0155 FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Division < 0(SO fytfP/fl^ '^U^^y 'sfo^/^t '0*^ "December ffltaffl& m Z and Other Poems by // Charles Sanford Olmsted *> PHILADELPHIA GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. 1898 Copyright 1 898 by George W. Jacobs & Co. To Bnna d&orteon Cose and Gbe "Rev* fftanft JSurrowa 1Rea3or t /ft. a. A token of respect and affection Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/decembOOolms CONTENTS I DECEMBER MUSINGS II SALAMIS III SONNETS PAGE Autumn 37 Sunset 42 Subtle Music 43 Influence of Beauty 44 A Pearly Cloud Imparadised in Meads ... 45 Ye Tears and Smiles of Holy Infancy . . 46 Longings 47 Monastic Life 52 Egypt 60 The Nile 62 Greece 63 Rome 64 Italy 68 The Middle Ages 69 Cathedrals 73 The Jordan 74 Elijah 75 David 76 Ezekiel -77 Saint Paul 78 Saint Columba 79 CONTENTS Baptism of Ethelbert of Kent . Venerable Bede .... Thomas Cranmer Richard Hooker .... Launcelot Andrewes . Joseph Butler .... Jonathan Edwards The Church of England . Homer Dante GeorTery Chaucer John iMilton George Herbert .... Thomas Ken Samuel Taylor Coleridge . William Wordsworth Alfred Tennyson .... John Keble Arthur Cleveland Coxe A iMany Pinnacled .... God's Tabernacle Christ in Us Is There No Costly Ointment ? . What Myriad Rivers . Ember Day Blessed are They that by All Waters Sow The Gifts of God .... The Alchemist FAGB SO 8l 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 9i 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 VI CONTENTS PAGB O Let this be My Portion with the Blest . . 10S Our Feet shall Stand within Thy Gates . . 109 The Psalms no Te Deum Laudamus in The Collects 112 Brought to Baptism 113 Public Catechising 114 Voices of Children 115 The Sacrifice 116 Elisha's Bones 117 O When Shall all this World . . .118 With Him in the Holy Mount . . . 119 Lest Ye be Faint 120 Joy 121 Paradise 122 In That Day 123 The Peace of God 124 Peace is a Pearl 125 IV POEMS OF THE SPIRIT The Faithful Pastor 126 The Temporal and the Eternal .... 130 The Troubles of this Life 132 Clear Shining after Rain 133 To Comfort All that Mourn 134 Stir up Thy Strength and Come and Help us . 136 Our Shield and our Reward 138 vn CONTENTS The Father Seeketh Worshippers Would that all the Lord's People were Prophets The Pastor's Prayer . "He Wist not that it was True" God is Greater than our Heart . For Thou art with Me . All Day Long the Stars are Shining One Thing have 1 Desired The Eucharistic Hour Awake and Sing A Psalm of Gladness . By Thy Cross and Passion Why Weepest Thou ? Easter .... It is the Lord . Easter Joy Divine Gifts Saturday Evening . Sunday Morning Sunday Evening Eventide Be not Silent unto Me . A Little Hymn at Even Glorying in Jesus . Spiritual Joys My Portion . Where Dwellest Thou? The Shepherd's Voice . PAGE 139 I 4 I 142 144 I46 I48 149 151 153 155 158 l60 I6l l62 163 I6 5 166 I6 7 I69 171 173 174 176 178 179 l8l 182 I84 Vlll DECEMBER MUSINGS Introductory He lay within the deeper shade of death, And through sequestered rooms there came a breath Of peril and disease, and I, shut in From human fellowship, no peace could win From books nor anything; and then these lines And many hundreds more, like ivy vines Upon the church walls, grew from out my heart, And did a shelter from strong woe impart. December Musings let them now be called, And let them bless at least some spirits walled About and weary with the stress of fears — And so my God shall wipe away their tears. RBCTORY CHURCH OF ST. ASAPH bala, penna. i8q8 December Musings I Too fast we hasten through the flowery ways Of life's wide mysteries, as if for praise And saintly meditation few could find Those moments when at morn and eve the mind Might seek refreshment from God's holy works, In whose interior depths there lives and lurks A mystic lore. Each calm neglected hour We miss some touch of sweetness or of power. But why this haste ? Our time is lengthened out For spiritual visions, and our paths about Are strewn with lessons bright as dewy beads, When Morning walks among the summer meads. Our lives are poor when God can make them rich, His hills rise all about, while in the ditch We stay to dig, as if we there could see Some vestige of our immortality. DECEMBER. MUSINGS We toil so hard and lose our recompense, Begin to learn just when we're taken hence What treasures passed us by unrecognized, What gifts and glories that we never prized. Images of Eternal God are we, Whose light reveals itself wherein we see His children pray. Oh, why then should we fret Our souls away a little earth to get ? Arise and eat ; behold the ravens come To bring us food from out no narrow home, And see the waters clear as crystal flow From heavenly mountains to the plain below. The meat to eat that others know not of. The hidden manna and the cup of love, The palm-tree and the sweet sequestered well, All of His tender watchfulness do tell. Oh, sit thee down and rest, thou hung'ring heart That through long paths of fatal famine swart Hast wandered on ; unbind the sandals worn ; For His white robe exchange these garments torn. DECEMBER MUSINGS Anoint thy head and wash thy face the while And let the waters see that thou canst smile ; Take now no thought of time, but be refreshed, That with life's trials wast so long enmeshed. Thy weary cares shall pass so soon away That they should count e'en now no more than clay To Him whose ivory palaces outshine The house of Nero, or of Antonine. His banner over thee is love, His bowers Will shelter thee all through the midday hours ; Across the drowsy desert thou shalt see The gleaming domes of His eternity. II Silence unfolds her ancient mysteries And scatters them like flowers through all the skies The light sheds forth a comfort more serene ; The meadow lands are clothed with richer green ; The waters have foregone their former pride, And with a simple resignation glide Slowly along, but wear a purer hue By stretching waveless to the heavenly blue. DECEMBER MUSINGS For now has dawned the Lord's own holy day, And all the world has risen up to pray; Nature is charmed, and half forgets the while Her deeper energies, and stops to smile. The sire's rich voice is laden with a hymn Answered by robins on the maple's limb ; And softly sounds the solemn distant bell, Which makes the silence deeper with its spell. We hear the Scripture, and lift up the heart ; Grandsire and granddame each bears out a part In Jesus' words and with familiar prayers, Which take far off their sorrows and their cares. We hear a hymn now stealing down the hill, And pass out midst the trees to wait until It dies away, and then to worship go, Through sunny paths, with happy steps and slow. O heavenly is the church on summer morns Mid rural scenes ! How sweetly it adorns The verdant upland ! How its tapering spire Founded in massive tower and rising higher DECEMBER MUSINGS Than ancient trees around seems like a road Soon lost in light, that leads to the abode Of generations long since gone that way, And dwelling now within the clearer ray Of that celestial peace ! They once below Found sorrow's solace at the altar's glow, And we by faith, may see th' eternal light Break into stars, and quench our dreary night. Ill Sweet are the hours of Sunday afternoon Spent much alone, perchance with blissful boon Of breeze in some deep dell, and rare old book Of holy meditation, from which look With vivid spiritual glance the saints That did themselves impart to it with plaints All penitential now, and now with praise, And utmost-reaching sighs and fervent lays. To be alone with God at this blest time By Him made holy, and with light sublime Of Father, Son and Holy Ghost indued, Nor let the world, nor time's great wheels intrude : DECEMBER MUSINGS O this is to be great, this is to bring Ourselves within the shadow of His wing, And listen for His silence in the soul, And read the pages of His secret scroll. And then to walk along the little stream, And let the soothed spirit calmly dream Unutterable things and see the sky- Rest in the waters, as our God on high Deep in responsive souls is wont to rest, And then to see the sun sink in the west, As life at last sinks to its dear repose — A truer consolation no man knows. Then sweet it is to gather at the door Of consecrated fane, where evermore The holy voices of dear Christians blest Seem with the tender glory of the west To glide away, and evening hymns and psalms To blend with fragrant flowers and wholesome balms That through the opened panes are wafted in, From fields and forests where the day has been ; DECEMBER MUSINGS And sweet to hear the benedictory tone From God's pure minister, as in it shone The light of sacrifice all glowing yet From boundaries where heaven and earth are met ; And sweet to spend the quiet evening hours By household hearth, and 'mid the opening flowers Deep rooted in our deepest heart, whose bloom Perchance shall lend a comfort to the tomb ; And sweet to rest in peace with God and man, And wait His coming when our earthly span Is measured o'er, and all our work is done, And find in Jesus all our victory won. IV One picture ever wins upon my heart : Love seems to struggle with the painter's art To make it tell the story of God's grace To our benighted, weak and slumbering race. Christ knocks and listens at the sleeper's door His looks are sad and anxious, as He wore Some pain within : His alb is long and white, And all adown it falls a tender light DECEMBER MUSINGS Cast from a lanthorn in His hand, which shines Upon the door, and down among the vines, Which climb about, and up along His face, Creating a mild splendor in the place. His outer robe is royal : On His head A crown of thorns He wears as when He bled On Calvary : with wondrous graciousness He seems to come to comfort and to bless. This picture for a score of cycling years Has hung itself before my mind, and tears Sometimes give added grace, as through a mist I saw the tender majesty of Christ. 'Tis thus Thou comest, Lord, for evermore, Knocking and waiting at the lowly door, If only we might rise and let Thee in, And so be fed by Thee and healed of sin. O when Thou comest once again, good Lord ! And with the lanthorn of Thy sacred word Sheddest a beam of truth within my breast, Stay Thou till shadows flee away, and rest ! 10 DECEMBER MUSINGS How deep into the heart will strike a blow, Like a strong arrow from a well-strung bow, When hymn or song one's mother used to sing Through door or lattice suddenly will ring ! Oh ! then the time seems for a moment gone Far back into the past, as if alone One sat by her beside the cheerful hearth, And nothing knew of evil in the earth. And once again one sees the tender face With lines and features of refined grace, In which a man's mature analysis Discovers all its light of saintly bliss. And once again one feels those radiant hours When home returning to her filial flowers, With all her nature rich she would rejoice, Thrilled with the music of her children's voice. Ah ! happy childhood ! would that you could know What treasures you possess before they go So far away into those silent lands ! From which unseen they stretch their happy hands ! ii DECEMBER MUSINGS Would that you knew how beautiful they are, With that maternal beauty which they wear Along their smiling cheeks, and in those eyes That gladden with their life of sacrifice ! 'Tis only in some sacred silent hour Long after that, there comes to us with power Remembrance of their gentle patient ways, And love unspeakable in olden days. And they remember us while there they wait To welcome us within the unbarred gate, And hope and trust and pray that all is well With souls for whom their tears so often fell. And we remember them, oh ! heart, be brave, He who saves them will their' s with glory save. With grace He will thy aspirations cherish, The child of many prayers shall never perish ! VI Time ministers to forgetfulness, And happy are we that the more or less Of sorrow in our past fades out of view, As stormy clouds pass out of heaven's blue. 12 DECEMBER MUSINGS If some great joy stand out upon our life, And some great grief survive the dreadful strife, We often draw new pleasure from the joy, And slightly with the grief our thoughts employ. Within the true and real joys we had Still do we find new things to make us glad, And see how kind our Heavenly Father is To turn old fountains to perennial bliss. A father's care, a mother's constant love Will brighten for us long, although above In other realms they shine, and friendships kind Will cheer, though friends themselves to us are blind. Sermons and books and voices of the past We love and cherish more than all the last That come confusedly across our way, Mingling great thoughts with trifles of a day. W T hen traveling with our faces looking back The higher landscape seems upon our track To hasten as the lower falls away And fades upon our sight to formless gray. DECEMBER MUSINGS So on our minds the nobler, better things Loom in their grandeur, as on purple wings ; But tame and toneless shadows of the time Pass out of life, and leave the world sublime. VII A purple cloud draped in a golden mist Stooped down to Ocean's brow, and gently kist His whitened locks, and looked in his soft eyes, Wondering that such angers should arise. To-morrow will that cloud be far away, And Ocean will be up at dawn of day Spending his arrows at the morning sun, And girding up his loins to leap and run Before his chariot ; he'll catch the beams That from its axle fly, and swift as streams That roll down mountain sides he'll onward rush Singing and shouting with a rapturous blush. Eternal youth lurks in the Ocean's heart, The centuries as they pass cannot impart To his deep lusty life their long decay, Though he so oft reflect their image gray. 14 DECEMBER MUSINGS And that unbounded life that waits us there, Above the weakness, sinfulness and care Of all this world, glows with a Godlike strength, Pulsing with joy in depth and breadth and length. VIII In slumbrous moments by the open fire, When tongues of flame seem like the soul's desire For things above, and in the twilight hour Illumine faces on the walls with power, And bring the past again and waken hope, And golden doors upon the future ope ; What bliss it is, if mingling with half-thought, A low, soft, distant strain by him is caught, Who sits and muses, wondering at all things, And vaguely hoping that the one who sings Is not a thing of earth and time, but sails Down avenues of rosy light, that pales And brightens oft with subtle inward change, And brings high messages so sweet and strange And full of dim and solemn mystery, Like songs of gladness in eternity ! *5 DECEMBER MUSINGS IX Dim starlit waters overhung with trees On either bank dwell in the memories Of life within my brain. Oft would I glide Wherever I was carried by the tide, And let the dark mysterious shadows sink In my deep soul, and feel the bonds that link Us to the world unseen, in wonder lost And awe, but in a pleasing sadness most. What solemn bliss attends the thought of death, Death that is good and Christian, when the breath Is laden with the fragrance of a prayer And goes to mingle with a freer air ! How calm is death, when we have drifted past The world's high towers, and find ourselves at last Out where mild glories of the milky way Seem like the path to our immortal day! How sweet is death when all our work is done, And holy darkness separates each one From all but God ! for 'tis the light removes Those barriers the pensive spirit loves. 16 DECEMBER MUSINGS How kind is death which comes to give release To souls long waiting for the endless peace, Who here knew little but cold wintry rains And hailstones rattling on the window panes ! How fair is death that calls us in the breeze, Soft as the murmur of the summer seas, And guides our bark beyond the freshening tide How merciful is death that calms our fears, And, if we shed them, wipes away our tears ; And though the billows rise and round us break, Keeps us within the rising moon's white wake ! How beautiful is death that o'er us bends To sooth the drooping spirit when it lends Itself to dreamless languors, and the swoon "Which at the haven will be ended soon ! X As those who suffer through the winter time Will think with longing of some milder clime, Where gentle airs are not afraid to play Among white roses which adorn the way. 17 DECEMBER MUSINGS So do our wistful spirits often long To see the country of perpetual song, Where pain is not and sorrow is unknown, Where peace and spring-like summer reign alone. Beyond our vision lies the heavenly realm, The hope of seeing which will overwhelm Us often with unconquerable joy, And with some rapturous song our tongues employ. How could we live among these earthly scenes, Fair as they are, and always gracious means Of echoing things beyond, if they could last, And those fade out, as visions of the past. As shadows of the things which shall endure, Invincible and everlasting : pure As morning on the hills, how dear they are, Clear and bright images of things afar ! But oh ! the substance — heavenly things themselves- In whose vast depths the unsphered spirit delves For hidden glories of eternal mind, As new to us as colors to the blind ! DECEMBER MUSINGS A little while, a few more days below, And on our eyes shall open all the glow And gladness of those ever-shining lands, Where spirits beckon with their happy hands. The moments vanish, but the ages wait: Time kindly brings us to th' eternal gate : The Saviour comes, He does not tarry long, Our sighs shall melt forever into song ! Like shadows of the little moonlit flowers Upon the grass we live our mortal hours ; Like dewdrops caught up by the morning sun To our Creator's arms we quickly run. In dying we shall throw across the grave A shadow like a bird's upon the wave ; O'er which with quivering wing she flies To sing her bright song in the morning skies. Like billows fleeting o'er the aged sea So are our years in God's eternity ; They pass away but that shall still endure, Life passes, but the longer life is sure ! '9 DECEMBER MUSINGS XI Who has not felt the pressure of a power Unseen, when at the solemn twilight hour He stood within some ancient fane most fair, And saw the blended gloom and glory there ? Through lofty painted windows overhead The last great beams of daylight softly spread Across the silent walls, and filtered down Through arches dim like moonlight in the town. Who did not linger lost in reverie, To see the halos fade and every Saintly form grow dim, and long shafts of light Grow fainter, in the heavy grasp of night. So some do linger here till very late To watch Day's final flight, and calmly wait Where shadows melt in shadows, and the bloom Of evening passes into hueless gloom. So waited the beloved John, who sate Far into night, surviving every mate With whom he kept the glorious paschal feast, And saw his master act as Great High Priest. 20 DECEMBER MUSINGS Our times are in God's hands ; then gladly rest We still where still He makes us daily blest With love and gentleness, and as our days So shall our strength be, and our thankful lays. XII I saw long since a picture sweet and fair, A flight of angels rising through the air From out a church tower when the sunset glow Fell on the fields, and filled the vales below. I praised the artist's gift, and loved his thought ; And often has the picture deeply wrought W T ithin my heart, and made me long to reach All that so wonderful a stroke might teach. Angels are with us in our worship here, Filling our poor notes with a heavenly cheer, And taking with them echoes of our song, Ere shadows fall upon us all night long. And as the angels from the sacred tower Rise unto heavenly places at that hour, So shall we pass before the deeper night Shuts out the sunset hues so rich and bright 21 DECEMBER MUSINGS Angels of sunset ! at our evensong Sing with us ever, and enrich our tongue, And take us with you when our final hymn Dies 'midst the chancel and the arches dim. XIII Saint Francis, in his sickness languishing, Beholds an angel sent from heaven to sing His ills away, as some fine legend tells, Like Saul relieved by David in his spells. Ignatius, so another legend speaks, Preserves the music which from heaven breaks, And sets it to the anthem sung in choir, And so all Antioch feels the awful fire. Sweet voices haunt us from the realms above, Revealing to us all-surpassing love ; And if we only listen and obey Our sorrows and our fears flit fast away. So if in memory we keep the song That smites our souls with love, and makes us long For greater gifts and richer blooms of grace, We shall be helpers of our sin-worn race. 22 DECEMBER MUSINGS XIV Saint Imier at midnight in his cell Hears ringing clear the monastery bell That is to be ; and, guided by the sound, Like Abram seeks his consecrated ground. And so we in our simple hermitage Of prayer may hear alike in youth and age The call ring out from future rhythmic years, And follow till our destiny appears. For here we walk by faith and not by sight, We go through darkness to the land of light ; We go through toil our recompense to gain, And by submission perfectness attain. Slowly but surely we are hastening on, Soon will Time's precious moments all be gone ; O let us fill our hearts with heavenly light While here we may, against the coming night ! XV 'Tis very late, and many a weary mile I've journeyed on : I come to knock the while Upon the door ; and must I stand here long ? But now within I hear their evensonsr. 23 DECEMBER MUSINGS One comes to listen, and my voice is known ; The steps retire : and am I left alone ? For gladness they could not unbar the gate, But now they come : I shall not have to wait. 'Tis late, 'tis very late, but oh ! how rare My welcome is in this sweet home of prayer: God's children seek me with their kindly eyes, And I sit down among the good and wise ! 'Tis late, 'tis very late : but tarry not Ye who are laboring in your heavy lot, Follow your guide and you shall find your rest, And be among the happy happiest guest ! XVI Farewell to death ! such is the victor song Of those who walk th' immortal fields among Men only once can die, and these have died- What happiness they share at Jesus' side ! Farewell to death ! oh, what a lot is theirs Henceforth to look for life alone : the heirs Of all that life in all its richness holds, Beholders rapt of joys it aye unfolds. 24 DECEMBER MUS1SGS Farewell to death ! and these were mortals born, Who all their lives the yoke of death had worn, Subjects of pain and weariness and sin, Who now at last so great a conquest win. Farewell to death ! and shall this be our song, Who to these lowly vales of earth belong ? Our Saviour Christ the answer can supply, Sons of the resurrection no more die. Farewell to death ! O this shall be our theme When the vast world with living forms shall teem ; Like incense shall arise our earliest breath, Among its burdens this, farewell to death ! XVII With windows open toward Jerusalem, Devout, unmindful of all human blame, A man of God in ancient Babylon Through daily prayer celestial wisdom won. Unless we let the light and sweetness in, That flow like rivers to this world of sin From heavenly founts, our labored prayers are vain They leave us like a desert after rain, DECEMBER MUSINGS Fruitless as ever ; feverish to the heart, Unreached, unblessed, unbettered e'en in part : Such prayers, as smoke that breaks not into flame Consumes no chaff, no lasting blessing claim. XVIII Repentance from past sin will not efface All its ill consequence, nor e'en the trace Of its own sorrow, though true pardon bring New peace and comfort on its silver wing. Lo ! when God brought His ancient people home From Babylon, that they should no more roam, Nor idols seek, the temple's golden shields Were not restored to grace their olden fields. Not here, not here can exiles find again The sinless joys which they themselves have slain ; They only can recover every gem When they arrive at New Jerusalem. XIX A custom lingers from the Celtic times To bury where the bells or glorious chimes Ring in the people to the house of prayer, And turn to music all the happy air. 26 DECEMBER MUSINGS Anear the doors, along the sacred walls, Within the aisles, and chancel dim there falls On grave and tomb the shadow of the fane, Or light that streams from some rich window pane. And they who slowly walk among the graves And kneel within the ancient lofty naves. Will soon among those ling'ring shadows seek Their long still rest, and to the future speak As speaks the past to them, and like the old Great prophet of the Hebrew race grow cold Only to gain new life, through memories sweet To those who touch them with their passing feet. How lovely is the fellowship of saints! No poet sings nor sacred prophet paints Its tender grace, its golden atmosphere, Its melodies that fall upon the ear. Living and dead within one circle meet ; The gentle shadow and rich sunshine greet All that are gathered where the sound of grace Rings out to gladden Christ's redeemed race. 27 DECEMBER MUSINGS Distance is not : from earth to paradise Is like the step from church out where the skies Pour down incessant shafts of quick'ning light, Filled with a message from the Infinite. XX There is a picture of Teutonic tone, Wrought by a pencil dipped where softly shone The hues of homelike sanctity ! it seems A holy temple full of heavenly dreams. It is a gathered family at prayer ; The faces mildly shine as if the air Were interfused with indefinable And tender quiv'ring gleams, which gently quell The shadow cast by care and daily toil ; Or as anointed by a hallowing oil From inner shrines brought out, such restfulness And such calm eager joy do there express Themselves. The father reads from that dear book, Wherein God's face will answer to our look, And by him stands his boy of six or seven Like some sweet little cherub sent from heaven. 28 DECEMBER MUSINGS Over against them sits the youthful wife, Whose conscious thoughts are on the Word of Life, But whose unconscious wait upon the child In arms, all wrapped in slumbers undented. By her the grandsire's widow forward leans Upon her staff, and with devotion gleans What grace or mercy falls upon her ear, By kind accustomed tones made doubly dear. A girl of twelve stands well behind her chair, Yet so as of her father's face to share Her portion, as its native kindliness Is lighted with the words that soothe and bless. One other form there is by them unseen, Standing in white within a misty sheen, With hands outstretched in blessings o'er their heads, As when on mountain tops the morning spreads. 'Tis Jesus, who in lowly Nazareth Obedient lived, as Holy Scripture saith ; And by experience of our living found How rare and sacred is the household bound. 29 DECEMBER MUSINGS A glory burns upon a Christian hearth, Brighter than all the glories of the earth, When through the morning and the evening air The voice uprises of united prayer. For God who sits between the cherubim Descends in fragrant cloud when holy hymn And prayer go up from gracious simple hearts, And all His love and favor He imparts. Tis He who sets mankind in families, And loves to train them like the fruitful trees In beauteous growth, and keep them pure and sweet, That evermore at cool of day His feet May walk among them and His voice be heard Speaking so gloriously through His word, And pardon bring, and peace, and holy light To comfort them all through the darksome night. XXI Egyptian wagons made old Israel faint ; And now the chariot of the famished saint Awaits him at his tent ; he tarries not ; The fairest provinces fall to his lot DECEMBER MUSINGS In regions where the ministering Son Lives in His regal might to bless each one Whose flesh He wears, with corn and wine and oil, Such as were never seen on earthly soil. We seek for sustenance among the stores Of riches manifold, and from these shores O let us take the best fruits of our lands ! Be sure He will accept them at our hands. A little balm and honey, spice and myrrh, Almonds and nuts, such it sufficient were To show our fealty and fruitfulness ; For all our living we could take no less. He freely gives us everlasting bread, Himself He gives, who is our royal Head ; 'Tis very little we can find to bring To be the semblance of an offering. Among the scanty remnants of our waste Perchance we may pick up amid our haste A tribute to His honor whom we trust, Who raises us to kingdoms from the dust. DECEMBER MUSINGS The good of all that land is surely ours ; 'Twill be all bright and blossomy with flowers ; 'Twill shine with rivers of serene delight, And all its priestly children walk in white ; And all are crowned with radiant crowns of gold And all move to the chant of ages old Before sin entered our sad world so dim, And changed the keynote of our daily hymn. XXII Moses wist not his countenance did shine When from communion high with the Divine To Israel's tents he came ; souls deep and great Drawn upward, look beyond the gate, And lost in wonder at the glorious sight Of that most fair and uncreated light, Wherein all truth and mercy ever met, Forget the world, and e'en themselves forget. The sight of God we have by faith upholds Our weary steps, and day by day unfolds Such peace as all the world can never give, And so great joy as makes it joy to live. 5- DECEMBER MUSINGS It is our truest happiness to fade From self away, and in the restful shade Of God's eternal throne to stay awhile, Like John in vision in the sacred isle : To climb to mountain heights amid the gloom, And find within a purer light, and room To open richer treasures of His grace, And count those stars which do not shine in space ; To get beyond, and into silence come, And meet with God alone, and there be dumb ; While He makes all His goodness pass us by, Like pearly clouds upon the summer sky. O then we see fair Mercy like a bow Of promise stretching wide her arms, aglow With tearful light, her eyes shine wondrously As full of blessing as the boundless sky. And then we hear proclaimed the awful name Of God's Almightiness, and lo ! the flame Descends from His pure altar, downward drawn Like sunbeams when the sun looks forth at dawn, 53 DECEMBER MUSINGS And lights upon our hearts, and eats up there All that is inconsistent with our prayer To be like Him : and creeps within the door, And makes that cheerful that was dark before. Amid the shining stillness of the time We hear such soft, harmonious, tuneful chime Far in the heavenly deeps as wounds our ears With sweetness, and awakens holy tears ; And makes us wonder if our mortal sense Is not immortal made, and if from thence We ever need return to earth again, To walk with sorrow and sit down with pain, As if perchance like patriarchs of old, We have undying come within the fold And border of the vast eternal sphere, And sight, not faith, has made it all so clear ! 'Tis good for us, kind Master, to be here, To taste the hidden manna without fear ; From glory change to glory in Thy sight, And gaze upon Thy riches infinite. 34 DECEMBER MUSINGS 'Tis good to grow like Thee in silent prayer, And daily drink this sweet and heavenly air, And glide along still contemplation's stream, And see all heaven lie near us like a dream ! 55 DECEMBER MUSINGS Salamis The battle day of Salamis was born Euripides, and Aeschylus that morn Fought well, and at the feast great Sophocles Danced to the rhythm of the sounding seas. 36 AUTUMN Autumn I Hail ! Friend and Sister ! Clad in russet gold, With orange coronet upon thy head, On scented leaves in woodlands will we tread Together, while they break, and skies unfold A keener breath, and all the trees, or old Or young, and bush and hedge, will grow all red And yellowy-green : with fruits we shall be fed, When on the hills the vines are overrolled With purple hues, and when the chilly eve Falls on the fields, with quickened pace we too Shall walk, while o'er the western mountain blue The crimson glories spread, and downward cleave The passes with long golden swords that sweep Through paths wherein the shadows soon must creep. II Thou walkest through the land all silently, Autumnal shade! Yet in thy footsteps leav'st A hue of deeper tone : and where thou cleav'st The forests with thy frosty breath they sigh, And shed their foliage on the earth to die. I wonder if thou ever fondly griev'st When from the hills and vales thou gently reav'st 37 DECEMBER MUSINGS Their silvery beauty, soft and summery ! Dear wondrous daughter of the changing skies ! Thou teachest us how all things mortal fade, But also this — that something beautifies The passage to the grave, and that the shade Of Death puts on its sunset hues when flies The spirit home, weary but unafraid. Ill Thy ripening touch is on the harvest field, Thy smile austere yet kind is in the sky, And glory follows in thy path. On high Thou flingest forth thy banners, and thy shield Of every leaf is wrought. Now thou dost wield The sickle and the axe — thy weapons bright — And closest in the day with earlier night, So thou canst sit with us, and gently yield By fireside and the lamp — true learning's friend- Such stores of wisdom, all mature and sweet, As have been trodden out by patient feet In threshing-floors of Pallas. Thou dost send The poet joy and utmost-reaching vision, And purple foregleams of the land Elysian. 38 AUTUMN IV Beloved Autumn ! How I love thy face ! Thou art to me more beautiful than spring, Though when thou stayest birds unfold the wing And fly afar. Thou hast a charm and grace Which summer, with its silent loveliness Doth not exceed. In thy soft hazel eyes There are such beauties and such sympathies As spring's great blue and summer's black ne'er trace Upon the heart, nor sink within its deep And wonderful abyss. In thy fair hands Are bounties not less rare than those which steep Spring's fingers in a fragrance such as lands Arabian breathe from spicy fields ; and on thy brown Locks tinged with gold there lies a topaz crown. Sweet Autumn ! What deep tenderness is thine ! What kindly tones are in thy voice ! Wliat calm Tranquility adorns thy brow ! The balm Of harvests and the blossoms of the vine Make thee delightful. Now the sun doth shine With beam more golden than the gold that rings Thy vesture, flowing wide. Pure opal springs 39 DECEMBER MUSINGS Break in the depths far underneath divine And lustrous streams. Within the wood thy spell Makes points of ruddy light where erst the green And shaded deeps with tender mossy sheen Were bathed, and soft and dewy languors. Well Hast thou given us from thy abundant store, And into Nature's heart hast oped thy door. VI Ruby and topaz and bright gold with rich Abundance shine out here and everywhere ; By Nature's alchemy changed from the fair Emeralds and sapphires and silver, which In springlike summer field and hedge and ditch And every hill and vale put on. The breeze, So full of melancholy in the trees, Might make us think a charitable witch, Or fairy born to deeds of wizardry, Had climbed the boughs, and in a wondering Ecstasy how such beauty she could bring To pass let fall some tears, and gave a sigh Like that of mortals weak, remembering How soon created things must fade and die. 40 AUTUMN VII All this must fade indeed, and quickly die : Would it could last awhile in all its wealth ! And if we could catch Nature now by stealth Perchance she might be willing to sit by, And let this wondrous robe unchanged lie About her mighty limbs: but mortals lost Their grasp long ages since, and now at most Can only lengthen out the seasons' joy, or fly To other climes with it, by melodies That dip themselves in dreams upon the hills, And in the visions of the golden rills, And fondly echo soft ethereal sighs. Dear world ! to me thou art forever fair, And every stole I love that thou dost wear. 4i DECEMBER MUSINGS Sunset O sunset splendors ! flying far I see A bird that your most sacred depths explores On wings that doubtless catch a light from doors Wide opening in you. How grandly free It sails upon the crystal air ! I flee With it to you, and on your roseate shores Would sit, while over me the glory pours From fountains of the sky. Eternity Seems drawing near. What molten mountains fling These purple shadows everywhere ! My soul Like that lone bird grows faint with joy: on wing Of holier song it soars, and in the goal Of tender beatific light is lost, Bathed in the wonders of that golden coast. 42 SUBTLE MUSIC Subtle Music All, all day long some subtle music haunts My soul that strives to catch and hold it fast ; It comes in shadowy breathings: as if past O'er folded waves in great calm seas, it chants Remembrance of their song. For utterance I sigh. O could I but reduce the vast Melodious tone to shape, so it would last In other ears, and all the world entrance With pure unshadowed sweetness, I would crown Myself with bays ! but still alone, alone I listen, listen, listen, till the frown Attentive deeply ploughs my brow, and groan Responsive rises from my breast, and down In caverns of the heart still echoes moan. 43 DECEMBER MUSINGS Influence of Beauty The air is tender with the unshed rain : Sunlight is softened by the clouds that roll More swiftly now across the sky. My soul Feels the mysterious influence again Of Beauty, as her fair and fadeless wain Goes slowly by. O that I might ascend, And sit beside her in her journey, lend To her my voice, while she makes ever plain Her sweet interpretation of all things, And teaches me her ancient lore ! Ah ! Then Should I not dwell where everything has wings, Glide with the stars, and reach abysses when They echo what the host immortal sings : And visit only true and righteous men ? 44 A PEARLY CLOUD IMPARADISED IN MEADS A Pearly Cloud Imparadised in Meads A pearly cloud imparadised in meads Of boundless ether floats before my eyes, With which my lonely soul doth sympathize, Until I wonder whither it must needs Be carried far of winds ; what flowers or weeds At last it shall descend to bless in drops Innumerous as weary tears when stops Some heart-beat here ; what ancient upploughed seeds It will revive and nourish in some place Unknown to me. Bright mist ! I would that thou Might'st stay awhile a veil upon the brow Of Day, a dimple in its guileless face. But thou dost change and pass, and so must I ; We both are like the waves that gleam and die. DECEMBER MUSINGS Ye Tears and Smiles of Holy Infancy Ye tears and smiles of holy infancy ! How do ye mingle and together shine Within the tender face, and make divine The lovely child ! My heart beats full and high When in the sunlight bathed I see the shy And shrinking baby play, and glance incline Toward me ; and if I seem to see her fine Clear eyes, how quickly does she look awry With head cast down, and lips all pouting red, Fit for a saint to kiss amid the bright Calm meadows of the lofty world. The sight Is full of heaven ; and round the little head Winged blessings move invisibly, while Day Shines softlier whene'er she tunes her lay. 46 LONGINGS Longings I Oh ! for long languorous days in which to dream On solitary hillsides, in the dim Green light of forests where interfluous hymn Of birds pure-throated rises in a stream Of tender melody to heaven ; and deem All needless but a little beechen bowl For waters found beneath a grassy knoll, And fruits and berries plucked where meadows teem With nature's bounties ; naught should me perturb Of earth's vicissitude. I should give way To winged fancy all the golden day, To roam among the clouds and bright suburb Of that dear city where the glorious King Sheds blessings from His eyes on everything. II Oh ! for long twilights, when the meadows grow So slowly greener, and the solemn trees Shut up their stores of twinkles from the breeze : And mountains in the rapturous distance glow In light's last purple splendors as they flow Athwart the world from surge of golden seas, And Day's bright cohort o'er the horizon flees 47 DECEMBER MUSINGS To tents of royal hue. My heart beats so With love's delight that I could hourly sit Alone and think and dream and fondly gaze Far into visions rising from the haze That weaves its shadowy worlds when sunbeams flit. Ah ! Then if I should hear sweet Music's voice, With what deep tenderness would I rejoice ! Ill Oh ! for my books when comes the earnest rain To beautify and brighten all the scene And tone the field and forest to a green More rich and deep. Then near the window pane I fain would sit and read and look again Far off across the dimmed and mist-wreathed sky, For then the sense of freshness seems to lie Among the visions of the past: a strain Of Nature's melody with Tasso's song Is blent, and then how soft o'er deserts spread The voices of the steel-clad knights that long Have toiled to reach Jerusalem ! the dead Revive and feel the rushing of the wind, And from their breasts ruddier streams unbind. 43 LONGINGS IV Oh! for my friends when cold the night outside When on the sacred hearth the fire burns bright And curtains all are drawn. Far into night We well may sit and let the tempests ride Upon the hills. Here in these gleams we hide Our cares, and let them rush with quivering tongues Up into darkness, while we sing our songs And laugh with generous mirth, and oft confide One to another our last verse or hope New-fledged, and let the brighter future ope Its visions not all futile. So we share Earth's kindliness, and if all friends be wise, Some heavenly joy, some visions still more fair, Some holier, deeper thoughts and sympathies. Oh ! for some friends more dear than all the rest, Sometimes on Sunday evenings it may be, When tired with much emotion, and set free From labors that exhaust though always blest, With whom o'er gentle hills that front the West We may walk slowly, talk or softly sing, Or silence keep like birds upon the wing ; 49 DECEMBER MUSINGS And seat ourselves upon some flowery crest That overlooks a stream ; perchance the sea, Spreading its rosy width of mystery Before our raptured gaze : and then beneath The starry beams to saunter home and find Dear faces waiting, lit with love and faith, Of those who study how they may be kind. VI Oh! for an old-age far among the hills, Where in the distance rise the purple peaks Glistening with jeweled light when Morning breaks Above, or Evening with her glory fills The earth and sky. I want to see the rills Run down the verdant slopes like silver streaks Quickened to stronger currents, where the freaks Of ancient storms left rocks strewn like the ills That often impulse give to character In human life. I want to read again Mid solitary musings, those old, rare And precious books, which for long years have lain Untouched, and then fade out all unaware, Softly as some calm evening, without pain. 50 LONGINGS VII Oh ! for a death most Christian and most free From fears and faithless thoughts. If I could choose In perfect resignation how to loose My shallop from these shores, then I would be Most willing that the great eternity- Should almost unperceived bear me away, And angels from the realms of fadeless day Unfurl my sails and steer me o'er the sea ; While I should think of nothing else but this — That I shall be all-holy in the bliss Of God's own company : and learn to tune My lyre to their sweet voices while I pass. Then I may duly hymn His praise so soon As ever I shall reach the sea of cdass. 5i DECEMBER MUSINGS Monastic Life I What if the fact oft fall below the aim, Doth that debase the aim ? No one can take From Monachism its righteous praise, and make Its glory fade by pointing to what blame May blur the beauty of its outward frame. All things divine put on imperfectness When they put on a human robe, confess A human mission, use the weak and lame For ministers. This wondrous institute Not more than others failed to work always A perfect work, yet to its work more praise Than blame we must accord. An absolute Devotion reigned within a thousand cells, And answered gladly to the service bells. II As architecture had its lowly birth In caves, so from the lone, dim hermitage The monastery sprang. Where simooms rage And sands Arabian erase from earth The sandal's print, and in mysterious mirth The Lybian winds oft chant melodious song, The silent solitary soul, by wrong 5- MONASTIC LIFE Oppressed, or weak through spiritual dearth, Prepared its bower among the friendly birds And kindly beasts : the solemn multitude Thus driven from the world turned deserts rude To cities: hermits, joined like gentle herds, In common lived, and holy minsters rose By lonely streams, and halls of sweet repose. Ill Ten times ten thousand solitary men When Athanasius lived in Egypt, toiled For earthly and for heavenly bread, and foiled Satanic guile. Europe the fever then Received as that high saint and citizen Of light came into Italy. From place To place the marvel spread. The very face Of Nature smiled as hill and plain and fen Felt friendly hands caress their kindred soil. The happy rivers glassed the lofty towers That from their banks rose steep, and myriad flowers Bloomed in the gardens blessed by daily toil : While gentle beeves fed on the grassy lea, And long green hillsides sloping to the sea. 53 DECEMBER MUSINGS IV In wondrous vigor for a thousand years Endured the eremitic institute In East and West, nor are the echoes mute Which from the happy hills and vales one hears Of psalmody all sung with lowly tears By men escaped from every worldly care. It is a memory bright — a vision fair, Which in the Christian centuries appears From Benedict to Bernard, and from him To saints no less revered. I love to trace The course of Learning's stream in gentle pace Among the towers and through the arches dim Of its great homes ; and I do venerate Its ancient ruins, sad and desolate ! V A thousand years the Benedictine rule Made Europe vocal with perpetual praise, And changed its trackless forests into ways Of cheerful beauty. Gates all merciful Stood open to the poor, the happy school Of song and science welcomed callow youth, And daily taught the knowledge of the truth. 54 MONASTIC LIFE Against the world-power, blind and masterful, Stood out this witness of the Living God And His pure law, and made barbarian kings Bow down to spiritual might. The things Of heaven put on this guise, and here the road To peace was found. Religion's holy light Upon this beacon cheered the world's dark night. VI A thousand years passed tenderly ; great spires Arose, and minsters glorious with art, And glorified with lavish love. The heart Is pleased as with the sound of sweetest lyres When strikes this vision home. The white robed choirs, The altars gleaming with uncounted gems, And roofs half hid in gloom, the diadems Of light in pictured panes like lambent fires That edge the Seraph's purple wings, the dim Far stretches of the woven light and shade, The banners by the viewless breezes swayed Along illuminated walls, the hymn That swells through aisles and dies with sobs divine, Make up a picture rich as monk's old wine. 55 DECEMBER MUSINGS VII A thousand years the Western world took on The Christian vow from missioners that moved Their light from race to race, and bravely roved Through regions inaccessible. The throne Reared on Rome's ruins dared to own The yoke of Christ. Columba from his isle Breathed peace across the wave, and in the smile Of Boniface the Frisians saw the blown Flower of heavenly sanctitude. O Anschar ! Denmark owes her joy to thee : and thou, Gall ! Art honored still in Switzerland, where fall For ever over hill and dale afar The bells of thy abode still consecrate, Where on their offices the brethren wait. VIII A thousand years the greatest names were writ Upon its registers. Great kings and queens And nobles, worn with war and care, the scenes Of restful beauty sought, where night was lit As well as day by prayer's pure flame. Men quit The noisy world to study God and self, And triumphed o'er the love of fame and pelf; 5« MONASTIC LIFE In vast dim solitudes embalmed their wit In myriad tomes, now lost from time's frail Memory. Basil, Leo, Gregory, Augustine — son of immortality — Great Chrysostom, and others time would fail To tell, that bless the ages, in the halls Monastic kept angelic festivals. IX A thousand years the rising kingdoms basked In Christian light, shed from its countless towers, And law and liberty put forth their powers Under its tutelage. Calm souls were tasked With peaceful embassies, who fearless asked For pity on their foes from ruthless knights, And barons proud as Lucifer. The heights Of philosophic thought were scaled : and masked In Christian phrase were Aristotle's lore And Plato's dreams : and gentle History's self Piled up new treasures on the shielded shelf, And even Poesy that laid the floor And reared the pinnacle, dared to indite Some faltering lines when stars begemmed the nigh! 57 DECEMBER MUSINGS Faith and devotion always lovely are Wherever found, and in whatever dress They do their sacred work of righteousness. These shone upon the world when angry war Harried the lands — a spiritual star Set in the Church's firmament, and raised Men's wearied hearts above the lurid, crazed And wasted scenes of human life. Afar In heaven they lifted up the banner bright Of Him who fought and won, and led men on To seek their safety near the Saviour's throne ; Where evermore came up, both day and night, A voice of longing for a nobler life, Untroubled by the sounds of sordid strife ! XI As one walks through the Evening's thick'ning gloom The lamps that from the distant windows shine Seem dots of ineffectual light, divine Indeed in loveliness, but without bloom Of radiance ; but near by they assume Another view. Far out upon the night They shed their grateful beam and glimmer quite 5S MONASTIC LIFE Adovvn the path to welcome pilgrims home. Through long dim ages as through mountain glens We see the Monastery's torches gleam, And peradventure think they were a dream ; But drawing near we find a light that kens The wilderness, and guides the wanderer To rest and consolation kind and dear ! 59 DECEMBER MUSINGS Egypt I Land of graves and death, thyself art buried Half in the sad and dim Lethean stream, Which like thine own dark river as a dream Rolls over thee ! what wondrous treasures hid In undiscovered tombs we wait, amid These latest years of this, Time's latest age ! What strange additions to the heritage Of this world's past are knocking at the lid That long has kept them coffined in thy soil, Now ploughed by many learned hopes ! Egypt ! Thou art the world-cathedral's mighty crypt All rich as treasure-cities built by toil Of Hebrew slaves. O land of pyramids ! Thy mournful caves my ling' ring fancy thrids. II O land of fears and shadows ! could the shine Of sun bring mystic glooms upon thy soul, A shine that deepens as a burning coal Under the bellows, when upon the vine And palm it throws itself? Thou art a mine Of carven gold, and royal forms lie low Beneath thy languid meads. My heart will grow 60 EGYTT Sad ever when to thee my thoughts incline. Ne'er can I love thee, nor can wish to see Thy ruined Thebes and Memphis : yet to me A fascination dwells in thy great past, As if some witchcraft sceptered it o'er thee E'en now, and put a spell upon thy vast Grim relics, awful like eternity. DECEMBER MUSINGS The Nile mother of fertility ! Great Nile ! That sweepest onward like a magic dream, No tributary ever mingled with thy stream Of solitary glory. Many a mile Thy course is shadowed by majestic pile Of temples, and the solemn groves of stone, Where now odd birds make melancholy moan Like spirits of thine awful past. The while 1 think of thee I seem to see a mist Breathe from thy depths, peopled with phantoms dire, And towered cities sunk long since in mire, And kings and priests, a strange and mournful list. O ancient river ! flowing to the sea, What voices haunt my wildered memory ! 62 GREECE Greece Land of the sun-born statues ! Land of song ! Land of the hero, where the sacred sea Forever lifts its chant of liberty Upon thine ancient shores ! Our spirits long To catch the grace and beauty that belong To thy great teachers ; grace and beauty born In hearts as fresh and native as the morn That breaks upon thy hills. Thy subtle tongue Lives yet, and richly flows from myriad lips Like honey from Hymettus, and, O Greece ! We sail forever for the golden fleece, And with Achilles leave the tents and ships To raze great-gated Ilium, and stand Victorious upon the red-wet strand. 63 DECEMBER MUSINGS Rome I Almost four times have seven ages past Over thy head, great Rome ! and still thy heart Beats strong, and in thy awful mien thou art Thyself, e'en now, though shorn of all. How vast The shadow from thy form majestic cast Upon the vale of time ! Thy fatal dart Long kept the world submissive while thy part Of rulership was finely borne. Thou hast Still on thee shadows of thy purple vest ; As when the captive nations swelled thy train And sadly sang to thee their suppliant strain, When marvelled at thee all the East and West. For glory thou didst fill the world with gloom, And so I hail thy fall, Imperial Rome ! II The Pagan world knelt at thy jewelled feet, Whose gods within thy fanes did consecrate Her tributary gold : whose sons did wait Within thy palaces and oft defeat Thy potent will, and seize thy throne with fleet And iron arm. Thy mighty emperors Sprang chiefly from the barbarian shores 64 ROME And from the tent strode to thy lofty seat Of majesty : yet thou didst Latinize Them all, them and the world, and magnify Thyself alone. Thy magic wand did lie On continent and sea, and solemnize With name of Roman tribes without a name, And in remotest regions write thy fame. Ill It is a pure and lovely company Of men and women, for the most part slaves, Greek in their language, who among the graves And excavated places lift on high Their patient hearts, while raging death draws nigh And martyr-crowns. The holy bishop laves Unnoted thousands in the tide that saves Beyond the fiery trial ; tidings fly In secret of the One whose sacrifice Sufficeth for the world's uncounted sins, And heaven a throng of holy converts wins ; Who in their dying scatter seeds that rise In larger harvests still. And lo ! great Rome Of Christ's religion is the cherished home. 65 DECEMBER MUSINGS IV Pride of the saint, and light of many lands Beyond the utmost bounds of all the West ! For ages thou didst keep the truth confest Of Peter and of Paul, but as thy hands Grew strong and riches flowed to thee like sands Upon the shore, thou couldst no longer rest In thy simplicity, but with unblest Desire of earthly splendor made demands Upon it for thy rites, and made the faith Of Christ a ceremony burdensome, Which like a veil obscured the dome Of spiritual attainment ; the path To heaven was something to be sought With sordid gold, not with Christ's merit bought. V Drunk with iniquity and blind with pride Of place and power, thou wouldst not hear the cry Of nations for true Christian liberty : Thou wouldst not see the deep and strenuous tide Of reformation loosening from thy side Thy offspring of a thousand years ; thine eye, All bleared with sin, saw not the unity 66 ROME Of ages falling : Thou wert satisfied To curse thy children and to drink thy fill Of heathen sweets. O Papacy ! the foe Of justice. What immitigable woe Shall yet o'ertake thee in the calm and still Security of noon ! What thunder blast Shall shiver thee to atoms at the last ! 67 DECEMBER MUSINGS Italy O Italy ! Fair Italy ! The earth Is full of echoes from thy dreamy past, And everywhere the shadows dimly vast Fall from thy form : thou hadst thy wondrous birth Like Venus from some rosy spray. Thy hearth Resounds with song, and on thy walls do last The mind's heroic images. Thou hast A voice in which a thousand strains of worth Blend in triumphant harmony, which leads Us captive all, while countless ghosts sublime March past us from the depths of ancient time, And memory rings with clang of valiant deeds. Mother of beauty and immortal gifts ! Would thou hadst Truth which blesses and uplifts. 68 THE MIDDLE AGES The Middle Ages I The scene is filled with hierarchs and kings, With castles and cathedrals dim and vast, And all the knightly tourneys of the past, And splendors chivalrous which fancy flings Bright over all. Who would not covet wings With which to track his way through ages gone ? So he might join some bright procession Of pilgrims to the holy wells and springs, Where haloed saints in mossy hermitage Fasted the lingering years ; or to the hills Of Palestine, where Salem's vision fills The heart with dreadful awe. Mysterious age ! Thee I would visit though I would not stay, And with thy shadowy dreams beguile a day. II Great age! though filled with many childish things Which we have put away. Thy rightful place In history is felt by those who trace In sequence just the world's great course, which brings Its life through thee. Thy deathless shadow clings To all our institutes : in law thy face Is seen, and in the blood of all our race 69 DECEMBER MUSINGS Thy spirit lives. To us thy Dante sings. Thy gentle monks lived not for self alone, But left their hearts for us in carved stone, And scrolls illuminate with lines untold And learned dialectic. Thy strong towers Speak to our noblest tastes, and from the cold Bleak past thou orTerest us some fragrant flowers. Ill I count him blind, or one who reads in vain The world's immortal history, whose soul Exults not when he hears called out the roll Of mediaeval names, and cannot gain New inspiration for his will and brain When well he studies the illumined scroll Of all their matchless deeds. Art had its school With grave philosophy, and without pain Wrought nothing great in song and sacred shrine It told us how religion should indwell All life and thought, and, with its potent spell, Involve the nations in a light divine. The page of beauty by great poets penned To latest ages then high fame shall send. 70 THE MIDDLE AGES IV They had their superstitions and their crimes, Their feudal bondages and rash crusades, Their petty tyrants and their ruthless raids ; They had, but so they had their silver chimes, Their gentle homes of prayer and holy times Of festival and song. In hills and glades, By winding rivers and 'neath forest shades, In realms remote and in Cisalpine climes Was heard the sound of never-ceasing chant, And praise perpetual. They have their part In Time's great chronicle, and on the chart Of human progress left no mean and scant Inditing. Like stained windows they convey To us the light that fell upon their day. In your wide furrows were the fruitful seeds Of whole milleniums of thought and work, And in your famous monuments there lurk True lessons for our own deep future needs. The world before you throbbing with its deeds Of wondrous glory did not die unheired, And our great modern centuries are reared 7i DECEMBER MUSINGS Upon your own stability. Your weeds We dry and label and keep safe : your flowers We plant anew and with them decorate Our page ; and standing at the open gate Of coming times we see your minster towers Still casting peaceful shadows on the earth, And bearing witness to your faith and worth. 72 CATHEDRALS Cathedrals Dear images of faith profound : Sweet songs In stone ; pictures of grace victorious Over man's shapeless aims ! could he rear thus His ladders into heaven, while feudal wrongs Attended superstitious fears, and prongs Oppressive goaded human life ? when light Of earthly hope grows dim then shines heaven's bright And beauteous flame ; the soul repines and longs For unseen succors, upward sends its prayer And lives for God. Then, all attired in grace And holiness and trust, it fills the air With sacred hymns, anoints its glowing face, And consecrates to Christ its gifts so fair, And makes its home within the holy place. 73 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Jordan O sad soft river rushing like a tide Of leaping glories to no living sea ! With awe I ponder thy long history. Forever with thy name there must abide A holy spell. Thy yellow waves that wide Asunder rolled that Israel might pass To conquest and a home, seem like a glass Of that last boundary o'er which we glide To our immortal joy : and since that Christ Within thy blissful waters set His feet Thou art to us all consecrate and sweet, And murmurest ever of the meek Baptist. Roll on, roll on, O waves, beneath the sun, And brighten ever as you glance and run ! 74 ELIJAH Elijah Tremendous day in Israel's history When with Elijah heathen prophets stood On Carmel's slope, and on the piled wood Laid sacrificial beasts, perchance to see If Baal were divine, or at his plea The God of Israel's prophet might send flood Of fire to burn the calves, and show who should Be worshipped in the land ! All day they dree The tedious hours : with knives the heathens gash Themselves : Elijah mocks their god ; when, lo ! From heaven falls vengeful fire, and pagans rash Are overwhelmed with wrath and deathly woe. Our sacrifice we lay with this desire, Let Him be God that answereth bv fire. 75 DECEMBER MUSINGS David Arise, anoint him, this is he ! Lo ! here The monarch comes, all crowned with health alone, That had some shaded hillock for a throne Beneath a canopy of palms. What cheer Lights up his ruddy looks ! How bright and clear Those eyes that watched the stars when day was done Mid silent hills ! What soft yet manful tone Is in that voice that sang of Israel's fear, Who led him out of Egypt when a child ! Son of the people is he, young and strong, Whose foes he shall subdue though thousands filed Up Jordan's vales. Valiant shall be his song Upon the harp, yet oft so sweet and mild That men shall for the heavenly kingdom long ! 76 EZEK1EL Ezekiel The captives by the river sat all sad And downcast, hanging up the tuneless harp As through their spirits went the sudden, sharp Remembrance of fair Sion's songs, when glad Resounding trumpets filled the fane. Then had Ezekiel, priest and seer, seen heaven ope Her azure gates, and show the realms of hope, And visions of God's beauty, which should add New sweetness to His word. A river clear Runs through our earthly soil, in which we trace The regal glory for our light and cheer : We see in symbol through the stainless space And heaven's unutterable depths : So near The banished gazer shines the Father's face. 77 DECEMBER MUSINGS Saint Paul O great Apostle ! The Ambassador Of heaven and Minister of Jesus Christ To countless souls ! Doth not in this consist Thy glory eminent, that thou the door Of Faith didst ope to Gentiles, such as wore No shadow of the ancient truth, but dwelt Outside in deepest gloom, and ne'er had felt The fascination of the Hebrew lore ? What great humility was thine to serve The meanest of mankind, and put away Thy patriot pride, thy past forget, nor swerve From boundless labors when thy Strength and Stay Invisible remained ! I pray for nerve Like thine to stand out in the evil day. 78 SAINT COLUMBA Saint Columba The halo round thy head is formed of mist Out of the ancient sea, thou glorious saint Of weird Iona ! on it is no taint Of city-glare, but it is brightly kist Of purest sunbeams. Great Evangelist Of Celtic lands ! well do I hear the plaint Of ocean with thy holy chant keep faint Harmonious antiphon. Did ye not wist, O waves, what duteous voice gave utterance To psalms and hymns and spiritual songs Amid your solitary bounds ? It haunts You yet, and on your onward path prolongs Its deep reverberations, like the chants With which the angels soothe our human wrongs. 79 DECEMBER MUSINGS Baptism of Ethelbert of Kent Thou happy monarch ! snatched from pagan gods And with pure waters cleansed from every sin ; What unknown sun has dawned and smiled within All Saxon-land! What joy in the abodes Of blessed heaven as Austin shods The King for Christ's bright path, this glorious day ! The King is Christ's, and all that own his sway Shall hear and turn, and all the merry roads Be bright with pilgrims to this fountain sweet, Upsprung in Kentish soil. God's kingdom here Comes down, and angels walk with unseen feet Ways haunted once by horrid sprites of fear And loathly ill ; and in the pearly street The Kingf and thousands walk with vision clear. VENERABLE BEDE Venerable Bede Long centuries have held in their embrace, O venerable Bede ! thy gentle soul : But never have they blotted out the scroll Of thy achievements. Of our Saxon race Thou wert the best, and sittest in the place Of highest honor midst its dead. How fair Thy life, which was a golden psalm, a prayer, Immortal melody of love ! We trace Thy holy years from childhood up, that trod At seven the sacred cloister, and grew on To priesthood and to wisdom, with thy God Conversing ever like the holy John, Whose gospel thou translatedst ; then with rod Of God in hand went forth, thy labor done. Si DECEMBER MUSINGS Thomas Cranmer In learning great, greater in gentleness, Dear Master of our tongue's rich subtleties ! Thy lot was cast in troublous times, when wise It was to hide away from fame, confess No purpose, and awake no fears. I bless Thy memory, meek saint ! whoever plies Against it bitter words. Who willing dies For truth a martyr is. In storm and stress I know thy weakness, but I know thy might. What endless praise shall cleave to thy last hour, When with thine erring hand that seemed to blight Thy past thou didst embrace the fiery shower ! Mercy for all was thy grand litany ; And mercy all might nobly show to thee. 82 RICHARD HOOKER Richard Hooker Wisest among the sages ! Of the saints Tenderest and fairest ! Like some great star That hides its brightest beams in heaven afar, And unawares our darkness sweetly paints With tranquil light, he kindly shines, nor faints Ever on earth. Dear, simple, holy one ! England were great if thou wert all alone Her theologian. Thy deep complaints God only heard. In utter lowliness Among the lowly thou didst hide away, To write for future ages, and to bless Vast multitudes that own and love thy sway ; Spirits that never saw thy modest face Shall hail and kiss thee in eternal day ! 83 DECEMBER MUSINGS Launcelot Andrewes Saintly among the saints, how fair thy fame Among the brethren of the way of life ! Serene amidst the noisy paths of strife Thou walkedst freely without breath of blame. With brow anointed by celestial flame, Thou failedst not to shine when sin was rife On every hand : like a glittering knife Thy learning smote that ancient Papal shame That still lives on. But thou didst not ascend Alas ! the primate-throne, a higher thine In brighter worlds, where never any friend Can pass away, nor foe invade, where shine Saints like thyself, who on their God attend Unrestingly, and near Him, wax divine. 84 JOSEPH BUTLER Joseph Butler Great Master ! Spirit calm and clear ! To thee We owe an everlasting recompense, Who into our stern darkness, drear and dense, Brought from the awful depth, eternity, A little shaft of light, and mad'st us see Our limits and our human impotence. Beyond the veil thou hast departed hence, Where 'neath the shade of immortality Thou walkest with some friend, and in the light Canst spell the mysteries of Paradise. How dost thou feel the vision infinite Thrill all thy soul ! How pure within thine eyes Must glow prophetic thought when in the height Thou see'st the workings of the Only Wise ! 85 DECEMBER MUSINGS Jonathan Edwards Through farthest regions of the light he passed E'en while he toiled among New England hills. A spirit open to the sun, which fills With radiant prophecy, in which is glassed Heaven's holiest images, was his. So fast Upon the rock his feet were set that storms Of earth he felt not : men he counted worms Amidst the mire, and looked for feet that haste On awful judgment hitherbound. To him Sin and its doom alike were terrible And hell more vast than heaven, but what a hymn Of beauty was his life ! The heart will dwell Delighted on his faith and zeal sublime Which on the forests laid their gentle spell. 86 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND The Church of England What dignity and what simplicity Are thine, dear mother Church ! Thy sons of old Lived in an atmosphere above earth's cold And misty levels, and thy liturgy, So strong and pure and of unwisdom free, Adorns thee like a crown of finest gold. Thy voice is rich and deep, not harsh nor bold, But clear, like reverend bells across the lea, Toned to the note of benediction And love divine. Thy heart within is sound, Thy white-robed squadrons are fast hast'ning on To bear good tidings to earth's utmost bound, Already thou dost dwell in every zone ; England through thee is consecrated ground. 8/ DECEMBER MUSINGS Homer Hero ample-browed, sublime Enchanter Of the early world ! O Thou good and wise ! Thy signature of greatness broadly lies On all thy works. For Troy I would not err With those who make thee but a ghost, a mere Dim mist of Phantasy. I see thee rise Like morning when around him all the skies Put on his livery, for bards most dear In every clime take on thy light, and bask Each in his little glade lit up by thee. Pellucid fountain ! one could never ask An art more glorious than this — so free To fall in showers refreshing, as if task 'Twere not to echo far the sounding sea. 88 DANTE Dante Of all that walked in hell thou, thou alone Didst cast a shadow on the lurid cloud, Immortal Bard ! Alone among the crowd That daily vexed thee here thou seem'st to own Unfading influence. That heart is stone That melts not when thy voice all clear and loud Amidst th' abyss of flame is smit with proud Emotion masterful, or tender tone Takes on among the ardent happy throng That rests within the golden gleaming mist, And lifts aloft its pure, ecstatic song. Thine exile ended, thou art keeping tryst With radiant guide, and ancient poet strong, And dwelling in whatever light they list. 89 DECEMBER MUSINGS Geoffrey Chaucer Apollo-like, and young, thou art a Greek Almost, yet Saxon in thy love of tint, And Norman in thy tastes. Life without stint Is in the scenes set forth by thee : no weak Nor wooden pilgrims pass us by to seek For sin's indulgence in great Canterbure. Nature o'ercomes thy art, which cannot cure Nor change the homely herd. We hear them speak To us through all the Mediaeval years And centuries since, and 'tis no solemn tongue, Such as was spoken by the Hebrew seers, But light and joyous, springlike, as a song Of birds among the blossoms : with pure tears It does not tremble, nor with dread of wrong. 90 JOHN MILTON John Milton Ah ! human angel ! wanderer through realms Which only winged feet will dare to tread, Whose spirit with the gracious dawn is wed, The torrent of thy song quite overwhelms Earth-hindered man. Thou saw'st the plumed helms Of God's immortal sons, when onward led Against His foes, and gazed, while chaos fled : So clear had been thine eye as human films Had by the great Archangel been removed. With love thou buildedst in the lofty rhyme, And all the treasures of our language proved ; Brought shadows of eternity o'er time, And made thy solemn measures to be loved By all whose steadfast spirit is sublime ! 9i DECEMBER MUSINGS George Herbert Dear soul, that early trod the unseen way, Yet gave us songs and precepts for our age ! Blest is our lot and great our heritage, Who know and love thy voice ! Thy Sunday lay Comes home to weary hearts that every day With sin and want unfailing warfare wage ; Our gloom is broken by thy shining page, Where precious thoughts, like gems, with sunbeams play. The temple by thy gifts is glorified, The priest is brighter since thou wert so bright ; Religion points to thee with joy and pride, As one shot through and through with heavenly light, Who all her purest teachings justified, And made her sweet and precious in men's sight. 92 THOMAS KEN Thomas Ken heart of strength and wondrous tenderness, Jewelled and dazzling with all gifts of light, Pure as the dawn upon an Alpine height, Receive the homage of the sons of grace ! What mystic love upon thy brow may trace Of bliss and sweetness, in the regions bright Where of the throne itself thou catchest sight, 1 cannot tell ; but blessed is the place Where thou dost walk ! There angels congregate To sing with thee dear hymns to God on high : There seraphs clothed with ardent flame still wait Upon thy gracious soul, and turn love's sigh To golden mist, that may adorn the gate When morn and eve the great King passes by. 93 DECEMBER MUSINGS Samuel Taylor Coleridge What singer of them all, great melodist ! Had sweetness quite like thine ! Deep interfused With all thy thought, as if thou oft hadst mused In Paradise, or dwelt in dreamy mist Of mountains twilight-purpled, or hadst kissed The tears from Spenser's face, is wondrous balm Which overflows thy thought, and through the calm Rich texture of thy cadence lives. Like list Of hero-names in Homer or the names Of lands and cities in my Milton flow Thy numbers marvelous. Among the fames Most glorious is thine. While tempests blow Upon the sea, and roar the rhythmic flames, And rivers run to song, that fame shall glow. 94 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH William Wordsworth Let me invoke thy presence, Heart of gold ! For sure thou ling'rest where the hills stretch blue And far. Sure in these waters must the true Reflection of thy face be seen : these old And solemn forests must thy spirit hold, At least when rare deep sunset brings the dew, And to its fading all the stars ensue ! What mystic glory did thy birth enfold ! What genius led thee out each morning fair To turn the waters into thoughts, and touch The rocks with spiritual grace, and care For truth that sings within the cowslip ! Much We owe to thee, for thou hast everywhere Seen visions of calm joy, and given us such. 95 DECEMBER MUSINGS Alfred Tennyson And is it true that radiant richness dwells In Saxon speech, and perfect thoughts can match With perfect forms ? What gleamings didst thou catch From passing unseen wings, whose great verse tells Of beauty paramount, and gently swells With pulses of the heart ? O ! thou didst watch Where others only passed, and didst unlatch The unaccustomed doors, and of deep wells In woods untrodden took'st thy fill. Awake Thou wert to inner charms of song, and felt A motion from the world's deep soul, that brake O'er thee in thrills mysterious. Hearts melt With thine ; and at thy sculptured fountain slake Their thirst, whose longings thou hast known and spelt. 9 6 JOHN KEBLE John Keble Beauteous spirit ! Sweet and primitive, Bard of the soul ! That walked in Godly fear Through all the cycle of the Christian year, And taught us how the child of light should live Among these earthly shadows fugitive : Well didst Thou interweave the Autumn sere With childhood's innocence and hearty cheer. Thou gavest all thy gentle heart could give To gentle hearts. Thou didst with grace unfold In flowers and sunbeams and in hills and vales Pictures of heavenly beauty. Lights untold Lie open in thy gracious hymn when pales Our daily sun, and in the realms of gold Such words shall breath when earthly being fails. 97 DECEMBER MUSINGS Arthur Cleveland Coxe Father in God ! most reverend and bright ! True Singer in this vineyard of the West ! That shed a tender gleam upon the breast Of earth, and bathed the village spire in light Of filial love ; that walked so long in white Among us here ; now on the sunlit crest Of some high hill thou sittest with the blest, And singest lyric notes with all thy might Which echo to the throne. We cannot weep For thee, for thou hast gained thy deep repose, And near the altar-shade wilt vigil keep With them that like thee wait till Sion's woes Are past, and all the saints that fell on sleep Awake, and sing, and blossom as the rose. 9 8 A MANY PINNACLED A Many Pinnacled A many pinnacled upon the fame Of ancestry hold fairly well their place ; But oh ! how many without wit or grace Shame both the past and present ! They who came To these our Western shores, men v/ithout blame, Men unimpeached and unimpeachable, With iron wills and with no souls to sell For earthly price, should have for sons the same Great-moulded sort of men as they themselves. Americans ! Fear the degenerate days When to be Pagan is to win all praise From multitudes that put away on shelves Their bibles, and on Sundays shun the church, And leave our pure Religion in the lurch. 99 DECEMBER MUSINGS God's Tabernacle Lord my God ! this earth Thy palace is : In gladness and in love Thou didst create Its lofty frame and clothe it with so great And various beauty. In the abyss Of light, amidst innumerous worlds this One receives Thy special care. Thou dost wait That Thou may'st gracious be to man whose state So wretched is through sin ; yea ! from Thy bliss Descendest here, and dwellest with Thine own, And diest for them, suffering all pain. O may Thy mercies not be all in vain ! May millions penitent before Thy throne Pour out their hearts ! and do Thou walk with us, And truth unfold in visions glorious. CHRIST IN US Christ in Us Christ in us the hope of glory is, so I believe, and seek for Him within me. He that came to earth doth come to free Each soul that will receive Him from the slow, Sad death of sin. Tis He who changes woe And weakness into joy and strength, and wakes Us from our sloth to hear the song that makes The heavens rejoice, proclaiming love. The glow Of trusting faith in God is interfused With all my thoughts ; submission is the crown He wreathes my brow withal, on which flows down The fragrant oil of kingly might. Accused Of evil I can claim His pardoning grace ; Dejected, I can look to His bright face. IOI DECEMBER MUSINGS Is There no Costly Ointment? Is there no costly ointment I can find To shed upon my dear Redeemer's feet While here He sits so gentle and so sweet, And folds us in His smile and eyes most kind ? What can He care for gold or gems consigned With state upon His altar, when men fleet So swiftly from it to the joys unmeet Of witless luxury ? What swelling wind Of melody can reach His heart, what hymn, In which the joy and wondrous mystery Of human love for God breathes not its sigh Brought from a spirit welling to the brim ? O Jesus ! let me love Thee with my soul, Then shall I find some offering to unroll. 1 02 WHAT MYRIAD RWERS What Myriad Rivers What myriad rivers, thou insatiate sea, Dost thou imbibe through ages dim and hoar ! Whose silvery music mingles evermore With thy all-conquering song. Eternally They softly gleam and glide and run to thee, Yet never do they fail. Like wise men's lore They thrive by giving, and so freely pour Their generous waves through many a grassy lea, And bank elm-shadowed into thy vast breast ; And ne'er abate their melody by night Or day, nor sparkle with a shade less bright, But in their flowing deem that they are blest. My child, this needful lesson duly learn — They keep their life who serve another's turn. 103 DECEMBER MUSINGS Ember Day All day I labor in His vineyard here, And often pray and think about what next Should be performed of duty, or what text Of Holy Writ will best unfold some clear And edifying thought for those whom fear Doth hinder, or who often are perplext With doubt and conflict. And, oh ! Thou that deck'st These hills with ripening fruits, I often hear The voice which said : " The laborers are few." And then I hear the perilous sounds without Of them that for Thy vine's destruction shout ; And feel how weak I am to face this crew. Do Thou, to make me zealous in the strife, Mix heavenly spices with the wine of life. 104 BY ALL WATERS SOW How Blest Are They that By all Waters Sow How blest are they that by all waters sow Immortal seed ! Ours is a task sublime, Who lead men up beyond the vale of time To where the mountains of attainment glow With spiritual lustre. Here below We pass for spies, who have been through that clime And learned a little of its saintly rhyme To charm men's hearts, and from a fragment show How wonderful our Father's country is. Inopportune is never any hour Wherein to gladden with His promises Sin-wearied souls, and show the gracious power Of their most dear Redeemer. O what bliss When opens in them Faith's unfading flower ! [o< DECEMBER MUSINGS The Gifts of God God's gifts are perfect, in their motive pure, Pure as the sunbeams in the heart of flowers, And constant in their flow as are the hours That still glide on. Like Him they shall endure, And all our sorrows and our trials cure, Increasing in their value till the towers Of venture highest, holiest, are ours Far in the land of light. Us they allure Into the wilderness to walk with God : And on through strife and labor to the stream That borders on the gardens where the road Leads to the golden city. Ye misdeem That falter on beneath your heavy load. And will not slake your darkness with His beam. 1 06 THE ALCHEMIST The Alchemist A strange pathetic picture like a dream Of dissapointed hope that hopes again, Lives in the ages past all clear and plain, The Alchemist into the fiery stream That carries off his wealth throws all the cream Of brain and energy, looking in his pain For gold from metals base : sometimes in vain Imagining he sees the precious gleam. Yet is the picture not all sad : he finds Not what he. seeks, but by an accident Nature gives up some secret, as from blent Rich fluids issue wonderful unwinds. In life's ambitions fail we often may, But, God be praised ! good do we by the way. 107 DECEMBER MUSINGS O Let This Be My Portion with the Blest ! O let this be my portion with the blest, To see Him risen up to shut the door, To hear him gently say, for evermore ; To look, to love, to lean upon His breast, To hear the pulses of His soul confest While slowly He unfolds the precious store, Which all the years for me he gladly bore, Of love unspeakable ; to look and rest, And feel His tears in silence once again Shed over me as whilom from His cross, When love and pity mingled with His pain, He counted earth and heaven and all but loss That me, even me, He might forever gain To be through Him made clean from earthly dross ! ioS OUR FEET SHALL STAND WITHIN THY GATES Our Feet Shall Stand within Thy Gates Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O dear Jerusalem ! Here do we travel on Hardly bestead till days long hours be gone, And wonder when we shall behold with clear Untroubled eyes Thy lofty towers, and near Thee draw with songs and everlasting joy Upon our heads. What hopes do we employ Our moments with, when worn with toil or fear, We seek some shelter in the wilderness, W T here we may sit, and weave upon the air Some picture out of sunshine, sweet and fair, And call it by Thy name ; and often bless Thy open gates and glories faintly seen — Unshadowed deeps of gold and purple sheen ! 109 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Psalms A palace rises in its calm repose Before me in the wilderness, as fair As morning when upon the tender air She rears her dome in color like a rose. Within a calm melodious music flows, In which impleached are gleams of gold, and rare Pale lights of silvery hue. 'Tis like a prayer Of saint that was a sinner, in which glows The vivid shaft of light mid subtle glooms. The windows brighten with each radiant morn, And with the evening pale to softest blooms Of ruddy glory, printing on forlorn Repentant souls sweet images of dooms Prepared for victors in the world new-born. no TE DEUM LAUDAMUS Te Deum Laudamus Exalted strain ! The Church's jubile hymn And creed and supplication all in one, Touched with a penitential tone since won One rest is not : a window in our dim And narrow life, where heavenly light doth limn A mystic vision in the hues of earth. We more and more discern its priceless worth, And fill the cup of music to the brim To give it overflow. The melody Of voices from the saintly past I hear, Like murmurs of the shining summer sea, Bringing the Church's solemn memories near, As if from islands in eternity — Voices of victory, awful and dear. in DECEMBER MUSINGS The Collects Adown the long nave of the Christian year Those saintly windows oft by hands unknown Wrought for us, in the ages past, alone Surpass all mortal worth. How justly dear The meaning in their limned forms which wear The light of heavenly truth ! Christ on His throne And on His cross, in Salem with His own, In lilied fields and on the crystal mere Is their great theme, while a vast multitude In sanctity pre-eminent, and crowned With grace are there, and all the blissful brood Of angels bright. There Charities are found In white arrayed or golden robed, and food For Faith to feed on till the trumpet sound. 112 BROUGHT TO BAPTISM Brought to Baptism Here have ye brought this child to be baptized, Ye faithful ones ! God shall reward your care, And this sweet babe shall henceforth duly share The heritage of saints. Oh ! who hath prized So great a gift enough, or hath surmised The greatness of the love that now to prayer And faith descends to make us clean and fair, So angels may attend us, lest, advised Of evil, we submit, and win not heaven. Dear little one ! Thou shall be gently fed With sacred food free from all earthly leaven : The Shepherd Good that all thy fathers led Shall lead thee too, and when the shadowy even Surrounds thy soul, He shall lift up thine head. 113 DECEMBER MUSINGS Public Catechising It is a sight that gladdens and inspires When parish children meet at evensong Within the holy place, and hear the strong Deep burden of the word, and feel the fires Of ages burn upon their hearts: in choirs They sing their tender hymns, and then await The pastor's questions, near the chancel gate All duly ranged, as long ago their sires, In whose strong faith they walk. Doctrine and duty, Sacrament and prayer, and the holy vows Made at the font, when on their infant brows The cross was signed, in fresh sweet light they see. O Pastors ! be ye diligent and wise, And in your solemn churches catechize. 114 VOICES OF CHILDREN Voices of Children O little melodies that fill the air Like winged joys arrayed in silver beams, You make the world a realm of gentle dreams, And spread before me visions sweet and fair ! Your voices, dearest children, in which care Has made no rift, flow on like limpid streams O'er rosy rocks, and blend in gleeful screams In one cascade of sound ! Would I were there To drown my heart in your dear tender mirth, And be a child again a little while ! What grace is Childhood's, innocent and free, Pure as the freshest dawn, and without guile ! Thou hast a beautiful eternity, O child ! Thy mother- world shall thrill and smile For ever, when she hears, and thinks on thee. "5 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Sacrifice God will provide Himself a lamb, my son ! " So Abraham to Isaac, and they two Went on. They climbed the hill beneath the blue Bright morn, silent as death, as if to stone And adamant the world had turned, and moan Must not be heard on that highway. " How few His years and fair ! " bethought the sire so true And kind," yet let God's sovereign will be done ! " The soft winds played about the boy's bright locks And sunbeams on his brow their blessings laid ; O agony ! O faith ! O silent rocks ! O heart that naught can ever make afraid ! And God received the lamb for sacrifice, And gave it back to faithful heart and eyes. 116 ELISHA '5 BONES Elisha's Bones It was a happy chance, as men would say, That gave revival to a burnt-out life ; When frightened sore by Moab's band of strife They waited not their dead to put away In grave for it prepared, but turned to lay It in Elisha's tomb. Lo ! How their grief Fled far with Death surprised ; whose thraldom brief At touch of saintly bones was like the play Of lightning, that startles and is gone. So Let darker shadows intercept our gloom, And from unnoted founts fresh comfort flow. We sadly think we have caught up with doom Only to find our hearts with rapture glow, When withered hopes revive in Jesus' tomb ! 117 DECEMBER MUSINGS O When Shall All This World Oh ! When shall all this world that Thou hast made Acknowledge Thee, Great King ! When shall the lands That lie in darkness stretch their open hands To Thee for light, and on Thy gracious aid Lean willingly ! When shall the awful shade Of death pass from our race, and we take on Our destined sanctity ! Oh ! from Thy throne Look down, and to all Christian men afraid To give themselves and all they have to Thee, Give strength Divine, that so Thy will supreme May lead them on to drive the heathen dream From this Thy world ! We never shall be free To bring all men to Thee, till we bring all We are and have and love when Thou dost call ! 118 WITH HIM IN THE HOLY MOUNT With Him in the Holy Mount Oh ! May we not with Jesus make our way To where the cloud rests on the mountain top, As if the open heavens of God will drop Down righteousness, and there behold Him pray, And manifest His glory ? May we stay While saints adore their King, and of His death And passion speak : and feel the soothing breath Of heaven about our brows ? Shall inner day Unfold upon the night its sevenfold beam And bathe us in its tender waves of gold, That through eternal years have calmly rolled From sphere to sphere ? Shall we forget our dream Of sorrow for a while, and talk of joy ? Our hours with Him we thus may oft employ. 119 DECEMBER MUSINGS Lest Ye be Faint Lest ye be faint and weary in your minds, Consider Him, O Christians ! that endured The scornful words of sinful men. Allured Are all our hearts by Him who binds Our safety with His life, and round us winds His cords of love. These hearts shall be assured Before Him Who through sacrifice has cured Them of the primal fault, and always finds In pity how His pardon He shall show, When oft we grieve Him kind. Ah ! Blessed One ! Thou diedst, but our spirits gently flow Along the even beds of peace, and shun The peril and the pain. We cannot know How much Thou spentest for our kingdom won ! 1 20 JOY Joy Who that has joy hears not some undertone Of sadness stealing through the usual theme Of His continual song, and will not deem His life monotonous if joy alone His portion were ! 'Twould be a heavy stone To weigh him down, and make this living seem A kind of folly, and a mordant dream. Joy is itself when underneath its throne Sorrow is chained, not lost to memory, So he may see from what a bitter woe And servitude he has been freed. Thus he Rejoices in his joy, and in its glow Glories aright — so his humility, Kept fresh by thought of sorrow, quells the foe. 121 DECEMBER MUSINGS Paradise I stand upon thy threshold and look in, O Paradise ! Mine eyes droop as in sleep, While in thy soft and mellow haze they steep Themselves. O blissful meadows where no sin Blights the immortal blooms, where spirits win With toilless ease essential joys and reap Unutterable peace ! Who would not keep Thy sabbaths, all forgetful of the din Of time's great billows ? O, thou happy vale ! What music fills my soul with blessedness Too deep for earth, which memory will fail To echo when the vision fades ! O, bless My ears again ! Come quickly like a sail O'er Summer waves, with messages of peace. 122 /,V THAT DAY In That Day When heavens renewed reflect the earth renewed, And righteousness within them all shall shine All perfected forever ; there shall swell Upon the wildered air the song bedewed Of holiest grace, from that great multitude Innumerable by man. Who can tell Its burden while within this narrow fell He lingers waiting till the tempest rude Is past ! O blessed be the certain day That must o'ertop the hills in God's own time, When darkness flees away, and light sublime And unsubduable pours forth its ray On all created things ! and all respond As waters to the skies in sunbeams blond ! 123 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Peace of God 'Tis afternoon. The far-off summer hill Sleeps in this Sunday glory like a saint Awaiting resurrection. Shadows faint Mysteriously o'er it fall ; the still Sweet gentle fields in slumbrous softness fill With calm delight the pensive eye. Complaint Of beast or bird is not. Every taint Of busy life seems banished hence until The earth seems changed to heaven. The tender air Is mildly fragrant with the balm of flowers. Far off the shining river glides as fair As glides this mellow flow of quiet hours. Lo ! at his door the pastor, free from care, Sees stretching far away the heavenly bowers. 124 PEACE IS A PEARL Peace is a Pearl Peace is a pearl found in the glassy sea And worn upon the brow of such as dwell In that far happy land ineffable, That's hidden in its own deep mystery. They borrow it who by these angels three Are visited — Repentance, Faith and Love ; But here it shines not as it doth above, But hath a wavering gleam, its purity Dependeth on the strength of holy light In which they live and pray, just as a coal Ripens with flame or pales beneath the flight Of airy wings ; but oh ! the sacred soul Shall have it for its own 'mid spirits bright, And it shall shine like stars about the pole. 125 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Faithful Pastor Far in my heart I have a solemn shrine All consecrated to a pastor dear — True man of God, of love almost divine, Whose memory is ever bright and clear. Oft doth his image stand before my eyes ; He seems to speak, as in the days of yore, Some precept holy or some counsel wise, Some gentle lesson from his well-wrought store. Oft in the quiet of his own abode From classic pages he would turn away To talk av/hile about the heavenly road, And point me to the glad eternal day. With studies would he mingle holy fires, And speak with tongues not used in Greece or Rome ; And walking midst the flowers, his pure desires Still would be kindling for our Father's home. In Church he seemed a saintly angel blest, A rare beatitude his presence shed ; He lent a beauty to the sacred vest, And from our hearts all earthly feeling fled. 126 THE FAITHFUL PASTOR The sermon deeply touched the quivering soul, And wrought a sense of sin within the breast: Then Jesus' mercies he would all unroll, Forgiveness, victory and endless rest. Then rare and wonderful it was to see With what devout and tender awe he stood To break the pledge of immortality, And give into our hands the heavenly food. And when he came to bless us all at last, We scarce could see his form through blissful tears ; Glories and gifts came raining down so fast, And love that fills the heart and casts out fears. Once there was dread and sorrow nigh at hand, My sire lay half within the shadowy vale ; The good man came, and all about that land, Which Christ prepares he talked till twilight pale. He read the fourteenth chapter of Saint John, As only he could read who felt it all : Then prayed that as in heaven God's glory shone, So here on earth His tender light might fall. ^7 DECEMBER MUSINGS They both long since have faded from our view, No more on earth I'll see their kindly forms; But in the angels' eyes they brighter grew As rainbows brighten after earthly storms. My God ! I thank Thee that in early years I often saw Thy faithful servant's face, And that so often now it still appears In vivid vision and with all its grace. I still would follow where he led the way, And in his shining footsteps place my feet : I would be worthy, Lord, to dwell alway Where still might be diffused such influence sweet. I would all pastors might be fashioned so, That strength and healing on their lives might wait : That all the people might in goodness grow And come with singing unto Sion's gate. Here then I'll write for all our pastors dear His epitaph, that they may learn it well : And beg them all to follow very near This pattern true, of whom I joy to tell. 12; THE FAITHFUL PASTOR Epitaph. S. B. B. To others gentle, to himself severe, Within his face the light of goodness shined ; Temperate and modest, simple and sincere, His was a chastened soul to God resigned. One only thought within his bosom reigned — To make Christ precious in the eyes of men : And now this blest reward he has attained, To rest in peace till Christ shall come again. 129 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Temporal and the Eternal How subtle and how fugitive Our loftiest thoughts and feelings are ! Some sordid care a moment takes, And when we seek they are not there. So vanish all the fairest things That earth or sky can entertain ; The dewdrop and the sunset glow Seem almost to be fair in vain. Those shadowy lights that sometimes come Across our waking, shapes serene That for majestic moments glide Before us in a mystic sheen, Those wavering pinnacles and domes Of thought and prayer that lift the soul, And tender mists and rosy dreams Once touched, away together roll. no THE TEMPORAL AND THE ETERNAL It will not be forever thus, The world we seek is brighter far Than all that's lovely round us here — Sublimer than the mountains are. Our troubled vision shall grow calm, Like waters when the breezes fail ; And things too holy to wait long Upon it here, shall never pale. Thy tranquil eye shall see the king In all His beauty ; then be sure All else that's holy, fair, divine, Thine eye shall see in regions pure. i Si DECEMBER MUSINGS The Troubles of this Life Life's troubles in great part are like A breath upon the window-pane, A moment spread across our view, And in a moment gone again. But some are like the nightly frost That gathers on the windcw-pane, And will not pass until the sun Or fire shines out all bright again. But all shall surely pass away That linger on life's window-pane ; We shall look out and see all clear When our true Sun shall rise again, 1 32 CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN Clear Shining after Rain Oh ! it is sweet to hear the birds Sing gaily after lengthened rains, As if the pent-up melodies Mixed with their pleasure subtle pains. And blessed will it be, my child ! To let our hearts pour out their songs, Which grow in us through earthly storms, When open heaven to us belongs. Clear shining after rain, clear notes That fill the sky with mystery, Clear hearts washed free from every sin, Clear souls to love, clear eyes to see : All shall be ours ; the atmosphere Of peace and pardon, light and grace Around us evermore shall fall ; For we shall see our Father's face. 133 DECEMBER MUSINGS To Comfort All that Mourn Mournest thou, friend of the Bridegroom ? Alas ! how dim and poor thine eyes That see not in this very room A glory fairer than the skies. Jesus is with thee, crowned with light, And robed in majesty divine ; The board is spread before thy sight, He turns the water into wine. Be ready always to sit down, For His is a perpetual feast ; Each day His love afresh is shown, He is the Everlasting Priest. All days are holy where He is, All places clean where He abides ; The air is radiant with bliss, Wherein His saving presence hides. 134 TO COMFORT ALL THAT MOURN While here with Him I feast and sing, The years shall pass away like flowers Then like a bird upon the wing I'll fly with Him from wintry bowers To where the light is always calm, And mellow breezes fragrant fall, In time and tune with that pure psalm That hallows there the heart of all. 135 DECEMBER MUSINGS Stir Up Thy Strength and Come and Help Us O let Thy cross give forth new light Through all the nations far and wide ; Dawn on man's bleared and blinking sight, O vision of the Crucified ! Stir up in us the will to grow From weakness unto living strength ; Cause us the way of life to know, That we may reach the goal at length. Convert our power to power like thine, And our poor love make love indeed : That we may work Thy work divine And help to fill the human need. The world lies unconverted yet, Because we are unworthy Thou Shouldst bring the nations to forget The idols under which they bow. If we would trample on our sin The world would raze its heathen fanes, Then Thou wouldst wholly enter in And consecrate our streets and lanes. 136 STIR UP THY STRENGTH In clothing soft Thy prophets walk, And dwell in royal courts at ease, And spirits perish while they talk Of only what their patrons please. Raise up Thy power and come anear And quicken us to do Thy will — That will so holy and austere — Renew it in us ever still. Make us to dread Thy vengeance now Lest when too late we turn to see The recompense for broken vow— A shattered immortality ! *37 DECEMBER MUSINGS Our Shield and Our Reward Waiting for Thy salvation, Lord, I pass the days and years, Through famine, exile, suffering I see Thy hand appears. 'Tis Thou that leadest us along Like sheep from hill to vale, And feedest us with daily bread, E'en when our pastures fail. Sad and forsaken in the land We find Thee strong and true — A friend that never left alone The hearts that near Thee drew. Our pilgrimage is nearly o'er — The few and evil days — Our home stands out before our eyes, The realm of endless praise. From death to life we quickly pass, From darkness into light : And angels carry up our souls To walk with Thee in white ! 133 THE FATHER SEEKETH WORSHIPPERS The Father Seeketh Worshippers The Father seeketh worshippers Among the sons of time, That in His angels' melodies May take their part sublime. I marvel when I read the words, " The Father seeketh such," What love is this that stoops to earth With spirit and with truth divine, With fire and vision clear, That we may rightly worship Him, And at His throne appear ! Long have we spent our sighs in vain, With earthliness oppressed : For things that perish in the use Forgot what's first and best ; 139 DECEMBER MUSINGS But heed me now this gracious word, " The Father seekest you," And be henceforth His worshippers, And sing his truth anew With souls that answer to the truth, And walk within the light ; Come thou, and sing within us all, O Spirit Infinite ! 140 WOULD THE PEOPLE WERE PROPHETS Would that all the Lord's People were Prophets " O slow of heart that will not take God's word and prove it true By work and love, and for His sake Make it of heaven the clue. Raise up, O Lord, Thy power of old And touch the people's heart : Give them true light and make them bold To speak in street and mart. Raise up Thy witnesses like John, That in the ancient flood Repenting tribes baptized, and won Vast multitudes to God. Be Ruler midst Thine enemies, Unloose Thy conquering bands; For Thou art great and true and wise, That all the heaven commands. 141 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Pastor's Prayer Make me a lamp, and fill me with Thy light, That through the dark and stormy paths of night I may lead on some wandering souls to where The morning soon must break all clear and fair. Give me the power to do some certain good, Although it be not all Thy servant would ; Not only when I work and speak and pray, But even when I rest by night or day. The rose, unconscious of its fragrance sweet, Gives pleasure though it have no hands nor feet ; True lives do good when labor turns to rest, And they who simply look on them are blest. The rain does good not only when it falls Upon the famished fields, but after calls For many days a blessing down from heaven, From morn till noon, from noon to peaceful even. So truly, fully would I do each deed That this should be its lasting, glorious meed, That never should its benefit be spent So long as any live for whom 'tis meant. 142 THE PASTOR'S PRAYER Shine Thou through all my dim, sequestered hours, As when I labor with unfolded powers ; Live Thou through me in others far and near, To whom at any time I taught Thy fear. Bless all that ever heard my voice in prayer, Who lingered when through all the solemn air Ascended words of living sacrifice, And grace poured down in torrents from the skies. Bless all that were regenerate through me, And knelt within the shadow of the tree ; And all that ever came within the gate — The needy, weak and sick, and desolate. I know not what shall be in future years, I shall not suffer any foolish fears ; But make me ready for to stay or go As Thou shalt choose for me, Lord ! be it so. 143 DECEMBER MUSINGS " He Wist not That it was True Peter — the worn Apostle — slept Upon his prison bed, While many in the city wept Lest he should join the dead. But lo ! an angel at his side Took off his weary chain, The iron gate was opened wide, And he was free again. At first he wist not it was true, But thought a vision rose Upon his troubled soul, and drew Between him and his woes. But in the breezes of the night His spirit wakened clear, He knew that now an angel bright Had been so very near. O ! that we all had eyes to see Our kind Deliverer Come to our prison tenderly And loose our fetters there ! 144 HE WIST NOT THAT IT W AS TRUE And think not it must be a dream Because so wonderful ; For nothing can He ever deem Too great to save a soul. Tis not a vision that I see, 'Tis God Who worketh all — My God that from eternity Comes to my prison wall. O ! it is true as heaven above, His angel I behold, And He shall bring me in His love Within the gates of gold. H5 DECEMBER MUSINGS God is Greater Than Our Heart When we choose the evil way, Fearless of the judgment day, And from holiness depart, God is greater than our heart. When the darkness fills our eyes, So we see not in the skies Visions richer than man's art, God is greater than our heart. If the light within us burn Dimly, so we cannot learn Truths not spoken in the mart, God is greater than our heart. Though we take not up the cross Daily to our worldly loss, Suffering its healing smart, God is greater than our heart. 146 GOD IS GREATER THAN OUR HEART If His finger gently touch And our heart condemn us much, Or He smite with heavy dart, God is greater than our heart. When we wade through perils deep And great bitter tears we weep, Only this can peace impart, God is greater than our heart. Then will I most humbly pray For His mercy in that day : And with this His word depart, God is greater than our heart. 147 DECEMBER MUSINGS For Thou Art with Me Although my sorrows have been great and sore, I will not weep : The sea of God's sweet mercy I explore And find it deep : The pearl of peace I find for my sad soul ; And now I know I shall be well and whole. His care is always tender and so true, I will not fear : His kindness with my trouble always grew To soothe and cheer : His blessing with me doth He always share, And lo ! He never shutteth out my prayer. His throne of love stands open to mine eyes ; I will not fail Nor be discouraged since the sacred skies Their lights unveil ; I will go on to learn His gracious will And He will bear with all my weakness still. 148 ALL DAY LONG THE STARS ARE SHINING All Day Long the Stars are Shining All day long the stars are shining, Though their forms we cannot see : Their pure glories intertwining Make a white immensity. Seems your life so weak and narrow, Children of this mortal day ? Are you better than the sparrow Flitting in the morning ray ? Ah ! Your influence who can measure ? Which unseen is ever felt ; Like the stars, you have a treasure, Which in other lives must melt. Could those stars undo their being When the sunlight hides their beams, Earth and sun and orbs were fleeing Swiftly down destruction's streams. Influence must work on for ever, Even when withdrawn from sight That which makes it, like a river, Flows through regions infinite. 149 DECEMBER MUSINGS All night long the sun is gleaming Over lands unlike our own ; Millions wake while we are dreaming, Quickened at his awful throne. God is working while we're sleeping ; In His love our spirits share; And from hill to hill is leaping Grace and Providential care. All the universe is thrilling With creative life and power ; Mind-abysses fast are filling With an everlasting dower. We must hope to see but little Of the boundless work of love, Though not e'en a jot or tittle Fail its victory to prove. 'Tis enough that God the Holy Teaches us to do His will ; And that in a spirit lowly We believe and labor still. 5o ONE THING HAVE I DESIRED One Thing Have I Desired One thing of God I do desire, And for it always pray, That where he lights His sacred fire I may forever stay. Each morn the streams of heavenly grace I wish to see flow down : Each eve I fain would see His face, His sceptre and His crown. Each day I wish to hear the bells Upon His priestly dress, And listen while the trumpet tells Of all His righteousness. Each day I wish to bring my gift, And on the altar lay : And all my wakened powers uplift While there I meekly pray. 151 DECEMBER MUSINGS I wish to sit at Jesus' feet While He unfolds the love, So true and wonderful and sweet, That purchased heaven above. I wish to grow each day like Him, Who died upon the tree, And soon exchange these regions dim For bright eternity. The morning hastens to appear When He shall take me home, O let me bid farewell to fear And say, Lord Jesus, come ! 152 THE EUCHARIST1C HOUR The Eucharistic Hour The victory is Thine, O Christ ! The cross set forth Thy power ; And lo ! The blessed Eucharist Proclaims it at this hour. In faith we find Thee, Son of God ; We know Thee, who Thou art ! We come to Thee; and in Thy blood Seek peace for every heart. Over our souls the Spirit broods, How calm it is around ! No voice of earthly care intrudes, We kneel on holy ground. Now hear we from the awful throne Set in the realms of bliss, 1 Lo ! This is My Beloved Son, In whom My pleasure is." 153 DECEMBER MUSINGS Our sorrow turns to joy ; our ears Are thrilled with solemn strains Which echo from immortal spheres, Where love forever reigns. O rapture ! When believing souls Find Jesus strong and kind, O'er them from heaven a glory rolls, In them the light hath shined. 154 AWAKE AND SING Awake and Sing Dear little souls ! awake and sing, For this is Christmas Day ; Angels have long been on the wing To light your Saviour's way : The heavens above are bright and blue, To God your tender praise is due ; Awake and sing, Jesus is King, All on this Christmas Day. My little lambs, I am so glad That Jesus Christ is born, This world would be so very sad Without its Christmas morn ; But now He brings us all good cheer And makes us happy every year ; Awake and sing , Jesus is King, All on this Christmas Day. 155 DECEMBER MUSINGS Our Heavenly Father is so good And always kind, I know : He gives us all our daily food, Because He loves us so ; But now He sends His only Son To comfort every little one ; Awake and sing, Jesus is King, All on this Christmas Day. I wonder how we all can show Our thankfulness and love ! O yes ! we all can daily grow Like Him who reigns above : We all can be more sweet and kind, Some holy duty we can find ; Awake and sing, Jesus is King, All on this Christmas Day. i 5 6 AWAKE AND SING I love to hear the Christmas bells Ring out their merry chime, It seems as if an angel tells The tidings of the time : It seems as if my heart goes forth To west and east and south and north Awake and sing, Jesus is King, All on this Christmas Day. 157 DECEMBER MUSINGS A Psalm of Gladness My soul ! look up, rejoice and sing, And to thy God oblations bring : A ready will His will to learn, A love that for His love will yearn, A hunger for His righteousness, A thirst for His abundant grace. Lift up thy prayer to Him who hears, And ask for freedom from thy fears ; For faith that always will prevail, For hope that nevermore can fail, For joy of all He does for thee, For peace with Him who makes thee free. Lift up thy voice in gracious praise And bless Him for His righteous ways ; Exalt Him who created all, And then redeemed thee from the fall, And now makes clean thy heart;within, And saves it from the power of sin. i 5 8 A PSALM OF GLADNESS O let thy song grow sweeter still, Since He thy nature came to fill With graces pure and manifold, More precious than all gifts of gold : Who even was content to die If so thou mightest reign on high. Aye ! praise Him who vouchsafes to live Within thee now, nor fails to give Whatever thou can'st seek or need, Who ceases not His death to plead In thy behalf before the throne, Nor ever leaves thee sad and lone. O sing some new and purer song, And tell His mercies all day long, Whose pardon flows in boundless streams, Whose recompense before thee gleams, Who saves thee from the dread abyss, And takes thee soon to endless bliss ! 159 DECEMBER MUSINGS By Thy Cross and Passion Saviour, lifted on the tree ! Draw my spirit unto Thee : Take away my heavy load, Strengthen me to walk the road That to light's great realm is leading, Through the wounds that once were bleeding. Jesus that wast crucified ! Keep me ever by Thy side ; Make me know the truth divine, Let it through my spirit shine : Make me love the way of duty ; Give me visions of Thy beauty. For Thy dear and holy cross Let me count all things but loss : Cleanse my eyes to see how vain Is this world of sin and pain : Then upon the heavenly morrow Turn to joy Thy servant's sorrow ! 160 WHY WEE PEST THOU? Why Weepest Thou? Why weepest thou ? poor sorrower ! Whom seekest thou among these graves ? Thy Christ reveals Himself to thee As one who by His rising saves. Think not that Death can always hold Thy treasures in his dreaded grasp, Those blissful feet that walk in light Thou shalt with joy undying clasp. Dost thou not know that Jesus stands Before the gate of every tomb, To give to Faith this answer sweet, That deep in heaven is yet more room ? That angels sit in sepulchres Clothed in their garments of the light, To watch while faithful ones lie still, Wrapt in soft slumber of the night ? Then go and tell the news to all That weep the weary hours away, And trust His coming, soon or late, To open wide the realms of day. 161 DECEMBER MUSINGS Easter Awake and sing, ye dwellers in the dust, For lo ! the resurrection of the just ! Arise and shine, your lasting light is come, Soar upward to your pure and saintly home. Awake and sing, immortal hearts of fire, That now for visions of the King aspire ; Ye shall behold Him in His robes of light ; Rejoice, rejoice, He passeth into sight. O never have ye known what vision is ! O never have ye felt so deep a bliss ! The end for which He made you now is won, Behold the planets hasten to their Sun. O now ye put on joy as night the day, And leap with praises, that once knelt to pray : Ye waken all the kingdoms of the light To new and yet more holy anthems bright. O fruitful voice of God ! the mighty King : O faithful power of Christ ! Let everything That breathes and loves and sweetly sings adore The love that lives and sings for evermore ! 162 IT IS THE LORD It is the Lord Rise up, my fair one, come away, And clothe Thee with the golden day : Forget the past, and let me be Thy light and joy eternally. Behold the vision in the skies ! The realms of beauty greet Thine eyes ; See'st not afar that radiant dome ? There is Thine everlasting home. There will I all my glory show, And all my saints shall love me so : I never told them half the things With whose bright fame all heaven rings. Speed on, my fair one, haste away . We need not linger by the way ; The future shines, the past is not, Higher and higher is thy lot. 163 DECEMBER MUSINGS O blessed shalt Thou be, my dove, My undefiled ! Thy Father's love Shall compass Thee, and angels sweet Shall gather to Thy shining feet. And all that love Thee shall attend The entrance of their holy friend ; And we shall find a glad new song One blissful rapture to prolong ! 164 EASTER JOY Easter Joy Hast thou seen the vision glorious ? Jesus is alive again : Calm is He and all-victorious, Free from every grief and pain ; Now the tomb a temple is, Now the realms of death are His. Hast thou heard the blessed story ? For believers heaven is won ; Thou may'st dwell in endless glory With God's dear and only Son ; Eden blossoms as of yore, Life grows brighter evermore. Hast thou felt the awful gladness ? Thou art brother to thy King ; Far from earth and all its sadness Thou shalt soar on eagle's wing'; For He is our risen Lord — Jesus in our flesh adored. 165 DECEMBER MUSINGS Divine Gifts A light shines out upon the sea, Perchance some message comes towards thee O who can tell what joys are sailing To this dark shore where we sit wailing ! The love of God ordains us good Long ere it can be understood : His angels now prepare the treasures, With which at last to fill our measures. The stars beneath whose beams we rest Rolled into shape before the crest Of wave leaped up, or surge of mountains, Yet only late shined here like fountains. Before we sinned the Saviour's love Pleaded our pardon there above ; Before we touched the sacred chalice He saved us from sin's scornful malice. Peace broods upon the solemn wave, Fit is the time a boon to crave : This is my prayer that heavenly morrow Be ours though here we now have sorrow. 166 SATURDAY EVENING Saturday Evening This sun that sets in radiant calm Shall rise to-morrow to the psalm Of thousands upon thousands, where Altars are spread with linen fair. And ere he sets again he'll shine On consecrated bread and wine, And tears that gleam awhile unshed In eyes that seem to see the dead. Then shall the holy psalms be sung, And prayer shall rise on trembling tongue, And soul shall speak to soul of Him Who comes His vine to prune and trim. Be clean and ready, O my heart In such dear praise to take thy part ! In such sweet notes to sing awhile, And sit beneath the Father's smile. A light shall rest on Sion's hill, God's presence shall the temple fill ; A light shall shine within the breast That humbly goes to Him for rest. 167 DECEMBER MUSINGS Through all the consecrated hours Rest midst the bloom of heavenly flowers, Walk by the banks of heavenly streams, Kneel when the torch immortal gleams. Perhaps some holy day at even, When many prayers pass into heaven, Thy God will send an angel wise To bear thee into Paradise. Perhaps to-morrow's eventide Shall see thee with the Crucified ; In lowliness confess thy sin, And pray that thou may'st enter in. 168 SUNDAY MORNING Sunday Morning To-day Thy mercy shines In many an ancient fane, Over the sea in distant lands, In mountain and in plain. Where saints have slept their sleep Through ages long agone, Under the arches dim and gray, Under the towers of stone. Te Deum still is sung, And all the holy psalms : Hymns, like the oil on Aaron's head, Pour down their fragrant balms. The Apostolic creed, All glorious as of old, Passes on notes of majesty In through the gates of gold. The sacred word is taught, And souls of holy fear And love and benedictions filled, To God in Christ draw near. 169 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Eucharistic feast, With simple, solemn rite, Is given to God and given to man With gladness infinite. Through this new land of ours The same sweet mercy streams, Where temples rise all consecrate, Fair as the angels' dreams. The world in God is one, One faith unites mankind In golden bonds prepared in heaven, All have one hope, one mind. To-day I, too, must sing ; Prepare, my soul, to meet Thy God, thy Saviour and thy Friend, And taste His mercy sweet. Lift up thyself, my heart, Put on thy robe of praise, Adorn thyself, and oh ! be clean To sing such holy lays ! 170 SUNDAY EVENING Sunday Evening In an old legend rare and quaint, A sunbeam covered by a saint Beneath her veil continued bright Long after day had turned to night. The beams that filled the world to-day Fade not, though noon has passed away : In hearts that thought to hold them fast Some tender glory long will last. For Christ the Sun of Righteousness Adorns the Church with truth and grace, And on this holiest day in seven Prepares our souls to dwell in heaven. As in the wind the waves grow white Our souls grow pure when from the height Of blissful heaven the Holy Ghost Breathes on " the Sacramental host." O blest the penitential tears That welcome everlasting years ! O blest the vows renewed to-day That speed us on our homeward way ! 171 DECEMBER MUSINGS O blest the recompense bestowed Instead of all sin's weary load ! O blest the love upon us poured By Him whom all the world adored ! O blest the people everywhere Who laid aside their earthly care ! O blest the hearts that found a place Wherein to see their Father's face ! And blest art thou, my soul, to-night That entered deeper into light ! O may we all grow holier thus, His love be perfected in us ! 172 EVENTIDE Eventide Breezes soft and odorous That lay in the breast of the rose Fly about at evening's close To enjoy the calm and deep repose, And fan mine eyelids feverous, And fit my restless spirit thus For night and starry glows. Children's voices generous, That sound like the stroke of the spheres, Swell o'er the fields like other years, Which sorrowful memory often hears, Like gladness toned to piteous Soft gentle cries all-duteous, No longer fraught with tears. Blessings bland and beauteous, That fill all the earth and the sky, Float over me and make me sigh For comfort and peace with God on high, And voice of harp victorious, And sight of Him all-glorious In His felicity. 173 DECEMBER MUSINGS Be Not Silent Unto Me Jesus ! let me hear Thee speak While the sunlight fades away, While the stars in beauty break Through the gloom with crystal ray. 'Twas Thy wont at eventide With Thy mother to sit long, Gazing at the heavens so wide, Breathing David's pastoral song. Oft her gentle soul would droop With a strange and shadowy fear, And Thy psalm would softly stoop On low wings to give her cheer. Then as darkness deeper fell Rising higher Thy voice would bear Messages to some sweet dell, When Thy kinsmen tarried there. Jesus ! here I sit and long For some holy, tender word, For some echo of the song That to-night in heaven is heard. 174 BE NOT SILENT UNTO ME Be not silent unto me, Tell of mercy, hope and peace ; I, Thy kinsman, wait on Thee For Thy merciful release. Tell me of unfailing love, Tell me that my sin's forgiven, Tell me, Thou that sit'st above, There is rest for me in heaven. Jesus ! Now will I rejoice And lie down and take my rest, For I hear Thy gracious voice, And who heareth it is blest. Spread Thy mercy o'er the lands, Bless the weary, sick and poor, Rest, O Lord, worn hearts and hands, Shed Thy light through every door, 175 DECEMBER MUSINGS A Little Hymn at Even A golden light is in the West, A heavenly hope is in my breast : A few short hours and morn will come, A little while and I go home. O Father ! well I know the love And mercy which I daily prove ; Infinite love that comforts me, A tender mercy, rich and free. The countless stars shine clear and bright, And make a temple of the night ; Oh, from pure hearts may anthems rise To Thee enthroned upon the skies ! Soft breezes blow from out the West, Oh, may Thy Spirit bring me rest ! Sweet sounds arise from fields and streams, May heavenly songs steal through my dreams. 176 A LITTLE HYMN AT EVEN The dews fall silent o'er the land, Shed pardon gently from Thy hand ; The world seems fresh and calm and still, Immortal God ! my spirit fill. Long time I gaze upon the stars, Heaven seems to burst her ancient bars ; Ah, then ! by faith I'll look to Thee All night, and Thou'lt descend to me. 177 DECEMBER MUSINGS Glorying in Jesus For righteousness I hunger and I thirst, Let me be filled with Thy sweet mercy, Lord Before all things I seek Thy kingdom first, O let me find, according to Thy word. With feeble hand I knock upon the door, Let it be opened soon lest I should faint; With tears and groans Thy pity I implore, O listen to my sorrowful complaint. I mourn the loss of many hopes and joys, Let me be comforted by Thy rich grace ; I tire of all earth's sordid dust and noise, Bring Thou my spirit to Thy hiding place. O nothing have I done all worthily, No fruit have I to just perfection brought, In all, in all but failure do I see, But I remember what my Saviour wrought. Yes ! I remember, and I turn to Thee, That never failest them that seek Thy face ; With only mercy for my dying plea ; Jesus ! I glory in Thy love and grace. 178 SPIRITUAL JOYS Spiritual Joys Let me feed among the lilies, Let me rest beside the well, Touch and taste the fruits so precious In the fields invisible. Let me love the things eternal That appear when sight grows dim, Glow with hopes of heavenly music, And the sweet undying hymn. Even now the world all holy Breaks upon the vision clear, God enthroned in rays of beauty Seems to draw so very near. Like the shadow on the mountain From the cloud that passes by Is His hand of peace and blessing Stretched athwart my heavenward eye. Like the shadow on the fountain From the trees that wave above Is the trembling of His presence On my trembling heart of love. 179 DECEMBER MUSINGS Thou art waiting to be gracious, For Thy mercy, Lord, I wait ; Blessed be the name victorious Which has opened wide the gate I Blessed be that world of beauty And the festival of saints Now prepared for souls repentant, For my lowly soul that faints I 1 80 MY PORTION My Portion Christ is my spirit's light At morn and noon and night ; . . My heart is fresh with dews of grace, Shed from His dying face. If I have any grief In Him I find relief, And when my soul takes up its psalm He poureth richer balm. And when my spirit weak Turns toward the future bleak, And fears dim phantoms of the tomb, He scattereth the gloom. Within His face so kind All comforts do I find Against that hour when forth I go Beyond those scenes of woe. All will be over soon, The wintry afternoon Wins golden sunbeams in the West, And I eternal rest ! 181 DECEMBER MUSINGS Where Dwellest Thou % Master mine, where dwellest Thou ? Wilt bid me come and see ? 1 fain would be where Thou art now, And through eternity. Long time I wandered sad and lone, Through paths of aimless toil, Finding no answer to my moan, For wounds no healing oil. Fainting I fall along the way I knew Thou passest by On gracious errands every day, And so would hear my sigh. I feel forsaken in the earth And long for endless rest ; I cannot bear their empty mirth, O take me to Thy nest ! For I am like a weary dove With broken, trembling wings: Unless Thou stretch Thy arms of love To Whom my spirit clings, 182 WHERE DWELLEST THOU? I cannot reach the pleasant door Where Thy disciples are, Nor greet the saints that evermore Thy daily bounties share. My raiment is all soiled and torn, Unfit for Thy abode, My visage is all marred and worn, With many a crushing load. But I have heard of garment bright Laid up within Thy store, And bread and wine and oil to light The brow and heart that's sore. And I have heard that none who sought Have ever sought in vain, Though nothing in their hands they brought To give to Thee again. I feel Thy powerful arm uphold ; My senses fade away ; But when I wake the realms of gold Shall shine in morning's ray ! 183 DECEMBER MUSINGS The Shepherd's Voice S. John 10 : 4 I know His voice. It is the Shepherd's call. It is the Lord ! I must arise and go : He bids me follow Him and leave you all A little while. A stranger calls not so. I knew I should not hear that voice in vain, There would be something in it rare and sweet, From answering which my heart could not refrain, And follow which I must, with eager feet. I knew if once He called my heart would leap As lightning from the east e'en to the west: For when He calls, He putteth forth His sheep, To lead them to the shadows where they rest. I knew He ne'er would leave me all alone — Though all alone for love of me He died — But come Himself and roll away the stone, And make the path of His salvation wide. For He has led and taught me all the years, And He has daily, hourly called me friend: I knew the gladness would cast out the fears, For having loved, He loves unto the end. 184 8 November 2, 1918 THE LIVI PASSING OF TWO BISHOPS FROM THE CHURCH MILITANT CHE last full week in October saw the departure of two bishops from the field of the American Church. On October 21st, in historic Saybrook, Conn., died the Rt. Rev. Charles Sauford Olmsted, D.D., Bishop of Colorado since 1902. On the following day, in Chicago, the Rt. Rev. Francis Key Brooke, D.D., Bishop of Oklahoma almost from the opening of the territory which has grown into a great state, followed his episcopal brother "over the great divide". "With sincere sorrow," writes a correspondent from Western New York, "the news was received here of the death of the Bishop of Colorado. During the last six months of the late Bishop Walker's life Bishop Olmsted had come to his assistance, and while going about the diocese he made many friends by his sweet personality, gentle manner, and exquisite but simple pulpit diction. When further episcopal visitations were needed last spring there was a general desire expressed by the clergy that Bishop Olmsted might be asked tr* mol-o tile™ TTo ola^^jaetirjjpscpA, .althonch it was much pauStssB asanoa Jiaq} uns jo uit?a uj 'M.og A"aq:} st? SaiSais pay 'uAiop SapioCea una sjaAia aqx>» •B9S aq; spug aqs aaojag }soi si aaq jo aunm A"jaA aq; pay 'ifTmb aoa lauqAi jou asnoqajBAi 'jaid aoa }aod J8A8U q^tjq anjtfH } n 9 • • • -api; A"aaA8 q;iAV q;jaq oa PIjoav aq; \\v raoaj sdiqs A"ia;t?}s pay 'appd pau qjiuaM. pni? jaA\.od ai T?as aq; o; napi?ojq saaAu aqx„ 3NHVTC 3HX dO iHCTCD 3HX„ I „ouii{5j o\{% jo %svd Suipunos se[Snq„ ino Jtjaq 9A\ rpqs uaq^ '\\v OAoqtf auiBj^; — unsays 9\n}{ qsiS -3njs i9ir|0UB £uvm 'jos^ 'auiuiog :A\io;siq ut pozipi-iouraii 9q r[iAY ^X6X Mojoq J° pJBaqun sauieu .raArjj jdpiuoj,i{Q uopuo^ aq^ ui 'q;iuiy xo^ Q A*q r si sihx (iooo AN.0JJ juoi^BJ^sn^t aq; joj sb[U 'mq fo^qujiuipB si ^uauix^uas oqx ^•Siiiuuiav q^JOAv puB 'uoav aq o; azud v su diqs 831 ••;sTH ■ ;..-■::