YES, if the intensities of hope and fear Attract us still, and passionate exercise Of lofty thoughts, the way before us lies Distinct with signs, through which in set career, As through a zodiac, moves the ritual year Of England's Church; stupendous mysteries! Which whoso travels in her bosom eyes, As he approaches them, with solemn cheer. Upon that circle traced from sacred story We only dare to cast a transient glance, Trusting in hope that Others may advance With mind intent upon the King of Glory, From his mild advent till his countenance Shall dissipate the seas and mountains hoary.
Whose virtue changes to a christian Flower A Growth from sinful Nature's bed of weeds!- Fitliest beneath the sacred roof proceeds The ministration; while parental Love Looks on, and Grace descendeth from above As the high service pledges now, now pleads. There, should vain thoughts outspread their wings and fly
To meet the coming hours of festal mirth, The tombs-which hear and answer that brief
The Infant's notice of his second birth-- Recal the wandering Soul to sympathy With what man hopes from Heaven, yet fears from Earth.
FATHER! to God himself we cannot give A holier name! then lightly do not bear Both names conjoined, but of thy spiritual care Be duly mindful: still more sensitive
Do Thou, in truth a second Mother, strive Against disheartening custom, that by Thee Watched, and with love and pious industry Tended at need, the adopted Plant may thrive This Ordinance, whether loss it would supply, For everlasting bloom. Benign and pure Prevent omission, help deficiency,
Or seek to make assurance doubly sure. Shame if the consecrated Vow be found An idle form, the Word an empty sound!
FROM Little down to Least, in due degree, Around the Pastor, each in new-wrought vest, We stood, a trembling, earnest Company! Each with a vernal posy at his breast, With low soft murmur, like a distant bee, Some spake, by thought-perplexing fears be- trayed;
And some a bold unerring answer made: How fluttered then thy anxious heart for me, Beloved Mother! Thou whose happy hand Had bound the flowers I wore, with faithful tie: Sweet flowers! at whose inaudible command Her countenance, phantom-like, doth re-
An apostolic hand, and with prayer seals The Covenant. The Omnipotent will raise
DEAR be the Church, that, watching o'er the Their feeble Souls; and bear with his regrets,
Of Infancy, provides a timely shower
Who, looking round the fair assemblage, feels That ere the Sun goes down their childhood sots.
THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY. THE Vested Priest before the Altar stands; Approach, come gladly, ye prepared, in sight Of God and chosen friends, your troth to plight With the symbolic ring, and willing hands Solemnly joined. Now sanctify the bands, O Father!-to the Espoused thy blessing give, That mutually assisted they may live Obedient, as here taught, to thy commands. So prays the Church, to consecrate a Vow "The which would endless matrimony make;" Union that shadows forth and doth partake A mystery potent human love to endow With heavenly, each more prized for the other's
Of thy fond hopes hereafter walk inclined To courses fit to make a mother rue That ever he was born, a glance of mind Cast upon this observance may renew A better will; and, in the imagined view Of thee thus kneeling, safety he may find.
VISITATION OF THE SICK. THE Sabbath bells renew the inviting peal; Glad music! yet there be that, worn with pain And sickness, listen where they long have lain, In sadness listen. With maternal zeal Inspired, the Church sends ministers to kneel Beside the afflicted; to sustain with prayer, And soothe the heart confession hath laid bareThat pardon, from God's throne, may set its scal On a true Penitent. When breath departs From one disburthened so, so comforted, His Spirit Angels greet; and ours be hope That, if the Sufferer rise from his sick-bed, Hence he will gain a firmer mind, to cope With a bad world, and foil the Tempter's arts.
FORMS OF PRAYER AT SEA.
To kneeling worshippers no earthly floor Gives holier invitation than the deck Of a storm-shattered Vessel saved from Wreck (When all that Man could do avail'd no more) By him who raised the Tempest and restrains: Happy the crew who this have felt, and pour Forth for his mercy, as the Church ordains, Solemn thanksgiving. Nor will they implore In vain who, for a rightful cause, give breath To words the Church prescribes aiding the lip For the heart's sake, ere ship with hostile ship Encounters, armed for work of pain and death. Suppliants! the God to whom your cause ye
Will listen, and ye know that He is just.
FROM the Baptismal hour, thro' weal and woe, The Church extends her care to thought and deed;
Nor quits the Body when the Soul is freed, The mortal weight cast off to be laid low. Blest Rite for him who hears in faith, "I know
That my Redeemer liveth,"-hears each word That follows-striking on some kindred chord Deep in the thankful heart;-yet tears will flow. Man is as grass that springeth up at morn, Grows green, and is cut down and withereth Ere nightfall-truth that well may claim a sigh, Its natural echo; but hope comes reborn At Jesu's bidding. We rejoice, "O Death Where is thy Sting?-O Grave where is thy Victory?"
CLOSING the Sacred Book which long has fed Our meditations, give we to a day Of annual joy one tributary lay: This day, when, forth by rustic music led, The village Children, while the sky is red With evening lights, advance in long array Through the still church-yard, each with gar- land gay,
That, carried sceptre-like, o'ertops the head Of the proud Bearer. To the wide church-door, Charged with these offerings which their fathers bore
For decoration in the Papal time,
The innocent Procession softly moves :The spirit of Laud is pleased in heaven's pure clime,
And Hooker's voice the spectacle approves!
WOULD that our scrupulous Sires had dared to leave
Less scanty measure of those graceful rites And usages, whose due return invites A stir of mind too natural to deceive; Giving to Memory help when she would weave A crown for Hope!-I dread the boasted lights That all too often are but fiery blights, Killing the bud o'er which in vain we grieve. Go, seek, when Christmas snows discomfort bring,
The counter Spirit found in some gay church Green with fresh holly, every pew a perch In which the linnet or the thrush might sing, Merry and loud and safe from prying search, Strains offered only to the genial Spring.
FROM low to high doth dissolution climb, And sink from high to low, along a scale Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail; A musical but melancholy chime,
Which they can hear who meddle not with crime,
Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care. Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear The longest date do melt like frosty rime, That in the morning whitened hill and plain And is no more; drop like the tower sublime Of yesterday, which royally did wear His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain Some casual shout that broke the silent air, Or the unimaginable touch of Time.
Now, ruin, beauty, ancient stillness, all Dispose to judgments temperate as we lay On our past selves in life's declining day: For as, by discipline of Time made wise, We learn to tolerate the infirmities And faults of others-gently as he may, So with our own the mild Instructor deals, Teaching us to forget them or forgive. Perversely curious, then, for hidden ill Why should we break Time's charitable seals? Once ye were holy, ye are holy still; Your spirit freely let me drink, and live!
EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY.
EVEN while I speak, the sacred roofs of France Are shattered into dust; and self-exiled From altars threatened, levelled, or defiled, Wander the Ministers of God, as chance Opens a way for life, or consonance Of faith invites. More welcome to no land The fugitives than to the British strand, Where priest and layman with the vigilance Of true compassion greet them. Creed and test Vanish before the unreserved embrace Of catholic humanity:-distrest They came,-and, while the moral tempest roars Throughout the Country they have left, our shores
Give to their Faith a fearless resting-place
CHURCH TO BE ERECTED.
BE this the chosen site; the virgin sod, Moistened from age to age by dewy eve, Shall disappear, and grateful earth receive The corner-stone from hands that build to God. Yon reverend hawthorns, hardened to the rod Of winter storms, yet budding cheerfully; Those forest oaks of Druid memory, Shall long survive, to shelter the Abode Of genuine Faith. Where, haply, 'mid this
Of daisies, shepherds sate of yore and wove May-garlands, there let the holy altar stand For kneeling adoration ;-while-above, Broods, visibly portrayed, the mystic Dove, That shall protect from blasphemy the Land.
MINE ear has rung, my spirit sunk subdued, Sharing the strong emotion of the crowd, When each pale brow to dread hosannas bowed While clouds of incense mounting veiled the rood,
That glimmered like a pine-tree dimly viewed Through Alpine vapours. Such appalling rite Our Church prepares not, trusting to the might
Of simple truth with grace divine imbued; Yet will we not conceal the precious Cross, Like men ashamed: the Sun with his first smile
Shall greet that symbol crowning the low Pile: And the fresh air of incense-breathing morn Shall wooingly embrace it; and green moss Creep round its arms through centuries un- born.
WHAT awful perspective! while from our sight With gradual stealth the lateral windows hide Their Portraitures, their stone-work glimmers,
In the soft chequerings of a sleepy light. Martyr, or King, or sainted Eremite, Whoe'er ye be, that thus, yourselves unseen, Imbue your prison-bars with solemn sheen, Shine on, until ye fade with coming Night!- But, from the arms of silence-list! O list! The music bursteth into second life; The notes luxuriate, every stone is kissed By sound, or ghost of sound, in mazy strife; Heart-trilling strains, that cast, before the eye Of the devout, a veil of ecstasy!
THEY dreamt not of a perishable home Who thus could build. Be mine, in hours of fear
Or grovelling thought, to seek a refuge here; Or through the aisles of Westminster to roam; Where bubbles burst, and folly's dancing foam Melts, if it cross the threshold; where the
Of awe-struck wisdom droops or let my path Lead to that younger Pile, whose sky-like dome Hath typified by reach of daring art Infinity's embrace; whose guardian crest, The silent Cross, among the stars shall spread As now, when She hath also seen her breast Filled with mementos, satiate with its part Of grateful England's overflowing Dead.
GLORY to God! and to the Power who came In filial duty, clothed with love divine, That made his human tabernacle shine Like Ocean burning with purpureal flame; Or like the Alpine Mount, that takes its name From roseate hues, far kenned at morn and
In hours of peace, or when the storm is driven Along the nether region's rugged frame! Earth prompts-Heaven urges ; let us seek the light,
Studious of that pure intercourse begun When first our infant brows their lustre won; So, like the Mountain, may we grow more bright
From unimpeded commerce with the Sun, At the approach of all-involving night.
WHY sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, Coil within coil, at noon-tide? For the WORD Yields, if with unpresumptuous faith explored, Power at whose touch the sluggard shall unfold His drowsy rings. Look forth!-that Stream behold,
THAT STREAM upon whose bosom we have passed
Floating at ease while nations have effaced Nations, and Death has gathered to his fold Long lines of mighty Kings-look forth, my Soul!
(Nor in this vision be thou slow to trust) The living Waters, less and less by guilt Stained and polluted, brighten as they roll, Till they have reached the eternal City-built For the perfected Spirits of the just!
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