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Give ear, ye kings-bow down,

Ye rulers of the earth

This, this is He; your Priest by grace,
Your God and King by birth.

No pomp of earthly guards
Attends with sword and spear,

And all-defying, dauntless look, some wit

Their monarch's way to clear:

Yet are there more with him Than all that are with you— The armies of the highest Heaven, All righteous, good, and true.

Spotless their robes and pure,
Dipp'd in the sea of light,

That hides the unapproached shrine

From men's and angels' sight.

His throne, thy bosom blest,

O Mother undefil'd

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That throne, if ought beneath the skies,

Beseems the sinless child.

Lost in high thoughts," whose son "The wondrous Babe might prove," Her guileless husband walks beside, Bearing the hallow'd dove;

Meet emblem of His vow,
Who, on this happy day,

His dove-like soul-best sacrifice

Did on God's altar lay.

But who is he, by years

Bow'd, but erect in heart,

Whose prayers are struggling with his tears?

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Thy saving health, O Lord : ""Tis time that I depart in peace, "According to thy word."

Yet swells the pomp: one more

Comes forth to bless her God:

Full fourscore years, meek widow, she

Her heaven-ward way hath trod.

She who to earthly joys

So long had given farewell,

Now sees, unlook'd for, Heaven on earth,

Christ in His Israel.

Wide open from that hour

The temple-gates are set,

And still the saints rejoicing there
The holy Child have met.

Now count his train to-day,

And who may meet him, learn: Him child-like sires, meek maidens find, Where pride can nought discern.

Still to the lowly soul

He doth himself impart,

And for His cradle and His throne

Chooseth the pure in heart.

ST. MATTHIAS' DAY...

Wherefore of these men, which have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us; beginning from the baptism of John, until that same day that he was taken up from us; must one be ordained to be a witness with us of his resurrection. Acts i. 21, 22.

WHO is God's chosen priest?

He, who on Christ stands waiting day and night,
Who trac'd His holy steps, nor ever ceas'd,
From Jordan banks to Bethphage height :

Who hath learn'd lowliness

From his Lord's cradle, patience from His cross; Whom poor men's eyes and hearts consent to bless; To whom, for Christ, the world is loss;

Who both in agony

Hath seen Him and in glory; and in both

Own'd Him divine, and yielded, nothing loth,

Body and soul, to live and die,

In witness of his Lord,

In humble following of his Saviour dear :

This is the man to wield th' unearthly sword,
Warring unharm'd with sin and fear.

But who can e'er suffice

What mortal-for this more than angels' task,
Winning or losing souls, Thy life-blood's price?
The gift were too divine to ask,

But Thou hast made it sure

By Thy dear promise to Thy Church and Bride, That Thou, on earth, would'st aye with her endure, Till earth to Heaven be purified.

Thou art her only spouse,

Whose arm supports her, on whose faithful breast

Her persecuted head she meekly bows,

Sure pledge of her eternal rest.

Thou, her unerring guide,

Stayest her fainting steps along the wild;

Thy mark is on the bowers of lust and pride,
That she may pass them undefil'd.

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