ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. Is it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and olive yards, and vineyards, and sheep, and oxen, and men servants, and maid servants? 2 Kings v. 26. Is this a time to plant and build, Add house to house, and field to field, Is this a time for moonlight dreams While souls are wandering far and wide No-rather steel thy melting heart To act the martyr's sternest part, Yes-let them pass without a sigh, And winds have rent thy sheltering bowers, A sinner in a life of care. The fire of Heaven is soon to fall, Then many a soul, the price of blood, Then in his wrath shall GOD uproot The trees He set, for lack of fruit, The towers His hand had deign'd to raise ; In silence, ere that storm begin, Count o'er His mercies and thy sin. Pray only that thine aching heart, Snatch'd sudden from th' avenging rod, How wilt thou then look back, and smile This was no world of rest for thee. beautiful d Jeremiah xlv. 4, 5. The Lord saith thus: Behold, that which I have built will I break down, and that which I have planted I will pluck up, even this whole land. And seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not, for, behold, I will bring evil upon all flesh, saith the Lord; but thy life will I give unto thee for a prey in all places whither thou goest. TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. And looking up to Heaven, He sighed, and saith unto him, Ephphatha, that is, Be opened. St. Mark vii. 34. THE Son of God in doing good Was fain to look to heaven and sigh: And shall the heirs of sinful blood Seek joy unmix'd in charity? He look'd to heaven, and sadly sigh’d— The joy of Heaven-accepted prayer? So o'er the bed where Lazarus slept O'erwhelming thoughts of pain and grief Over his sinking spirit sweep ;— "What boots it gathering one lost leaf "Out of yon sere and wither'd heap, "Where souls and bodies, hopes and joys, “All that earth owns or sin destroys, "Under the spurning hoof are cast, "Or tossing in th' autumnal blast ?" The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, The fetter'd tongue its chain may break ; But the deaf heart, the dumb by choice, The laggard soul, that will not wake, The guilt that scorns to be forgiven ;– These baffle e'en the spells of heaven; In thought of these, his brows benign Not even in healing cloudless shine. No eye but His might ever bear To gaze all down that drear abyss, |