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NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER
Then Nebuchadnezzar the King was astonied, and rose up in haste, and spake, and said unto his counsellors, Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire ? They answered and said unto the King, True, O King. He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God. Daniel iii. 25.
WHEN Persecution's torrent blaze
Wraps the unshrinking Martyr's head ;
When summer friends are gone and fled,
Or waves there not around his brow
A wand no human arm may wield,
His steps to guide, his soul to shield ?
Thou, Saviour, art his charmed bower,
And when the wicked ones behold
Thy favourites walking in thy light, Just as, in fancied triumph bold,
They deem'd them lost in deadly night, Amaz’d they cry, " What spell is this, “ Which turns their sufferings all to bliss ?
“ How are they free whom we had bound,
Upright, whom in the gulf we cast ? “ What wondrous helper have they found
“ To screen them from the scorching blast? “ Three were they—who hath made them four ? 66 And sure a form divine he wore,
6. Even like the Son of God.” So cried
The Tyrant, when in one fierce flame
Yet knew he not what angel came
As it had been a moist
o Song of the Three Children, ver. 27. whistling wind.”
He knew not, but there are who know :
The Matron, who alone hath stood, When not a prop seem'd left below,
The first lorn hour of widowhood, Yet cheer'd and cheering all, the while, With sad but unaffected smile :
The Father, who his vigil keeps
By the sad couch whence hope hath flown, Watching the eye where reason sleeps, ,
Yet in his heart can mercy own,
The Christian Pastor, bow'd to earth
With thankless toil, the vile esteem'd,
Of souls that will not be redeem'd,
These know : on these look long and well,
Cleansing thy sight by prayer and faith,
And thou shalt know what secret spell
Preserves them in their living death:
TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER
Hear, O ye mountains, the Lord's controversy, and ye strong foundations of the earth. Micah vi. 7.
WHERE is thy favour'd haunt, eternal Voice,
The region of thy choice,
Owns thine entire control ?-
When storms are hurrying by : 'Tis ’mid the strong foundations of the earth,
Where torrents have their birth.
No sounds of worldly toil, ascending there,
Mar the full burst of prayer ;
And round us and beneath
Of winds across the steep,
Meet for a hermit's ear,
The wheeling kite's wild solitary cry,
And, scarcely heard so high,
From many a torrent rill
Track'd by the blue mist well :
For Thought to do her part.
'Tis then we hear the voice of God within,
Pleading with care and sin: “ Child of my love ! how have I wearied thee?
“ Why wilt thou err from me? “ Have I not brought thee from the house of slaves,
“ Parted the drowning waves,