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So steadily he speeds,
With lips firm clos'd and fixed eye,
What sudden blaze is round him pour'd,
One moment-and to earth he falls :
For to the rest both words and form
Sees deep within that dazzling field
With keen yet pitying glance :
And hears the meek upbraiding call
As gently on his spirit fall
As if th' Almighty Son
Were prisoner yet in this dark earth,
Nor his great power begun.
"Ah wherefore persecut'st thou me ?"
His strain'd eye from the sight:
"Who art thou, Lord ?" he falters forth :So shall Sin ask of heaven and earth
At the last awful day.
"When did we see thee suffering nigh', "And pass'd thee with unheeding eye? "Great God of judgment, say!"
Ah! little dream our listless eyes
To power or fame we rudely press.—
Christ suffers in our strife.
And though heaven gate long since have clos'd, And our dear Lord in bliss repos'd
f St. Matthew xxv. 44.
High above mortal ken,
To every ear in every land
(Though meek ears only understand)
He speaks as He did then.
"Ah wherefore persecute ye me?
""Tis hard, ye so in love should be
"With your own endless woe.
"Know, though at God's right hand I live, "I feel each wound ye reckless give "To the least saint below.
"I in your care my brethren left, "Not willing ye should be bereft "Of waiting on your Lord.
"The meanest offering ye can make— "A drop of water-for love's sake,
"In Heaven, be sure, is stor❜d.”
O by those gentle tones and dear,
3 St. Matthew x. 42.
Ne'er let us cast one look behind,
But in the thought of Jesus find
What every thought controuls.
As to thy last Apostle's heart
So teach us on thy shrine to lay
And as each mild and winning note
(Like pulses that round harp-strings float, When the full strain is o'er)
Left lingering on his inward ear
Music, that taught, as death drew near,
Love's lesson more and more:
So, as we walk our earthly round,
Still may the echo of that sound
Be in our memory stor❜d:
"Christians! behold your happy state: "Christ is in these, who round you wait;
"Make much of your dear Lord!"
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
St. Matthew v. 3.
BLESS'D are the pure in heart,
For they shall see our God, The secret of the Lord is theirs,
Their soul is Christ's abode.
Might mortal thought presume
guess an angel's lay,
Such are the notes that echo through
The courts of Heaven to-day.
Such the triumphal hymns On Sion's Prince that wait, In high procession passing on Towards His temple-gate.