shadows rise? 
 
 Who to her side in peace would cling, 
 But fear to wake, and find 
 
 What they had deem'd her genial wing 
 Was Error's soothing blind. 
 
 She treasures up each throbbing prayer: 
 Come, trembler, come and pour 
 
 Into her bosom all thy care, 
 For she has balm in store. 
 
 Her gentle teaching sweetly blends 
 With the clear light of Truth 
 
 The' aerial gleam that Fancy lends 
 To solemn thoughts in youth. — 
 
 If thou hast lov'd, in hours of gloom, 
 To dream the dead are near, 
 
 And people all the lonely room 
 With guardian spirits dear, 
 
 Dream on the soothing dream at will: 
 
 The lurid mist is o'er, 
 That show'd the righteous suffering still 
 
 Upon th' eternal shore. 
 
 If with thy heart the strains accord, 
 That on His altar-throne 
 
 Highest exalt thy glorious Lord, 
 Yet leave Him most thine own; 
 
Gunpowder Treason. 303 
 
 O come to our Communion Feast: 
 
 There present in the heart, 
 Not in the hands, th' eternal Priest 
 
 Will his true self impart. — 
 
 Thus, should thy soul misgiving turn 
 
 Back to th' enchanted air, 
 Solace and warning thou mayst learn 
 
 From all that tempts thee there. 
 
 And ! by all the pangs and fears 
 
 Fraternal spirits know, 
 When for an elder's shame the tears 
 
 Of wakeful anguish flow, 
 
 Speak gently of our sister's fall: 
 
 Who knows but gentle love 
 May win her at our patient call 
 
 The surer way to prove?* 
 
 * [Would that there were more to join in this, as truly wise as it is 
 truly pious, sentiment! What have Christian men to do with calling 
 down fire from heaven? When was conversion ever effected by com- 
 pulsion? Or what was it worth when effected? " A soft answer tiinieth 
 away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.'] 
 
304 
 
 KING CHARLES THE MARTYR.* 
 
 [JANUARY 30.] 
 
 This is thankworthy, if a man for conscience towards God endure 
 grief, suffering wrongfully. 1 St. Peter ii. 19. 
 
 PRAISE to our pardoning God ! though silent now 
 
 The thunders of the deep prophetic sky, 
 Though in our sight no powers of darkness bow 
 
 Before th' Apostles' glorious company; 
 
 The Martyrs' noble army still is ours, 
 
 Far in the North our fallen days have seen 
 
 How in her woe the tenderest spirit towers, 
 For Jesus' sake in agony serene. 
 
 Praise to our God ! not cottage hearths alone, 
 
 And shades impervious to the proud world's glare, 
 
 Such witness yield: a monarch from his throne 
 Springs to his Cross and finds his glory there. 
 
 Yes: wheresoe'er one trace of thee is found, 
 As in the Sacred Land, the shadows fall: 
 
 With beating hearts we roam the haunted ground, 
 Lone battle field, or crumbling prison hall. 
 
 * [The anniversary of the heheading of King Charles I., in 1649, 
 commemorated in the calendar of the Church of England. J 
 
King Charles the Martyr. 305 
 
 And there are aching solitary breasts, 
 
 Whose widcw'd walk with thought of thee is cheer'd, 
 Our own, our royal Saint: thy memory rests 
 
 On many a prayer, the more for thee endear'd. 
 
 True son of our dear Mother, early taught 
 
 With her to worship and for her to die, 
 Nurs'd in her aisles to more than kingly thought, 
 
 Oft in her solemn hours we dream thee nigh. 
 
 For thou didst love to trace her daily lore, 
 And where we look for comfort or for calm, 
 
 Over the self-same lines to bend, and pour* 
 Thy heart with hers in some victorious psalm. 
 
 And well did she thy loyal love repay; 
 
 When all forsook, her Angels still were nigh, 
 Chain'd and bereft, and on thy funeral way, 
 
 Straight to the Cross she turn'd thy dying eye,f 
 
 And yearly now, before the Martyrs 1 King, 
 
 For thee she offers her maternal tears, 
 Calls us, like thee, to His dear feet to cling, 
 
 And bury in His wounds our earthly fears. 
 
 The Angels hear, and there is mirth in Heaven, 
 Fit preiude of the joy, when spirit's won 
 
 Like thee to patient Faith, shall rise forgiven, 
 
 And at their Saviour's knees thy bright example own. 
 
 * [Surely an edition of the "Icon Basilike" would well repay the 
 enterprize of publication.] 
 
 t His Maje-ty then bade him (Mr. Herbert) withdraw; for he was 
 about an hour in private with the Bishop (Juxoti): and being called in, 
 the Bishop went to prayer; and reading also the 27th chapter of the 
 Gospel of rit. Matthew, which r<:lateth the passion of our Blessed 
 Saviour. The King, after the service was done, asked the Bishop, if 
 he had made choice of that chapter, being so applicable to his present 
 condition? The Bishop replied, " May it please your Gracious Majesty, 
 it is the proper lesson fur the day, as appears by the Calendar;" which 
 the King was much affected with, so aptly serving as a seasonable pre- 
 paration for his death that dav. Herbert's Memoirs, p. 131. 
 
 26* 
 
306 
 
 THE RESTORATION OF THE ROYAL 
 FAMILY.* 
 
 [may 20.] 
 
 And Barzillai said unto the King, How lone have I to live, that I 
 should go up with the King unto Jerusalem? 2 Sam. xix. 34. 
 
 AS when the Paschal week is o'er, 
 Sleeps in the silent aisles no more 
 
 The breath of sacred song, 
 But by the rising Saviour's light 
 Awaken'd soars in airy flight; 
 
 Or deepening rolls along;f 
 
 The while round altar, niche, and shrine, 
 The funeral evergreens entwine, 
 
 And a dark brilliance cast, 
 The brighter for their hues of gloom, 
 Tokens of Him, who through the tomb 
 
 Into high glory pass'd: 
 
 Such were the lights and such the strains, 
 When proudly stream'd o'er Ocean plains 
 Our own returning Cross; 
 
 * [The anniversary of the Restoration of Charles II. to the throne, 
 in 1*3150, commemorated in the Church of England] 
 
 t The organ is silent in many Churches during Passion week: and 
 in some it is the custom to put up evergreen boughs at Easter, as well 
 as at Christmas time. 
 
The Restoration of Royal Family, 307 
 
 For with that triumph seem'd to float 
 Far on the breeze one dirgelike note 
 Of orphanhood and loss. 
 
 Father and King, O where art thou] 
 A greener wreath adorns thy brow, 
 
 And clearer rays surround; 
 O for one hour of prayer like thine, 
 To plead before th' all-ruling shrine 
 
 For Britain lost and found ! 
 
 And he,* whose mild persuasive voice 
 Taught us in trials to rejoice, 
 
 * Read Fell's Life of Hammond, p. 233—296, Oxford, 1805. 
 
 [" At the opening of the year 1660, when every thing visibly tended 
 to the reduction of his Sacred Majesty, and all persons in their several 
 stations began to make way and prepare for it, the good doctor (Ham- 
 mond) was, by the fathers of the Church, desired to repair to London, 
 there to assist in the composure of breaches in the Church: which 
 summons as he resolved untit either to dispute or disobey, so could he 
 not, without much violence to his inclinations, submit unto. But, 
 finding it his duty, he diverted all the uneasiness of antipathy and 
 aversion into a deliberate preparation of himself for this new theatre 
 of affairs, on which he was to enter. Where his first care was to 
 fortify his mind against the usual temptations of business, place and 
 power. And to this purpose, besides his earnest prayers to God for 
 liis assistance and disposal of him entirely to his glory, and a diligent 
 survey of all his inclinations, and therein those which were his more 
 open and less defensible parts, he farther called in, and solemnly ad- 
 jured that friend of his, with whom he had the nearest opportunity of 
 commerce, to study and examine the last ten years of his life, and with 
 the justice due to a Christian friendship to observe the failances of all 
 kinds, and show them to him: which being accordingly attempted, the 
 product, after a diligent inquest, only proving the representation of 
 such defects which might have passed for virtue in another person; his 
 next prospect was abroad, what several ways he might do good unto 
 the public: and knowing that the diocese of Worcester was, by the 
 favor of his majesty, designed his charge, he thought of several oppor- 
 tunities of charity unto that place, and, among others, particularly 
 cast in his mind for the repair of the cathedral church, and laid the 
 foundation of a considerable advance unto that work. Which early 
 care is hare mentioned as an instance of his inflamed desire of doing 
 good, and singular zeal to the house of God, and the restoring of a de- 
 cent worship in a like decent place: for otherwise it was far from his 
 custom to look forward into future events, but still to attend and fol- 
 low after Providence, and let every day bear its own evil. And now, 
 
308 The Restoration of the Royal Family. 
 
 Most like a faithful Dove, 
 That by some ruin'd homestead builds, 
 And pours to the forsaken fields 
 
 His wonted lay of love: 
 
 considering that the nation was under its great crisis and most hope- 
 ful method ot its cure, which yet, if palliate and imperfect, would only 
 make way to more fatal sickness, he fell to his devotions on that be- 
 half, and made those two excellent prayers,* which were published im- 
 
 * [See Works, vol i 727. The following is submitted as a specimen, 
 from the former of them. 
 
 " O blessed Lord, who in thine infinite mercy didst vouchsafe to plant 
 a glorious Church among us, and now in thy just judgment hast per- 
 mitted our sins and follies to root it up, be pleased at last to resume 
 thoughts of peace towards us, that we may do the like to one another. 
 Lord, look down from heaven, the habitation of thy holiness, and be- 
 hold the ruins of a desolated Church, and compassionate to see her in 
 the dust. Behold her, O Lord, not only broken., but crumbled, divided 
 into so many sects and factions, that she no longer represents the Ark 
 of the God of Israel, where the covenant and the manna were con- 
 served, but the Ark of Noah, filled with all various sorts of unclean 
 beasts: and to complete our misery and guilt, the spirit of division 
 hath insinuated itself as well into our affections as our judgments: 
 that badge of disci pleship which thou recommendedst to us is cast off, 
 and all the contrary wrath and bitterness, anger and clamour, called 
 in to maintain and widen our breaches. Lord, how long shall we 
 thus violate and defame that gospel of peace that we profess! How 
 long shall we thus madly defeat ourselves, and lose that Christianity 
 which we pretend to strive for! O thou which makest men to be of 
 one mind in a house, be pleased so to unite us, that we may be per- 
 fectly joined together in the same mind, and in the same judgment. 
 And now that in civil affairs there seems some aptness to a composure, 
 O let not our spiritual differences be more unreconcilable. Lord, let 
 not the roughest winds blow out of the sanctuary: let not those which 
 should be thy ambassadors for peace still sound a trumpet for war: but 
 do thou reveal thyself to all our Elijah-;, in that still small voice which 
 may teach them to echo thee in the like meek treatings with others. 
 Lord, let no unseasonable stiffness of those that are in the right, no 
 perverse obstinacy of those that are in the wrong, hinder the closing 
 of our wounds; but let the one instruct in meekness, and be thou 
 pleased to give the other repentance to the acknowledgement of the 
 truth. To this end, do thou, O Lord, mollify all exasperated minds, 
 take off all animosities and prejudices, contempt and heartburnings, 
 and, by uniting their hearts, prepare for the reconciling their opinions. 
 And that nothing may intercept the clear sight of thy truth, Lord, let 
 all private and secular designs be totally deposited, that gain may no 
 longer be the measure of our godliness, but the one great and common 
 concernment of truth and peace may be unanimously and vigorously 
 pursued. &c."] 
 
The Restoration of the Royal Family. 309 
 
 Why comes he not to bear his part, 
 To lift and guide th' exulting heart? — 
 A hand that cannot spare 
 
 mediately after his death, as they had been made immediately before 
 his sickness, and were almost the very last thing he wrote. 
 
 " Being in this state of mind, fully prepared for that new course of 
 life, which had nothing to recommend it to his taste but its unpleasant- 
 ness (the best allective unto him), he expected hourly the peremptory 
 mandate which was to call him forth of his beloved retirements. 
 
 "But in the instant, a more importunate, though infinitely more 
 welcome summons engaged him on his last journey: for, on the 4th of 
 April, he was seized with a sharp fit of the stone, with those symptoms 
 that are usual in such cases; which yet. upon the voidance of a stone, 
 ceased for that time. However, on the 8th of the same month, it re- 
 turned again with greater violence: and though after two days the pain 
 decreased, the suppression of urine yet continued, with frequent vo- 
 mitings, and a distention of the whole body, and likewise shortness of 
 breath, upon any little motion. When, as if he had, by some instinct, 
 a certain knowledge of the issue of his sickness, he almost, at its first 
 approach, conceived himself in hazard: and whereas at other times, 
 when he saw his friends about him fearful, he was used to reply cheer- 
 fully, " that he was not dying yet;" now in the whole current of his 
 disease, he never said any thing to avert suspicion, but addressed unto 
 its cure, telling his friends with whom he was, 'that he should leave 
 them in God's hands, who could supply abundantly all the assistance 
 they could either expect or desire from him, and who would so provide, 
 that they should not find his removal any loss.' And when he observed 
 one of them with some earnestness pray for his health and continu- 
 ance, he with tender passion replied, * I observe your zeal spends itself 
 all in that one petition for my recovery; in the interim you have no 
 care of me in my greatest interest, which is, that I may be perfectly 
 fitted for my change when God shall call me: 1 pray let some of your 
 fervor be employed that way.' And being pressed to make it his own 
 request to God to be continued longer in the world, to the service of the 
 Church, he immediately began a solemn prayer, which contained, first, 
 a very humble and melting acknowledgment of sin, and a most earnest 
 intercession for mercy and forgiveness through the merits of his Sa- 
 viour: next, resigning himself entirely into his Maker's hands, he beg- 
 ged that if the divine wisdom intended him for death, he might have a 
 due preparation for it; but if his life might be in any degree useful to 
 the Church, even to one single soul, be then besought Almighty God to 
 continue him, and by his grace to enable him to employ that life he so 
 vouchsafed, industriously and successfully. After this he did with 
 great affection intercede for this Church and nation, and with particu- 
 lar vigor and enforcement prayed for sincere performance of Christian 
 duty, now so much decayed, to the equal supplanting and scandal of 
 that holy calling; that those who professed that faith, might live ac- 
 cording to the rules of it, and to the form of godliness, superadd the 
 power. This, with some repetitions, and more tears, he pursued, and 
 at last closed all in a prayer for the several concerns of the family 
 
310 The Restoration of the Royal Family. 
 
 Lies heavy on his gentle breast: 
 We wish him health; he sighs for rest, 
 And Heaven accepts the prayer. 
 
 Yes, go in peace, dear placid spright, 
 111 spar'd; but would we store aright 
 
 Thy serious sweet farewell, 
 We need not grudge thee to the skies, 
 Sure after thee in time to rise, 
 
 With thee for ever dwell. 
 
 Till then, whene'er with duteous hand, 
 Year after year, my native Land 
 
 Her royal offering brings, 
 Upon the Altar lays the Crown, 
 And spreads her robes of old renown 
 
 Before the King of Kings, 
 
 Be some kind spirit, likest thine, 
 Ever at hand, with airs divine 
 
 The wandering heart to seize; 
 Whispering, "How long hast thou to live, 
 "That thou shouldst Hope or Fancy give 
 
 "To flowers or crowns like these?" 
 
 where he was. With this he frequently blessed God for so far indulg- 
 ing to his infirmity, as to make his disease so painless to him ; withal 
 to send it to him before he took his journey, whereas it might have 
 taken him in the way or at his inn, with far greater disandvantages." 
 Bishop FelVs Life of Dr. Hammond, in Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical 
 Biography, vol. v. p. 428.J 
 
311 
 
 THE ACCESSION.* 
 
 As T was with Moses, so will I be with thee : I will never leave thee, 
 nor forsake thee. Joshua i. 5. 
 
 THE voice that from the glory came 
 
 To tell how Moses died unseen, 
 And waken Joshua's spear of flame 
 
 To victory on the mountains green, 
 Its trumpet tones are sounding still, 
 
 When Kings or Parents pass away, 
 They greet us with a cheering thrill 
 
 Of power and comfort in decay. 
 
 Behind the soft bright summer cloud 
 
 That makes such haste to melt and. die, 
 Our wistful gaze is oft allow'd 
 
 A glimpse of the unchanging sky: 
 Let storm and darkness do their worst; 
 
 For the lost dream the heart may ache, 
 The heart may ache, but may not burst: 
 
 Heaven will not leave thee nor forsake. 
 
 One rock amid the weltering floods, 
 
 One torch in a tempestuous night, 
 One changeless pine in fading woods: — 
 
 Such is the thought of Love and Might, 
 
 * [The anniversary of the day on which the reigning King comes to 
 the throne. 1 
 
312 The Accession. 
 
 True might and ever-present Love, 
 When Death is busy near the throne, 
 
 And Sorrow her keen sting would prove 
 On Monarchs orphan'd and alone. 
 
 In that lorn hour and desolate, 
 
 Who could endure a crown? but He, 
 Who singly bore the world's sad weight, 
 
 Is near, to whisper, " Lean on me: 
 "Thy days of toil, thy nights of care, 
 
 " Sad lonely dreams in crowded hall, 
 "Darkness within, while pageants glare 
 
 "Around — the Cross supports them all. 5 ' 
 
 O Promise of undying Love ! 
 
 While Monarchs seek thee for repose, 
 Far in the nameless mountain cove 
 
 Each pastoral heart thy bounties knows. 
 Ye, who in place of shepherds true 
 
 Come trembling to their awful trust, 
 Lo here the fountain to imbue 
 
 With strength and hope your feeble dust. 
 
 Not upon Kings or Priests alone 
 
 The power of that dear word is spent; 
 It chants to all in softest tone 
 
 The lowly lesson of Content: 
 Heaven's light is pour'd on high and low; 
 
 To high and low Heaven's Angel spake; 
 " Resign thee to thy weal or woe, 
 
 " I ne'er will leave thee nor forsake." 
 
313 
 
 ORDINATION. 
 
 After this, the Congregation shall be desired secretly in their prayers 
 to make their humble supplications to God for all these things ; for the 
 which prayers there shall be silence kept for a space. 
 
 After which shall be sung or said by the Bishop (the persons to be 
 ordained Priests all kneeling), " Veni, Creator Spiritus." 
 
 Rubric in the Office for Ordering of Priests. 
 
 'TWAS silence in thy temple, Lord, 
 
 When slowly through the hallow'd air 
 
 The spreading cloud of incense soar'd, 
 
 Charg'd with the breath of Israel's prayer. 
 
 'Twas silence round thy throne on high, 
 
 W T hen the last wondrous seal unclos'd,* 
 
 And in the portals of the sky 
 
 Thine armies awfully repos'd. 
 
 And this deep pause, that o'er us now 
 
 Is hovering, comes it not of Thee? 
 Is it not. like a Mother's vow, 
 
 W T hen with her darling on her knee, 
 
 She weighs and numbers o'er and o'er 
 
 Love's treasure hid in her fond breast, 
 
 To cull from that exhaustless store 
 The dearest blessing and the best? 
 
 * Rev. viii. 1. When He had opened the seventh seal, there was 
 silence in Heaven for the space of half an hour. 
 27 
 
314 Ordination. 
 
 And where shall Mother's bosom find, 
 With all its deep love-learned skill, 
 
 A prayer so sweetly to her mind, 
 As, in this sacred hour and still, 
 
 Is wafted from the white-rob'd choir, 
 Ere yet the pure high-breathed lay, 
 
 " Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire," 
 Rise floating on its dovelike way. 
 
 And when it comes, so deep and clear 
 The strain, so soft the melting fall, 
 
 It seems not to th' entranced ear 
 
 Less than thine own heart-cheering call, 
 
 Spirit of Christ — thine earnest given 
 
 That these our prayers are heard, and they,* 
 
 Who grasp, this hour, the sword of Heaven, 
 Shall feel thee on their weary way. 
 
 Oft as at morn or soothing eve 
 
 Over the Holy Fount they lean, 
 
 Their fading garland freshly weave, 
 Or fan them with thine airs serene. 
 
 Spirit of Light and Truth ! to Thee 
 
 We trust them in that musing hour, 
 
 Till they, with open heart and free, 
 
 Teach all Thy word in all its power. 
 
 When foemen watch their tents by night, 
 And mists hang wide o'er moor and fell, 
 
 * [It were much to be desired, that the prayers " for those to be ad- 
 mitted into Holy Orders," which are included among the occasional 
 prayers which follow immediately after the Laity, should be used as 
 often as may be, previously to every ordination. The effect could not 
 but be favourable, not only on the candidate for whom, but on the 
 congregation by whom, they are used.) 
 
Ordination. 815 
 
 Spirit of Counsel and of Might, 
 
 Their pastoral warfare guide Thou well. 
 
 And ! when worn and tir'd they sigh 
 
 With that more fearful war within, 
 When Passion's storms are loud and high, 
 
 And brooding o'er remember'd sin 
 
 The heart dies down* — O mightiest then, 
 Come ever true, come ever near, 
 
 [th 
 
 E ORDINAL 
 
 Ala? for me if I forget 
 
 The memory of that day 
 Which fills my waking thoughts, nor yet 
 
 E'en sleep can take away ! 
 In dreams I still renew the rites 
 
 Whose strong but mystic chain 
 The spirit to its God unites, 
 
 And none can part again. 
 
 How eft the Bishop's form I'see, 
 
 And hear that thrilling tone 
 Demanding with authority 
 
 Tlie heart for God alone; 
 Again I kneel as then I knelt, 
 
 \\ hile he above me stands. 
 And seem to feel as then 1 felt 
 
 The pressure of his hands. 
 
 Again the priests in meet array, 
 
 As my weak spirit fails, 
 Beside me bend them down to pray 
 
 Before the chancel rails; 
 As then, the sacramental host 
 
 Of God's elect are by, 
 When many a voice its utterance lost, 
 
 And tears dimmed many an eye. 
 
 As then they on my vision rose, 
 
 The vaulted aisles I see, 
 And desk and cushioned book repose 
 
 In solemn sanctity, — 
 The mitre o'er the marble niche, 
 
 The broken crook and key, 
 That from a Bishop's tomb shone rich 
 
 With polished tracery; 
 
316 Ordination. 
 
 And wake their slumbering love again, 
 Spirit of God's most holy fear! 
 
 The hangings, the baptismal font, 
 
 All, all, save me unchanged, 
 The holy table, as was wont, 
 
 With decency arranged; 
 The linen cloth, the plate, the cup, 
 
 Beneath their covering shine. 
 Ere priestly hands are lifted up 
 
 To bless the bread and wine. 
 
 The solemn ceremonial past, 
 
 And I am set apart 
 To serve the Lord, from first to last, 
 
 With undivided heart; 
 And I have sworn, with pledges dire 
 
 Which God and man have heard, 
 To speak the holy truth entire 
 
 In action and in word. 
 
 O thou who in thy holy place 
 
 Hast set thine orders three, 
 Grant me, thy meanest servant, grace 
 
 To win a good degree; 
 That so replenished from above 
 
 And in my office tried, 
 Thou may'st be honoured, and in love 
 
 Thy Church be edified! „ ., , 
 
 Rev. William Croswcll.j 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Morning, .13 
 
 Evening, .15 
 
 Advent Sunday, 18 
 
 Second Sunday in Advent. The Signs of the Times, 22 
 
 Third Sunday in Advent. The Travellers, . . 25 
 Fourth Sunday in Advent. Dimness, . . .28 
 
 Christmas Day, 31 
 
 St. Stephen's Day, 35 
 
 St. John's Day, 38 
 
 The Holy Innocents, . ... . . .40 
 
 First Sunday after Christmas. The Sun-dial of Ahaz, 42 
 
 The Circumcision of Christ, 45 
 
 Second Sunday after Christmas. The Pilgrim's Song, 48 
 
 The Epiphany, 51 
 
 First Sunday after Epiphany. The Nightingale, 54 
 Second Sunday after Epiphany. The Secret of Per- 
 petual Youth, 57 
 
 Third Sunday after Epiphany. The Good Centurion, 60 
 Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. The World is for 
 
 Excitement, the Gospel for Soothing, . . 63 
 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. Cure Sin and you 
 
 cure Sorrow, 65 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. The Benefits of Un- 
 certainty, 68 
 
 Septuagesima Sunday, 71 
 
 Sexagesima Sunday, 73 
 
 Quinquagesima Sunday, 76 
 
 Ash-Wednesday, 79 
 
318 Contents. 
 
 First Sunday in Lent. The City of Refuge, . 81 
 Second Sunday in Lent. Esau's Forfeit, . . 84 
 Third Sunday in Lent. The Spoils of Satan, . 87 
 Fourth Sunday in Lent. The Rosebud, . . .90 
 Fifth Sunday in Lent. The Burning Bash, . 93 
 
 Palm Sunday. The Children in the Temple, . . 96 
 Monday before Easter. Christ waiting for the Cross, 98 
 Tuesday before Easter. Christ refusing the Wine 
 
 and Myrrh, 101 
 
 Wednesday before Easter. Christ in the Garden, . 103 
 Thursday before Easter. The Vision of the latter 
 
 days, 106 
 
 Good Friday, 109 
 
 Easter Eve, 112 
 
 Easter Day, 115 
 
 Monday in Easter Week. St. Peter and Cornelius, 118 
 Tuesday in Easter Week. The Snow Drop, . 121 
 First Sunday after Easter. The Restless Pastor re- 
 proved, 123 
 
 Second Sunday after Easter. Balaam, . . . 126 
 Third Sunday after Easter. Languor and Travail, 129 
 Fourth Sunday after Easter. The Dove on the Cross, 132 
 Fifth Sunday after Easter. Rogation Sunday, . 135 
 
 Ascension Day, 138 
 
 Sunday after Ascension, 141 
 
 Whitsunday, 144 
 
 Monday in Whitsun-Week. The City of Confusion, 146 
 Tuesday in Whitsun-Week. Holy Orders, . .150 
 Trinity Sunday, . . . . . • .153 
 First Sunday after Trinity. Israel among the Ruins 
 
 of Canaan, 156 
 
 Second Sunday after Trinity. Charity the Life of 
 
 Faith, 158 
 
 Third Sunday after Trinity. Comfort for Sinners in 
 
 the presence of the Good, . . . .161 
 Fourth Sunday after Trinity. The Groans of Nature, 163 
 Fifth Sunday after Trinity. The Fishermen of Beth- 
 
 saida, 167 
 
Cow, 319 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Trinity. The Psalmist repenting, 170 
 Seventh Sunday after Trinity. The Fe:.s: in the 
 
 Wilderness, . . . . . .173 
 
 Eighth Sunday after Trinity. The Disobedient Pro- 
 phet, . . . . . . . .175 
 
 Ninth Sunday after Trinity. Elijah in Horeb. . 177 
 
 Tenth Sunday after Trinity. CI l m % over 
 
 Jerusalem 1 SI 
 
 Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. Gehazi reproved, 1 S3 
 :":h Sunday after Trinity. The Dei:" and Dumb, 155 
 Thirteenth Sunday aftei Trinity. M : ses :r. the Mount, 183 
 Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Ten Lepers. 192 
 Fifteenth Sundav after Trinitv. The Flowers of the 
 
 Field. . * . 194 
 
 Sixteenth Sundav after Trinitv. Hope is better than 
 
 Ease. . ' . 196 
 
 Seventeenth Sunday after Trinitv. Ezekiel's Vision 
 
 in the Temple, . . ' . . . ,199 
 
 Eighteenth Sunday after Trinitv. The Church in 
 
 the Wilderness, . . ' . . . . 000 
 Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. Shadrach, Mes- 
 
 hach, and Abednego. ..... 006 
 
 Twer.:ie:h v fterTrinity. Mountain Scenery. 208 
 
 Tarenty-fin Trinity. The Redbreast 
 
 in September, . . . . . . -210 
 
 Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity. The Rule of 
 
 Christian Forgivene?-. .... CIS 
 
 .v-third Sunday after Trinity. The Forest 
 
 Leaves in Autumn, . . . . .015 
 ty-fourm Sunday after Trinity. Imperfection 
 
 rf Human Symj my 017 
 
 Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity. The two Rain- 
 bows, 000 
 
 Sundav next before Advent. Self-examination before 
 
 at 000 
 
 St Andrew's Day 005 
 
 St. Thomas the Apostle, 228 
 
 Conversion of St. Paul 030 
 
320 
 
 Contents. 
 
 The Purification of St. Mary the Virgin, 
 
 St. Matthias' Day, 
 
 The Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 
 
 St. Mark's Day, 
 
 St. Philip and St. James's Day, . 
 St. Barnabas the Apostle, 
 St. John Baptist's Day, 
 
 St. Peter's Day, 
 
 St. James the Apostle, 
 
 St. Bartholomew the Apostle, 
 
 St. Matthew the Apostle, 
 
 St. Michael and all Angels, 
 
 St. Luke the Evangelist, 
 
 St. Simon and St. Jude, Apostles, . 
 
 All Saints' Day, 
 
 Holy Communion, 
 
 Holy Baptism, . . .... 
 
 Catechism, . . . . . 
 
 Confirmation, 
 
 Matrimony, 
 
 Visitation and Communion of the Sick, 
 Burial of the Dead, .... 
 
 Churching of Women, 
 
 Commination, 
 
 Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea, 
 Gunpowder Treason, .... 
 King Charles the Martyr, . 
 The Restoration of the Royal Family, , 
 The Accession, . . . 
 Ordination, 
 
 236 
 . 239 
 
 242 
 . 245 
 
 247 
 . 250 
 
 253 
 . 256 
 
 259 
 . 262 
 
 265 
 . 268 
 
 271 
 . 275 
 
 278 
 . 280 
 
 283 
 . 285 
 
 287 
 . 289 
 
 291 
 . 293 
 
 295 
 . 297 
 
 299 
 . 301 
 
 304 
 . 306 
 
 311 
 . 313