« PreviousContinue »
Then wake, my soul, to high desires,
Or, if she think, it is in scorn :
“ Where is your Lord ?" she scornful asks: 66 Where is his hire? we know his tasks; “ Sons of a king ye boast to be ; “ Let us your crowns and treasures see.”
We in the words of Truth reply,
“ Methinks your wisdom guides amiss, " To seek on earth a Christian's bliss ;
We watch not now the lifeless stone; “ Our only Lord is risen and gone."
Yet even the lifeless stone is dear
No more a charnel-house, to fence
"Tis now a cell, where angels use
'Tis now a fane, where Love can find Christ every where embalm'd and shrin'd; Aye gathering up memorials sweet, Where'er she sets her duteous feet.
Oh! joy to Mary first allow'd, .
Joy to the faithful Three renew'd,
So is it still: to holy tears,
MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK.
Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons ; but in every nation he that feareth him and worketh righteousness is accepted with him. Acts x. 34, 35.
and watch the new-born rill
With a bright emerald thread.
Canst thou her bold career foretel,
Her freshening billows send?
Perchance that little brook shall flow
The bulwark of some mighty realm,
With monarchs at their helm.
how far away
Or canst thou
Mid reeds and mountain fern;
Nurses her store, with thine to blend When many a moor and glen are past, Then in the wide sea end
Their spotless lives at last ?
Even so, the course of prayer
who knows? It springs in silence where it will, Springs out of sight, and flows
At first a lonely rill :
But streams shall meet it by and by From thousand sympathetic hearts, Together swelling high
Their chant of many parts.
Unheard by all but angel ears
and tears Would help a world undone.
The while upon his terrac'd roof
For heavenly vision soar'd.
Far o'er the glowing western main
The burnish'd water blaz’d.
The saint beside the ocean pray'd,
Seem'd sacred in that hour.