A Cyclopædia of Sacred Poetical Quotations Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries, Classified and Arranged, for Facility of Reference, Under Subject Headings; Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and Forming Altogether a Complete Book of Devotional Poetry. (part 3 of 4)

A Cyclopædia of Sacred Poetical Quotations Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries, Classified and Arranged, for Facility of Reference, Under Subject Headings; Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and Forming Altogether a Complete Book of Devotional Poetry. (part 3 of 4)

Sweet is the smile of home; the mutual look When hearts are of each other sure; Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, The haunt of all affections pure; Yet in the world even these abide, and we Above the world, our calling boast: Once gain the mountain-top, and thou art free; Till then, who rest, presume; who turn to look, are lost. Keble.

Yes, let the future smile or mourn, To us a glorious place is given, With the great church of the first-born, Whose names are registered in heaven.

Beyond the bounds of time’s expansion, Where change and sorrow cannot come, We’re journeying to the promised mansion, Made ready in our Father’s home.

Friends, kindred, loving and beloved, That wont on earth our lot to cheer, Thither are, one by one removed, And we shall find them settled there.

Enough! though sin, and pain, and death, This transitory world infest, They who attain to Abraham’s faith, Shall be with faithful Abraham blest. Hankinson.

Our God, to call us homeward, His only Son sent down; And now, still more to tempt our hearts, Has taken up our own. Thomas Ward.

How sweetly flowed the gospel’s sound, From lips of gentleness and grace, When listening thousands gathered round, And joy and reverence filled the place.

From heaven He came--of heaven He spoke, To heaven He led his followers’ way; Dark clouds of gloomy night He broke, Unveiling an immortal day.

“Come wanderers to my Father’s home, Come, all ye weary ones, and rest!” Yes, sacred Teacher.--we will come-- Obey thee, love thee, and be blest. Bowring.

Home of the Christian! when Messiah comes A scene of Heaven in miniature art thou, Where all is redolent of charms divine, Temper renewed, and souls of grave becalmed. Thy quiet precincts of a purer world Breathe to the heart of faith, and, when compared With what the worldling in his home enjoys.-- E’en like the vexing hum of some large street, Where all is haste and hurry, tramp and strife, In contrast with the unpolluted calm Of some cathedral, when a spirit’s hush Hath brooded--seems that worldlings’ noisy hour. R. Montgomery.

How sweet, bow consoling, when seasons of gloom Roll over the soul like the billowy spray, To view in the mansions of Heaven a home, Where sorrow and sighing shall vanish away. W. J. Brock.

And in our home above there is a friend, More tender, true, more loving and sincere, Who knows each want, and every help will lend Our souls, through this world’s misery to steer; In danger’s path is present, ever near, Allures to brighter worlds, hath cleared the way, Will wipe from every cheek the sinner’s tear, Deigns in our hearts to claim a peaceful sway, And leads us to our homes in realms of endless day. Stuart Farquharson.

HONESTY.

Let us walk honestly, as in the day.--Romans, xiii. 13.

Study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you;

That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing.--I. Thessalonians, iv. 11, 12.

Pray for us: for we trust we have a good conscience, in all things willing to live honestly.--Hebrews, xiii. 18.

Honesty! A name scarce echo to a sound--honesty! Attend the stately chambers of the great-- It dwells not there, nor in the trading world; Speaks it in councils? No, the sophist knows To laugh it thence. Havard.

I ask not for his lineage, I ask not for his name-- If manliness be in his heart, He noble birth may claim. I care not though of world’s wealth But slender be his part; If yes you answer, when I ask-- Hath he a true man’s heart?

I ask not from what land he came, Nor where his youth was nursed-- If pure the stream, it matters not The spot from whence it burst: The palace or the hovel, Where first his life began, I seek not of: but answer this-- Is he an honest man?

Nay, blush not now--what matters it Where first he drew his breath? A manger was the cradle-bed Of Him of Nazareth! Be nought, be any, every thing-- I care not what you be-- If yes you answer, when I ask-- Art thou pure, true, and free? R. Nicoll.

HONOUR.

Make a joyful noise unto God, all ye lands:

Sing forth the honour of his name: make his praise glorious.--Psalm lxvi. 1, 2.

I receive not honour from men.--John, v. 41.

Jesus answered, If I honour myself, my honour is nothing; it is my Father that honoureth me; of whom ye say, that he is your God.--John, viii. 54.

Render therefore to all their dues; tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honour to whom honour.--Romans, xiii. 7.

The voice of nature, yea, the voice of God Commands to honour those that gave us birth,-- Even her, from whose supporting bosom flowed By far the sweetest stream that flows on earth; Whose tongue of kindness never knew a dearth Of soothing words that could our griefs allay-- Even him who listened to our prattling mirth, Who early taught our infant lips to pray, And led our tottering steps to walk in wisdom’s way:

A parent is indeed a tender friend, And, if once lost, we never more shall find A bosom that so tremblingly can blend Its feelings with our own congenial mind; Our lips may speak their anguish to the wind That hurries heedlessly and wildly by-- Our hearts, to lonely agony consigned, May thirst without relief--for no reply Comes from their mouldering breasts, that in their graves lie.

And then we pause to think--alas! how late! Of deeds that wrung a parent’s heart with pain; And oh! could we but open death’s dark gate, And lead them back into the world again-- Oh! but once more to see their face!--’tis vain! Once more to hear their voice!--’tis sweetly driven Across our fancy, and expires,--and then We wish ourselves away--away to heaven, To weep upon their breast, and there to be forgiven. Knox.

Honour’s a sacred tie--the law of kings, The noble mind’s distinguishing perfection, That aids and strengthens virtue when it meets her, And imitates her actions where she is not. Addison.

Honour demands my song. Forget the ground My generous muse, and sit among the stars! There sing the soul that, conscious of her birth, Lives like a native of the vital world Amongst these dying clods, and bears her state Just to herself: how nobly she maintains Her character, superior to the flesh, She wields her passions like her limbs, and knows The brutal powers were born but to obey. Watts.

This deity, whose altars reek with blood, Though millions bend the prostituted knee Before the radiant shrine, though millions own His power vindictive just, and call him Honour, All cannot sanctify what public good What nature’s moral dictates disavow, And Heaven’s almighty mandate impious deems. Samuel Hayes.

Honour--in blood congealed to take a life, Which had been murder in the heat of strife! Honour--when its result we dare not tell! Honour--to plunge a fellow’s soul to hell! Honour--to stand to be a murderer’s mark, And hurl defiance e’en with life’s last spark; To dare that law which has for ages stood-- “He dies by man who sheds a brother’s blood!” Oh, in that moment when we all shall stand Waiting the judgment of the Almighty hand, Will then thy honour palliate the crime, And Heaven’s high monarch hear the plea of time? Stript of those robes which make it honour here, Before that throne the murder will appear, Disrobed of ornament the sin is there; The crime is Cain’s; why not his judgment share-- An outcast on the earth, and in the Heaven, O God! can crimes like these be e’er forgiven? Anon.

HOPE.

Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God.--Psalm cxlvi. 5.

The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him.--Lamentations, iii. 24.

It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.--Lamentations, iii. 26.

If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most miserable.--I. Corinthians, xv. 19.

Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil.--Hebrews, vi. 19.

Upon her arm a silver anchor lay, Whereon she leaned ever, as befel: And ever up to Heaven as she did pray, Her steadfast eyes were bent, not swerved otherway. Spenser.

Hope, eager hope, the assassin of our joy, All present blessings treading under foot, Is scarce a milder tyrant than despair. With no past toils content, still planning new, Hope turns us o’er to death alone for ease. Possession why more tasteless than pursuit? Why is a wish far dearer than a crown? That wish accomplished, why the grave of bliss? Because in the great future buried deep, Beyond our plans of empire and renown, Lies all that man with ardour should pursue; And He who made him, bent him to the right. Young.

Rich Hope of boundless bliss! Bliss, past man’s power to paint it; time’s to close! This Hope is earth’s most estimable prize: This is man’s portion while no more than man: Hope, of all passions, most befriends us here; Passions of prouder name befriend us less. Joy has her tears, and transport has her death; Hope, like a cordial, innocent, though strong, Man’s heart at once inspirits and serenes; Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys; ’Tis all our present state can safely bear, Health to the frame, and vigour to the mind! A joy attempered! A chastised delight! Like the fair summer evening, mild and sweet, ’Tis man’s full cup, his paradise below. Young.

Hope, with uplifted foot, set free from earth, Pants for the place of her ethereal birth; On steady wings, sails through the immense abyss, Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss, And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here, With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. Hope, as an anchor, firm and sure, holds fast The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. Cowper.

Reflected on the lake, I love To see the stars of evening glow; So tranquil in the heavens above, So restless in the wave below.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene, But earthly hope, how bright soe’er, Still flutters o’er this changeful scene, As false, as fleeting as ’tis fair. Bishop Heber.

Whose was that voice, that whispering sweet, Promised methought long days of bliss sincere; Soothing it stole on my deluded ear, Most like soft music that might sometimes cheat Thoughts dark and drooping! ’twas the voice of hope. Of love and social scenes it seem’d to speak: Of truth, of friendship, of affection meek; That hand in hand along life’s downward slope, Might walk with peace and cheer the tranquil hours: Ah me! the prospect sadden’d as she sung, Loud on my startled ear the death-bell rung: Chill darkness wrapt the pleasurable bowers She built, while pointing to yon breathless clay, She cried, “No peace be thine, away, away!” W. L. Bowles.

Daughter of faith, awake, arise, illume The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb; Melt and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul! Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay, Chased on his night-steed by the star of day! The strife is o’er--the pangs of nature close, And life’s last rapture triumph’s o’er her woes. Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of heaven undazzled by the blaze, On heavenly winds, that waft her to the sky, Float the sweet tones of star-born melody; Wild as that hallow’d anthem sent to hail Bethlehem’s shepherds in the lonely vale, When Jordan hush’d his waves, and midnight still Watched on the holy towers of Zion hill! Soul of the just! companion of the dead! Where is thy home, and whither art thou fled? Back to its heavenly source thy being goes, Swift as the comet wheels to whence he rose; Doom’d on his airy path awhile to burn, And doom’d, like thee, to travel and return. Campbell.

A Heaven as bright, as blue, as mild, as calm, As thine own eye; the sun hath passed away, But left his mantle of transparent light To deck the gorgeous west, amid whose bright And purple depths I see a floating speck Of purest white, and now ’tis fixed, and now Swells into clearest beauty--’tis a star, Whose trembling orb seems shrinking from the light, Like a rebuked seraph’s eye, when drooped ’Neath the chastising glance; a bright ray shoots Up from its centre; gradual the star Severs before that ray, it parts--it spreads-- And from its heart comes forth a gliding form, Surpassing all my mortal thought of beauty:--

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’Tis Hope! the enduring angel he has deigned To send upon the earth, that she may be Your comforter, that when despair comes down Upon your spirit, ye may flee to her, And in her cradling arms of safest rest Lay down your wearied heads upon her heart, Till your own souls have caught the light of hers; ’Tis she, whose fervent voice, and star-like eye, Shall string you to your toil of wrestling with The care of being; blessed be the name Of Him, whose mercy hath thus given ye A beacon to your path! Constantia Louisa Reddell.

All hope on earth for ever fled, A higher hope remaineth; For while His wrath is o’er me shed, I know my Saviour reigneth. The worm may waste the withering clay, When flesh and spirit sever; My soul shall see eternal day, And dwell with God for ever! T. Dale.

She lights our gloom, she soothes our care, She bids our fears depart, Transmutes to gems each grief-fraught tear, And binds the broken heart!

She glances o’er us from above, The brightest star that’s given, And guides us still, through faith and love, To endless peace, in Heaven. Anna Peyre Dinnies.

The night is mother of the day, The winter of the spring, And ever, upon old decay, The greenest mosses cling. Behind the cloud the star-light lurks, Through showers the sunbeams fall; For God, who loveth all His works, Hath left His Hope with all. J. G. Whittier.

The world may change from old to new, From new to old again; Yet Hope and Heaven, for ever true, Within man’s heart remain.

The dreams that bless the weary soul, The struggles of the strong, Are steps towards some happy goal, The story of Hope’s song. Sarah Flowers Adams.

HOUSE.

I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.--Psalm cxxii. 1.

Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it.--Psalm cxxvii. 1.

It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.--Ecclesiastes, vii. 2.

Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.--John, xiv. 1, 2.

It is the Sabbath bell, which calls to pray’r, Ev’n to the house of God, the hallow’d dome, Where He who claims it bids His people come To bow before His throne, and serve him there With pray’rs, and thanks, and praises: some there are Who bold it meet to linger now at home, And some o’er fields and the wide hills to roam, And worship in the temple of the air! For me, not heedless of the lone address, Nor slack to greet my maker on the height, By wood, or living stream; yet not the less Seek I His presence in each social rite Of His own temple: that He deigns to bless, There still He dwells, and there is His delight. Bishop Mant.

If in the family thou art the best, Pray oft, and be the mouth unto the rest; Whom God hath made the heads of families, He hath made priests to offer sacrifice. Daily let part of Holy Writ be read, Let as the body, so the soul have bread; For look, how many souls in thy house be, With just as many souls God trusteth thee. Anonymous. (1600.)

If to the house of God below Thou go’st with faith and holy love; Thy soul, released, may hope to go And dwell in God’s own house above. Egone.

HUMILITY.

The fear of the Lord is the instruction of wisdom: and before honour is humility.--Proverbs, xv. 33.

Better is it to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud.--Proverbs, xvi. 19.

By humility, and the fear of the Lord, are riches, and honour, and life.--Proverbs, xxii. 4.

A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit.--Proverbs, xxix. 23.

Whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased: and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.--Matthew, xxiii. 12.

All of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.--I. Peter, v. 5.

He that high growth on cedars did bestow, Gave also lowly mushrooms leave to grow. In Haman’s pomp poor Mardocheous wept, Yet God did turn his fate upon his foe: The Lazar pined while Dives’ feast was kept, Yet he to Heaven, to hell did Dives go. We trample grass, and prize the flowers of May, Yet grass is green when flowers do fade away. Robert Southwell.

Humble we must be, if to Heaven we go; High is the roof there, but the gate is low: Whene’er thou speak’st look with a lowly eye-- Grace is increased by humility. Robert Herrick.

He that is down need fear no fall; He that is low, no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. Bunyan.

Humility is the softening shadow before the statue of excellence, And lieth lowly on the ground beloved and lovely as the violet: Humility is the fair-haired maid that calleth worth her brother, The gentle, silent nurse, that fostereth infant virtues: As when the blind man is nigh unto a rose its sweetness is herald of its beauty, So, when thou savourest humility, be sure thou art nigh unto merit. Tupper.

When Mary chose the “better part,” She meekly sat at Jesus’ feet! And Lydia’s gently-opened heart, Was made for God’s own temple meet: Fairest and best adorned is she, Whose clothing is humility.

The saint that wears heaven’s brightest crown, In deepest adoration bends; The weight of glory bows him down, Then most, when most the soul ascends: Nearest the throne itself must be The footstool of humility. James Montgomery.

Pride, with haughty port, defies in vain The force of rough adversity, which rends With double violence the stubborn heart. But, like a tender plant, Humility Bends low before the threat’ning blast unhurt, Eludes its rage, and lives through all the storm. Pride is the livery of the prince of darkness, Worn by his slaves, who glory in their shame; A gaudy dress, but tarnish’d, rent and foul, And loathsome to the holy eye of heaven. But sweet humility, a shining robe, Bestowed by heaven upon its favourite sons; The robe which God approves and angels wear-- Fair semblance of the glorious Prince of Light, Who stoop’d to dwell (divine humility!) With sinful worms, and poverty, and scorn. Pride leads her wretched votaries to contempt, To certain ruin, infamy, and death. But sweet humility points out the way To happiness, and life, and lasting honours. Humility how glorious! how divine! Thus clothed, and thus enrich’d, O may I shine; Be mine this treasure, this celestial robe, And let the sons of pride possess the globe. Mrs. Steele.

HYMN.

And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives.--Matthew, xxvi. 30.

Whose business was to serve their Lord, High up in heav’n with songs to hymn His throne.

* * * * *

They touched their golden harps, and hymning praised God and His works. Milton.

Then, kneeling down, to Heaven’s Eternal King The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope “springs exulting on triumphant wing,” That thus they all shall meet in future days: There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear; Together hymning their Creator’s praise, In such society yet still more dear, When circling time moves round, in an eternal sphere. Burns.

They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim: Perhaps “Dundee’s” wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive “Martyrs,” worthy of the name; Or noble “Elgin” feeds the heav’n-ward flame, The sweetest far of Scotia’s holy lays: Compared with these, Italian trills are tame; The tickl’d ear no heart-felt raptures raise; Nae unison hae they with our Creator’s praise. Burns.

There is no gloom on earth, for God above Chastens in love; Transmuting sorrow into golden joy, Free from alloy. His dearest attribute is still to bless, And man’s most welcome hymn is grateful cheerfulness. Horace Smith.

Celestial voices Hymn it unto our souls. R. H. Dana.

HYPOCRISY.

The hypocrite’s hope shall perish.--Job, viii. 13.

The triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of the hypocrite but for a moment.--Job, xx. 5.

For the vile person will speak villany, and his heart will work iniquity, to practise hypocrisy, and to utter error against the Lord.--Isaiah, xxxii. 6.

When thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men.

When thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are; for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.--Matthew, vi. 2, 5.

So smooth he daubed his life with show of virtue, He lived from all attainder of suspect. Shakspere.

Hypocrisy, detest her as we may, (And no man’s hatred ever wronged her yet) May claim this merit still, that she admits The worth of what she mimics with such care, And thus gives virtue indirect applause. Cowper.

Great day of revelation! in the grave The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood In naked ugliness. He was a man Who stole the livery of the court of heaven To serve the devil in; in virtue’s guise, Devoured the widow’s house and orphan’s bread; In holy phrase, transacted villanies That common sinners durst not meddle with; At sacred feast, he sat among the saints, And with his guilty hands touched holiest things; And none of sin lamented more, or sighed More deeply, or with graver countenance, Or longer prayer, wept o’er the dying man Whose infant children, at the moment, he Planned how to rob. Seest thou the man, A serpent with an angel’s voice! a grave With flowers bestrewed! Pollok.

I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl, The secret mischiefs that I set abroach, I lay unto the grievous charge of others. But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture Tell them--that God bids us do good for evil. And thus I clothe my naked villany, With old, odd ends, stol’n forth of Holy Writ. Shakspere.

Wo to ye Hypocrites! ye insincere, Who shut the gates of heaven against mankind, And yet yourselves will never enter there-- Wo to ye Hypocrites! your hearts are blind; The houses of the widow ye devour, And make long prayers, devotion ill-designed. The matters of the Law of gravest power-- Omit ye;--Judgment--Mercy--Faith! and dole The petty tithe of your external dower: Not those omit,--nor these; but pay the whole! As righteous men ye do without appear, Within iniquity usurps the soul: Ye are e’en like a whited Sepulchre, Beautiful outward, hiding dead men’s bones; Uncleanness and corruption, everywhere. J. A. Heraud.

Like the detested tribe Of ancient Pharisees, beneath the mask Of clamorous piety, what numbers veil Contaminated, vicious hearts! How many In the devoted temple of their God, With hypocritic eye, from which the tear Of penitential anguish seems to flow, Pour forth their vows, and by affected zeal Pre-eminent devotion boast; while vice Within the guilty breast, rankles unseen. Samuel Hayes.

These are they That prey upon the widow, and devour The orphan’s portion, mocking Heaven with prayers Ceaseless, and fasts, which will but more incense His anger, and bring down worse chastisement. Charles Peers.

IDOLATRY.

Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.--I. Samuel, xv. 23.

What agreement hath the temple of God with idols?--II. Corinthians, vi. 16.

Covetousness, which is idolatry.--Colossians, iii. 5.

The sparkling flames, that burn in beaten gold, And, like the stars of heav’n in midst of night, Black Egypt, as her mirrors doth behold; Are but the dens where idol snakes delight Again to cover Satan from their sight: Yet these are all their gods; with whom they vie, The crocodile, the cock, the rat, the fly: Fit gods indeed, for such men to be served by. Giles Fletcher.

Hear, Father! hear and aid! If I have loved too well, if I have shed, In my vain fondness, o’er a mortal head Gifts, on Thy shrine, my God, more fitly laid; If I have sought to live But in one light, and made a mortal eye The lonely star of my idolatry, Thou that art Love, oh! pity and forgive! Mrs. Hemans.

City of idol-temples, and of shrines Where folly kneels to falsehood--how the pride Of our humanity is here rebuked! Man, that aspires to rule the very wind, And make the sea confess his majesty; Whose intellect can fill a little scroll With words that are immortal: who can build Cities, the mighty and the beautiful: Yet man,--this glorious creature,--can debase His spirit down, to worship wood and stone, And hold the very beasts which bear his yoke, And tremble at his eye, for sacred things. With what unutterable humility We should bow down, thou blessed Cross, to thee, Seeing our vanity and foolishness, When, to our own devices left, we frame A shameful creed of craft and cruelty. L. E. L.

If, when the Lord of Glory was in sight, Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear, To bow before the “little drop of light” Which dim-eyed men call praise and glory here: What dost thou, but adore the sun, and scorn Him at whose only word both sun and stars were born?

If while around the gales from Eden breathe, Thou hide thine eyes, to make thy peevish moan Over some broken reed of earth beneath, Some darling of blind fancy, dead and gone, As wisely might’st thou in Jehovah’s fane Offer thy love and tears to Thammuz slain.

Turn thee from these, or dare not to inquire Of Him whose name is Jealous, lest in wrath, He hear and answer thine unblest desire: Far better we should cross His lightning’s path, Than be according to our idols heard, And God should take us at our vain word. Keble.

Before the idol-monster was the blood Of man poured out by man. No mother there Blessed the fair skies which smiled upon her babe, But hastened rather, with unnatural hand, To crush the unfolding life, and turn aside The dark inheritance of woe and pain, Ere yet the unconscious victim owned its doom. A. Alexander.

And still from Him we turn away, And fill our hearts with worthless things; The fires of avarice melt the clay, And forth the idol springs! Ambition’s flame, and passion’s heat, By wondrous alchemy transmute Earth’s dross, to raise some gilded brute To fill Jehovah’s seat. J. H. Clinch.

Idol-worshippers are we, Bowing evermore heart and knee Unto stone and unto stock; Thus the living God we mock. Who shall say his heart is free From this foul idolatry? Egone.

IMAGE.

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.--Genesis, i. 27.

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth:

Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God.--Exodus, xx. 4, 5.

As we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.--I. Corinthians, xv. 49.

For what had all this all, which man in one, Did not unite; the earth, air, water, fire, Life, sense, and spirit; nay, the pow’rful throne Of the Divinest Essence did retire; And his own Image into clay inspire; So that this creature well might called be, Of the great world the small epitome; Of the dead world, the life, and small anatome. Giles Fletcher.

Thou man Thy image mad’st, in dignity, In knowledge and in beauty like to Thee; Placed in a heaven on earth; without his toil, The ever flourishing and fruitful soil Unpurchased food produced; all creatures were His subjects, serving more for love than fear. Sandys.

He made us to His image all agree; That image is the soul, and that must be, Or not the Maker’s image, or be free. Dryden.

Outcasts of mortal race! can we conceive Image of aught delightful, soft, or great. Prior.

Poor man! How happy once in thy first state! When yet but warm from thy great Maker’s hand, He stamped thee with His image, and well pleased, Smiled on his last fair work! Blair.

God spake: He look’d on earth and heaven With mild and generous eye; In his own image man he made, And gave him dignity. Krummacher.

IMMORTALITY.

To them who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life.--Romans, ii. 7.

This corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.--I. Corinthians, xv. 53.

Our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.--II. Timothy, i. 10.

Immortal honour, endless fame Attend the Almighty Father’s name. Dryden.

Thy nature, immortality! who knows? And yet who knows it not? It is but life In stronger thread of brighter colour spun, And spun for ever, dipt by cruel fate In Stygian die, how black, how brittle here! How short our correspondence with the sun! And while it lasts, Inglorious! Our best deeds, How wanting in their weight! our highest joys, Small cordials to support us in our pain, And give us strength to suffer. But how great To mingle interests, converse, amities, With all the sons of reason, scatter’d wide Through habitable space, wherever born, Howe’er endowed! To live free citizens Of universal nature! To lay hold By more than feeble faith on the Supreme! To call heaven’s rich unfathomable mines (Mines, which support archangels in their state,) Our own! To rise in science as in bliss, Initiate in the secrets of the skies! To read creation; read its mighty plan In the bare bosom of the Deity! The plan, and execution, to collate! To see, before each glance of piercing thought, All cloud, all shadow blown remote; and leave No mystery--but that of love divine, Which lifts us on the Seraph’s flaming wing, From earth’s aceldama, this field of blood, Of inward anguish, and of outward ill, From darkness, and from dust, to such a scene! Love’s element! True joy’s illustrious house! From earth’s sad contrast (now deplor’d) more fair! What exquisite vicissitude of fate! Blest absolution of our blackest hour! Young.

Man’s soul immortal is; whilst here they live, The purest minds for perfect knowledge strive; Which is the knowledge of that glorious God, From whom all life proceeds: in this abode Of flesh, the soul can never reach so high, So reason tells us. If the soul then die, When from the body’s bonds she takes her flight, Her unfulfilled desire is frustrate quite, And so bestowed in vain! It follows then, The best desires, unto the best of men, The Great Creator did in vain dispense, Or else the soul must live when gone from hence, And if it live after the body fall, What reason proves that it must die at all? Thomas May.

Strong as the death it masters, is the hope That onward looks to immortality: Let the frame perish, so the soul survive, Pure, spiritual, and loving. I believe The grave exalts, not separates, the ties That hold us in affection to our kind. I will look down from yonder pitying sky, Watching and waiting those I loved on earth; Anxious in heaven, until they, too, are there. I will attend your guardian angel’s side And weep away your faults with holy tears: Your midnight shall be filled with solemn thought; And when, at length, death brings you to my love, Mine the first welcome heard in Paradise. Anon.

The sun is but a spark of fire,-- A transient meteor in the sky: The soul, immortal as its Sire, Shall never die! J. Montgomery.

Prisoners of hope! heirs of eternity! Waiting for the consummate day, when time Shall be no more--Why on the past dwell ye? Prisoners of hope! look to the goal sublime Of the expanded future, and behold The flesh redeemed to its immortal prime. J. A. Heraud.

Yet know, vain sceptics, know the Almighty mind, Who breathed on man a portion of His fire, Bade his free soul, by earth nor time confined, To Heaven, to immortality aspire.

Nor shall the pile of hope His mercy reared, By vain philosophy be e’er destroyed: Eternity, by all or wished or feared, Shall be, by all, or suffered, or enjoyed. William Mason.

Whoe’er thou art, this truth take home,--and think Two spirits only for thy soul contend,-- The good and bad; but now alone is grace Imparted; soon thy final sands will fall, And thou in moral nakedness shalt be To Devil or to Deity assign’d Through endless ages!--Oh, that truth immense, This mortal, immortality shall wear! The pulse of mind can never cease to play; By God awaken’d, it for ever throbs, Eternal as His own eternity! Above the angels, or below the fiends: To mount in glory, or in shame descend-- Mankind are destined by resistless doom. R. Montgomery.

Beyond the purple verge of infinite space, The immortal soul of man shall live again; Live where its glories never more may wane, And where its nobler memories will efface All thoughts which rend the solemn’ pall away That shrouds the meanness of its primal clay. H. B. Hirst.

INSPIRATION.

There is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding.--Job, xxxii. 8.

All scripture is given by inspiration of God.--II. Timothy, iii. 16.

O Thou bless’d Spirit: whether the Supreme Great ante-mundane Father; in whose breast Embryo creation, unborn being, dwelt, And all its various revolutions rolled, Present though future; prior to themselves Whose breath can blow it into naught again, Or from His throne some delegated power, Who studious of our peace, dost turn the thought From vain and vile to solid and sublime! Unseen Thou lead’st me to delicious draughts Of Inspiration, from a purer stream, And fuller of the God, than that which burst From famed Castalia. Young.

We to his high inspiration owe That what was done before the flood we know. Denham.

How precious is the book divine By inspiration given! Bright as a lamp its doctrines shine To guide our souls to heaven.

It sweetly cheers our drooping hearts In this dark vale of tears; Life, light, and joy it still imparts, And quells our rising fears.

This lamp through all the tedious night Of life shall guide our way, Till we behold the clearer light Of an eternal day. Fawcett.

On the page of inspiration Lo! the promise of salvation; May I earnestly inquire, May the Lord my soul inspire With the love of truth divine, So to make that promise mine. Egone.

INSTRUCTION.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction.

My son, hear the instruction of thy father.--Proverbs, i. 7, 8.

Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not.--Proverbs, viii. 33.

He that refuseth instruction despiseth his own soul.--Proverbs, xv. 32.

And chiefly Thou, O Spirit that dost prefer Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou knowest: Thou from the first Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad’st it pregnant. What in me is dark, Illumine; what is low, raise and support; That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men. Milton.

From heaven descend the drops of dew, From heaven the gracious showers, Earth’s winter aspect to renew, And clothe the spring with flowers; From heaven the beams of morning flow, That melt the gloom of night, From heaven the evening breezes blow Health, fragrance, and delight.

Like genial dew, like fertile showers, The words of wisdom fall, Awaken man’s unconscious powers, Strength out of weakness call; Like morning beams they strike the mind, In loveliness reveal; And softer than the evening wind, The wounded spirit heal.

As dew and rain, as light and air, From heaven Instruction came, The waste of nature to repair, And kindle sacred flame, A flame to purify the earth, Exalt her sons on high, And train them for their second birth-- Their birth beyond the sky. J. Montgomery.

INTERCESSION.

He bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.--Isaiah, liii. 12.

It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.--Romans, viii. 34.

Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.--Hebrews, vii. 25.

Why gaze the clustered stars on Hermon’s height? Immensity around--why gaze they there? On its high top, as farthest up from earth, Enshrined in darkness and alone, there kneels The world’s great Intercessor. Evening came, And found Him kneeling there: the rising morn Lingered awhile upon His upturned brow; And night passed over Him, and still he kneels; Till all the air is incense and a prayer, As He would save the world by prayer alone, Close clasping the eternal throne,--His voice, Unheard below, was heard in heaven intent. Anon.

With blood--but not his own--the Jew drew near The mercy-seat, and heaven received his prayer. Yet still his hope was dimmed by doubt and fear: “If Thou should’st mark transgression, who might dare To stand before Thee?” Mercy loves to spare And pardon, but stern Justice has a voice, And cries--Our God is holy, nor can bear Uncleanness in the people of His choice. But now One Offering, ne’er to be renewed, Hath made our peace for ever. This now gives Free access to the Throne of Heavenly Grace, No more base fear and dark disquietude, He who was slain--the Accepted Victim!--lives, And intercedes before the Father’s face. Conder.

Lord! there is a throne of grace; There we now would seek Thy face; Thou wilt bear the humblest prayer Of the soul that seeks Thee there. Saviour, for us intercede, While the promises we plead! Cobbin.

ISRAEL.

And he said unto him, What is thy name? And he said, Jacob.

And he said, Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel: for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed.--Genesis, xxxii. 27, 28.

Truly God is good to Israel.--Psalm lxxiii. 1.

He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.--Psalm cxxi. 4.

For the Lord will have mercy on Jacob, and will yet choose Israel, and set them in their own land.--Isaiah, xiv. 1.

Whilst Pharoah’s pride withstood, His pools turned poison, and his Nile ran blood, From whose corrupting channel, moist and warm, Leaped forth the frogs, a foul, offensive swarm; No place was sheltered from their loathsome tread, The festive banquet, nor the bridal bed. Anon, destructive sweeps the burning hail, His trees stand branchless, and his furrows fail; Whilst from the East, devouring locusts rise, To spoil the pittance spared him by the skies. But why on each particular token dwell Of God’s deep wrath, or all His judgments tell? Enough to add, that Israel’s thraldom ceased, From Pharaoh’s stubborn hand, by him released. William Gibson.

Backsliding Israel, hear the voice Of thy forgiving God; Nor force such goodness to exert The terrors of the rod.

Thus saith the Lord--“My mercy flows, An unexhausted stream; And after all its millions saved, Its sway is still supreme.”

Own but the follies thou hast done, And mourn thy sins in dust, And soon thy trembling heart shall learn To hope, and love, and trust. Doddridge.

The day of Freedom dawns; rise, Israel, from thy tomb. Croly.

JEHOVAH.

And God spake unto Moses, and said unto him, I am the Lord:

And I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty, but by my name JEHOVAH was I known to them.--Exodus, vi. 2, 3.

That men may know that thou, whose name is JEHOVAH, art the most high over all the earth.--Psalm lxxxiii. 18.

Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord JEHOVAH is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.--Isaiah, xii. 2.

Tell mankind Jehovah reigns; He shall bind the world in chains, So as it shall never slide, And with sacred justice guide. Let the smiling heavens rejoice, Joyful earth exalt her voice: Let the dancing billows roar, Echoes answer from the shore, Fields their flowery mantles shake, All shall in their joy partake; While the wood-musicians sing To the ever-youthful spring, Fill His courts with sacred mirth. He, He comes to judge the earth. Justly He the world shall sway, And His truth to men display. Dr. Henry More.

Before Jehovah’s awful throne, Ye nations bow with sacred joy; Know that the Lord is God alone, He can create, and He destroy.

His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men; And when like wand’ring sheep we stray’d, He brought us to His fold again.

We’ll crowd His gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise, And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall find thy courts with sounding praise. Watts.

Ascribe, ye mighty, to Jehovah might And glory, victor o’er his enemies-- Give to Jehovah glory in the height, The glory due unto His name! Adore Him in the beauty of Holiness aright!

Thy voice, Jehovah! on the waters hoar Careers; the God of glory thundereth; Jehovah speaks where many waters roar-- Thy voice, Jehovah! is more strong than death-- Thy powerful voice is full of majesty; Thy voice o’erthrows the cedar with its breath. And Lebanon and Sirion before Thee Skip like a calf, and like a unicorn, In youth transcilient, and by nature free,-- Thy voice Jehovah! shakes the desert lorn; Jehovah shakes the wilderness; His voice Maketh the hinds to calve, the forest-born.

Within His temple shall His sons rejoice, And all declare His glory. On the sea He sitteth--hushed is its tempestuous noise-- Behold Jehovah sitteth royally Upon the calmed flood, eternal Lord: And strength unto His people giveth He, And them with peace and blessing hath restored. J. A. Heraud.

The name of Jehovah defend thee! For He from His dwelling above, Shall hear thee in trouble, and send thee The might of His covenant love. His rod of dread powers Shall bind with sweet flowers, In the ark of His covenant love.

Then kneel; for the prayer of the lowly As incense, all odour shall be, In the cloud of the holocaust holy, That pleads in His presence for thee. His word, like strong mountains, Still shed forth the fountains Of strength from His presence for thee. Waring.

JERUSALEM.

Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact together.--Psalm cxxii. 3.

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!

Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.--Matthew, xxiii. 37, 38.

Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles, until the time of the Gentiles be fulfilled.--Luke, xxi. 24.

But ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels.--Hebrews, xii. 22.

Jerusalem, that place divine, The vision of sweet peace is named, In heaven her glorious turrets shine, Her walls of living stones are framed; While angels guard her on each side, Fit company for such a bride.

She, decked in new attire, from heaven, Her wedding-chamber, now descends, Prepared in marriage to be given To Christ, on whom her joy depends. Her walls wherewith she is enclosed, And streets are of pure gold composed.

The gates adorn’d with pearls most bright, The way to hidden glory show, And thither by the blessed might Of faith in Jesus’ merits go All those who are on earth distress’d, Because they have Christ’s name profess’d.

These stones the workmen dress and beat, Before they throughly polish’d are, Then each in his own proper seat, Established by the builder’s care, In this fair frame to stand for ever, So join’d, that them no power can sever. Drummond.

The signs are full, and never shall the sun Shine on the cedar roofs of Salem more: Her tale of splendour now is done; Her wine-cup of festivity is spilt, And all is o’er--her grandeur and her guilt. Oh, fair and favoured city, where of old, The balmy airs were rich with melody, That led her pomp beneath the cloudless sky In vestments flaming with the orient gold; Her gold is dim, and mute her music’s voice, The heathen o’er her perish’d pomp rejoice! How stately then was every palm-deck’d street Down which the maidens danced with tinkling feet! How proud the elders in the lofty gate! How crowded all her nation’s solemn feasts With white-robed Levites, and high-mitred priests; How gorgeous her temple’s sacred state! Her streets are razed, her maidens sold for slaves, Her gates thrown down, her elders in their graves; Her feasts are holden ’mid the Gentile’s scorn, By stealth her priesthood’s holy garments worn. Milman.

Jerusalem! alas! alas! of old, Deaf to whate’er prophetic seers foretold, Assailing all, whom Heaven, in mercy sent And murdering those that warned thee to repent! Thou, the world’s Saviour who suspendedst high, His works reviled, and mocked His agony, How oft hath God, still gracious, striven to bring Thy devious brood beneath His sheltering wing, To save thee from the hovering eagle’s power, And shield the unequalled misery of this hour! But no! thou would’st not! thence this signal fate! Thence art thou fallen! deserted! desolate! William Gibson.

Jerusalem! my happy home! Name ever dear to me; When shall my labours have an end In joy, and peace, and thee?

When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And pearly gates behold? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, And streets of shining gold? Dickson.

JESUS.

And thou shalt call his name JESUS; for he shall save his people from their sins.--Matthew, i. 21.

But we see JESUS, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour; that he by the grace of God should taste death for every man.--Hebrews, ii. 9.

Whosoever shall confess that JESUS is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God.--I. John, iv. 15.

To Thee, O Jesu, I direct my eyes, To Thee my hands, to Thee my humble knees; To Thee my heart shall offer sacrifice, To Thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees; To Thee myself, myself and all I give, To Thee I die, to Thee I only live. Sir Walter Raleigh.

Jesus, I love Thy charming name, ’Tis music in my ear; Fain would I sound it out so loud That earth and heaven should hear.

Yes, thou art precious to my soul, My transport and my trust; Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys, And gold is sordid dust.

All my capacious powers can wish, In Thee doth richly meet: Nor to mine eyes is light so dear, Nor friendship half so sweet,

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, And sheds its fragrance there; The noblest balm of all its wounds, The cordial of its care.

I’ll speak the honours of Thy name With my last labouring breath; Then, speechless, clasp Thee in my arms, The antidote of death. Doddridge.

O God, of good the unfathomed sea! Who would not give his heart to Thee? Who would not love Thee with his might? O Jesu, Lover of mankind! Who would not his whole soul and mind, With all his strength, to Thee unite;

Hell’s armies tremble at Thy nod, And, trembling, own th’ Almighty God, Sovereign of earth, hell, air, and sky: But who is this that comes from far, Whose garments roll’d in blood appear? ’Tis God made man, for man to die. Wesley.

Weary souls that wander wide, From the central point of bliss, Turn to Jesus crucified, Fly to those dear wounds of His, Sink into the purple flood--rise into the life of God. Wesley.

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun Does his successive journeys run; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, ’Till moons shall wax and wane no more. Watts.

Jesus, in Thy transporting name What blissful glories rise! Jesus the angels’ sweetest theme! The wonder of the skies!

Well might the skies with wonder view A love so strange as thine, No thought of angels ever knew Compassion so divine. Steele.

We know that “He will save us” Lord, If we on Him depend, Jesus, the true and living word, The sinner’s only friend. May He be ours, in life and death, Jesus enthroned above, And may we with our latest breath Adore redeeming love! J. Burbidge.

JEWS.

The Lord shall establish thee an holy people unto himself, as He hath sworn unto thee, if thou shalt keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, and walk in His ways.

And all people of the earth shall see that thou art called by the name of the Lord; and they shall be afraid of thee.

But it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to observe to do all his commandments and his statutes, * * * thou shalt become an astonishment, a proverb and a bye-word, among all nations whither the Lord shall lead thee.--Deuteronomy, xxviii. 9, 10, 15, 37.

Salvation is of the Jews.--John, iv. 22.

He is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh;

But he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter, whose praise is not of men but of God.--Romans, ii. 28, 29.

What advantage then hath the Jew, or what profit is there in circumcision? Much every way: chiefly, because that unto them were committed the oracles of God.--Romans, iii. 1, 2.

They, and they only, amongst all mankind, Received the transcript of the Eternal Mind; Were trusted with His own engraven laws, And constituted guardians of His cause; Theirs were the prophets, theirs the priestly call, And theirs, by birth, the Saviour of us all. Cowper.

Thrice happy nation! Favourite of Heaven! Selected from the kingdoms of the earth To be His chosen race, ordained to spread His glory through remotest realms, and teach The Gentile world Jehovah’s awful name. William Hodson.

That people once So famed, whom God Himself vouchsafed to call His chosen race, and with a guardian hand Deigned to protect, from Palestine exiled, Are doomed to wander; although scattered thus Through all the globe, there is no clime which they Can call their own, no country where their laws Hold sovereign rule. Irrefragable proof, That every oracle of Holy Writ Was given by Heaven itself! Samuel Hayes.

JORDAN.

And Lot lifted up his eyes and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered every where.--Genesis, xiii. 10.

If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with horses? and if in the land of peace wherein thou trustedst, they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan.--Jeremiah, xii. 5.

Then went out to him Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region round about Jordan.

And were baptized of him in Jordan confessing their sins.--Matthew, iii. 5, 6.

The waters slept. Night’s silvery veil hung low On Jordan’s bosom, and the eddies curled Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, Unbroken beatings of the sleeper’s pulse. The reeds bent down the stream: the willow leaves, With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, Forgot the lifting winds; and the long stems, Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way And leaned in graceful attitudes, to rest. How strikingly the course of nature tells By its light heed of human suffering That it was fashioned for a happier world. N. P. Willis.

Christian, behold the typic shade Of that dim path prepared for thee-- Behold, in Jordan’s tide displayed, Death’s overflowing sea. But if thou still hast kept the Ark Of God before thee as a mark, Fear not the troubled waters dark, Howe’er they rage, and chafe, and roar; On that mysterious voyage embark, And God will guide thee o’er. J. H. Clinch.

When I tread the banks of Jordan May my soul no tremblings know; Be my Saviour near to guide me, And uphold me as I go Through the waters, Fearing not their overflow. Egone.

JOY.

Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.--Psalm xvi. 11.

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.--Psalm xxx. 5.

And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.--John, xvi. 22.

What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy. Pope.

A Deity believed, is joy begun; A Deity adored, is joy advanced; A Deity beloved, is joy matured. Each branch of piety delight inspires. Young.

Words of eternal truth proclaim All mortal joys are vain; A diamond pen engraves the theme Upon a mortal pane. Watts.

When on some balmy-breathing night of spring The happy child to whom the world is new, Pursues the evening moth of mealy wing, Or from the heath-bell shakes the sparkling dew, He sees before his inexperienced eyes, The brilliant glow-worm like a meteor shine On the turf-bank, surprised, and pleased, he cries “Star of the dewy grass! I make thee mine.” Then, ere he sleeps, collects the moistened flower, And bids soft leaves his glittering prize unfold, And dreams that fairy lamps illume his bower; But in the morning shudders to behold His shining treasure viewless as the dust; So fade the world’s bright joys to cold and blank disgust. Charlotte Smith.

I see a forest, dark, dim, deep, and dread, Whose solemn shades no human foot or eye Can penetrate; but now, oh see! a veil Falls from my strengthened eyes; and now Even in its deepest centre I behold A spot more beautiful than human heart Can comprehend; it is the home of Joy, And there the blessed spirit broods for ever, Making her dwelling-place a heaven: there The skies are pure as crystal, and the eye Looks through their clear expanse direct to God. No sun is there; the air itself is light And life; a rainbow spans it like a crown Of tearless glory, and the forest trees Sweep round it in a belt of living green. Colour, that wayward sprite of changeful mien, Is here subdued to an intensity Of burning lustre. Sound has but one voice, And that joyous song; sight but one object, And that is happiness; mine eyes are strained To catch the lineaments of the bright queen, Whose dwelling-place I see; but ’tis in vain; Nowhere distinct, yet felt in all, she glides, A shape of light and colour through the air, Making its pure transparency to thrill With the soft music of her viewless step. C. L. Reddel.

Christ had His joys--but they were not The joys the son of pleasure boasts-- O, no! ’twas when His Spirit sought Thy will, Thy glory, God of hosts! Christ had His joys--and so hath he, Who feels His Spirit in his heart; Who yields, O God, his all to Thee, And loves Thy name, for what thou art! Anon.

Joy dwells not in external things, It hath an inner birth; The sweetest bird in darkness sings, And fairest flowers oft nurture stings,-- Such is our life on earth.

Then measure not by outward show The depth of real joy; The heart can o’er the darkest woe A stream of sunlight softly throw, Or purest bliss destroy. W. J. Brock.

JUDAH.

When Israel went out of Egypt, the house of Jacob from a people of strange language;

Judah was his sanctuary and Israel his dominion.--Psalm cxiv. 1, 2.

Judah shall dwell for ever, and Jerusalem from generation to generation.--Joel, iii. 20.

It is evident that our Lord sprang out of Judah.--Hebrews, vii. 14.

Judah! thou art he whom thy brethren shall praise, Thy hand shall be on the neck of thine enemies: Thy father’s children shall bow down before thee. Judah is a lion’s whelp! From the prey, my son, thou art gone up: He stooped down, he crouched as a lion, And as an old lion; who shall rouse him up? The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, Nor a lawgiver from between his feet, Until Shiloh come, And unto him shall the gathering of the people be. Jacob’s Benediction of Judah, Genesis, xlix. 8, 9, 10. Dr. Caunter’s Metrical Arrangement.

O, Thou, the Shepherd of Thy flock, Who led’st Thy people through the wave, And gav’st them water from the rock, And bar’dst thine arm in might to save:-- Hear Thou the strain our hearts prolong-- List--list the suppliant captive’s cry-- O, when shall cease the mournful song, O, when shall Judah’s tears be dry? C. W. Everest.

For yet the tenfold film shall fall O, Judah, from thy sight, And every eye be purged to read Thy testimonies right, When thou, with all Messiah’s signs In Christ distinctly seen, Shall, by Jehovah’s nameless name, Invoke the Nazarene. William Crosswell.

JUDGE--JUDGMENT.

The Lord loveth judgment.--Psalm xxxvii. 28.

Hear my prayer, O Lord, give ear to my supplications.

And enter not into judgment with thy servant: for in thy sight shall no man living be justified.--Psalm cxliii. 1, 2.

Judge not, that ye be not judged.--Matthew, vii. 1.

We shall all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ.

Let us not therefore judge one another any more, but judge this rather, that no man put a stumbling-block, or an occasion to fall, in his brother’s way.--Romans, xiv. 10, 13.

He should be born grey-headed, that will bear The sword of empire: judgment of the life, Free state, and reputation of a man, If he be just and worthy, dwells so dark, That it denies access to sun and moon; The soul’s eye, sharpen’d with that sacred light Of whom the sun itself is but a beam, Must only give that judgment. O how much Err those kings then that play with life and death, And nothing put into their serious states But humour and their lusts! For which alone Men long for kingdoms, whose huge counterpoise In cares and dangers, could a fool comprise, He would not be a king, but would be wise. Chapman.

The day of Christ; the last, the dreadful day; When thou and I, and all the world, shall come Before His judgment-seat, to bear their doom For ever and for ever; and when they Who loved not God, far, far from Him away Shall go;--but whither banished? and with whom?-- And they who loved Him shall be welcomed home To God, and Christ, and Heaven, and Heaven’s array, Angels and saints made perfect--may the scene Of that dread day be always present here-- Here in my heart! That every day between, Which brings my passage to the goal more near, May find me fitter, by His love made clean, Before His throne of justice to appear. Bishop Mant.

Then, all Thy saints assembled, Thou shalt judge Bad men and angels; they, arraigned, shall sink Beneath Thy sentence: Hell, her numbers full, Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell, And after all their tribulations long, See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. Then Thou Thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, For regal sceptre thee no more shall need, God shall be All in All. Milton.

The world is grown old, and her pleasures are past; The world is grown old, and her form may not last; The world is grown old, and trembles for fear, For sorrows abound, and judgment is near!

The sun in the heaven is languid and pale; And feeble and few are the fruits of the vale; And the hearts of the nations fail them for fear, For the world is grown old, and judgment is near!

The king on his throne, the bride in her bower, The children of pleasure all feel the sad hour; The roses are faded, and tasteless the cheer; For the world is grown old, and judgment is near!

The world is grown old, but should we complain Who have tried her, and know that her promise is vain; Our heart is in heaven, our home is not here, And we look for our crown when judgment is near. Bishop Heber.

From Adam to his youngest heir, Not one shall ’scape that muster-roll; Each, as if he alone were there, Shall stand, and win, or lose his soul: These from the Judge’s presence, go Down into everlasting woe; Vengeance hath barred the gates of hell-- The scenes within no tongue can tell.

But lo! far off, the righteous pass To glory; from the king’s right hand, In silence, on the sea of glass, Heaven’s numbers without number stand, While He who bore the cross, lays down His priestly robe and victor crown; The mediatorial reign complete, All things are put beneath His feet. James Montgomery.

Time Hath functions awful and sublime, And on its viewless lapse are traced Stern chronicles of all the past, A writing every sunset laid, While heaven is still within the shade Of Christ’s high throne, one day to be A part of the solemnity And pomp of judgment, endless Woe, Or endless Weal! to some a show Of fiery ciphers, symbols dread, Of unchaste things unpardoned.

* * * * *

And some there are to whom that scroll Sad record still, may yet unroll A fairer vision, dark and bright, Like dawn o’er-mastering tardy night In dubious streaks, with here and there A firm and radiant character, To angels’ eyes not new, but known And recognised the Judge’s own. Frederic W. Faber.

The judgment! the judgment! the thrones are all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested Elders are met! All flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on His word!

O mercy! O mercy! look down from above, Creator! on us thy sad children, with love! When beneath, to their darkness, the wicked are driven, May our sanctified souls find a mansion in Heaven! H. H. Milman.

JUSTICE.

Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker.--Job, iv. 17.

Touching the Almighty, we cannot find him out: he is excellent in power, and in judgment and in plenty of justice.--Job, xxxvii. 23.

Justice and judgment are the habitation of Thy throne.--Psalm lxxxix. 14.

To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.--Proverbs, xxi. 3.

Whoso upon himself will take the skill True justice unto people to divide, Has need have mighty hands for to fulfil That which he doth with righteous doom decide, And for to maister wrong and puissant pride; For vain it is to deem of things aright, And make wrong doers justice to deride, Unless it be performed with dreadless might; For power is the right hand of justice truly hight. Spenser.

A just man cannot fear, Not, though the malice of traducing tongues, The open vastness of a tyrant’s ear, The senseless rigour of the wrested laws, Or the red eyes of strain’d authority, Should, in a point meet all to take his life, His innocence is armour ’gainst all these. Ben Jonson.

The words of Heaven, on whom it will, it will; On whom it will not, so; yet still ’tis just. Shakspere.

His life is parallel’d Even with the stroke and line of his great justice; He doth with holy abstinence subdue That in himself, which he spurs on his power To qualify in others; where he meal’d With that which he corrects, than where he tyrannous; But this being so, he’s just. Shakspere.

Heaven’s king Keeps register of every thing, And nothing may we use in vain; Ev’n beasts must be with justice slain. Marvell.

Well, then, my soul, joy in the midst of pain; Thy Christ, that conquered hell, shall from above With greater triumph yet return again And conquer His own justice with His love. Commanding earth and seas to render those Unto His bliss for whom he paid His woes. Wotton.

So sure the fall of greatness raised on crimes! So fixed the justice of all-conscious Heaven! When haughty guilt exalts with impious joy, Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy; Weak man, with erring rage, may throw the dart, But Heaven shall guide it to the guilty heart. Dr. Johnson.

Say, how can man be justified by God? Thy vaults eternity would echo. How? But from the cross, responding grace replies To this high question. Faith in Christ is life And Love and Righteousness. Completely fit To each vast claim of violated law. R. Montgomery.

The Sun of Justice may withdraw his beams Awhile from earthly ken, and sit concealed In dark recess pavilioned round with clouds: Yet let not guilt presumptuous rear her crest, Nor virtue droop despondent: soon these clouds, Seeming eclipse, will brighten into day, And in majestic splendour He will rise, With healing and with terror on His wings. George Bally.

Peace to the just man’s memory,--let it grow Greener with years, and blossom through the flight Of ages; let the mimic canvas show His calm benevolent features; let the light Stream on his deeds of love, that shunned the sight Of all but heaven, and, in the book of fame, The glorious record of his virtues write, And hold it up to men, and bid them claim A palm like his, and catch from him the hallowed flame. W. C. Bryant.

KINDNESS.

Blessed be the Lord: for he hath shewed me his marvellous kindness.--Psalm xxxi. 21.

Rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God: for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness.--Joel, ii. 13.

Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another.--Romans, xii. 10.

Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.--Ephesians, iv. 32.

The poorest poor Long for some moments in a weary life, When they can know and feel that they have been Themselves the fathers and the dealers out Of some small blessings--have been kind To such as needed kindness; for this single cause, That we have all of us a human heart. Wordsworth.

Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, And sing thy great Redemer’s praise; He justly claims a song from me, His loving-kindness O how free!

He saw me ruined in the fall, Yet loved me notwithstanding all: He saved me from my lost estate, His loving-kindness O how great!

Often I feel my sinful heart Prone from my Jesus to depart; But, though I have Him oft forgot, His loving-kindness changes not.

Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale; Soon all my mortal powers shall fail: O may my last expiring breath His loving-kindness sing in death!

Then let me mount and soar away To the bright world of endless day: And sing with rapture and surprise, His loving-kindness in the skies. Medley.

As from the bosom of her mystic fountains, Nile’s sacred water windeth to the main, Flooding each vale embosom’d ’mong the mountains, From far Alata’s fields to Egypt’s plain: So from the bosom of the Fount of Love, A golden stream of sympathy is gushing; And winding, first through intellect above, Then through each vale of mortal mind is rushing; Sweeping the heart of iceberg and of storm, Purging humanity of every blindness, Melting all spirits earthly into one, And leaving holiness and joy--’tis Kindness. D. K. Lee.

Meanwhile as we idly rave, Thousands hasten to the grave; No kind voice their footsteps guides To the home where truth abides; Tones of truth within them stirred, Meet with no kind answering word. J. Gostick.

Be kind to each other! The night’s coming on, When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone. Then, ’midst our dejection, How sweet to have earn’d The blest recollection Of kindness return’d! When day hath departed, And Memory keeps The watch, broken-hearted, Where all the loved sleeps, Let falsehood assail not, Nor envy disprove; Let trifles prevail not Against those ye love. Nor change with to-morrow Should fortune take wing, But the deeper the sorrow The closer still cling. Oh, be kind to each other, For night’s coming on, When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone. Anon.

KING.

The Lord is King for ever and ever.--Psalm x. 16.

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory.--Psalm xxiv. 9, 10.

The King that faithfully judgeth the poor, his throne shall be established for ever.--Proverbs, xxix. 14.

Fear God. Honour the King.--I. Peter, ii. 17.

The king-becoming graces Are justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude. Shakspere.

O take heed, sir, Saints stand upon heaven’s silver battlements, When kings make vows, and lay their listening ears To princes’ protestations. R. Davenport.

The silver trumpet’s heavenly call Sounds for the poor, but sounds alike for all; Kings are invited, and, would kings obey, No slaves on earth more welcome were than they; But royalty, nobility, and state, Are such a dead preponderating weight, That endless bliss, how strange soe’er it seem, In counterpoise flies up, and kicks the beam. Cowper.

There’s not a leaf within the bower; There’s not a bird upon the tree; There’s not a dew-drop on the flower; But leaves the impress Lord of Thee.

Thy hand the varied leaf designed, And gave the bird its thrilling tone; Thy power the dew-drop’s tints combined, Till like the diamond’s blaze they shone.

Yes, dew-drops, leaves, and buds, and all, The smallest, like the greatest things; The sea’s vast space, the earth’s wide hall, Alike proclaim Thee King of Kings. Mrs. Opie.

KINGDOM.

The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens; and his kingdom ruleth over all.--Psalm ciii. 19.

Thy kingdom come.--Matthew, vi. 10.

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.--Matthew, xxv. 34.

Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight; that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.--John, xviii. 36.

And there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ and he shall reign for ever and ever.--Revelation, xi. 15.

“His kingdom come!” For this we pray in vain, Unless He does in our affections reign. How fond it were to wish for such a King, And no obedience to His sceptre bring, Whose yoke is easy, and His burthen light; His service freedom, and His judgments right. Waller.

Kingdoms and thrones to God belong; Crown Him, ye nations, in your song; His wondrous names and powers rehearse, His honours shall enrich your verse.

Proclaim Him King, pronounce Him blest; He’s your defence, your joy, your rest: When terrors rise, and nations faint, God is the strength of every saint. Watts.

Thy kingdom come! and shall we dare With lips unhallowed breathe that prayer? With hearts unsanctified within, How can we ever hope to win A place or kingdom such as Thine, Where all is holy and benign? Send down Thy spirit, Lord, and bless The prayer we falteringly express: Oh, give us grace, and give us power, To wait with confidence the hour When we shall in thy kingdom be, And dwell to all eternity. Egone.

KNOWLEDGE.

Shall any teach God knowledge?--Job, xxi. 22.

He that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know?

The Lord knoweth the thoughts of man, that they are vanity.--Psalm xciv. 10, 11.

Wise men lay up knowledge.--Proverbs, x. 14.

Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.--Daniel, xii. 4.

According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue.--II. Peter, i. 3.

O Lord! in me there lieth nought, But to Thy search revealed lies; For when I sit Thou markest it, No less Thou notest when I rise; Yea, closest closet of my thought Hath open windows to Thine eyes.

Thou walkest with me when I walk, When to my bed for rest I go, I find Thee there, And every where; Not youngest thought in me doth grow, No, not one word I cast to talk, But yet unuttered thou dost know.

To shun Thy notice, leave Thine eye, O whither might I take my way? To starry sphere? Thy throne is there. To dead men’s undelightsome stay? There is Thy walk, and there to lie Unknown, in vain I should essay.

O sun! whom light nor flight can match, Suppose Thy lightful, flightful wings Thou lend to me, And I could flee, As far as Thee the evening brings; Ev’n led to west He would me catch, Nor should I lurk with western things.

Do thou thy best, O secret night In sable vail to cover me; The sable vail Shall vainly fail: With day unmask’d my night shall be: For night is day, and darkness light, O Father of all lights to Thee. Countess of Pembroke.

Almighty Being, Cause and support of all things, can I view These objects of my wonder: can I feel These fine sensations, and not think of Thee? Thou who dost through th’eternal round of time, Dost through th’ immensity of space exist Alone, shalt Thou excluded be From this Thy universe? Shall feeble man Think it beneath his proud philosophy To call for Thy assistance, and pretend To frame a world, who cannot frame a clod? Not to know Thee, is not to know ourselves-- Is to know nothing--worth the care Of man’s exalted spirit. Stillingfleet.

O for the coming of that glorious time When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth And best protection, this imperial realm, While she exacts allegiance, shall admit An obligation, on her part, to teach Them who are born to serve her and obey; Binding herself by statute to secure For all the children whom her soil maintains, The rudiments of letters, and inform The mind with moral and religious truth, Both understood and practised,--so that none, However destitute, be left to droop By culture unsustained; or run Into a wild disorder: or be forced To drudge through a weary life without the help Of intellectual implements and tools; A savage horde among the civilized, A servile band among the lordly free. Wordsworth.

What hast thou, Man, that thou dar’st call thine own? What is there in thee, Man, that can be known?-- Dark fluxion, all unfixable by thought, Vain sister of the worm,--life, death, soul, clod-- Ignore thyself, and strive to know thy God! Coleridge.

What is true knowledge? is it with keen eye Of lucre’s sons to thread the mazy way? Is it of civil rights, and royal sway, And wealth political, the depth to try? Is it to delve the earth, to soar the sky? To marshal nations, tribes in just array; To mix, and analyze, and mete, and weigh Her elements, and all her powers descry? These things, who will may know them, if to know Breed not vain glory; but, o’er all, to scan God in His works, and word shown forth below, Creation’s wonders; and Redemption’s plan Whence came we; what to do, and whither go; This is true knowledge, and the whole of man. Bishop Mant.

Let him stand who will on the giddy height Of the palace-top in his pride of place! In a humbler home may my heart delight, Where my couch is low, and my pillow,--peace.

Be it known to few how my life flows on, As I silent sail on its noiseless tide! When its days and years are expired and gone, Let my record be that,--I lived and died!

For sadly he meets the stroke of death, (At the ends of earth though his name be known,) Who laments, when yielding his final breath, That he’s known to all but himself alone. Mordaunt Barnard.

View all around the works of Power Divine, Inquire, explore, admire, extol, resign; This is the whole of human kind below; ’Tis only given beyond the grave to know. W. Hamilton.

Who loves not knowledge? who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.

But on her forehead sits a fire; She sets her forward countenance, And leaps into the future chance, Submitting all things to desire.

Half-grown as yet, a child, and vain, She cannot fight the fear of death. What is she, cut from love and faith, But some wild Pallas from the brain

Of Demons? fiery hot to burst All barriers in her onward race For power. Let her know her place, She is the second, not the first.

A higher hand must make her mild, If all be not in vain; and guide Her footsteps moving side by side With wisdom, like the younger child.

For she is earthly of the mind, But wisdom heavenly of the soul. O friend, who earnest to thy goal So early, leaving me behind,

I would the great world grew like thee, Who grewest not alone in power And knowledge, but from hour to hour In reverence and in charity. Tennyson.

Knowledge holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to conquest; Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword. Knowledge distilleth health from the virulence of opposite poisons; Ignorance mixeth wholesomes unto the breeding of disease. Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend in all things; But ignorance is everywhere a stranger, unwelcome, ill at ease, and out of place. M. F. Tupper.

LABOUR.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.--Matthew, xi. 28.

The labourer is worthy of his hire.--Luke, x. 7.

Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.--Ephesians, iv. 28.

Inventive Labour! cunning to deceive Thyself, and skilful to no end but this, Still to be doing, never to achieve-- What profitest?--though all, to such excess, Man cannot utter it, be full of thee-- The eye unsatisfied, the ear no less-- Sore travail, and the vainest vanity Ordained to exercise the sons of men-- Who getteth wisdom, where thy trials be? J. A. Heraud.

Labour, with envy and annoyance, where strangers will thee wealth; Labour, with indolence and gloom, where wealth falleth from a father; Labour unto all, whether aching thews, or aching head, or spirit; The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is labour. Nevertheless, to the diligent, labour bringeth blessing; The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is a pleasure; And time spent in doing, hath a comfort that is not for the idle, The hardship is transmuted into joy by the dear alchemy of mercy. Labour is good for man, bracing up his energies to conquest, And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless. For wearily the body groaneth, like a door on rusty hinges, And the grasp of the mind is weakened, as the talons of a caged vulture. M. F. Tupper.

LAND.

And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt.

And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land, and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey.--Exodus, iii. 7, 8.

He that tilleth his land shall be satisfied with bread.--Proverbs, xii. 11.

Thine eyes shall see the king in his beauty: they shall behold the land that is vary far off.--Isaiah, xxxiii. 17.

Beautiful Landscape! I could look on thee For hours, unmindful of the storm and strife, And mingled murmurs of tumultuous life. Here, all is still as fair--the stream, the tree, The wood, the sunshine on the bank; no tear-- No thought of time’s swift wing, or closing night, Which comes to steal away the long sweet light,-- No sighs of sad humanity are here. Here is no tint of mortal change--the day,-- Beneath whose light the dog and peasant boy Gambol, with look, and almost bark, of joy-- Still seems, though centuries have passed, to stay; Then gaze again, that shadow’d scenes may teach Lessons of peace and love, beyond all speech. Bowles.

There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides, And never withering flowers; Death like a narrow sea divides This heavenly land from ours. Dr. Watts.

Yes, far beyond the clouds outspread, Where soaring fancy oft hath been, There is a land where Thou hast said The pure in heart shall enter in; They dream no more of grief and care, For Thou, the God of Peace, art there. Mrs. Welby.

LAW.

And the Lord said unto Moses, come up to me into the mount, and be there: and I will give thee tables of stone, and a law.--Exodus, xxiv. 12.

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.--Psalm i. 1, 2.

Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets; I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.

For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.--Matthew, v. 17, 18.

The good need fear no law; It is his safety, and the bad man’s awe. Massinger.

Law hath dominion over all things, over universal mind and matter; For there are reciprocities of right which no creature can gainsay. Unto each was there added by its Maker, in the perfect chain of being, Dependencies and sustentations, accidents, and qualities, and powers: And each must fly forward in the curve, unto which it was forced from the beginning; Each must attract and repel, or the monarchy of order is no more. Laws are essential emanations from the self-poised character of God, And they radiate from that sun to the circling edges of creation. Verily the mighty _Law_giver hath subjected himself unto laws, And God is the primal grand example of free unrestrained obedience; Martin F. Tupper.

Adam’s foul revolt From the primeval law, on all his sons, Through every age, the sad inheritance Of sin and death entailed. Samuel Hayes.

LEAF.

We all do fade as a leaf.--Isaiah, lxiv. 6.

See the leaves around us falling Dry and withered to the ground; Thus to thoughtless mortals calling, In a sad and solemn sound:

Sons of Adam, once in Eden, Blighted when like us he fell, Hear the lecture we are reading, ’Tis, alas! the truth we tell.

Virgins, much, too much presuming On your boasted white and red, View us, late in beauty blooming, Number’d now among the dead.

Sons of honour, fed on praises, Fluttering high in fancied worth, Lo! the fickle air, that raises, Brings us down to parent earth.

Learned sophs, in systems jaded, Who for new ones daily call, Cease, at length, by us persuaded, Ev’ry leaf must have its fall.

Youths, though yet no losses grieve you, Gay in health and manly grace, Let not cloudless skies deceive you, Summer gives to autumn place.

Venerable sires, grown hoary, Hither turn th’ unwilling eye, Think, amidst your falling glory, Autumn tells a winter nigh.

Yearly in our course returning, Messengers of shortest stay, Thus we preach, this truth concerning, “Heaven and Earth shall pass away.”

On the Tree of Life eternal, Man, let all thy hope be staid, Which alone, for ever vernal, Bears a leaf that shall not fade. Bishop Horne.

LEARNING.

A wise man will hear, and will increase learning; and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels.--Proverbs, i. 5.

Cease to do evil; Learn to do well.--Isaiah, i. 16, 17.

For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning.--Romans, xv. 4.

What is the pomp of learning? the parade Of letters and of tongues? Even as the mists Of the grey morn before the rising sun, That pass away and perish. Earthly things Are but the transient pageants of an hour; And earthly pride is like the passing flower That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die. H. K. White.

Of the deep learning of the schools of yore The reverend pastor hath a golden stock; Yet with a vain display of useless lore, Or sapless doctrine never will he mock The better cravings of his simple flock; But faithfully their humble shepherd guides Where streams eternal gush from Calvary’s rock; For well he knows not learning’s purest tides Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul abides. Mrs. Little.

Learning is good, but holiness is better: Learning with holiness combined--what then? Aye, that is best of all; th’ instructed mind, Which ignorance nor prejudice can fetter, That looks through nature with a searching ken, And knows the history of human kind, And hath a store of treasures at command; If such can meekly bend, and humbly wait Beside the footstool of the Infinite, Eager to bask in beams of saving grace, Learning and goodness then go hand in hand, And happy is the people and the state, That hath such learned men to shed the light Of their example round their early resting-place. Egone.

LIBERTY.

Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.--Romans, viii. 21.

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.--II. Corinthians, iii. 17.

So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of liberty.--James, ii. 12.

In vain from thee, O love, expecting ease, Few hours of calm, but years of grief I passed, And lived on joys and hopes that would not last-- Food ill adapted to my heart’s disease. But now that I desire a full release, And heaven has granted me this sweet contrast Of light, and life, and liberty so vast, Far as I can from thee I fly for peace; Even as a bird, which, rescued from the snare, Wings to the shady covert of the grove, Still fluttering at the danger it has seen. I hear thee call indeed, as I remove; But He who sought me, and who hears my prayer, Allows not earthly love to come between. Gabriel Fiamma.

But there is yet a liberty, unsung By poets, and by senators unpraised, Which monarchs cannot grant, nor all the powers Of earth and hell confederate, take away; A liberty which persecution, fraud, Oppression, prisons, have no power to bind; Which whoso tastes can be enslaved no more. ’Tis liberty of heart, derived from Heaven, Bought with His blood, who gave it to mankind, And sealed with the same token. Cowper.

True Liberty was Christian; sanctified, Baptized and found in Christian hearts alone. First-born of Virtue, daughter of the skies, Nursling of truth divine; sister of all The graces, meekness, holiness, and love. Giving to God, and man, and all below That symptom showed of sensible existence, Their due, unasked. Pollok.

LIFE.

A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.--Luke, xii. 15.

This is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.--John, xvii. 3.

In hope of eternal life, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began.--Titus, i. 2.

For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.--James, iv. 14.

Hereby perceive we the love of God; because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren.--I. John, iii. 16.

So, in the passing of a day, doth pass The bud and blossom of the life of man, Nor e’er doth flourish more, but like the grass Cut down, becometh withered, pale, and wan. Tasso.

I live on earth upon a stage of sorrow; Lord, if Thou pleasest, end the play to-morrow. I live on earth, as in a dream of pleasure; Awake me when Thou wilt, I wait Thy leisure. I live on earth, but as of life bereaven; My life’s with Thee, for, Lord, Thou art in Heaven. Quarles.

Thy life’s a warfare, thou a soldier art, Satan’s thy foeman, and a faithful heart Thy two-edged weapon, patience thy shield, Heaven is thy chieftain, and the world thy field. To be afraid to die, or wish for death, Are words and passions of despairing breath: Who doth the first, the day doth faintly yield; And who the second, basely flies the field. Quarles.

While man is growing, life is in decrease; And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. Our birth is nothing but our death begun; As tapers waste that instant they take fire.

* * * * *

He sins against this life, who slights the next. Young.

Life is most enjoyed When courted least; most worth when disesteemed; Then ’tis the seat of comfort, rich in peace, In prospect richer far; important, awful, Not to be mentioned, but with shouts of praise! Not to be thought on, but with tides of joy! The mighty basis of eternal bliss!

* * * * *

In the same brook, none ever bathed him twice: To the same life, none ever twice awoke. We call the brook the same; the same we think Our life, though still more rapid in its flow; Nor mark the much irrevocably lapsed, And mingled with the sea. Young.

Opening the map of God’s expansive plan, We find a little isle, this life of man; Eternity’s unknown expanse appears Circling around, and limiting his years. The busy race examine and explore Each creek and cavern of the dangerous shore, With care collect what in their eyes excels, Some shining pebbles, and some weeds and shells, Thus laden, dream that they are rich and great, And happiest be that groans beneath his weight. The waves o’ertake them in their serious play, And every hour sweeps multitudes away; They shriek and sink--survivors start and weep, Pursue their sport, and follow to the deep. Cowper.

This mortal life, Seeming so fair, is like a feather tossed, Borne on the wind, and in a moment lost. Or if with sudden wheel it flies Further sometimes, and upwards springs, And then upon its wings Sustained in air, as if self-balanced, lies, The lightness of its nature is the cause-- And swiftly, after little pause, With thousand turns, and thousand idle stops, Because it is of earth, to earth it drops. From the Italian of Sanazzaro.

Transient, fickle, light, and gay, Flattering only to betray; What, alas! can life contain! Life like all its circles,--vain. Moore.

Man’s life’s a book of history; The leaves thereof are days; The letters, mercies closely joined; The title is God’s praise. Mason.

How short is human life! the very breath Which frames my words, accelerates my death. Hannah More.

Ah, what is Life! a dream within a dream; A pilgrimage from peril rarely free; A bark that sails upon a changing sea, Now sunshine and now storm; a mountain stream Heard, but scarce seen ere to the dark deep gone; A wild star blazing with unsteady beam, Yet for a season fair to look upon. Life is an infant on Affection’s knee, A youth now full of hope and transient glee, In manhood’s peerless noon, now bright, anon A time-worn ruin silvered o’er with years. Life is a race where slippery steeps arise, Where discontent and sorrow are the prize, And where the goal appears the grave is won. E. Moxon.

In deserts of the Holy Land I strayed, Where Christ once lived, but seems to live no more, On Lebanon my lonely home I made, I heard the wind among the cedars roar, And saw, far off, the Great Sea’s solemn shore: “But ’tis a dreary wilderness,” I said, Now the prophetic spirit hence has fled: Then, from a convent in the vale, I heard, Slow-chanted forth, the everlasting Word, Saying “I am he that liveth, and was dead, And lo! I am alive for evermore.” Then forth upon my pilgrimage I fare, Resolved to find and praise Him everywhere. J. Gostick.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, “Life is but an empty dream!” For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; “Dust thou art, to dust returnest,” Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way, But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe’er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,--act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o’er life’s solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait. Longfellow.

LIGHT.

And God said. Let there be light: and there was light.

And God saw the light that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

And God called the light Day.--Genesis, i. 3, 4, 5.

Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.--Ecclesiastes, xi. 7.

Come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord.--Isaiah, ii. 5.

Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.--Matthew, v. 16.

The dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.--Luke, i. 78, 79.

Every one that doeth evil, hateth the light; neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved.--John, iii. 20.

The day that only springeth from on high, That high day-light wherein the heavens do live: The life that loves but to behold that eye Which doth the glory of all brightness give, And from the enlightened doth all darkness drive: Where saints do see, and angels know to see A brighter light than saints or angels see.

In this light’s love, O, let me ever live! And let my soul have never other love But all the pleasures of this world to give, The smallest spark of such a joy to prove, And ever pray unto my God above, To grant my humble soul good Simeon’s grace, In love to see my Saviour in the face. Nicholas Breton.

Hail, holy Light, offspring of heav’n first born, Or of th’ Eternal coeternal beam, May I express thee unblam’d? Since God is Light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or hear’st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the sun, Before the heav’ns thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, did’st invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite! Milton.

He that hath light within his own clear breast, May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day; But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun: Himself is his own dungeon. Milton.

Prime cheerer, Light! Of all material beings, first and best! Efflux divine! Nature’s resplendent robe! Without whose vesting beauty, all were wrapt In unessential gloom! and thou, O Sun! Soul of surrounding worlds, in whom, best seen, Shines out thy Maker! Thomson.

See, the time for sleep has run, Rise before, or with the sun: Lift thy hands, and humbly pray The fountain of eternal day. That, as the light, serenely fair, Illustrates all the tracts of air; The Sacred Spirit so may rest, With quickening beams, upon thy breast. Parnell.

When Israel of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came, Her father’s God before her moved, An awful guide in smoke and flame, By day along the astonish’d lands The cloudy pillar glided slow; By night Arabia’s crimson’d sands Return’d the fiery column’s glow.

And present still, though now unseen! When brightly shines the prosperous day. Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen, To temper the deceitful ray; And oh, when stoops in Judah’s path, In shade and storm, the frequent night, Be Thou long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light. Sir Walter Scott.

O light, thy subtle essence who may know? --Ask not, for all things but myself I show. J. Montgomery.

Almighty Framer of the skies! O let our pure devotion rise Like incense in thy sight! Wrapt in impenetrable shade, The texture of our souls was made, Till thy command gave light. Chatterton.

Awake, arise, thy light is come; The nations that before outshone thee, Now at thy feet lie dark and dumb, The glory of the Lord is on thee!

Arise--the Gentiles to thy ray, From ev’ry nook of earth shall cluster; And kings and princes haste to pay Their homage to thy rising lustre. Moore.

Walk in the light! so shalt thou know That fellowship of love His Spirit only can bestow, Who reigns in light above.

Walk in the light! and sin, abhorred, Shall ne’er defile again; The blood of Jesus Christ the Lord Shall cleanse from every stain.

Walk in the light! and thou shalt find, Thy heart made truly His, Who dwells in cloudless light enshrined, In whom no darkness is.

Walk in the light! and thou shalt own Thy darkness passed away, Because that light hath on thee shone, In which is perfect day.

Walk in the light! and e’en the tomb No fearful shade shall wear; Glory shall chase away its gloom, For Christ hath conquered there.

Walk in the light! and thou shalt be A path, though thorny, bright; For God, by grace, shall dwell in thee, And God Himself is light! Barton.

“Let there be light!” The Eternal spoke, And from the abyss where darkness rode The earliest dawn of nature broke, And light around creation flowed: The glad earth smiled to see the day, The first-born day come blushing in; The young day smiled to shed its ray Upon a world untouched by sin.

“Let there be light!” O’er heaven and earth, The God who first the day-beam poured, Uttered again His fiat forth, And shed the gospel’s light abroad; And, like the dawn, its cheering rays On rich and poor were meant to fall, Inspiring their Redeemer’s praise, In lowly cot, and lordly hall.

Then come, when in the orient first Flushes the signal-light for prayer; Come with the earliest beams that burst From God’s bright throne of glory there; Come, kneel to Him who through the night Hath watched above thy sleeping soul; To Him whose mercies, like His light, Are shed abroad from pole to pole. Charles F. Hoffman.

Then moved upon the waveless deep The quickening Spirit of the Lord; And broken was its pulseless sleep Before the Everlasting Word! “Let there be Light!” and listening earth, With tree, and plant, and flowery sod, “In the beginning” sprang to birth, Obedient to the voice of God. W. H Burleigh.

Heard as each morn relumes the eastern cloud, Thy voice of holiest comfort cries aloud, Bidding us rise, the night-like past above, And soar on morning’s wing to thoughts of light and love! Anon.

LORD.

The Lord shall reign for ever and ever.--Exodus, xv. 18.

Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me: Lord, be thou my helper.--Psalm xxx. 10.

By the word of the Lord were the heavens made; and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.--Psalm xxxiii. 6.

Exalt the Lord our God, and worship at his holy hill, for the Lord our God is holy.--Psalm xcix. 9.

And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of many thunderings, saying. Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.--Revelation, xix. 6.

Thou art of all created things O Lord, the essence and the cause, The source and centre of all bliss; What are those veils of woven light, Where sun and moon and stars unite, The purple morn, the sprangled night, But curtains which Thy mercy draws Between the heavenly world and this? The terrors of the sea and land, When all the elements conspire, The earth and water, storm and fire, Are but the shadows of Thy hand; The lightning’s flash, the howling storm, The dread volcano’s awful blaze, Proclaim Thy glory and Thy praise! Beneath the sunny summer showers Thy love assumes a milder form And writes its angel name in flowers; The wind that flies with winged feet Around the grassy gladdened earth, Seems but commissioned to repeat In echo’s accents--silvery sweet-- That Thou, O Lord, didst give it birth. There is a tongue in every flame, There is a tongue in every wave, To these the bounteous Godhead gave These organs but to praise His name! O mighty Lord of boundless space Here canst Thou be both sought and found. For here in everything around Thy presence and Thy power I trace; With faith my guide and my defence, I burn to serve in love and fear; If as a slave, oh! leave me here, If not, O Lord, remove me hence! M’ Carthy, from the Spanish of Calderon.

The Lord of all, Himself through all diffused, Sustains, and is the life of all that lives. Nature is but a name for an effect, Whose cause is God. He feeds the secret fire By which the mighty process is maintained; Who sleeps not, is not weary; in whose sight Slow circling ages are as transient days; Whose work is without labour; whose designs No flaw deforms, no difficulty thwarts; And whose beneficence no charge exhausts. Him blind antiquity profaned, not served, With self-taught rites, and under various names, Female and Male Pomona, Pales, Pan, And Flora, and Vertumnus; peopling earth With tutelary goddesses and gods That were not; and commending as they would To each some province, garden, field, or grove. But all are under one. One Spirit, His Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows, Rules universal nature. Not a flower But shows some touch in freckle, streak, or stain, Of His unrivalled pencil. He inspires Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues, And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes, In grains as countless as the sea-side sands, The forms with which He sprinkles all the earth. Cowper.

The Lord will come! the earth shall quake, The hills their fixed seat forsake; And, with’ring, from the vault of night The stars withdraw their feeble light.

The Lord will come! but not the same As once in lowly form He came, A silent Lamb to slaughter led, The bruis’d, the suff’ring, and the dead.

The Lord will come! a dreadful form, With wreath of flame, and robe of storm, On cherub wings, and wings of wind, Anointed Judge of human-kind!

Go, tyrants! to the rocks complain! Go, seek the mountain’s cleft in vain! But faith, victorious o’er the tomb, Shall sing for joy, the Lord is come! Heber.

Great Former of this various frame, Our souls adore thine awful name; And bow and tremble while they praise The Ancient of eternal days.

Thou Lord, with unsurprised survey, Saw’st nature rising yesterday; And, as to-morrow, shall thine eye, See earth and stars in ruin lie. Doddridge.

In the dark winter of affliction’s hour, When summer friends and pleasures haste away, And the wrecked heart perceives how frail each power It made a refuge, and believed a stay; When man, all wild and weak is seen to be-- There’s none like Thee, O Lord! there’s none like Thee!

Thou in adversity canst be a sun; Thou hast a healing balm, a sheltering tower, The peace, the truth, the life, the love of One, Nor wound, nor grief, nor storm can overpower Gifts of a King; gifts, frequent and yet free,-- There’s none like Thee, O Lord! none, none like Thee! Miss Jewsbury.

Attired with majesty, the Lord doth reign, And girt with strength. The world immovably Is stablished, and His throne shall aye remain! Thou art for ever! The floods have lifted high, O Lord! the floods have lifted high their voice, The floods lift up their billows mightily-- The Lord on high is mightier than the noise Of many waters, stronger than the seas-- Thy word is sure--Let all the earth rejoice! J. A. Heraud.

LOVE.

The Lord preserveth all them that love Him.--Psalm xciv. 20.

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you.--Matthew, v. 44.

This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.--John, xv. 12, 14.

God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.--Romans, v. 8.

Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.--I. John, iii. 1.

Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.--I. John, iv. 7.

Weak though we are, to love is no hard task, And love for love is all that Heaven does ask.

* * * * *

’Tis with our minds as with a fertile ground; Wanting this love, they must with weeds abound; Unruly passions, whose effects are worse Than thorns and briars, springing from the curse. Waller.

Legions of angels, which He might have used, For us resolved to perish, He refused; While they stood ready to prevent His loss, Love took Him up, and nailed Him to the cross. Immortal love! which in His bowels reigned, That we might be by such high love constrained To make return of love; upon this pole Our duty does, and our religion roll. To love is to believe, to hope, to know; ’Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below. He to proud potentates would not be known; Of those who loved Him, He was hid from none. Waller.

Humble love, And not proud science, keeps the door of Heaven; Love finds admission where proud science fails. Young.

Love celestial! wondrous heat! O, beyond expression great! What resistless charms were thine, In thy good, thy best design! When God was hated, sin obeyed, And man undone, without thy aid, From the seats of endless peace They brought the Son, the Lord of Grace; They taught Him to receive a birth, To clothe in flesh, to live on earth, And after, lifted Him on high, And taught Him on the cross to die. Parnell.

He prayeth best, who loveth best All things, both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. Coleridge.

They sin who tell us love can die! With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity; In heaven ambition cannot dwell, Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; Earthly these passions of the earth, They perish where they have their birth. But love is indestructible, Its holy flame for ever burneth, From heaven it came, to heaven returneth: For oft on earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times oppress’d; It here is tried and purified, Then hath in heaven its perfect rest: It sowest here with toil and care, But the harvest-time of love is there. Southey.

I must love on, O God! This bosom must love on! but let thy breath Touch and make pure the flame that knows not death Bearing it up to Heaven, Love’s own abode. Mrs. Hemans.

No mortal object did these eyes behold When first they met the placid light of thine, And my soul felt her destiny divine; And hope of endless peace in me grew bold: Heaven-born, the soul a heavenward course must hold; Beyond the visible world she soars to seek (For what delights the sense is false and weak) Ideal form, the universal mould. The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest In that which perishes: nor will he lend His heart to ought which doth on time depend. ’Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love, Which kills the soul: love betters what is best Even here below, but more in heaven above. Wordsworth, from Michael Angelo.

O Love! thy essence is thy purity! Breathe one unhallowed breath upon thy flame, And it is gone for ever, and but leaves A sullied vase--its pure light lost in shame. Miss Landon.

Love Thee! Oh, clad in human lowliness,-- In whom each heart its mortal kindred knows,-- Our flesh, our forms, our tears, our pains, our woes; A fellow-wanderer o’er earth’s wilderness! Love Thee!--whose very word but breathes to bless! Through Thee, from long-seal’d lips, glad language flows; The blind their eyes, that laugh with light, unclose; And babes, unchid, Thy garment’s hem caress. I see thee--doomed by bitterest pangs to die, Up the sad hill, with willing footsteps move, With scorge, and taunt, and wanton agony; While the cross nods, in hideous gloom, above, Though all--even there--be radiant Deity! Speechless I gaze, and my whole soul is Love. Milman.

They err, who deem love’s brightest hour in blooming youth is flown: Its purest, tenderest, holiest power in after life is known, When passions chastened and subdued, to riper years are given, And earth, and earthly things, are viewed in light that breaks from Heaven. Bernard Barton.

Music of the bough that waves, As the wind plays lightly o’er; Music of the stream that laves Pebbly marge or rocky shore; Sweet your melody to me, Singing to the soul--the tone Exceeds by far the minstrelsy Of halls wherein bright harpers shone; For ye attune His praise who made The wondrous perfect frame we view, Each hill, and plain, and leafy shade, And yon fair canopy of blue: Ye seem to sing,--“How great the arm Of that high God who reigns above; Him worship! but without alarm; His dearest, best known name is Love.” James Edmeston.

All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the Love of God, which shall live and last for aye.

* * * * *

Anon the great globe itself (so the holy writings tell,) With the rolling firmament, where the starry armies dwell, Shall melt with fervent heat--they all shall pass away, Except the Love of God, which shall live and last for aye. W. C. Bryant.

God is Love, saith the Evangel; And our world of woe and sin Is made light and happy only, When a love is shining in. J. G. Whittier.

Oh, loving and forgiving-- Ye angel words of earth Years were not worth the living If ye too had not birth! Oh, loving and forbearing-- How sweet your mission here; The grief that ye are sharing Hath blessings in its tear.

Oh, stern and unforgiving-- Ye evil words of life, That mock the means of living With never-ending strife. Oh, harsh and unrepenting How would ye meet the grave, If Heaven, as unrelenting, Forbore not, nor forgave?

Oh, loving and forgiving-- Sweet sisters of the soul, In whose celestial living The passions find control! Still breathe your influence o’er us Whene’er by passion crost, And, angel-like, restore us The paradise we lost. Charles Swain.

’Tis the angel Love, He, who for ever strives with Death, and yet Doth live! I see a form erect and motionless, Veiled with a cloud of darkness, that no eye Can pierce; that spectre form is Death, and there I see Love crushed and bleeding ’neath his feet: But still undying--still a conqueror--still A thing that Death may wound but cannot quell. In his warm blood a spirit still survives; In his bright eye a soul is living yet; In his undying heart, eternal life Throbs fixedly. Oh strife most beautiful! Thou crowned martyr! thou enduring Love! How beautiful thou art! Constantia L. Riddell.

Why should I a stranger be In my Father’s dwelling, While hill and river, rock and tree, Of his love are telling? Always heard their simple voice, Bidding child-like hearts rejoice, Whispers us this love is near; What we seek in yonder sphere, Love can find it now--and here. Joseph Gostick.

Hail, holy love! ethereal essence, hail! Heaven’s earliest offspring, earliest visitant From thence to earth, here latest found to soothe Man’s burdened heart, with pains and griefs oppressed, (Sad fruit of disobedience,) thou, ere time His race had yet begun, the glorious plan Of mercy didst devise, the day of grace, That with mild lustre dawned in Eden’s shades, What time primeval sinners strove to hide (Vain subterfuge!) from God’s all-piercing eye Their guilt and shame; and thousand promises With kindling radiance on the raptured mind Of patriarchs, and kings, and prophets rose, And saints expectant. S. Stennet.

Love never fails: though knowledge cease, Though Prophecies decay, Love, Christian love, shall still increase, Shall still extend her sway. Here dimly, through life’s shadowy glass, We strain our infant eyes; Soon shall the earth-born vapours pass, And light, unclouded, rise; Then Hope shall sink in changeless doom, Then Faith’s bright race be o’er, But Thou, Eternal Love, shalt bloom More glorious than before. W. Peter.

Before the sparkling lamps on high Were kindled up, and hung around the sky: Before the sun led on the circling hours, Or vital seeds produced their active powers; Before the first intelligences strung Their golden harps and soft preludiums sung To Love, the mighty cause whence their existence sprung, Th’ ineffable Divinity His own resemblance meets in thee. By this thy glorious lineage thou dost prove Thy high descent--for God Himself is Love. Mrs. Rowe.

LOWLINESS.

Though the Lord be high, yet hath He respect unto the lowly: but the proud He knoweth afar off.--Psalm cxxxviii. 6.

When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.--Proverbs, xi. 2.

Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.--Philippians, ii. 3.

The man whose eye Is ever on himself, doth look on one The least of nature’s works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful ever. O be wiser, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love; True dignity abides with him alone, Who in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself In lowliness of heart. Wordsworth.

There are briars besetting every path, That call for patient care; There is a cross in every lot, And an earnest need for prayer; But a lowly heart that leans on Thee Is happy anywhere. Ann L. Waring.

The blessing of a lowly mind Lord, unto me be given, Joy in the meanest spot to find, To see in all of human kind, But fellow-travellers, designed To rest at last in heaven.

The pleasures of a lowly state Oh, let me ne’er despise; And should I sit among the great, Ne’er be my heart with pride elate, But meekly let me watch and wait In lowliness of guise. Egone.

MAN.

In the day that God created man, in the likeness of God made he him.

Male and female created he them; and blessed them, and called their name Adam, in the day when they were created.--Genesis, v. 1, 2.

Behold, even to the moon, and it shineth not; yea, the stars are not pure in his sight.

How much less man, that is a worm? and the son of man, which is a worm?--Job, xxv. 5, 6.

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained.

What is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that thou visitest him.

For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.--Psalm viii. 3, 4, 5.

Man’s goings are of the Lord; how can a man, then, understand his own way?--Proverbs, xx. 24.

Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.--Matthew, iv. 4.

O, what is man, great Maker of mankind! That Thou to him so great respect dost bear; That Thou adornest him with so bright a mind, Mak’st him a king, and even an angel’s peer?

O, what a lively life, what heavenly power, What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire, How great, how plentiful, how rich a dower Dost Thou within the dying flesh inspire!

Thou leav’st Thy print in other works of Thine, But Thy whole image Thou in man hast writ; There cannot be a creature more divine, Except, like Thee, it should be infinite.

But it exceeds man’s thoughts, to think how high God hath raised man, since God a man became; The angels do admire this mystery, And are astonished when they view the same:

Nor hath He given these blessings for a day, Nor made them on the body’s life depend; The soul, though made in time, survives for aye; And though it hath beginning, sees no end. Sir John Davies.

So fair is man, that death (a parting blast,) Blasts his fair flower, and makes him earth at last; So strong is man, that with a gasping breath He totters, and bequeaths his strength to death; So wise is man, that if with death he strive, His wisdom cannot teach him how to live; So rich is man, that (all his debts being paid,) His wealth’s the winding-sheet wherein he’s laid; So young is man, that (broke with care and sorrow,) He’s old enough to-day to die to-morrow. Francis Quarles.

Man’s not a lawful steersman of his days, His bootless wish nor hastens, nor delays; We are God’s hired workmen, He discharges Some late at night, and (when He list) enlarges Others at noon, and in the morning some: None may relieve himself, till He bid, Come. Francis Quarles.

Let us make man in our own image, man In our similitudes, and let them rule Over the fish and fowl of both sea and air, Beast of the field, and over all the earth, And every creeping thing that creeps the ground. This said, He formed thee Adam, thee, O man! Dust of the ground; and in thy nostrils breathed The breath of life: in His own image, He Created thee--in the image of God Express. Milton.

When by His Word God had accomplished all, Man to create He did a council call: Employed His hand to give the dust He took A graceful figure and majestic look; With His own breath conveyed into his breast Life and a soul fit to command the rest. Waller.

Alas! that man Must prove the direst enemy of man-- His boasted reason wielded to contrive Dark systems of despair--his vaunted skill, To forge the fetters which enthral the soul. A. Alexander.

A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt! Though sullied and dishonoured, still divine; Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! a frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! insect infinite! A worm! a god! I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home a stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How reason reels! Oh! what miracle to man to man! Young.

Say, why was man so eminently rais’d Amid the vast creation; why ordain’d Through life and death to dart his piercing eye, With thoughts beyond the limits of his frame; But that the Omnipotent might send him forth In sight of mortal and immortal powers, As on a boundless theatre, to run The great career of justice; to exalt His generous aim to all diviner deeds; To chase each partial purpose from his breast; And through the mists of passion and of sense, And through the tossing tide of chance and pain, To hold his course unfaltering; while the voice Of truth and virtue, up the steep ascent Of nature, calls him to his high reward-- The applauding smile of Heaven? Akenside.

Traveller, as roaming over vales and steeps, Thou hast, perchance, beheld in foliage fair A willow bending o’er a brook--it weeps, Leaf after leaf, into the stream, till bare Are the best boughs, the lovliest and the brightest, Oh! sigh, for well thou may’st, yet as thou sighest, Think not ’tis o’er imaginary woe; I tell thee, traveller, such is mortal man, And so he hangs o’er fancied bliss, and so, While life is verging to its shortest span, Drop one by one his dearest joys away, Till hope is but the ghost of something fair, Till joy is mockery, till life is care, Till he himself is unreflecting clay. Henry Neele.

Whate’er of earth is formed, to earth returns Dissolved: the various objects we behold-- Plants, animals, this whole material mass-- Are ever changing, ever new. The soul Of man alone, that particle divine, Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail: Hence the great distance ’twixt the beasts that perish, And God’s bright image, man’s immortal race. Somerville.

Prostration vile, an alienate from God Man is, and shall his fallen nature rise, Her height regain, and fill ethereal thrones? Many a cloud of evil shall be burst, Ere that day come, severe and dread the strife Of sullied nature with the soul of man, Whate’er his climate, character, or creed, Temptation, like a spirit, tracks his path. R. Montgomery.

And what is man? In outward guise Let him be prince, or peer, or slave, Or poor and weak, or great and wise-- A mortal, tending to the grave: Such are all men--from earth we came, Earth doth her own poor dust reclaim. H. H. Weld.

But, of Thy works, through sea and land, Or the wide fields of ether wending, In man Thy noblest thoughts are blending; Man is the glory of thy hand;-- Man modelled in a form of grace, Where every beauty has its place; A gentleness and glory sharing His spirit, where we may behold A higher aim, a nobler daring: ’Tis Thine immortal mould. Jacob Bellamy.

When the Almighty Fiat, from the gloom Of chaos drawn to light, had now arranged The jarring seeds, the last, the most sublime Of all His works, was Man called forth; to him The Sovereign Word gave empire o’er the whole. Samuel Hayes.

MARRIAGE.

Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.--Genesis, ii. 24.

And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there:

And both Jesus was called, and his disciples to the marriage.--John, ii. 1, 2.

Marriage is honourable in all.--Hebrews, xiii. 4.

Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.--Revelations, xix. 9.

Save the love we pay To Heaven, none purer, holier than that A virtuous woman feels, for him she’d cleave Thro’ life to. Sisters part from sisters--brothers From brothers--children from their parents--but Such woman from the husband of her choice, Never. Sheridan Knowles.

Joy, serious and sublime, Such as doth nerve the energies of prayer, Should swell the bosom, when a maiden’s hand, Filled with life’s dewy flowerets, girdeth on That harness which the ministry of death Alone unlooseth, but whose fearful power May stamp the sentence of Eternity. Mrs. Sigourney.

Look down, O Thou Who wast at Cana! Bless the rite that’s past! Help me to put a wedding-garment on For the great marriage supper; and to wear Thy choice of ornaments, while I await The coming of the Bridegroom. Hannah F. Gould.

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band, Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand. What trying thoughts in the bosom swell, As the bride bids parents and home farewell! Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair, And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer. Henry Ware, Jun.

MARTYRDOM.

And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment;

They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented;

(Of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.--Hebrews, xi. 36, 37, 38.

I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the Word of God.--Revelations, xx. 4.

The Sacred Book, its value understood, Received the seal of martyrdom in blood. These holy men, so full of truth and grace, Seem, to reflection, of a different race; Meek, modest, venerable, wise, sincere, In such a cause they could not dare to fear; They could not purchase earth with such a price, Or spare a life too short to reach the skies. From them to thee conveyed along the tide, Their streaming hearts poured freely when they died; Those truths which neither use nor years impair, Invite thee, woo thee, to the bliss they share. Cowper.

In vain the Roman lord Waved the relentless sword, And spread the terrors of the circling flame; In vain the heathen sought, If chance some lurking spot, Might mar the lustre of the Christian name: The Eternal Spirit, by His fruits confessed, In life secured from stains, and steel’d in death, the breast. Bishop Mant.

The Son of God is gone to war, A kingly crown to gain; His blood-red banner streams afar; Who follows in his train? --Who best can drink his cup of woe, Triumphant over pain; Who boldest bears his cross below,-- He follows in his train.

The martyr first, whose eagle-eye Could pierce beyond the grave; Who saw his Master in the sky, And call’d on him to save: Like him, with pardon on his tongue, In midst of mortal pain, He pray’d for them who did the wrong: --Who follows in the train? Heber.

When persecution’s torrent blaze Wraps the unshrinking martyr’s head, When fade all earthly flowers and bays, When summer friends are gone and fled, Is he alone in that dark hour, Who owns the Lord of love and power?

Or waves there not around his brow, A wand no human arm may wield, Fraught with a spell no angels know, His steps to guide, his soul to shield? Thou, Saviour, art his Charmed Bower, His Magic Ring, his Rock, his Tower. Keble.

In rendering to the Lord what is the Lord’s, Doth not the thought of violence bring shame? Think ye, He gave the branching forest-tree To furnish fagots for the funeral pyre, Or bid His sunrise light the world, to see Pale, tortured victims perish there by fire? Mrs. Norton.

The blood of martyrs, living still, Makes the ground pregnant where it flows, And for their temporary ill Thereon eternal triumph grows. J. A. Heraud.

Thy children, even as martyrs perished: Those first-loved fruits that sprang from thee, From which thy heart was doomed to sever, In praise of God, shall bloom for ever, Unhurt, untouched, by tyranny. Vondel.

MEEKNESS.

The Lord lifteth up the meek.--Psalm cxlvii. 6.

The Lord taketh pleasure in his people: he will beautify the meek with salvation.--Psalm cxlix. 4.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.--Matthew, v. 5.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.--Matthew, xi. 29.

O, what a doctrine of almighty depth Messiah founded, when His truth declar’d In meekness lies the majesty of man! At once the wisdom of the world was dumb, And fortune blasted on her throne of bliss. The ways of pleasantness, the paths of peace, Are dim and narrow, tracks of noiseless gloom Which glory flies, and grandeur seldom walks: The poor in spirit, and the meek in heart, Who thirst and hunger for Thy righteous word.-- Oh! these are blest, for Thine unerring voice Hath call’d them so. R. Montgomery.

Behold! where, in the friend of man, Appears each grace divine: The virtues, all in Jesus met, With mildest radiance shine.

To spread the rays of heavenly light; To give the mourner joy; To preach glad tidings to the poor, Was His divine employ.

’Midst keen reproach and cruel scorn, Patient and meek He stood; His foes, ungrateful, sought His life;-- He laboured for their good. Enfield.

Meek souls there are, who little dream Their daily strife an angel’s theme; And that the end they take so calm, Shall prove in heaven a martyr’s palm. Anon.

MEETING.

And thou shalt put the mercy seat above upon the ark; and in the ark thou shalt put the testimony that I shall give thee.

And there I will meet with thee, and I will commune with thee from above the mercy seat.--Exodus, xxv. 21, 22.

O, when a mother meets on high The babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrows, all her tears, An over-payment of delight? Southey.

O, ’tis one scene of parting here, Love’s watchword is farewell! And almost starts the following tear, Ere dried the last that fell! ’Tis but to feel that one most dear Is needful to the heart, And straight a voice is muttering near, Imperious, Ye must part!

But happiest he, whose gifted eye Above this world can see, And those diviner realms descry, Where partings cannot be; Who, with One changeless Friend on high, Life’s various path has trod, And soars to meet, beyond the sky, The ransomed and their God. Townshend.

Oh, what an all-glorious meeting, In yonder bright world we shall know; When glorified spirits are greeting The friends they left mourning below.

Earth’s friendships renewed shall then heighten The loud-rolling anthem of praise; While each happy spirit shall brighten At the feet of the ancient of days. W. J. Brock.

MERCY.

All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.--Psalm xxv. 10.

The Lord is good to all: and His tender mercies are over all His works.--Psalm cxlv. 9.

He that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he.--Proverbs, xiv. 21.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.--Matthew, v. 7.

Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.--Luke, vi. 36.

Ye Sacred Writings! in whose antique leaves, The wondrous deeds of heaven recorded lie, Say what might be the cause, that mercy heaves The dust of sin above the starry sky, And lets it not to dust and ashes fly? Could Justice be of sin so over-woo’d, Or so great ill be cause of so great good, That, bloody man to save, man’s Saviour shed his blood.

Here, when the ruin of that beauteous frame, Whose golden building shin’d with every star Of excellence, deform’d with sin became; Mercy rememb’ring peace in midst of war, Lift up the music of her voice to bar Eternal fate, lest it should quite erase That from the world, which was the first world’s grace. And all again into their nothing--chaos--chase. Giles Fletcher.

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He which is the top of judgment, should But judge you, as you are? O, think on that! And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like men new made. Shakspere.

It is an attribute of God himself, And earthly power doth then show liker God’s, When mercy seasons justice. Shakspere.

When winter fortunes cloud the brows Of summer friends,--when eyes grow strange,-- When plighted faith forgets its vows, When earth and all things in it change,-- O Lord, thy mercies fail me never-- Where once thou lovest, thou lovest for ever! John Quarles.

Mercy is the highest reach of wit, A safety unto them that save with it: Born out of God, and unto human eyes, Like God, not seen, till fleshly passion dies. Lord Brooke.

’Tis He supports my mortal frame, My tongue shall speak His praise, My sins would rise His wrath to flame, And yet His wrath delays.

On a poor worm Thy power might tread, And I could ne’er withstand, Thy justice might have crushed me dead, But mercy held Thy hand. Watts.

Hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind On the precarious mercy of mankind; Who hopes for wild and visionary things, And mounts o’er unknown seas with vent’rous wings. Crabbe.

Though Nature her inverted course forego, The day forget to rest, the time to flow, Yet shall Jehovah’s servants stand secure, His Mercy, fixed, eternal shall endure; On them her everlasting rays shall shine, More mild and bright, and sure, O sun! than thine. Bishop Lowth.

How are thy servants bless’d, O Lord! How sure is their defence! Eternal wisdom is their guide, Their help, Omnipotence!

In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by thy care, Through burning climes I pass’d unhurt, And breathed in tainted air.

In midst of dangers, fears, and death, Thy goodness I’ll adore; And praise thee for thy mercies past, And humbly hope for more. Addison.

With grief opprest, and prostrate in the dust, Shouldst Thou condemn, I own thy sentence just. But oh! Thy softer titles let me claim, And plead my cause by Mercy’s gentle name. Mercy, that wipes the penitential tear, And dissipates the horrors of despair; From righteous Justice steals the vengeful hour, Softens the dreadful attributes of power, Disarms the wrath of an offended God, And seals my pardon in a Saviour’s blood. Mrs. Carter.

O, Thou, whose piercing thought Doth note each secret path, For mercy to Thy Throne we fly From man’s condemning wrath.

How fearless should our trust In thy compassion be, When from our brother of the dust We dare appeal to Thee. Mrs. Sigourney.

Believe, and fear not! in the blackest cloud A sunbeam hides; and from the deepest pang, Some hidden mercy may a God declare! R. Montgomery.

By all the tender mercy God hath shown to human grief, When fate, or man’s perverseness, Denied and barr’d relief,-- By the helpless woe which taught me To look to Him alone, From the vain appeals for justice And wild efforts of my own,-- By thy light--thou unseen future, And thy tears--thou bitter past, I will hope--though all forsake me-- In His Mercy to the last! Mrs. Norton.

If Heaven Did in the balance of strict justice weigh The iniquity of men, who could abide Its judgment? Did not mercy temper wrath, Eternal ruin would o’erwhelm mankind. Samuel Hayes.

Mercy descends From heaven, and o’er the penitential heart, Rent by the agonizing pains of guilt, Spreads the soft blessings of internal peace. Samuel Hayes.

Mankind are all pilgrims on life’s weary road, And many would wander astray In seeking eternity’s silent abode, Did Mercy not point out the way. G. P. Morris.

I hear a sound that comes from far; It fills my soul with joy and love; Not seraphs’ voices sweeter are, That echo through the courts above.

’Tis mercy’s voice that strikes my ear, From Calvary it sounds abroad; It soothes my soul and calms my fear; It speaks of pardon bought with blood.

And is it true that many fly The sound that bids my soul rejoice, And rather choose with fools to die, Than turn an ear to mercy’s voice.

With such, I own, I once appeared, But now I know how great their loss; For sweeter sounds were never heard, Than mercy utters from the cross. Kelly.

Lord have mercy when we strive To save, through Thee, our souls alive! When the pampered flesh is strong, When the strife is fierce and long; When our wakening thoughts begin First to loathe their cherished sin, And our weary spirits fail, And our aching brows are pale, Oh, then have mercy, Lord! H. H. Milman.

MESSAGE.

I have a message from God unto thee.--Judges, iii. 20.

The priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth: for he is the messenger of the Lord of Hosts.--Malachi, ii. 7.

Behold I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me.--Malachi, iii. 1.

This is the message that ye heard from the beginning, that we should love one another.--I. John, iii. 11.

Gently hast thou told Thy message, which might else in telling wound, And in performing end us. Milton.

O for a message from above To bear my spirit up! Some pledge of my Creator’s love To calm my terrors and support my hope! Let waves and thunders mix and roar; Be thou my God, and the whole world is mine: While thou art Sovereign, I’m secure; I shall be rich till Thou art poor; For all I fear, and all I wish, Heaven, Earth, and Hell, are thine. Watts.

Oh, there are messengers of wrath, And messengers of love; And each one goeth on his path, Commissioned from above.

Eternal justice sends the one, Mercy the other guides; Their ways at times so nearly run, That scarce a line divides.

Which, oh my soul! shall come to thee, When my last hour is near? What shall the awful message be, That thou shalt trembling hear?

Momentous question! yet, alas! But little heed I pay, Although I see the messengers Speed by me every day. Egone.

MESSIAH.

Know therefore and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem unto the Messiah the Prince, shall be seven weeks, and threescore and two weeks: the street shall be built again, and the wall, even in troublous times.

And after threescore and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for himself.--Daniel, ix. 25, 26.

We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ.--John, i. 41.

The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay, Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away; But, fixed, His word, His saving power remains; Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns. Pope.

Messiah comes!--Let furious discord cease; Be peace on earth before the Prince of Peace! Disease and anguish feel His blest control, And howling fiends release the tortured soul! The beams of gladness Hell’s dark caves illume, And mercy broods above the distant gloom. Bishop Heber.

Messiah comes! ye rugged paths be plain; The Shiloh comes, ye towering cedars bend; Swell forth ye valleys; and, ye rocks descend; The withered branch let balmy fruits adorn, And clustering roses twine the leafless thorn; Burst forth, ye vocal groves, your joy to tell-- The God of Peace redeems His Israel. C. H. Johnson.

Rising from His cross and passion, Lo! the King Messiah reigns; Lord! the strength of Thy salvation His triumphant joy sustains; Crowned with conquest Now th’ eternal throne He gains.

Joy and triumph crown the Saviour, Seated on the throne above; There exalted in Thy favour, Safely trusting in Thy love: King of Sion! Never shall Thy throne remove! Goode.

MIND.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee; because he trusteth in thee.--Isaiah, xxvi. 3.

To be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.

Because the carnal mind is enmity against God.--Romans, viii. 6, 7.

A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.--James, i. 8.

Mylo, forbear to call him blest, That only boasts a large estate: Should all the treasures of the west Meet, and conspire to make him great,-- Should a broad stream with golden sands Through all his meadows roll,-- He’s but a wretch, with all his lands, That wears a narrow soul.

Were I so tall as reach the pole, Or grasp the ocean with my span, I must be measured by my soul: The mind’s the standard of the man. Watts.

When coldness wraps this suffering clay, Ah, whither strays the immortal mind? It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darken’d dust behind. Byron.

The insate mind, but from without supplied, Languishes on a weak imperfect food; If sustenance more spiritual be denied, With flame consuming on itself ’twill brood. Sir E. Brydges.

My voice proclaims How exquisitely the individual Mind (And the progressive powers perhaps no less Of the whole species,) to the External world Is fitted:--and how exquisitely too-- Theme this but little heard of among men-- The External world is fitted to the Mind; And the Creation, (by no lower name Can it be called,) which they with blended might Accomplish--this is our high argument. Wordsworth.

MINISTRY.

Ye shall be named the Priests of the Lord: men shall call you the ministers of our God.--Isaiah, lxi. 6.

We will give ourselves continually to prayer, and to the ministry of the word.--Acts, vi. 4.

If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ.--I. Timothy, iv. 6.

Their ministry performed, and race well run, Their doctrine and their story written left, They die. Milton.

From essences unseen, celestial names, Enlight’ning spirits and ministerial flames, Lift we our reason to that Sovereign Cause, Who blessed the whole with life. Prior.

God gives us ministers of love, Which we regard not, being near; Death takes them from us, then we feel That angels have been with us here!

As mother, sister, friend, or wife, They guide us, cheer us, soothe our pain; And when the grave has closed between Our heart and theirs, we love--in vain. Aldrich.

Oh, thou who once on earth, beneath the weight Of our mortality did’st live and move, The incarnation of profoundest love; Who, on the Cross, that love didst consumate,-- Whose deep and ample fulness could embrace The poorest, meanest of our fallen race! How shall we e’er that boundless debt repay?-- By long, loud prayers in gorgeous temples said? By rich oblations on thine altars laid?-- Ah no! not thus thou didst appoint the way. When thou wast bowed our human woe beneath, Then as a legacy thou didst bequeath Earth’s sorrowing children to our ministry; And as we do to them, we do to thee. Anne C. Lynch.

MIRACLES.

After these things Jesus went over the sea of Galilee, which is the sea of Tiberias.

And a great multitude followed him, because they saw his miracles which he did on them that were diseased.--John, vi. 1, 2.

Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you, by miracles, and wonders, and signs.--Acts, ii. 22.

And God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul.

So that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them.--Acts, xix. 11, 12.

God also bearing them witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles.--Hebrews, ii. 4.

O, what a scale of miracles is here-- Its lowest round high planted in the skies; Its towering summit lost, beyond the thought Of man or angel. Young.

A miracle, with miracles enclosed, Is man; and starts his faith at what is strange? What less than wonders from the Wonderful; What less than miracles, from God can flow? Admit a God--that mystery supreme, That Cause uncaused, all other wonders cease. Young.

Who! O, who shall tell His acts miraculous? When His own decrees Repeals He, or suspends; when by the hand Of Moses or of Joshua, or the mouths Of His prophetic seers, such deeds He wrought, Before the astonished sun’s all-seeing eye, That faith was scarce a virtue. Need I sing The fate of Pharaoh, and his numerous band, Lost in the reflux of the watery walls, That melted to their fluid state again? Need I recount bow Samson’s warlike arm With more than mortal nerves was strung, to o’erthrow Idolatrous Philistia? Shall I tell How David triumphed, and what Job sustained? --But, O supreme, unutterable mercy! O love unequalled, mystery immense, Which angels long to unfold! ’Tis man’s redemption That crowns Thy glory, and Thy power confirms. Smart.

When God came down from Heaven, the Living God, What signs and wonders marked His stately way? Brake out the winds in music where He trode? Shone o’er the heavens a brighter, softer day?

The dumb began to speak, the blind to see, And the lame leaped, and pain and darkness fled; The mourner’s sunken eye grew bright with glee, And from the tomb awoke the wondering dead. H. H. Milman.

“Come forth!” He cries, “thou dead!” O God, what means that strange and sudden sound, That murmurs from the tomb? That ghastly head, With funeral fillets bound? It is a living form-- The loved, the lost, the won, Won from the grave, corruption, and the worm-- “And is not this the Son Of God?” they whispered, while the sisters poured Their gratitude in tears, for they had known the Lord. Dale.

At His command fled fever, thirsty fiend, Whose parching fire dries up the wholesome blood: And madness wild, whose moon-struck eye-balls glare, With steady gaze, on vacancy: His touch, With healing virtue, from the withered limbs Drove nerveless palsy, that with fatal stroke ’Numbs every fibre, grafting death on life-- Unnatural union! Scaly leprosy, At His appearance, vanished: dropsy, swol’n, Withdrew his bloated form, and each confessed A present God. William Bolland.

When raging winds Rushed from their caverns, and resistless swept The foaming waves, when hideous roared the storm, As if the wild contending elements Had strove for mastery, at His command The tempest ceased, the towering billows sunk In undulations calm, and zephyrs played Upon the bosom of the peaceful deep. William Bolland.

MISERY.

Thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters that pass away.--Job, xi. 16.

To every purpose there is time and judgment, therefore the misery of man is great upon him.--Ecclesiastes, viii. 6.

Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you.--James, v. 1.

Till in our eyes another sight we met; When fro my heart a sigh forthwith I fet, Rueing, alas, upon the woeful plight Of Misery, that next appear’d in sight.

His face was lean, and some deal pined away, And eke his hands consumed to the bone; But, what his body was, I cannot say, For, on his carcase raiment had he none, Save clouts and patched pierced one by one, With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulders cast, His chief defence against the winter’s blast.

His food, for most, was wild fruits of the tree, Unless sometime some crumbs fell to his share, Which in his wallet long, God wot, kept be, As on the which full daint’ly would he fare; His drink, the running stream! his cup, the bare Of his palm closed; his bed, the hard cold ground, To this poor life was Misery ybound. Sackville.

I do believe myself the creature, Subject, and soldier, if I so may speak, Of an Almighty Father, King and Lord; Before whose presence, when my soul shall be Of flesh and blood disrobed, I shall appear, There to remain with all the great and good That e’er have lived on earth; yea, and with spirits Higher than earth e’er owned, in such pure bliss As human hearts conceive not,--if my life, With its imperfect virtue, find acceptance From pard’ning love and mercy; but if otherwise,-- That I shall pass into a state of misery, With souls of wicked men and wrathful demons. Joanna Baillie.

MISSIONARIES.

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!--Isaiah, lii. 7.

This gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations: and then shall the end come.--Matthew, xxiv. 14.

They are the messengers of the churches, and the glory of Christ.--II. Corinthians, viii. 23.

By Heaven directed, by the world reviled, Amidst the wilderness they sought a home, Where beasts of prey and men of murder roam, And untamed Nature holds her revels wild. There on their pious toil their Master smiled, And prospered them, unknown or scorned of men, Till in the satyr’s haunt, and dragon’s den, A garden bloomed, and savage hordes grew mild. So, in the guilty heart, when heavenly grace Enters, it ceaseth not till it uproot All evil passions from each hidden cell; Planting again an Eden in their place, Which yields to men and angels pleasant fruit, And God Himself delighteth there to dwell. Pringle.

Strange scenes, strange men, untold, untried distress; Pain, hardships, famine, cold, and nakedness, Diseases; death, in every hideous form, On shore, at sea, by fire, by flood, by storm; Wild beasts, and wilder men:--unmoved with fear, Health, comfort, safety, life they count not dear, May they but hope a Saviour’s love to show, And warn one spirit from eternal woe: Nor will they faint, nor can they strive in vain, Since thus--to live is Christ, to die is gain. James Montgomery.

Thus saith the Lord,--My Church, to thee, Peace, like a river, I will send; The Gentiles in a stream shall see My mercy, flowing without end.

The isles that never heard my fame, Nor knew the glory of my might, They shall be taught to fear my name Called out of darkness into light.

And it shall come to pass, that vows From Sabbath unto Sabbath day, From moon to moon, in mine own house, All nations, tribes, and tongues, shall pay. James Montgomery.

Our prayers be with them--we who know The value of a soul to save, Must pray for those who seek to show The heathen, hope beyond the grave. Miss Landon.

Blessings be on their pathway, and increase! These are the moral conquerors, and belong To them the palm-branch and triumphal song-- Conquerors,--and yet the harbingers of peace! Miss Landon.

Great Britain has her sons, both frank and brave, Who noble triumphs win, but wear no glave! Sons who in heart are firm, in toil are free, To spread her glorious name from sea to sea! Men, who have pushed their conquests wide and far, And changed to pruning-hooks the shafts of war; Who bear no glittering arms, no banners wave-- Who strike no blow--are stricken but to save! Yet still they conquer! and where they appear, The painted savage breaks his poisoned spear; A bloodless triumph follows in their train-- For those they vanquish feel no victor’s chain! They conquer!--nor like other conquerors boast A prostrate people and a plundered coast-- Nor pant to hear a nation’s deafening peals, With captive warriors at their chariot wheels-- Nor hang, like relics, in our holiest fane, The flags that blush with war’s unhallowed stains.-- No, theirs are triumphs war can never bring! Theirs are the pæans guardian seraphs sing! Their noblest banner is the Book of Truth! Their trophies--age, and infancy, and youth! ’Tis theirs to free--exalt--and not debase-- The painted brothers of our common race! Nor stripe--nor tribute--nor oppressive sway Degrade their labours, or obstruct their way! Their watchword still--Let war and sorrow cease! Their noblest epithet--The men of peace! Dr. W. Beattie.

He goes to speak the words of life To souls by error tossed: And bear the gospel’s joyful sound To lands in darkness lost-- To speak his Master’s glorious works, His grace and power proclaim, And teach untutored savages To breathe Messiah’s name.

And O, the rich reward that waits A work of grace like this! A life of love, a death of peace, A Heaven of endless bliss! Earth’s proudest, noblest honours, fall Far, far below the prize He gains, who claims this work his own-- His glory never dies! S. D. Patterson.

O, bless the pious zeal And crown with glad success the labouring sons Of that best charity, whose annual mite Sends forth Thy gospel to the distant isles! So shall the nations, rescued myriads, hear, And own Thy mercy over all Thy works! So, from each corner of the enlightened earth, Incessant peals of universal joy Shall hail Thee, heavenly Father, God of all! Madan.

Where is your heathen brother?--From his grave Near thy own gates, or ’neath a foreign sky, From the thronged depths of ocean’s mourning wave, His answering blood reproachfully doth cry, Blood of the soul!--Can all earth’s fountains make Thy dark stain disappear?--Stewards of God, awake! Mrs. Sigourney.

MOMENT--MINUTE.

In a moment shall they die, and the people shall be troubled at midnight, and pass away.--Job, xxxiv. 20.

Come, my people, enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee: hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast.--Isaiah, xxvi. 20.

Minutes are number’d by the fall of sands, As by an hour-glass; the span of time Doth waste us to our graves and we look on it. An age of pleasures, revell’d out, comes home At last, and ends in sorrow; but the life, Weary of riot, numbers every sand, Waiting in sighs, until the last drop down; So to conclude calamity in rest. Ford.

Catch, then, O catch the transient hour, Improve each moment as it flies; Life’s a short summer,--man a flower; He dies--alas! how soon he dies! Dr. Johnson.

Hark! What petty pulses, beating, Spring new moments into light; Every pulse, its stroke repeating, Sends its moment back to night; Yet not one of all the train Comes uncall’d, or flits in vain.

In the highest realms of glory Spirits trace, before the throne, On eternal scrolls, the story Of each little moment flown; Every deed, and word, and thought, Through the whole creation wrought.

Were the volume of a minute Thus to mortal sight unroll’d, More of sin and sorrow in it, More of man, might we behold, Than on history’s broadest page In the reliques of an age. James Montgomery.

MORNING.

My voice shalt Thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up.--Psalm v. 3.

My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning.--Psalm cxxx. 6.

Behold the day, behold it is come: the morning is gone forth.--Ezekial, vii. 10.

Seek Him that maketh the seven stars and Orion, and turneth the shadow of death into the morning, and maketh the day dark with night.--Amos, v. 8.

When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave To do the like; our bodies but forerun The spirit’s duty; true hearts spread and heave Unto their God, as flowers do the sun: Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep.

Yet never sleep the sun up; prayer should Dawn with the day, there are set awful hours ’Twixt Heaven and us; the manna was not good After sun-rising, for day sullies flowers. Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut, And Heaven’s gate opens when the world’s is shut.

Walk with thy fellow-creatures; note the hush And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning hymn; each bush And oak doth know I AM--canst thou not sing? O leave thy cares and follies! Go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day.

Mornings are mysteries: the first world’s youth, Man’s resurrection, and the future’s bud, Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light, truth, Is styled their star; the stone and hidden food: Three blessings wait upon them, one of which Should move--They make us holy, happy, rich. Henry Vaughan.

Again the Lord of life and light Awakes the kindling ray, Unseals the eyelids of the morn, And pours increasing day.

O, what a night was that which wrapp’d The heathen world in gloom! O, what a sun which broke this day Triumphant from the tomb!

This day be grateful homage paid, And loud Hosannah’s sung; Let gladness dwell on every heart, And praise on every tongue.

Then thousand different lips shall join To hail this happy morn; Which scatters blessings from its wings On nations yet unborn. Barbauld.

Through the vales the breezes sigh; Twilight opes her bashful eye, Peeping from the east, she brings Dew-drops on her dusky wings: And the lark, with wak’ning lay, Upsprings, the harbinger of day.

Now behold! the blushing sky Tells the bridegroom sun is nigh; Nature tunes her joyful lyre, And the trembling stars retire, Him the east, in crimson drest, Ushers, nature’s welcome guest, And the mountains of the west Seem to lift their azure heads, Jealous of the smile he sheds.

Glory, beaming from on high, Charms devotion’s lifted eye; Bliss, to which sluggards ne’er were born, Waits the attendant of the morn. Maria Colling.

The morning breaks, And earth in her Maker’s smile awakes; His light is on all, below and above, The light of gladness, and life, and love. O, then, on the breath of this early air, Send up the incense of grateful prayer! Henry Ware, Jun.

The God of mercy walks His round From day to day, from year to year, And warns us each with awful sound, “No longer stand ye idle here.”

Ye, whose young cheeks are rosy bright, Whose hands are strong, whose hearts are clear, Waste not of youth the morning light, Oh fools, why stand ye idle here?

And ye, whose scanty locks of grey Foretel your latest travail near, How fast declines your useless day, And stand ye yet so idle here?

One hour remains, there is but one, But many a grief and many a tear, Through endless ages, must atone For moments lost and wasted here. Heber.

Serve God at morn, that solemn hallowed hour, When Nature wakes, as from the sleep of death, When the glad song from mountain, grove, and bower, Is heard through heaven and on the earth beneath. Serve God! Let Him receive thy morning’s early breath. Weir.

Morn is the time to think, While thoughts are fresh and free, Of life, just balanced on the brink Of vast eternity! To ask our souls if they are meet To stand before the judgment seat. Miss Gray.

New, every morning, is the love Our wakening and uprising prove; Through sleep and darkness safely brought, Restored to life, and power, and thought.

New mercies each returning day, Hover around us while we pray; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of Heaven. Keble.

MOSES.

So Moses the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord.

And He buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.--Deuteronomy, xxxiv. 5, 6.

By faith Moses, when he was come to years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter;

Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season;

Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt; for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward.--Hebrews, xi. 24, 25, 26.

Slow glides the Nile; amid the margin flags, Closed in a bulrush ark, the babe is left; Left by a mother’s hand. His sister waits Far off; and pale, ’tween hope and fear, beholds The royal maid, surrounded by her train, Approach the river bank; approach the spot Where sleeps the innocent: she sees them stoop With meeting plumes; thy rushy lid is ope’d, And wakes the infant smiling in his tears. Grahame.

The son of Amram spurns the regal prize, From the rich scene the zealous hero flies, And dwells ’mongst Israel’s sons. Resigned he bears The servile yoke, and every burden shares; Rather than violate Jehovah’s trust, And live the pampered slave of sordid lust, He quits the Egyptian court, and, undismayed, Seeks poverty’s inhospitable shade. Samuel Hayes.

In his hand The rod which blasted, with strange plagues, the realm Of Mizraim, and from its time-worn channels Upturned the Arabian Sea. Fair was his broad High front, and forth from his soul-piercing eye, Did legislation look. Hillhouse.

On the Mount Of Sinai, whose foundations shook, whose top Was lost in smoke and fire, while seraphim At distance gazed, full forty days and nights, Guest of terrestrial mould, did he sojourn Within the dread pavilion, and the veil Of cloud and tempest; there as face to face, In visions of beatitude rejoiced Past utterance, till his countenance imbibed Transcendent splendours. Charles Hoyle.

Moses, the patriot fierce, became The meekest man on earth, To show us how love’s quickening flame Can give our souls new birth.

Moses, the man of meekest heart, Lost Canaan by self-will, To show, where Grace has done its part, How sin defiles us still. Lyra Apostolica.

Sweet was the journey to the sky The holy prophet tried; “Climb up the mount,” said God, “and die”-- The prophet climbed, and died.

Softly his fainting head he lay Upon his Maker’s breast; His Maker soothed his soul away, And laid his flesh to rest.

In God’s own arms he left the breath That God’s own Spirit gave; His was the noblest road to death, And his the sweetest grave. Watts.

God made his grave, to men unknown, Where Moab’s rocks a vale infold; And laid the aged seer alone, To slumber while the world grows old. Thus still, where’er the good and just Close the dim eye on life and pain, Heaven watches o’er their sleeping dust, Till the pure spirit comes again. W. C. Bryant.

MOTHER.

He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the Lord.--Psalm cxiii. 9.

Despise not thy mother when she is old.--Proverbs, xxiii. 22.

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.

When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!

Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her into his own home.--John, xix. 25, 26, 27.

Her pious love excelled to all she bore; New objects only multiplied it more; And as the chosen found the pearly grain As much as every vessel could contain: As in the blissful vision, each shall share, As much of glory as his soul can bear, So did she love, and so dispense her care. Dryden.

But when I go To my lone bed, I find no mother there; And weeping kneel, to say the prayer she taught; Or when I read the Bible that she loved, Or to her vacant seat at church draw near, And think of her, a voice is in my heart, Bidding me early seek my God, and love My Blessed Saviour; and that voice is her’s, I know it is, because these were the words She used to speak so tenderly, with tears, At the still twilight hour,--or when we walked Forth in the Spring, among rejoicing birds, Or peaceful talked beside the Winter hearth. Mrs. Sigourney.

But if in yon immortal clime, Where flows no parting tear, That root of earthly love may grow, Which struck so deeply here; With what a tide of boundless bliss, A thrill of rapture wild, An angel mother in the skies, Will greet her cherub child. Mrs. Sigourney.

And say to mothers what a holy charge Is theirs--with what a kingly power their love Might rule the fountains of the new-born mind. Warn them to wake at early dawn, and sow Good seed before the world has sown its tares. Mrs. Sigourney.

Hast thou sounded the depths of yonder sea, And counted the sands that under it be? Hast thou measured the height of heaven above? Then may’st thou mete out a mother’s love.

Hast thou talked with the blessed of leading on To the throne of God some wandering son? Hast thou witnessed the angel’s bright employ? Then may’st thou speak of a mother’s joy.

Evening and morn hast thou watched the bee Go forth on her errands of industry. The bee for himself hath gathered and toiled, But the mother’s cares are all for her child.

Hast thou gone with the traveller Thought afar-- From pole to pole, and from star to star? Thou hast--but on ocean, earth, and sea, The heart of a mother has gone with thee.

There is not a grand, inspiring thought, There is not a truth by wisdom taught, There is not a feeling pure and high, That may not be read in a mother’s eye.

And ever, since earth began, that look Has been to the wise an open book, To win them back from the lore they prize, To the holier love that edifies.

There are teachings in earth, and sky, and air, The heavens the glory of God declare; But louder than voice, beneath, above, He is heard to speak through a mother’s love. Emily Taylor.

The mother’s love--there’s none so pure, So constant, and so kind, No human passion doth endure Like this within the mind. Mrs. Hale.

Lo! where yon cottage whitens through the green, The loveliest feature of a matchless scene; Beneath its shading elm, with pious fear, An aged mother draws her children near; While from the Holy Word, with earnest air, She teaches them the privilege of prayer. Look! How their infant eyes with rapture speak; Mark the flushed lily on the dimpled cheek; Their hearts are filled with gratitude and love, Their hopes are centred in a world above, Where, in a choir of angels, Faith portrays The loved, departed, father of their days. Rufus Dawes.

By thee, dear Mother, o’er whose darksome bed Summer now pours his beams in vain--by thee Gladly my infant love of flowers was fed; By thee my steps through flow’ry tracts were led, Where ne’er mine eye could aught but beauty see; Throughout our borne exotics perfume shed, In sooth, it was fair Flora’s treasury! Thy love, and use of heaven’s blest means of grace, Faith bids me trust, have placed thee with thy God, Where flowers unfading deck the lovely place. Oh, when I’ve closed my toilsome earthly race, With thee may those bright scenes by me be trod, With thee may I behold th’ eternal face. William Pulling.

A mother’s love Is an undying feeling. Earth may chill And sever other sympathies, and prove How weak all human bonds are; it may kill Friendships, and crush hearts with them--but the thrill Of the maternal breast must ever move In blest communion with her child, and fill Even Heaven itself with prayers and hymns of love. S. D. Patterson.

I see my mother’s calm, sad face Look through the mist of by-gone years; And from yon high and holy place, Her accents come unto mine ears, To bid me hope amid my fears. Egone.

MOUNTAIN.

As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even for ever.--Psalm cxxv. 2.

It shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it.--Isaiah, ii. 2.

Once more, hoar mount! with thy sky-pointing peak, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pine serene, Into the depths of clouds that veil thy breast-- Thou too again stupendous mountain! thou That, as I raise my head, awhile bow’d low In adoration, upward from thy base Slow-travelling with dim eyes suffused with tears, Solemnly seemest, like a vapoury cloud, To rise before me--rise, O ever rise, Rise like a cloud of incense from the earth! Thou kingly spirit throned amongst the hills. Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, Great Hierarch! tell thou the silent sky, And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. Coleridge.

Behold! the mountain of the Lord In later days shall rise On mountain tops above the hills, And draw the wondering eyes:

To this the joyful nations round, All tribes and tongues shall flow; “Up to the hill of God,” they’ll say, And to his house we’ll go.

The beam that shines from Zion’s hill, Shall lighten every land; The King who reigns in Salem’s towers, Shall all the world command. Logan.

Calvary’s mournful mountain climb; There, adoring at His feet, Mark that miracle of time, God’s own sacrifice complete. J. Montgomery.

MOURNING.

I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.--Psalm xxxviii. 6.

Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.--Isaiah, lx. 20.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.--Matthew, v. 4.

O man! while in thy early years, How prodigal of time! Misspending all thy precious hours, Thy glorious youthful prime! Alternate follies take the sway; Licentious passions burn; Which tenfold force gives nature’s law, That man was made to mourn.

Many and sharp the num’rous ills Inwoven with our fame! More pointed still we make ourselves, Regret, remorse, and shame! And man, whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn, Man’s inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn.

See yonder poor, o’erlabour’d wight; So abject, mean, and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn, Unmindful tho’ a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn.

Yet let not this too much, my son, Disturb thy youthful breast; This partial view of human kind Is surely not the best! The poor, oppressed, honest man, Had never, sure, been born, Had there not been some recompense To comfort those that mourn. Burns.

God of my life, to thee I call, Afflicted at Thy feet I fall; When the great waterfloods prevail, Leave not my trembling heart to fail!

Did ever mourner plead with Thee, And Thou refuse that mourner’s plea? Does not Thy word still fix’d remain, That none shall seek Thy face in vain? Cowper.

We mourn for those who toil, The slave who ploughs the main, Or him who hopeless tills the soil Beneath the stripe and chain; For those who in the world’s hard race, O’erwearied and unblest, A host of restless phantoms chase,-- Why mourn for those who rest?

We mourn for those who sin, Bound in the tempter’s snare, Whom syren pleasure beckons in To prisons of despair, Whose hearts, by whirlwind passions torn, Are wrecked on folly’s shore,-- But why in sorrow should we mourn For those who sin no more?

We mourn for those who weep, Whom stern afflictions bend With anguish o’er the lowly sleep Of lover or of friend;-- But they to whom the sway Of pain and grief is o’er, Whose tears our God hath wiped away Oh! mourn for them no more! Mrs. Sigourney.

When mourning o’er some stone I bend, Which covers all that was a friend; And from his voice, his hand, his smile, Divides me for a little while; Thou, Saviour, mark’st the tears I shed, For Thou didst weep o’er Lazarus dead. R. Grant.

MURDER.

Jesus said, Thou shalt do no murder.--Matthew, xix. 18.

Whosoever hateth his brother, is a murderer; and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.--I. John, iii. 15.

The great King of kings Hath in the table of His law commanded That thou shalt do no murder; wilt thou then Spurn at His edict, and fulfil a man’s? Shakspere.

Other sins only speak; murder shrieks out. The element of water moistens the earth, But blood mounts upwards. John Webster.

Silently, swift as the lightning’s blast, A hand of fire across his temples passed; He ran, as in the terror of a dream, To quench his burning anguish in the stream; But, bending o’er the brink, the swelling wave Back to his eye the branded visage gave; As soon on murdered Abel durst he look: Yet power to fly his palsied limbs forsook; There turned to stone, for his presumptuous crime, A monument of wrath to latest time, Might Cain have stood; but mercy raised his head In prayer for help,--his strength returned, he fled. James Montgomery.

The murderer has no past But one eternal present. T. N. Talfourd.

He told how murderers walked the earth Beneath the curse of Cain; With crimson clouds before their eyes, And flames about their brain: For blood has left upon their souls Its everlasting stain! Thomas Hood.

Lo, on the everlasting stone engraved, “No murder shalt thou do.” From God to man The solemn law came down: by specious gloss Of subtle learning, seek not to evade The great command. Samuel Hayes.

MUSIC.

Sing unto Him a new song; play skilfully with a loud noise.--Psalm xxxiii. 3.

Praise Him with the sound of the trumpet: praise Him with the psaltery and harp.--Psalm cl. 3.

Cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music.--Daniel, iii. 5.

That chant to the sound of the viol, and invent to themselves instruments of music like David.--Amos, vi. 5.

How sour sweet music is When time is broke, and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men’s lives. Shakspere.

There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced choir below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness through mine ear Dissolve me into ecstacies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. Milton.

The church triumphant, and the church below, In songs of praise their present union show; Their joys are full; our expectation long, In life we differ, but we join the song. Angels and we, assisted by this art, May sing together, though we dwell apart. Waller.

Hark! the organs blow Their swelling notes ’round the cathedral’s dome, And grace the harmonious choir, celestial feast To pious ears, and med’cine of the mind! The thrilling trebles, and the manly base, Join in accordance meet, and with one voice All to the sacred subject suit their song; While in each breast sweet melancholy reigns, Angelically pensive, till the joy Improves and purifies. Smart.

Born on the swelling notes, our soul aspire, While solemn airs improve the sacred fire, And angels lean from Heaven to hear. Pope.

Should the well-meant songs I leave behind, With Jesus’ lovers an acceptance find, ’Twill heighten even the joys of Heaven, to know That in my verse the saints hymn God below. Bishop Ken.

The song of Zion is a tasteless thing, Unless when rising on a joyful wing, The soul can mix with the celestial bands, And give the strain the compass it demands. Cowper.

How shall the harp of poesy regain That old victorious tone of prophet-years-- A spell divine o’er guilt’s perturbing fears, And all the hovering shadows of the brain? Dark, evil wings took flight before the strain, And showers of holy quiet, with its fall, Sank on the soul:--O, who may now recall The mighty music’s consecrated reign?-- Spirit of God! whose glory once o’erhung A throne, the Ark’s dread cherubim between, So let Thy presence brood, though now unseen, O’er those two powers by whom the harp is strung-- Feeling and thought!--till the rekindled chords Give the long-buried tone back to immortal words. Mrs. Hemans.

O, surely melody from Heaven was sent To cheer the soul, when tired with human strife, To soothe the wayward heart by sorrow rent, And soften down the rugged road of life. Kirke White.

O, what a gentle ministrant is music To piety--to mild, to penitent piety! O, it gives plumage to the tardy prayer That lingers in our lazy, earthly air, And melts with it to Heaven. H. H. Milman.

Music, the tender child of rudest times, The gentle native of all lands and climes; Who hymns alike man’s cradle and his grave, Lulls the low cot, or peals along the nave. Mrs. Norton.

’Tis He that taught the lark, from earth upspringing, To warble forth his matin strain; And the pure stream, in liquid gushes singing, Gladly to bless the thirsty plain; And from the laden bee, when homeward winging Its tuneful flight doth not disdain, To hear the song of praise. There’s not a voice in Nature, but is telling (If we will hear that voice aright,) How much, when human hearts with love are swelling, His blessed bosom hath delight In our rejoicing lays. His love, that never slumbers, Taught thee those tuneful numbers. Bethune.

But O, her richest, dearest notes to man, In strains aerial over Bethlehem poured, When He, whose brightness is the light of Heaven, To earth descending, for a mortal’s form, Laid by His glory, save one radiant mark, That moved through space, and o’er the infant hung, He summoned Music to attend Him here, Announcing peace below! He called her, too, To sweeten that sad Supper, and to twine Her mantles round Him and His few grieved friends, To join their mournful spirits with the hymn, Ere to the Mount of Olives He went out So sorrowful. And now, His blessed word, A sacred pledge, is left to dying man, That at His second coming, in His power, Music shall still be with Him, and her voice Sound through the tombs, and wake the dead to life. Hannah F. Gould.

The solemn hymn to ancient music set In many a heart response of memory met. To me, it seemed departed Sabbaths hung Upon those notes, which gave the past a tongue To speak again in voices from the dead, And wake an echo from their silent bed. Elizabeth Bogart.

MYSTERY.

Behold I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.

In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump.--I. Corinthians, xv. 51, 52.

The mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest to his saints.--Colossians, i. 26.

Praying also for us, that God would open unto us a door of utterance, to speak the mystery of Christ.--Colossians, iv. 3.

With outstretched arms, Stern justice and soft-smiling love embrace, Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne, When seemed its majesty to need support, Or that, or man, inevitably lost: What, but the fathomless of love divine Could labour such expedient from despair, And rescue both? Both rescue? Both exalt! O, how are both exalted by the deed! The wondrous deed! or shall I call it more? A wonder in Omnipotence itself! A mystery no less to gods than men. Young.

Hail, Sovereign Lord! by all Thy works confess’d! By angels worship’d, and by saints address’d! Hail, Sovereign Lord! mysterious Wisdom! hail; In whom the Father and His fulness dwell. In whom the Godhead and the man unite, Stamp of His form, and glory of His light! In whom complete, in Thee completed shine, The God incarnate, and the man divine. Mysterious truth! withheld from reason’s eye; Outcast on earth! but loftiest on high! Hail, wondrous cross!--yet how more wondrous He That cross who bore!--Thyself its mystery!-- And borne for man!--a greater mystery still; So great Thy love, and love’s mysterious will! Peronnet.

That things to mortals are mysterious, Is not because the things themselves are dark, But the perceptions through which they are viewed. David Bates.

NAME.

Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.--Exodus, xx. 7.

Blessed be the name of the Lord from this time forth and for evermore.--Psalm cxiii. 2.

A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.--Proverbs, xxii. 1.

God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name.

That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.--Philippians, ii. 9, 10.

We wish our names eternally to live. Wild dream! which ne’er had haunted human thought, Had not our natures been eternal too. Instinct points out an interest in hereafter, But our blind reason sees not where it lies; Or seeing, gives the substance for the shade. Young.

In the fair book of life and grace, O may I find my name Recorded in some humble place, Beneath my Lord the Lamb. Watts.

I read His awful name emblazoned high, With golden letters, on the illumined sky; Nor less the mystic characters I see Wrought in each flower, inscribed on every tree: In every leaf that trembles to the breeze, I hear the voice of God among the trees. Mrs. Barbauld.

Wide he extends His royalties, and still the throne adorns With piety and mercy. Loved and feared. Twice twenty years, with equitable hand, He sways the sceptre; then in peace repose His ashes, but his name lives evermore. Charles Hoyle.

O blessed Father, righteous Lord! Within Thy book of life record My undeserving name; Teach me to know and do Thy will; My heart with holy longings fill, And heavenly love inflame. Bayly.

Alone I walk’d the ocean strand, A pearly shell was in my hand; I stoop’d and wrote upon the sand My name, the year, the day. As onward from the spot I pass’d, One lingering look I fondly cast; A wave came rolling high and fast, And wash’d my lines away.

And so, methought, ’twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me; A wave of dark oblivion’s sea Will sweep across the place Where I have trod the sandy shore Of time, and been to be no more; Of me--my day--the name I bore, To leave no track nor trace.

And yet with Him, who counts the sands, And holds the waters in His hands, I know a lasting record stands Inscribed against my name, Of all this mortal part has wrought-- Of all this thinking soul has thought, And from these fleeting moments caught For glory or for shame. Miss Gould.

The card-built house amused our infant age; The child was pleased; but is the man more sage? A breath could level childhood’s tottering toy: See manhood--effort, art, and time employ, To build that brittle name a whisper can destroy!

There is a Book where nought our name can spot, If we ourselves refuse to fix the blot; ’Tis kept by One that sets alike at nought The tale with malice or with flatt’ry fraught,-- He reads the heart, and sees the whisper in the thought. C. C. Colton.

Jesus, the spring of joys divine, Whence all our hopes and comforts flow: Jesus, no other name but Thine Can save us from eternal woe. Steele.

NATURE.

O Lord God of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto Thee?

Thou rulest the raging of the sea: when the waves thereof arise, Thou stillest them.

The heavens are Thine, the earth also is Thine: as for the world and the fulness thereof, Thou hast founded them.--Psalm lxxxix. 8, 9, 11.

The Lord is a great God, and a Great King above all Gods.

In His hand are the deep places of the earth; the strength of the hills is His also.

The sea is His, and he made it; and His hands formed the dry land.--Psalm xcv. 3, 4, 5.

Mine hand also hath laid the foundation of the earth, and my right hand hath spanned the heavens; when I call unto them they stand up together.--Isaiah, xlviii. 13.

From dearth to plenty, and from death to life, Is Nature’s progress, when she lectures man In heavenly truth; evincing as she makes The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God. Cowper.

Nature, employed in her allotted place, Is hand-maid to the purposes of Grace; By good vouchsafed, makes known superior good, And bliss not seen, by blessings understood. Cowper.

He looks abroad into the varied field Of Nature; and though poor, perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers; his to enjoy With a propriety that none can feel, But who, with filial confidence inspired, Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say, “My Father made them all!” Cowper.

By swift degrees the love of Nature works, And warms the bosom; till, at last sublimed To rapture and enthusiastic heat, We feel the present Deity, and taste The joy of God to see a happy world. Thomson.

From Nature’s constant or eccentric laws, The thoughtful soil this general inference draws-- That an effect must pre-suppose a cause. Prior.

All Nature is but art, unknown to thee; All chance, direction which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good. Pope.

Read Nature; Nature is a friend to truth: Nature is Christian; preaches to mankind; And bids dead matter aid us in our creed. Young.

How faint is language when we strive to sing The beauties of the Almighty hand! Each year upon our outward sense they win, With all increasing and still varying force; The seasons, days, months, years, incessant bring Contrasting changes! First seeds, leaves, expand As the young years with tender warmth begin, Then bloom and fruit, and life bursts from its source, In animated Nature, then decays, And with revolving time is still renew’d. Thus hope’s bright beam the distant scene displays Where no repelling shadow’s may intrude; So life may joyous be, and genius dwells In new awaked fires, and fresh enchantment spells. Sir E. Brydges.

Almighty Father! such the lesson is That in these cool and venerable woods, I con to-day; and firmer in my breast, By every syllable, these truths are fixed That Thou art the Beginning and the End Of all this glorious work, and that Thy love Pervades the universe; and that Thy smile Seeketh all hearts, to sun them; and that Thou, In every glorious thing we here behold, Declarest and reveal’st Thyself to be The Majesty Supreme--Eternal God. W. D. Gallagher.

Nature’s self, which is the breath of God, Or His pure Word by miracle revealed. Wordsworth.

Nature, when sprung thy glorious frame? --My Maker called me, and I came. J. Montgomery.

Live thou with God in Nature: never falter In thy communings with Him. Be Like those blest birds we read of in the Psalter, Who found a borne from peril free In God’s own house, and nestled near His altar, Making it ring with melody. That temple stands no more, But Nature standeth still; God’s holy presence Abideth with us, and the offering Of thankful joy to Him whose perfect essence Is perfect love, our glowing lips may bring, Till this brief life is o’er; And in a brighter, better, Our spirits know no fetter. Bethune.

Never have the works of Nature Yet to mortal man revealed, How his much offended Maker May to him be reconciled.

Flower, nor tree, nor rock, nor mountain, Ever yet have showed the way, Ever told him of a Fountain That could wash his guilt away.

Man could never yet discover, From the sky, the earth, the sea, When his days on earth are over, Where or what his state should be.

But the page of inspiration Casts a light upon the whole, Bringing peace and consolation To the never-dying soul. Alexander Letham.

NIGHT.

Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge.--Psalm xix. 2.

Thou makest darkness, and it is night.--Psalm civ. 20.

If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.

Yea, the darkness hideth not from Thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to Thee.--Psalm cxxxix. 11, 12.

One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine, And light us deep into the Deity; How boundless in magnificence is night! O what a confluence of ethereal fires, From urns unnumber’d, down the steep of heaven, Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! Nor tarries there, I feel it at my heart. My heart, at once, it humbles, and exalts; Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies. Who sees it unexalted? or unaw’d? Who sees it, and can stop at what is seen? Material offspring of Omnipotence! Inanimate, all animating birth! Work worthy Him who made it! worthy praise! All praise! praise more than human! nor denied Thy praise divine!--But tho’ man, drown’d in sleep, Withholds his homage, not alone I wake; Bright legions swarm unseen, and sing, unheard By mortal ear, the glorious Architect, In this his universal temple hung With lustres, with innumerable lights, That shed religion on the soul; at once The temple and the preacher! O how loved It calls devotion! genuine growth of night! Young.

The glorious sun is gone, And the gathering darkness of night comes on. Like a curtain from God’s kind hand it flows, To shade the couch where His children repose. Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright, And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night. Henry Ware, Jun.

And still as day concludes in night To break again with new-born light, God’s wondrous bounty let me find, With still a more enlightened mind; When Grace and Love in one agree, Grace from God and Love from me; Grace that will from Heaven inspire, Love that seals it in desire. Parnell.

Now, with religious awe, the farewell light Blends with the solemn colouring of the night. Wordsworth.

Ye quenchless stars! so eloquently bright; Untroubled sentries of the shadowy night, While half the world is lapp’d in blissful dreams, And round the lattice creep your fairy beams, How sweet to gaze upon those placid eyes, In lambent beauty looking from the skies! And when, oblivious of the world, we stray At dead of night along some noiseless way, How the heart mingles with a moon-lit hour, And feels from heaven a sympathetic power! See! not a cloud careers yon pathless deep Of molten azure,--mute as lovely sleep; Full in her pallid light the moon presides, Shrined in a halo, mellowing as she rides; And far around, the forest and the stream Wear the rich garment of her woven beam. The lull’d winds, too, are sleeping in her caves, No stormy prelude rolls upon the waves; Nature is hush’d, as if her works ador’d, Still’d into homage of her living Lord! R. Montgomery.

O, blessed Night! that comes to rich and poor Alike; bringing us dreams that lure Our hearts to One above! Henry B. Hirst.

Clouds and thick darkness are thy throne, Thy wonderful pavilion; O, dart from thence a shining ray, And then my midnight shall be day! Thomas Flatman.

OBEDIENCE--DISOBEDIENCE.

For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.--Romans, v. 19.

Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness?--Romans, vi. 16.

Though He were a Son, yet learned He obedience by the things which He suffered.--Hebrews, v. 8.

The will of heav’n Be done in this and all things! I obey. Shakspere.

Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top Of Oreb or of Sinai, didst inspire That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed In the beginning, how the heavens and earth Rose out of Chaos. Or if Sion hill Delight thee more, and Siloa’s brook that flow’d Fast by the oracle of God; I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above th’ Aonian mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme. And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Before all temples, th’ upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou know’st: Thou, from the first Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad’st it pregnant. What in me is dark Illumine; what is low raise and support; That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men. Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from Thy view, Nor the deep tract of hell; say first what cause Moved our grand parents, in that happy state Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off From their Creator, and transgress His will. For one restraint, lords of the world besides? Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? Th’ infernal serpent: he it was whose guile, Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived The mother of mankind, what time his pride Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host Of rebel angels; by whose aid, aspiring To set himself in glory ’bove his peers, He trusted to have equalled the Most High, If He opposed; and, with ambition’s aim Against the throne and monarchy of God, Raised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power Hurled headlong flaming from th’ ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition; there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy th’ Omnipotent to arms. Milton.

Nor can this be But by fulfilling that which thou didst want-- Obedience to the law of God, imposed On penalty of death. Milton.

Flatter not folly with an idle faith, Nor let earth stand upon her own desert; But show what wisdom in the Scripture saith The fruitful hand doth shew the fruitful heart; Believe the word, and thereto bend thy will, And teach obedience for a blessed skill. Nicholas Breton.

Other bond have I None with the Father, but obedience whole. The Son returns through all eternity Entire obedience to the Father’s will Inscrutable, devout and finally-- Relying on his love, that shall fulfil All gracious purposes--and so became The Mediator to all creatures, till God shall be all in all. J. A. Heraud.

OFFERING.

And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord.

And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering.

But unto Cain and to his offering He had not respect.--Genesis, iv. 3, 4, 5.

So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time, without sin unto salvation.--Hebrews, ix. 8.

For by one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.--Hebrews, x. 14.

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thy aid! Star of the east the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining, Low lies His bed with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all!

Say, shall we yield Him in costly devotion, Odours of Edom, and offerings divine; Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine.

Vainly we offer each ample oblation, Vainly with gold would His favour secure, Richer by far is the heart’s adoration; Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. Bishop Heber.

What offering can I bring to Thee Which may find favour in Thine eye? Is it some work of charity? Some form of prayer on bended knee, Some spoil of earthly treasury, That toil can win, or gold can buy? Nay, all were worthless, all were vain As that oblation made by Cain, If a sad spirit, and a contrite heart, Form of the sacrifice no part. Egone.

ONE.

That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.--John, xvii. 21.

One Lord, one faith, one baptism.--Ephesians, iv. 5.

One baptism, and one faith, One lord, below, above! The fellowship of Zion hath One only watchword,--Love. From different temples though it rise, One song ascendeth to the skies.

Our Sacrifice is one; One priest before the throne,-- The crucified, the risen Son, Redeemer, Lord alone! And sighs from contrite hearts that spring, Our chief, our choicest offering.

Oh, why should they who love One Gospel to unfold, Who look for one bright home above, On earth, be strange and cold? Why, subjects of the Prince of Peace. In strife abide, and bitterness?

Oh, may that holy prayer, His tenderest and his last, The utterance of his latest care, Ere to his throne he pass’d,-- No longer unfulfill’d remain The world’s offence, the people’s stain!

Head of thy church beneath, The catholic,--the true,-- On her disjointed members breathe, Her broken frame renew! Then shall thy perfect will be done When Christians love and live as one. E. Robinson.

O Thou Eternal One! whose presence bright All space doth occupy, all motion guide, Unchanged through time’s all-devastating flight, Thou only God! From the Russian.

PARADISE.

And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto Thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.--Luke, xxiii. 43.

To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God.--Revelation, ii. 7.

So on he fares, and to the border comes Of Eden, whose delicious Paradise Now nearer crowns with her enclosure green, As with a rural mound, the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hoary sides, With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, Access denied: and overhead up-grew Insuperable height of loftiest shade, Cedar and pine, and fir, and branching palm; A sylvan scene! And as the ranks ascend, Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung; Which to our general sire gave prospect large Into his nether empire neighb’ring round. Milton.

Say’st thou there was no “Paradise of God?” No happy, sinless state of early man? Ask all the ages past, each record scan, And see if always cursed was this now barren sod. Go ask the Greek--he tells of Golden age, When the god-governed earth was heavenly pure; When never death, nor woes men now endure Had entered here, nor hate, nor guile, nor rage. The eastern Magian speaks of earliest days, When holy Oromasdes reign’d o’er man: The far Egyptian tells Osiris’ praise, Governing all in peace, ere rude revolt began. And wilt thou God’s own Paradise deny, When e’en the heathen tales affirm it ceaselessly? Ann Flinders.

Lord I will take no comfort but of Thee! I had an earthly plant--a pleasant vine, From whose dear grapes I pressed delightful wine, Which made my heart as merry as could be. Thine anger hath cut down that cheerful tree; Or at the least, (for yet I but divine,) Thou hast cut off its joyful fruit from me, And made its precious shade no longer mine. Shall I then murmur? If my road henceforth Lies but before me wearisome and bare, And no green garland twined amid my hair Will guard, as it was wont, my tortured eyes, What then? The sweeter after this stripped earth Will be the shady rest of Paradise. Thomas Burbidge.

The God of nature and of grace In all His work appears; His goodness through the earth we trace, His grandeur in the spheres.

Behold this fair and fertile globe, By Him in wisdom planned; ’Twas He who girded, like a robe, The ocean round the land.

Lift to the firmament your eye, Thither His path pursue; His glory boundless as the sky, O’erwhelms the wandering view.

The forests in His strength rejoice, Hark! on the evening breeze, As once of old, the Lord God’s voice Is heard among the trees.

His blessings fall in plenteous showers Upon the lap of earth, That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers, And rings with infant mirth.

If God hath made the world so fair, Where sin and death abound; How beautiful, beyond compare, Will Paradise be found! James Montgomery.

PARDON.

And Moses said unto the Lord, Pardon, I beseech Thee, the iniquity of this people according unto the greatness of Thy mercy, and as Thou hast forgiven this people, from Egypt even until now.

And the Lord said, I have pardoned according to thy word.--Numbers, xiv. 13, 19, 20.

Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.--Isaiah, lv. 7.

But infinite in pardon is our judge. Milton.

What can we better do than prostrate fall Befort Him reverent, and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears Watering the ground? Milton.

When with deep agony His heart was racked, Not for Himself the tear-drop dewed His cheek, For them He wept, for them to Heaven He prayed,-- His persecutors--“Father pardon them; They know not what they do.” Charles Lamb.

O Time! O Life! ye were not made For languid dreaming in the shade, Nor sinful hearts to moor all day By lily-isle, or grassy bay, Nor drink at noontide’s balmy hours Sweet opiates from the meadow-flowers. O give me grace, dear Lord! to win Thy pardon for my youthful sin, For all the days, in woods embowered, When currents of sweet thought o’erpowered With pleasant force the sense of duty, And gentle nature’s harmless beauty, Too much adored, gave birth to throngs Of joys effeminate, and songs Which sprung from earth, and, like a breeze, Died wantonly among the trees, Without a moral or a mirth Above the passing bliss of earth! Frederic W. Faber.

PARENTS.

Children, obey your parents in all things: for this is well pleasing unto the Lord.--Colossians, iii. 20.

Honour thy parents to prolong thine end; With them, though for a truth, do not contend; Whoever makes his father’s heart to bleed, Shall have a son that will avenge the deed. Thomas Randolph.

Not those alone are parents, to whose cares The opening buds of human life are given; Truth, Beauty, Love, have each unnumbered heirs, And Earth itself is but the child of Heaven.

Nature repeats herself; and human thought Mirrored in deeds, becomes more truly real: Thus only on the web of life are wrought The glowing pictures of the world ideal.

The labourer who embowers his cottage round With tasteful gifts--his honest hand the donor, Makes of that little spot of cultured ground, A pleasing transcript of its joyful owner.

The matron, toiling with unselfish aim To bless her little band of cherished creatures, But mounts the picture, from whose shining frame For ever beam her dear, benignant features.

Thought is the favoured child of thoughtful ones, As heaven is mirrored in the quiet waters; The statesman’s high achievements are his sons, And the sweet poet’s lays his tuneful daughters.

The sculptor, bending o’er his marble child, Models himself in fixed, enduring beauty; The painter’s soul hath from the canvass smiled, Breathing deep tones of passion or of duty.

None shall die childless; and the frailest one Of all the living crowds around us pressing, May, like the Eternal Father, give his son To be humanity’s perpetual blessing. Mrs. F. H. Cooke.

PASSIONS.

We also are men of like passions with you, and preach unto you that ye should turn from those vanities unto the living God.--Acts, xiv. 15.

What profits us, that we from heaven derive A soul immortal, and with looks erect Survey the stars, if, like the brutal kind We follow where our passions lead the way? Claudian.

While passions glow, the heart like heated steel Takes each impression, and is worked at pleasure. Young.

The gales Of pleasure haply waft him, and he bounds Exultingly upon the flattering main; Nor heeds the inexperienced boy the hints Of prudence, and the counsel of the wise; He steers impetuously through dancing waves And oceans of illusive bliss, till now, Crashing upon the keel, his vessel lies A total wreck upon th’ undreaded reef! “Avoid the shoal!” the sacred preacher cries, The volumes of the dead and living, ope The monitory page, alas, in vain! If passion hold the helm, and pleasure fill The swelling sail, though reason, conscience, say “Avoid the shoal!” the voyager is lost. Carrington.

Thou must chain thy passions down; Well to serve, but ill to sway, Like the fire they must obey. They are good, in subject state, To strengthen, warm, and animate; But if once we let them reign, They sweep with desolating train, ’Till they but leave a hated name, A ruined soul, and blackened fame. Eliza Cook.

Passions, indulged beyond a certain bound, Lead to a precipice, and plunge in woe The heedless agent. George Bally.

PAST.

That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past.--Ecclesiastes, iii. 15.

The past lives o’er again, In its effects, and to the guilty spirit The ever-frowning present is its image. Coleridge.

Who bears no trace of passion’s evil force? Who shuns thy sting, O, terrible Remorse?-- Who does not cast On the thronged pages of his memory’s book, At times, a sad, and half-reluctant look, Regretful of the Past? J. G. Whittier.

Full many a mighty name Lurks in thy depths, unuttered, unrevered; With thee are silent fame, Forgotten arts, and wisdom disappeared.

Thine for a space are they-- Yet shalt thou yield thy treasures up at last; Thy gates shall yet give way, Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable Past!

All that of good and fair Has gone into thy womb from earliest time, Shall then come forth, to wear The glory and the beauty of its prime. W. C. Bryant.

Whene’er upon the past I gaze, Though thorns and clouds appear, Rich gifts from Heaven demand my praise, Gifts to the heart most dear, The strong One’s arm, the friend above, The fulness of Redeeming Love.

Through childhood’s hours and youthful snares, That Arm my footsteps led, That friend amid the heart’s own cares, The balm of pity shed, And raised my drooping soul to feel How deep the wound Love’s power can heal. W. J. Brock.

PASTOR.

I will give you pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding.--Jeremiah, iii. 15.

Woe be unto the pastors that destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! saith the Lord.--Jeremiah, xxiii. 1.

He was a shepherd, and no mercenary. And though he holy was and virtuous, He was to sinful men full piteous; His words were strong, but not with anger fraught; A love benignant he discreetly taught. To draw mankind to Heaven by gentleness And good example, was his business. But if that any one were obstinate, Whether he were of high or low estate, Him would he sharply check with altered mien: A better parson there was nowhere seen. He paid no court to pomps and reverence, Nor spiced his conscience at his soul’s expense; But Jesus’ love, which owns no pride or pelf, He taught--but first he followed it himself. Chaucer.

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whilst, like a puff’d and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own road. Shakspere.

A genial hearth, a hospitable board, And a refined rusticity, belong To the neat mansion, where, his flock among, The learned pastor dwells, their watchful lord. Though meek and patient as a sheathed sword, Though pride’s least lurking thought appears a wrong To human kind; though peace be on his tongue, Gentleness in his heart; can earth afford Such genuine state, pre-eminence so free, As when, array’d in Christ’s authority, He from the pulpit lifts his awful hand; Conjures, implores, and labours all he can For re-subjecting to divine command The stubborn spirit of rebellious man? Wordsworth.

He is a faithful pastor of the poor;-- He thinks not of himself; his Master’s words, “Feed, feed my sheep,” are ever at his heart, The Cross of Christ is aye before his eyes. Grahame.

So glorious let Thy pastors shine, That, by their speaking lives, the world may learn First, filial duty, then divine; That sons to parents, all to Thee may turn. Keble.

Of the deep learning in the schools of yore, The reverend pastor hath a golden stock; Yet, with a vain display of useless lore, Or sapless doctrine, never will he mock The better cravings of his simple flock; But faithfully their humble shepherd guides Where streams eternal gush from Calvary’s rock; For well he knows, not learning’s purest tides Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul abides. Mrs. Little.

By weakest ministers, the Almighty thus Makes known His sacred will, and shows His power; By Him inspired, they speak with urgent tongue Authoritative, while the illumined breast Heaves with unwonted strength; high as their theme, Their great conceptions rise in rapturous flow, As quick the ready organs catch the thought, And, in such strains as science could not teach, Bear it, in all its radiance, to the heart; The listening throng there feel its bless’d effect, And deep conviction glows in every breast. Charles Jenner.

Shepherd of Israel, Thou dost keep With constant care, Thy humble sheep, By Thee inferior pastors rise To feed our souls and bless our eyes.

Fed by their active, tender care, Healthful may all Thy sheep appear, And by their fair example led, The way to Zion’s pastures tread. Doddridge.

PATIENCE.

In your patience possess ye your souls.--Luke, xxi. 19.

And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

And patience, experience; and experience, hope.--Romans, v. 3, 4.

Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an example of suffering affliction, and of patience.

Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.--James, v. 10, 11.

Many are the sayings of the wise, In ancient and in modern books unroll’d, Extolling patience as the truest fortitude; And to the bearing well of all calamities, All chances incident to man’s frail life, Consolitaries writ With studied argument, and much persuasion sought, Lenient of grief and anxious thought: But with th’ afflicted in his pangs their sound Little prevails, or rather seems a tune Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint, Unless he feel within Some source of consolation from above, Secret refreshings, that repair his strength And fainting spirits uphold. Milton.

Give me care, By thankful patience, to prevent despair: Fit me to bear whate’er Thou shalt assign; I kiss the rod, because the rod is Thine. Francis Quarles.

Patience and resignation are the pillars Of human peace on earth. Young.

Like some well-fashioned arch thy patience stood, And purchased strength from each increasing load. Goldsmith.

A dungeon, dark and drear As death, but in its cold and gloomy depths I see a form of beauty, round whose locks A glory plays, that lights the dungeon with A quivering lustre--she is stretched upon The damp cold earth, her head is pillowed on One arm, the while its fellow presses to Her heart a holy volume. O’er her eyes The dove of peace seems brooding, while deep sleep Heaves the long ringlets of the golden hair That cluster on her neck, and sweep the earth: A smile is lingering on her placid lip, As though she dreamt of heaven, the while her brow, As that same heaven, arched and calm, shoots forth A halo--in her breast a dove is nestling, And angel wings are spread to guard her dreams From evil--favoured one of God--who art thou?

’Tis patience, the beloved of Heaven! the meek, The mild, the lowly, and the gentle patience, Whose eye looks up to God; and ne’er unbends Its fixed and placid gaze to look upon The thorns that tear her bleeding breast; who stands Pale, calm, unmoved amid the storms of life; Whose soul weeps not for heart’s torture--patience, The meek-eyed pilgrim of the earth, that child Of heaven--perfection’s crown. C. L. Reddell.

For God, who binds the broken heart, And dries the mourner’s tear, If faith and patience be their part, Will unto these be near.

Let such but say “Thy will be done!” And He who Jesus raised, Will qualify them, through His Son, To say “Thy name be praised!” Bernard Barton.

When, in justice, he appals us By the threat of endless pain, Sink not--soon His mercy calls us To His pardoning arms again. Father! O, with patience bless us, Till each seeming ill be past: Let whatever gloom oppress us, All must end in light at last. Thomas Ward.

PEACE.

Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.--Psalm xxxvii. 37.

Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.

Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.--Proverbs, iii. 13, 17.

Lord, thou wilt ordain peace for us.--Isaiah, xxvi. 12.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.--Matthew, v. 9.

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.--Luke, ii. 14.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.--John, xiv. 27.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace.--Galatians, v. 22.

The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.--Philippians, iv. 7.

No war or battle’s sound Was heard the world around: The idle spear and shield were high up hung, The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood, The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; And kings sat still, with awe-full eye As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light, His reign of peace upon the earth began: The winds, with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kissed, Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sat brooding on the charmed wave. Milton.

No more shall nation against nation rise, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes, Nor fields with gleaming steel be covered o’er, The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more; But useless lances into scythes shall bend, And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. Pope.

My soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars; There above noise and danger Sweet peace sits crown’d with smiles; And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend, And oh! my soul, awake; Did in pure love descend To die here for my sake. If thou canst get but thither, There grows the flower of peace; The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease Leave then thy foolish ranges; For none can thee secure, But one who never changes, Thy God, thy life, thy cure. Henry Vaughan.

Sure the last end Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit! Night dews fall not more calmly on the ground, Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft. Blair.

Hear the last words the believer saith. He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends; There is peace in his eye that upward bends; There is peace in his calm confiding air; For his last thoughts are God’s, his last words, prayer. Henry Ware, Jun.

“Peace” was the word our Saviour breathed, When from our world His steps withdrew; The gift He to His friends bequeathed, With Calvary and the Cross in view:-- Redeemer! With adoring love Our spirits take Thy rich bequest, The watchword of the host above, The passport to their realm of rest. Mrs. Sigourney.

Oh, peace; thou source and soul of social life, Beneath whose calm inspiriting influence, Science his views enlarges; art refines, And swelling Commerce opens all her ports; Blest be the man divine who gives us thee; Who bids the trumpet hush its horrid clang, Nor blow the giddy nations into rage. Who sheathes the murderous blade, the deadly gun Into the well-piled armoury returns; And every vigour from the work of death To grateful industry converting, makes The country flourish and the city smile. Thomson.

When groves by moonlight silence keep, And winds the vexed waves release, And fields are hushed, and cities sleep,-- Lord! is not this the hour of Peace?

When Infancy at Evening tries By turns to climb each Parent’s knees, And gazing meets their raptured eyes,-- Lord! is not this the hour of Peace?

In golden pomp when autumn smiles; And every vale its rich increase In man’s full barns exulting piles;-- Lord! is not this the hour of Peace?

When Mercy points where Jesus bleeds, And Faith beholds thine anger cease; And Hope to black despair succeeds;-- This, Father! this alone is Peace! Gisborne.

Wherefore from His throne exalted, Came He on this earth to dwell; All His pomp an humble manger-- All His court a narrow cell? “From that world to bring to this, Peace, which of all earthly blisses Is the brightest, purest bliss.” Violante Di Ceo.

Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease! And like a bell with solemn sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say “Peace!”

Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of war’s great organ shakes the skies; But, beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holiest melodies of love arise. Longfellow.

“Peace,” shall the world outwearied ever see Its universal reign? Will states, will kings, Put down these murderous and unholy things, Which fill the earth with blood and misery? Will nations learn that love--not enmity-- Is heaven’s first lesson--which beneath the wings Of mercy, brooding over land and sea, Fills earth with joy by its soft ministerings? ’Twere a sad prospect--’twere a vista dark As midnight--could this wearied mortal eye, Through the dim mists that veil futurity, Discern not that heaven-bright though distant spark, Lighted by prophecy, whose ray sublime Sheds a soft gleam of hope o’er the dull path of time.

I hate that noisy drum, it is a sound That tells of war, of bondage, and I blush That liberty had ever cause to rush Into a warrior’s arms; that right e’er found Asylum in the furious field. Not so The holy crowns of genuine glory grow; Not there should they who bear the badge serene Of Him who was the Prince of Peace, be seen; Can such His faithful followers be?--Oh no! His laurels are not drenched in blood,--but green And beautiful as spring:--His arms are love And mercy and forgiveness; and with them He rules the nations’ mighty destinies And gently leads us to our homes above. Dr. Bowring.

If there be sore strife and care, In the world below, Restless spirits never there Could chase away their woe, Let the storm that raves about us, By our faith be kept without us; Let us from our troubles cease, Power and conquest dwell in peace. J. Gostick.

PERFECTION.

Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined.--Psalm l. 2.

O when wilt thou come unto me? I will walk within my house with a perfect heart.--Psalm ci. 2.

I have seen an end of all perfection.--Psalm cxix. 96.

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.--Matthew, v. 48.

Give glory to the Son, who came Clothed in our fleshy, mortal frame; Who bore our sins, vouchsafed to give Himself to die, that we might live; Who--holy, harmless, undefiled, Was patient--spurned, was dumb--reviled; Who, in the agonies of death, Poured for His foes His parting breath; Was perfect God and man in one: Give glory to the Incarnate Son! Barton.

Behold the beauty of His matchless life In deed and thought connecting earth and heaven:-- Call every virtue which the mind conceives, Or view perfection in sublime excess Of glory, such as dreams of God pourtray, And what can emulate the Prince of Peace! R. Montgomery.

Oh! who shall paint them--let the sweetest tone That ever trembled on the harps of Heaven, Be discord; let the chanting seraphim, Whose anthem is eternity, be dumb; For praise and wonder, adoration,--all Melt into muteness, ere they soar to Thee, Thou sole Perfection!--Theme of countless worlds! R. Montgomery.

Oh, Thou, who all perfection art! How shall my soul approach to Thee? How can my black, polluted heart Endure Thy searching scrutiny? Only through grace of Him by whom The just avenging arm is stayed; By whose descent into the tomb Was im_perfection perfect_ made. Egone.

PESTILENCE--PLAGUE.

And the Lord said unto Moses, Rise up early in the morning, and stand before Pharoah, and say unto him, Thus saith the Lord God of the Hebrews, Let my people go, that they may serve me.

For I will at this time send all my plagues upon thine heart, and upon thy servants, and upon thy people; that thou mayest know that there is none like me in all the earth.

For now I will stretch out my hand, that I may smite thee and thy people with pestilence; and thou shalt be cut off from the earth.--Exodus, ix. 13, 14, 15.

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most high shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.

There shall no evil befal thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.--Psalm xci. 1, 3, 10.

A terrible change is come; I see a cloud Brooding above the valley like the wing Of a destroying angel dark and dread; And in its awful depth I see a brow On which is stamped in fiery characters The one word--Plague. The beds of dewy flowers Are pressed by loathsome forms of dark disease, Putrid though living; some have dragged their weak And fainting limbs to where the pure stream glides, But sink ere they can quench their burning thirst In its cool waters; some bow down their heads In prayer, but the unfinished words are quelled By groans of agony; some wait for death With stubborn pride that scorns to murmur; some Rave of cool forests and of shady rivers, In their delirious pain; the dead and dying Tenant that valley only. C. L. Reddell.

From the sword at noonday wasting, From the noisome pestilence, In the depth of midnight blasting, God shall be thy sure defence.

Thee, though winds and waves be swelling, God, thine hope, shall bear through all, Plague shall not come nigh thy dwelling, Thee no evil shall befall. J. Montgomery.

PHILOSOPHY.

Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.--Colossians, ii. 8.

Philosophy consists not In airy schemes, or idle speculation; The rule and conduct of all social life Is her great province. Not in lonely cells Obscure she lurks; but holds her heavenly light To senates and to kings, to guide their councils, And teach them to reform and bless mankind. All policy but her’s is false and rotten; All valour not conducted by her precepts Is a destroying fury sent from hell, To plague unhappy man, and ruin nations. Thomson.

What is an high-praised philosophy, But books of poesy in prose compil’d, Far more delightful than they fruitful be, Witty appearance, guile that is beguil’d; Corrupting minds much rather than directing, Th’ alloy of duty, and our pride’s erecting.

For, as among physicians, what they call Word magic, never helpeth the disease, Which drugs and diet ought to deal withal, And by their real working give us ease; So these word-sellers have no power to cure The passions which corrupted lives endure. Sir Falke Greville.

In its sublime research, philosophy May measure out the ocean deep--may count The sands or the sun’s rays--but God! for Thee There is no weight nor measure:--none can mount Up to Thy mysteries: Reason’s brightest spark, Though kindled at Thy light, in vain would try To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in eternity. From the Russian.

With thee, serene Philosophy, with thee And thy bright garland, let me crown my song! Effusive source of evidence and truth! A lustre shedding o’er the ennobled mind Stronger than summer noon; and pure as that Whose mild vibrations soothe the parted soul, New to the dawning of celestial day. Hence through her nourished powers, enlarged by thee She springs aloft, with elevated pride, Above the tangling mass of low desires That bind the fluttering crowd; and, angel-winged, The heights of science and of virtue gains, Where all is calm and clear; with nature round, Or in the starry regions, or the abyss, To reason and to fancy’s eye displayed: The first up-tracing from the dreary void, The chain of causes and effects to Him, The world-producing Essence, who alone Possesses being; while the last receives The whole magnificence of Heaven and earth, And every beauty, delicate or bold, Obvious or more remote, with livelier sense, Diffusive painted on the rapid mind. Thomson.

Survey the magnet’s sympathetic love, That woos the yielding needle; contemplate Th’ attractive amber’s power, invisible Ev’n to the mental eye; or when the blow Sent from th’ electric sphere assaults thy frame, Show me the hand that dealt it!--Baffled here By His Omnipotence, Philosophy Slowly her thoughts inadequate revolves, And stands with all His circling wonders round her, Like heavy Saturn, in th’ ethereal space Begirt with an inexplicable ring. Smart.

Sublime Philosophy! Thou are the patriarch’s ladder, reaching heaven, And bright with beckoning angels; but, alas! We see thee, like the patriarch, but in dreams, By the first step, dull slumbering on the earth. Bulwer.

PILGRIMAGE.

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.

For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.--Hebrews, xi. 13, 14.

Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul.--I. Peter, ii. 11.

Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon; My scrip of joy, immortal diet; My bottle of salvation; My gown of glory, (hope’s true gage,) And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body’s only balmer Whilst my soul, like a quiet Palmer, Travelleth towards the land of Heaven; No other balm will there be given. Sir W. Raleigh.

From darkness, here, and dreariness, We ask not full repose; Only be Thou at hand to bless Our trial hour of woes. Is not the pilgrim’s toil o’erpaid By the clear rill and palmy shade? And see we not up earth’s dark glade, The gate of Heaven unclose? Keble.

While his staff the traveller handles In his weary journeying, Thorns may tear his dusty sandals, Fangs his tender feet may sting; But were life devoid of pain, Bliss were proffered man in vain. Look aloft, where light is breaking Through this doubt-enveloped sky-- Forward leap, the joy partaking, Of a higher destiny. Lift thy staff, and move apace In the pilgrim-thronging race. T. G. Spear.

There is a light on the hills, and the valley is past! Ascend, happy pilgrim! thy labours are o’er! The sunshine of Heaven around thee is cast, And thy weak, doubting footsteps can falter no more. On, pilgrim! that hill richly circled with rays Is Zion! Lo, there is the “city of saints!” And the beauties, the glories, that region displays, Inspiration’s own language imperfectly paints. Mrs. Opie.

Pilgrim, burden’d with thy sin, Come the way to Zion’s gate, There, till mercy speaks within, Knock, and weep, and watch, and wait. Knock--he knows the sinner’s cry; Weep--he loves the mourner’s tears; Watch--for saving grace is nigh; Wait--till heavenly grace appears. Hark, it is thy Saviour’s voice, “Welcome pilgrim to thy rest.” Now within the gate rejoice, Safe, and own’d, and bought, and blest. Safe--from all the lures of vice; Own’d--by joys the contrite know; Bought--by love and life the price; Blest--the mighty debt we owe. Holy pilgrim what for thee, In a world like this remain? From thy guarded breast shall flee Fear, and shame, and doubt and pain. Fear--the hope of heaven shall flee; Shame--from glory’s view retire; Doubt--in full belief shall die; Pain--in endless joy expire. Crabbe.

We journey through a vale of tears By many a cloud o’ercast; And worldly cares, and worldly fears, Go with us to the last! Not to the last--Thy word hath said, Could we but read aright; Poor Pilgrim! lift, in hope, thy head; At eve there shall be light. Bernard Barton.

PITY.

To him that is afflicted pity should be shewed from his friend.--Job, v. 14.

Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.--Psalm ciii. 13.

He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord.--Proverbs, xix. 17.

Genius of pity! exercise thy sway, And with thy soft emotions soothe each breast; May every heart thy kind dictates obey, And be thy humanizing pow’r confess’d!

May sweet Benevolence, auspicious fair, Vouchsafe thy cheering progress to attend, And smiling Charity, with constant care, Where’er distress appears, her succour lend.

In the drear season of embitter’d woe, Oh! may the sons of opulence and ease Feel pity’s genial animating glow, Nor suffer avarice their soul to freeze!

May they, whene’er the child of want is seen, Dispense their warm benevolence around,-- The hapless suff’rer from misfortune screen, Nor to a narrow sphere their mercies bound!

Not to the wanderer their gifts confine, But the sad roofs of silent woe explore, Where modest mourners secretly repine, And, unsoliciting, their wants deplore.

Then shall the orphan’s and the widow’s prayer, To Heav’n, with thanks for such relief, be made; The welcome boon with grateful hearts they share, And bless the donor for his timely aid. Anon.

Oh! do not seek the mirthful throng, But find where friendship lingers, And feel the strings, untouched so long, Swept o’er by Pity’s fingers. Though not a star has lent its light, Who knows what may be dawning? The mists that robe the earth at night Precede the brightest morning! J. Burbidge.

PLEASING--PLEASURE.

The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him.--Psalm cxlvii. 11.

He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man: he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich.--Proverbs, xxi. 17.

Hear now this, thou that art given to pleasures, that dwellest carelessly, evil shall come upon thee.--Isaiah, xlvii. 8, 11.

Walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work.--Colossians, i. 10.

So we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts.--I. Thessalonians, ii. 4.

Admirers of false pleasures must sustain The weight and sharpness of ensuing pain. John Beaumont.

Short is the course of every lawless pleasure-- Grief, like a shade, on all its footsteps waits, Scarce visible in joy’s meridian height; But, downwards as its blaze declining speeds, The dwarfish shadow to a giant spreads. Milton.

Pleasures are few, and fewer we enjoy; Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and coy; We strive to grasp it, with our utmost skill, Still it eludes us, and it glitters still: If seized at last, compute your mighty gains; What is it but rank poison in your veins? Young.

Pleasure is good, and man for pleasure made; But pleasure full of glory as of joy; Pleasure which neither blushes nor expires.

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Death treads in pleasure’s footsteps round the world, When pleasure treads the paths which reason shuns. Young.

Pleasure, admitted in undue degree, Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.

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Peace follows virtue as its sure reward; And pleasure brings as surely in her train Remorse, and sorrow, and vindictive pain. Cowper.

Pleasures, like wonders, quickly lose their price, When reason or experience makes us wise. Bishop King.

If the soft hand of winning pleasure leads By living waters and through flowery meads, Where all is smiling, tranquil, and serene; And vernal beauty paints the flattering scene; Oh! teach me to elude each latent snare, And whisper to my sliding heart--Beware! With caution let me hear the syren’s voice, And doubtful with a trembling heart rejoice. Mrs. Barbauld.

Graces withered by too warm a beam, May spread and flourish in the dreary shade: And pleasure, to voluptuous guilt denied, May bloom ambrosial from affliction’s thorn. George Bally.

All these fond pleasures, if fond things Deserve so good a name, Should not seduce a noble mind To stain itself with shame. The time shall come when all these same, Which seem so rich with joy, Like tyrants, shall torment thy mind, And vex thee with annoy. Brandon.

I ask Thee for the daily strength, To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life While keeping at Thy side; Content to fill a little space, If Thou be glorified. And if some things I do not ask, In my cup of blessing be, I would have my spirit fill’d the more With grateful love to Thee-- More careful--not to serve Thee much, But to please Thee perfectly. A. L. Waring.

That pleasure is of all Most bountiful and kind, That fades not straight, but leaves A living joy behind. Campion.

POVERTY.

The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich: He bringeth low, and lifteth up.--I. Samuel, ii. 7.

Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me;

Lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.--Proverbs, xxx. 8, 9.

Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God.--Luke, vi. 20.

In a great trial of affliction, the abundance of their joy, and their deep poverty, abounded unto the riches of their liberality.--II. Corinthians, viii. 2.

If well thou view’st us with no squinted eye, No partial judgment, thou wilt quickly rate Thy wealth no richer than my poverty; My want no poorer than thy rich estate. Our ends and births alike, in this as I, Poor thou wert born, and poor again shalt die.

My little fills my little-wishing mind, Thou having more than much, yet seekest more; Who seeks, still wishes what he seeks to find; Who wishes, wants; and whoso wants, is poor: Then this must follow of necessity, Poor are thy riches, rich my poverty.

Though still thou gett’st, yet is thy want not spent, But as thy wealth, so great thy wealthy itch; But with my little I have great content-- Content hath all, and who hath all is rich; Then this in reason thou must needs confess, If I have little, yet that thou hast less.

Whatever man possesses, God has lent, And to his audit liable is ever, To reckon how, and where, and when he spent. Then thus thou bragg’st thou art a great receiver. Little my debt, when little is my store, The more thou hast, thy debt still grows the more.