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AN EASTER HYMN
CHRIST, the Lord, is risen to-day ;
Sons of men and angels say:
Raise your joys and triumphs high:
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply:
Love's redeeming work is done,
Vain the stone, the watch, the seal,
Lives again our glorious king:
Soar we now where Christ hath led,
JOHN GREENLEaf whittier
Haverhill, Mass., Dec. 17, 1807 — Hampton Falls, N. H., Sept. 7, 1892), was a man whose beautiful catholicity of spirit is clearly seen in all the hymns that the churches have adopted from his poems. Perhaps the rapidly growing popularity of his hymns is indicative of a spread in the churches of the spirit which be so earnestly advocated. The whole of the beautiful poem entitled "Our Master," from which these stanzas are taken, should be read in order to appreciate fully the poet's spirit in the hymn.
WE may not climb the heavenly steeps
To bring the Lord Christ down;
But warm, sweet, tender even yet
And faith has still its Olivet,
And love its Galilee.
The healing of the seamless dress
We touch him in life's throng and press,
Through him the first fond prayers are said
Our lips of childhood frame;
The last low whispers of our dead
O Lord and Master of us all,
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
EDWARD HENRY BICKERSTETH
(London, Jan. 25, 1825), an English Episcopalian, who was created bishop of Exeter in 1885, is the author of a religious poem, Yesterday, To-day, and Forever," of the hymnal companion to the Book of Common Prayer, and of a number of hymns. "Perfect Peace" is especially noteworthy as the favorite hymn of Queen Victoria, being often sung by request in the services which she attended. While this is one of the new hymns, having been written but a few years, it is finding a place in all the standard collections, and its growing popularity will probably give it a permanent place amongst the great hymns. It is usually sung to the stately tune "Pax Tecum."
PEACE, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin ?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed? To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.
Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round? On Jesus' bosom naught but calm is found.
Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away? In Jesus' keeping we are safe and they.
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and ours?
It is enough; earth's struggles soon shall cease, And Jesus call us to heaven's perfect peace.
EDWARD HENRY BICKERSTETH