FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Sect! EXPORT BOOKSELLERS 32. GAY STREET. . ./.. BATH n T m j£«f- '/»*** sf-,%# DAYS AND SEASONS. • *% SEP 21 1934 DAYS AND SmWr CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAH. "Why doth one day excel another, when as all the light of every day in the year is of the sun ? By the knowledge of the Lord they were distin- guished : and He altered seasons and feasts. — Bectus. xxxiii. 7, %. SECOND EDITION. LONDON: JOHN AND CHARLES MOZLEY, PATERNOSTER ROW ; AND JOSEPH MASTERS, NEW BOND STKEET. 1848. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/daysrchuOOwill ADVERTISEMENT The following collection has been formed on the same principles which influenced the se- lection of its predecessor, Church Poetry — with the difference that in the present case a larger proportion of the poems is derived from modern and original sources. With regard to the plan of the work — it was thought that its value and interest would be increased if the poetry chosen could be adapted, with as much appropriateness as the materials would admit of, to the different sea- sons of the christian and natural year, and in most cases, to account for the adaptation, A VI ADVERTISEMENT. it was found desirable to quote the passage of Scripture which seemed to justify it. This has led the selector, under the guidance of a clergyman, to affix a text from the ser- vices of the day to every poem applied to the Sundays and Holidays of the Church. It is evident that for the poems belonging to the course of the natural year, no such restric- tion was necessary. The selector cannot adequately thank those friends who have enriched this collection by their original contributions — on the value of which this is not the place to enlarge, how- ever warmly their merit may be felt and ap- preciated. INDEX OF AUTHORS. Rev. Henry Alford. Lady Mary To-morrow William Austin. (1635) Anonymous. Page 32 54 182 215 221 36 38 The Righteous Souls But we are drawing near Sonnet Christmas Carol . Ditto .... Annunciation of Blessed Virgin Mary . .137 Parasceue for Good Fri- day ... 162 When from the grey Church tower ( Verses by a poor man) . . .49 There is a jewel . . 94 Lines on a Skeleton . 101 Sonnets from Filicaja (British Magazine) . 121 Vlll INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Anonymous. The mystery of Nature (Educational Magazine) 129 The Retirement . . 154 The Crown of thorns (British Magazine) . 158 Christ in the Garden (do.) 159 Who that a Watcher doth remain . . .159 Men will be light of heart . . . 275 Inscription on a Child (British Magazine) . 298 Psalm XCIII 316 Does each day 318 Sonnet . 321 The Sacred year (British Magazine) 371 Miss E. B. Barrett. My Doves 94 B. (British Magazine) To a Child in prayer . 46 B. J. W. (Brit. Mag.) Hymn for Trinity Sunday 223 Cowley. An Angel's flight . 141 Flowers scattered by Angels 245 Arthur Cleveland Vigils .... 1 Coxe (American) Epiphany 66 Go where the mossy rock 75 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Arthur Cleveland Coxe. Rev. William Cross- well. (American) Drummond. \ Rev. F. W. Faber. Giles Fletcheu. Phineas Fletcher. Glasse. 7- Rev. R. S. Hawker. George Herbert. Page Lament in the Lenten Season . . . 124 The Clouds ... 13 Christmas Eve . .31 The offering of the poor_ 68 Look as the flower . 279 Let us each day . .351 Prosperity {Lyra Apos- tolical) ... 9 The Winter River . 27 The Last Palatine .111 Sunday . . .197 Tints of Spring . .207 The River Rothay . 259 From the " Contrast" . 263 The Ascension of Christ 211 Long Suffering . . 6 Alas ! in what inglorious strains . . . 287 On the first sight of the sea ... 109 The poor man and his Parish Church . . 185 Ephphatha . . .247 Affliction . . .57 a3 INDEX OF AUTHORS. George Herbert. Page The flower ... 63 Business . . . 106 Sin ... 134 Easter . . . .168 Employment . . 280 From the Church porch 289 Ditto . . . .333 Mrs. William Hey. Field flowers . . 201 Hickes' Devotions. The Aspen . . .257 An Evening Hymn . 19 Awake, my Soul . . 39 An Hymn for the great Festivals . . .169 Now, my Soul, the day is gone . . . .177 Hymn for Whit Sunday 219 'Tis not for us . . 310 Hymn for AH Saints' day 352 Ditto . . . .354 Jones (of Nay land.) Mason. Hail, Solitude . . 286 Lamenting the loss of first love . . . .269 Lord John Manners 0. A song of Praise . .341 . Thoughts in Sickness . 357 Under the ocean Wind . 292 Parnell. Hymn for Morning . 238 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Parnel. Sandys. Sir Walter Scott. Sir Philip Sidney. Skelton. SOUTHEY. Mrs. Southey. Spenser. Rev. C. Strong. S. B. Rev. R. C Trench. Henry Vaughan. Mr. Aubrey de Vere, Rev. Thomas Whyte- head. Rev. Isaac Williams Page Hymn for noon . . 240 Hymn for evening . 242 Psalm XLVI . . 203 Psalm LXXXIV . . 319 The course of Time . 55 Autumn . . . 359 Sonnet . . . .210 An Hymn to God . . 103 Brough Bells . . 226 The Pauper's death bed 252 The Ascetic . . .123 Sonnet . . . .116 Christmas Day . . 34 Let the righteous be glad 100 The Buttercups . . 205 Sonnet on Prayer . . 28 The Monk and the Bird 299 I walked the other day .117 Sonnet .... 292 Hymn to the Meek . 345 Thou wert the first . 171 The glittering grass . 222 The coming of Christ . 5 Who would hoard earth's treasures . . .41 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Page Rev. Isaac Williams. Ye shining ones . . 152 The growth of Wisdom 192 Where Duty lies . . 232 From " Angels bearing Crosses" . . .326 'Departure of birds before Winter . . .363 I wake as Adam . . 369 George Wither. For one that hears him- self praised . . 15 A morning Hymn . . 17 When Daylight appears 175 When we depart from home . 314 When we return . . 315 An evening Hymn . 331 Wordsworth. If this mute earth . . 141 Life's Autumn past . 246 You behold high on the breast . 276 blest seclusion . . 324 Here then we rest . 349 'Tis by comparison . 364 INDEX OF AUTHORS. ORIGINAL. Page Rev. H. Alford. Church building . 7 Anonymous. Salvete Flores Martyrum The Stars (by the Author of hymns and scenes oj 45 childhood) 79 On the 450th A nniversary of the opening of Win- chester College . 143 C. Egloshayle . 87 Quis separabit 99 The vale of Otter . 217 C. F. H. The Deaf and Dumb 322 C. M. Explanation . 10 Distinction . 11 Idolatry 12 The Grave . 12 C. M. S. A lesson from Spring . 172 D. Good Friday 161 Easter Eve . 166 Easter Day . 167 Written in a Praver-book 208 INDEX OF AUTHORS. D. S. W. 7- H. JC Page Recollections of early scenes 46 Snapdragon . 281 Forward ! 368 A Winter thought 26 Easy in anguish keen . 367 A Winter scene . 78 Mox Abiturus 133 Primroses at midnight . 136 Spring Sonnets 179 rich; n to -^fivpia/Atx 244 Sonnet (1829) 244 7toiv x\y)/u.ot, ev tfxoi (xi) . In early days . . 70 INDEX OF AUTHORS. S. D. S. R. Page The Winter's morning . 21 The Winter's day . . 24 Delay . . 29 The Persian Cyclamen . 60 The Honey-suckle . 235 The Rose . . 254 The Lily . 271 The Fuschia 312 A Song of Mourning 360 The Messenger . 330 The Christmas rose 53 Ivy ... . 85 The fear of God . 126 Primrose 190 The love of God . 233 The five Precepts . 266 Town and Country 336 The Periwinkle . 343 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. &tibcnt Suntrag. VIGILS. Arthur Cleveland Coxe. The night is far spent, the day is at hand. — Rom. xiii. 12. Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning. And ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return from the wedding ; Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when he cometh, shall find watching : And if he shall come in the second watch, or come in the third watch, and find them so, blessed are those servants.— St. Luke xii. 35, 37. It is the fall of eve ; And the long tapers, now we light, And watch : for we believe Our Lord may come at night. Adeste Fideles. DAYS AND SEASONS, OR An hour — and it is Seven, And fast away the evening rolls : O, it is dark in heaven, But light within our souls. Veni, Creator Spiritus S Hark ! the old bell strikes Eight ! And still we watch with heart and ear, For as the hour grows late, The Day-star may be near. Jubilate Deo ! Hark ! it is knelling Nine ! But faithful eyes grow never dim ; And still our tapers shine, And still ascends our hymn. Cum Angelis. The watchman crieth Ten ! My soul, be watching for the Light, For when He comes agen, 'Tis as the thief at night. Nisi Dominus ! By the old bell— Eleven ! Now trim thy lamps, and ready stand ; CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. The world to sleep is given, But Jesus is at hand. De profundis ! At Midnight — is a cry ! It is the bridegroom draweth near ! Come quickly, Lord, for I Have long'd Thy voice to hear ! Kyrie Eleeson ! Could ye not watch one hour ? Be ready : or the bridal train And Bridegroom, with His dower, May sweep along in vain ; Miserere mei ! By the old steeple — Two ! And now I know the day is near ; Watch — for His word is true, And Jesus may appear ! Dies Irse ! Three — by the drowsy chime ! And joy is nearer than at first. O, let us watch the time When the first light shall burst ! Sursam corda. DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Four — and a streak of day ! At the cock-crowing He may come ; And still to all I say, Watch — and with awe be dumb. Fili David ! Five ! — and the tapers now In rosy morning dimly burn ! Stand and be girded thou, Thy Lord will yet return ! Veni, Jesu ! Hark ! 'tis the Matin-call ! Oh, when our Lord shall come again, At prime or even-fall, Blest are the wakeful men ! Nunc dimittis. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. THE COMING OF CHRIST. Rev. I. Williams. As the lightning cometh out of the East, and shineth even unto the West ; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. Unto the East we turn, with watchful eyes, Where opens the white haze of silvery lawn, And the still trees stand in the streak of dawn, Until the Sun of Righteousness shall rise, And far behind shall open all the skies, And golden clouds of angels be withdrawn Around His presence. Then there shall be gone, Fleeing before His face in dread surprise, The Heaven and Earth and the affrighted Sea, And the tribunal shall be set on high, And we the fiery trial must abide. Like nightly travellers to the kindling sky, Awake or sleeping to yon eastern side We turn, and know not when the time shall be. b3 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR i£be of St. ghititeto. LONG SUFFERING. Phineas Fletcher. Yet learned He obedience by the things which He suffered.— Heb. v. 8. And next Macrothumous, whose quiet face, No cloud of passion ever shadowed ; Nor could hot anger reason's rule displace, Purpling the scarlet cheek with fiery red ; Nor could revenge, clad in a deadly white, With hidden malice eat his vexed sprite : For ill, he good repaid, and love exchanged for spite. Was never yet a more undaunted spirit, Yet most he deem'd a base and timVous swain ; But he well weighing his own strength and merit, The greatest wrong could wisely entertain. Nothing resisted his commanding spear : Yielding itself to him a winning were ; And tho' he died, yet dead, he rose a conqueror. CHURCH POETMY FOR THE YEAR. 7 His rocky arms of massy adamant, Safely could back rebut the hardest blade ; His skin itself could any weapon daunt, Of such strange mould and temper was he made : Upon his shield a palm-tree still increas'd, Though many weights his rising arms depressed ; His word was, " Rising most, by being most op- press'd." St. &ntrreto's San. CHURCH BUILDING. Rev. H. Alford. The Lord doth build up Jerusalem. — Ps. cxlvii. 2. The lovely form of God's own Church, It riseth in all lands ; On mountain sides, in wooded vales, And by the desert sands. There is it with its solemn aisles, A heavenly holy thing ; And round its walls lie Christians dead, Blessedly slumbering. DAYS AND SEASONS, Oil Though sects and factions rend the world, Peace is its heritage ; Unchanged, though empires by it pass, The same from age to age. The hallowed form our fathers built, That hallowed form build we ; Let not one stone from its own place Removed ever be. Scoff as thou passest if thou wilt, Thou man that hast no faith ; Thou that no sorrows hast in life, Nor blessedness in death. But we will build for all thou scoff, And cry " What waste is this !" The Loud our God hath given us all, And all is therefore His. Clear voices from above sound out Their blessing on the pile ; The dead beneath support our hands, And succour us the while. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAH. Yea, when we climb the rising walls, Is peace and comfort given ; Because the work is not of earth, But hath its end in Heaven. «£econt> SSttti&ap m &fobent. PROSPERITY. Lyra Apostolica. o. Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth ! In mine ears saith the Loid of hosts, of a truth many houses shall be desolate, even great and fair, without inhabitant. — Isaiah v. 8, 9. When they shall say, Peace and safety, then sudden destruc- tion cometh upon them. When mirth is full and free, Some sudden gloom shall be ; When haughty power mounts high, The Watcher's axe is nigh. All growth has bound ; when greatest found It hastes to die. 10 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR When the rich town, that long Has lain its huts among, Rears its new buildings vast, And vaunts, it shall not last. Bright tints that shine are but a sign Of Summer past. And when thine eye surveys, With fond adoring gaze, And yearning heart thy friend, Love to its grave doth tend. All gifts below, save truth, but grow Towards an end, THE FOLLOWING SONNETS WERE WRITTEN FOR ONE WHO ASKED AN EXPLANATION OF THE PRECEDING POEM. EXPLANATION. C. M. When thou hast lured the lightning from the sky, Swift be thy hand to bind the subtle power : — Rather at once with unspent energy Guide its full stroke on what it should devour, Or bid it glide at once where thou wouldst try Its gentler influence on herb or flower. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 11 So words of fire from mightier spirits caught Brook not expounding, and but scarce will yield Their meaning to slow test and questioning thought, But grasp them with a hand and eye well taught At once the unwasted element to wield, And deeds of unknown wonder shall be wrought. But we with palsied hands, and eyelids sealed, Perchance may find our best attempt is nought. DISTINCTION. Is love then bounded ? May we not adore His Image who created us ? Not love In freedom and in fulness ? Must we move For ever by cold rule, and close the door Whene'er our hearts some kindlier instinct prove ? No law so harsh is given us from above : Yet do all gifts, save Truth, for ever tend To perish, and in love itself there meet Such diverse elements, that one may fleet And lose itself in air, the other blend Still unconfusedly in union sweet With life immortal, and more gladly greet Him at Reaven-gate, whom hence with tears we send, Than where with mortal eye friend answered friend. 12 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR IDOLATRY. If Heaven-born spirits by love's earthly part To idol-worship slavishly are bent, Kind is the stroke that frees the charmed heart, Though oft it seem as if in anger sent : For love that hath no heavenward intent Is falsehood, and a vain beguiling art, That cheats us of true bliss : yea, though it seem A shadow of the purest holiest joy, Still downward the unwary 'twill decoy. The best that love can give to love supreme Is but a grave, and if the soul employ There its best energies, can we choose but deem Such grovelling hope 'tis mercy to destroy And quench the love that could vain things esteem. THE GRAVE. Yes ! easily the spirit might forego The best that earth can of her own provide — But is all friendship earthly ? Who hath tried And will not, even indignant, answer No ? Spirit with spirit in bonds eternal tied Gives Truth, and Truth receives even here below— CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 13 Yet how can this be known ? since the dark wave Of cold oblivion sweeps between our shore And that where Truth abideth evermore — Nay ! we forget not Him, who came to save Not us alone, but all of good we have : He passed from sight when man had learnt to adore ; When we upon His Image set due store, Love shall with Christ keep Sabbath in the grave. &f)ittJ Sunfcag in &frhcnt. THE CLOUDS. Rev. William Crosswell. For, behold, the Lord cometh out of His place. Isaiah xxvi. 21. I cannot look above and see Yon high-piled pillowy mass Of evening clouds, so swimmingly In gold and purple pass, And think not, Lord, how Thou wast seen On Israel's desert way, Before them, in Thy shadowy screen Pavilion'd all the day ! 14 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Or, of these robes of gorgeous hue Which the Redeemer wore, When ravish 'd from His followers' view, Aloft His flight he bore ; W 7 hen lifted, as on mighty wing He curtained His ascent, And wrapt in clouds, went triumphing Above the firmament. Is it a trail of that same pall Of many coloured dyes, That high above, o'ermantling all, Hangs midway down the skies ; Or borders of those sweeping folds Which shall be all unfurl'd About the Saviour, when He holds His judgment on the world ? For in like manner as he went, My soul, hast thou forgot ? Shall be His terrible descent, When man expecteth not ! Strength, Son of Man, against that hour, Be to our spirils given, When Thou shalt come again with power, Upon the clouds of Heaven ! CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 15 FOR ONE THAT HEARS HIMSELF MUCH PRAISED. George Wither. But with me it is a very small thing that 1 should be judged of you or of man's judgment. — 1 Cor. iv. 3. My sins and follies, Lord, by Thee From others hidden are, That such good words are spoke of me, As now and then I hear. For sure if others knew me such, Such as myself I know ; I should have been disprais'd as much As I am praised now. By me some good perhaps hath been Perform'd in public view ; But what corruptions are within, Asham'd I am to show. My brutish lusts, my secret pride, My follies yet unshown, Which from Thy sight 1 cannot hide, To others are unknown. 16 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR The praise, therefore, which I have heard, Delights not so my mind, As those things make my heart afraid, Which in myself I find. And I had rather to be blam'd, So I were blameless made, Than for much virtue to be fam'd, When I no virtues had. Though slanders to an innocent Sometimes do bitter grow, Their bitterness procures content If clear himself he know. And when a virtuous man hath err'd, If praised himself he hear, It makes him grieve, and more afraid, Than if he slander'd were. Lord, therefore, make my heart upright, Whate'er my deeds be seen, And righteous rather in Thy sight Than in the world's esteem. And, if aught good appears to be, In any act of mine, Let thankfulness be found in me, And all the praise be Thine. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 17 WINTER. A MORNING HYMN. George Wither. Man goeth forth to his work and to his labour until the evening. -Psalm civ. 23. Since thou hast added now, O God ! Unto my life another day, And giv'st me leave to walk abroad, And labour in my lawful way, My walks and works with me begin, Conduct me forth and bring me in. In every power my soul enjoys Internal virtues to improve ; In every sense that she employs, In her external works to move ; Bless her, O God, and keep me sound From outward harm and inward wound. c3 18 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Let sin nor Satan's fraud prevail, To make mine eye of reason blind, Or Faith, or Hope, or Love to fail, Or any virtues of the mind ; But more and more let them increase, And bring me to mine end in peace. Such courses let my feet forbear ; Keep Thou my hands from doing wrong ; Let not ill counsels pierce mine ear, Nor wicked words defile my tongue. And keep the windows of each eye, That no strange lust climb in thereby. But guard Thou safe my heart in chief, That neither hate, revenge, nor fear, Nor vain desire, vain joy, or grief, Obtain command or dwelling there : And, Lord, with every saving grace, Still true to Thee, maintain that place. From open wrongs, from secret hates, Preserve me likewise, Lord, this day, From slanderous tongues, from wicked mates, From every danger in my way : My goods to me secure Thou too, And prosper all the works I do. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 19 So till the evening of this morn, My time shall then so well be spent, That when the twilight shall return I may enjoy it with content ; And to Thy praise and honour say, That this hath prov'd a happy day. AN EVENING HYMN. Hickes" Devotions. I will lay me down in peace, and take my rest, for it is Thou Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety. — Psalm iv. 9. Lord, now the time returns, For weary man to rest, And lay aside those pains and cares With which our day's oppress'd : Or rather change our thoughts To more concerning cares ; How to redeem our misspent time, With sighs, and tears, and prayers ; How to provide for Heaven, That place of rest and peace ; Where < ur full joys shall never wane, Our pleasures never cease. 20 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Blest be Thy love, dear Lord, That taught us this sweet way, Only to love Thee for Thyself, And for that love, obey. O Thou, our souls' chief hope ! We to thy mercy fly, Where'er we are* Thou canst protect, Whate'er we need, supply. Whether we sleep or wake, To thee we both resign ; By night we see, as well as day, If Thy light on us shine. Whether we live or die, Both we submit to Thee ; In death we live, as well as life, If thine in death we be. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 21 THE WINTER MORNING. S. D. He hath made everything beautiful in his time. Eccles. iii. 11. Slowly the winter's morning dawns, and through the icy pane The sun can scarcely glimmer, as its faint light comes again ; Dimly struggling through the frosty haze, or heavy clouds of snow, While fast the flakes begin to fall, and keen the north winds blow. 22 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR All seems so dark and dreary now, that scarce we think it true, That summer suns once rose so bright in skies so calm and blue ; And green the grass and fair the flowers, where only snow we see, And where the winds are roaring now, the lark sang merrily. And often as we ope our eyes to such a scene forlorn, We idly turn to sleep again, and shun the wintry morn : Saying, why so early rise when all is dreary to be- hold, And wake so soon from pleasant dreams to find all dark and cold ? Coward thoughts will us assail, but let us yield to them no more ; Let us spring at once from slumber, when our time of rest is o'er ; Nor wait for summer morn, when warm the sun- beams o'er us fall, But learn in every season thus, to follow duty's call. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 23 And when, the struggle over, we have braved the winter's cold, How oft we find that joy springs forth we looked not to behold : Bright shines perhaps the wintry moon, and never seemed so fair, Or midst the clouds, dispersing now. stars glitter here and there. Then slowly as they fade away, we see the red streak glow That marks where soon the rising sun will shine above the snow ; And when through boughs frost-covered, the first gleaming rays are seen, We think no fairer dawn could be, midst summer leaves of green. Then, ready for the well-known hour, can pleasure be more sweet, While by the brightly blazing fire, each doth each other greet ; Whom still the happy childhood's home in loving group hath bound, Or the glad and holy Christmas time, once more hath gathered round. 24 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Then never turn we from the tasks which changing seasons bring, Or waste the go d, or miss the joy, that doth from each one spring. So all more bright and gladsome, wintry hours will pass away, And all more sweetly will return, the long fair sum- mer's day. THE WINTER'S DAY. (From the German.) S. D. The light of the Lord leadeth him.— Ecclus. i. 29. How pure thy beauty, O thou wintry day ! Whose brightness comes from heavenly beams alone, Upon the frost-bound earth, All stir and motion o'er. The sunbeams with their greeting calm, uplift My spirit, — not like an enchantress' kiss, Wild throbbings to awake Within the fevered veins. The spotless snow, that on the meadow lies, Nurtures no serpent-snare beneath its veil. That stillest blue of heaven Conceals no coming storm. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 25 I revelled once in all the summer's glow, In balmy breath of flowers ; my spirit then Rested on earth alone ; But all hath passed away. And now I would not seek a higher bliss Than, all from earth set free, to stand as now In the fair light of heaven, So pure, so bright, so cold. 26 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR St. Cfjomas's Bag. A WINTER THOUGHT. H. Now, therefore, ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the Saints, and of the household of God. Ephes. ii. 19. We, housed safe, In happy covert rest, Whilst rude winds roar, and angry surges chafe Against our fenced nest : Why bask we thus secure, Whilst those without our ark rough tempest's shock endure ? Children of love ! Saved the o'erwhelming night, Chose from the world to range safe worlds above, Blest in your own despite ! Ye, while bleak storms howl wild, Think of the outward waste, and pray for error's child ? CHURCH POETKY FOR THE YEAR. 27 THE WINTER RIVER. Rev. F. W. Faber. Whether a man be rich or poor, if he have a good heart toward the Lord, he shall at all times rejoice with a cheerful countenance. — Ecclus. xxvi. 4. Low spirits are a sin, — a penance given To over-talking and unthoughtful mirth. There is nor high nor low in holiest heaven, Nor yet in hearts where heaven hath hallowed earth. Still there are some whose growth is won in strife, And who can bear hot suns through all their life : But rather for myself would I forego High tides of feeling and brief moods of power, Than share those languors with the showy flower, Which the shade-loving herb doth never know. O Brathay ! wisely in thy winter grounds, Wisely and sweetly are thy currents chiming, Thus happily to every season timing The same low waters and the same low sounds. 28 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR JFouxti) Sunfcag in atrbent. SONNET ON PRAYER. Rev. R. C. Trench. In every thing, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds, through Christ Jesus. — Phil. iv. 6, 7. Lord, what a change within us one short hour Spent in Thy presence will avail to make ; What burdens lighten, what temptations slake ! What parched ground refresh, as with a shower ! We kneel, and all around us seems to lower ; We rise, and all the distant and the near Stand forth in sunny outline, bright and clear ; We kneel, how weak, we rise, how full of power ; Why, therefore, do we do ourselves this wrong, Or others, that we are not always strong ? That we are ever overborne with care, That we should ever weak or heartless be, Anxious or troubled, when with us is Prayer, And joy and strength and courage are with Thee CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 29 DELAY. (From the German.) S. D. Let your moderation be known unto all men. — Phil. iv. 5. When he calleth them, they say here we be. — Bar. iii. 34. Be it joy or sorrow Which lieth in thy way, Remove not to the morrow What cometh for to-day ; But whatsoe'er God giveth, rise and take straightway. Deferrest thou the sweet ? 'Tis gone thy grasp before ; The pain thou wilt not meet, The longer presseth sore, Since for all bitter fear thou hast but time the more. So when cometh either, Seek no vain delay, Good it is for neither, Pleasure will decay, And double weight of pain will sorrow on thee lay. d3 30 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Pluck when the call thou hearest, Ere it fades, the flower ; Do the thing thou fearest, So the fear is o'er, And thus a double bloom springs forth from plea- sure's store. Never joy or sorrow Which cometh for to-day, Remove unto the morrow, But rise to take straightway That which the hand of God doth now before thee lay. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 31 Rev. W. Crosswell. The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanc- tuary. — Isaiah ix. 13. The thickly woven boughs they wreathe Through every hallowed fane, A soft reviving odour breathe Of summer's gentle reign ; And rich the ray of mild green light Which like an emerald's glow, Comes struggling through the latticed height Upon the crowds below. O, let the streams of solemn thought Which in those temples rise, From deeper sources spring than aught Dependent on the skies : Then, though the summer's pride departs, And winter's withering chill Iiests on the cheerless woods, our hearts Shall be unchanging still. 32 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR LADY MARY. Rev. Henry Alford. There shall be a resurrection of the dead.— Acts xxiv. 15. Thou wert fair, Lady Mary, As the lily in the sun ; And fairer yet thou mightest be, Thy youth was but begun : Thine eye was soft and glancing, Of the deep bright blue ; And on the heart thy gentle words Fell lighter than the dew. They found thee, Lady Mary, With thy palms upon thy breast, Even as thou hadst been praying, At thine hour of rest : The cold pale moon was shining On thy cold pale cheek ; And the morn of the Nativity Had just begun to break. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 33 They carved thee, Lady Mary, All of pure white stone, With thy palms upon thy breast, In the chancel all alone : And I saw thee when the winter moon Shone on thy marble cheek, When the morn of the Nativity Had just begun to break. But thou kneelest, Lady Mary, With thy palms upon thy breast, Among the perfect spirits In the land of rest : Thou art even as they took thee At thine hour of prayer, Save the glory that is on thee From the sun that shineth there. We shall see thee, Lady Mary, On that shore unknown, A pure and happy angel In the presence of the throne. We shall see thee when the light divine Plays freshly on thy cheek, And the Resurrection morning Hath just begun to break. 34 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Christmas 10 ag. s. R. Thy God hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.— Heb. i. 9. Though rude winds usher thee, sweet day, Though clouds thy face deform, Though nature's grace is swept away Before thy sleety storm ; E'en in thy sombrest wintry vest, Of blessed days thou art most blest. Nor frigid air nor gloomy morn Shall check our jubilee ; Bright is the day when Christ was born, No sun need shine but He ; Let roughest storms their coldest blow, With love of Him our hearts shall glow. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 35 Inspired with high and holy thought, Fancy is on the wing ; It seems as to mine ear it brought Those voices carolling, Voices through heaven and earth that ran, Glory to God, good-will to man. I see the shepherds gazing wild At those fair spirits of light ; I see them bending o'er the child With that untold delight Which marks the face of those who view Things but too happy to be true. There, in the lowly manger laid, Incarnate God they see, He stoops to take, through spotless maid, Our frail humanity ; Son of high God, creation's Heir, He leaves His heaven to raise us there. Through Him, Lord, we are born anew, Thy children once again, Oh, day by day our hearts renew, That thine we may remain ; And angel-like, may all agree, One sweet and holy family. 36 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Oft as this joyous morn doth come To speak The Saviour's love, Oh, may it bear our spirits home, Where He now reigns above ; That day which brought Him from the skies, So man restores to Paradise. Then let winds usher thee, sweet day, Let clouds thy face deform, Though nature's grace is swept away Before thy sleety storm ; E'en in thy sombrest wintry vest, Of blessed davs thou art most blest. CHRISTMAS CAROL. William Austin. Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.— St. Luke ii. 10. My soul, why art thou thus deject ? And why art thou disturbed in me ? Trust thou in God ; his aid expect, Who is the only help for thee, And doth thy sighs and sorrows see. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 37 Oh ! that He once the heavens would reave, And so come down : for prophets tell, Behold a virgin shall conceive A Son, fore-named Emmanuel, Who shall descend, with us to dwell. And see ! that heavenly news comes down, That joy to all men shall afford ; This day is born, in David's town, A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord, According to His holy word. This is the day the Lord hath made ; Let us rejoice therein with mirth ; And be not thou, my soul, so sad, But, since thy God is born on earth, Sing Hallelujah at His birth. 38 DAYS AND SEASONS, OB ANOTHER CHRISTMAS CAROL. William Austin. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. — St. Luke ii. 11. Hark ! hear you not a cheerful noise, That makes heaven's vault ring shrill with joys ? See where, like stars, bright angels fly, And thousand heavenly echoes cry ; So loud they chant, that down to earth, Innocent children hear their mirth ; And sing with them what none can say, For joy their Prince is born this day; Their Prince, their God, like one of those, Is made a child, and wrapt in clothes. All this is in time's fulness done, We have a Saviour, God a Son. Heaven, earth, babes, shepherds, angels sing ; Oh ! never was such carolling. Hark ! how they all sing at His birth, Glory to God and peace on earth. Up then, my soul, thy part desire, And sing, though but a bass, in this sweet choir. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 39 St Stephen's Sag. Hickes' Devotions. Wisdom exalteth her children, and layeth hold of them that seek her. — He that holdeth her fast shall inherit glory. — Ecclus. iv. 11, 13. Awake, my soul, chase from thine eyes This drowsy sloth, and quickly rise ; Up, and to work apace ; No less than kingdoms are prepared, And endless bliss for their reward, Who finish well their race. 'Tis not so poor a thing to be Servants to heaven, dear Lord, and Thee, As this fond world believes ; Not even here, where oft the wise Are most exposed to injuries, And friendless virtue grieves. Sometimes Thy hand lets gently fall A little drop, that sweetens all The bitter of our cup ; O what hereafter shall we be, When we shall have whole draughts of Thee Brimful, and drink them up ! 40 DAYS AND SEASONS, Oil Say, happy souls, whose thirst now meets The fresh and living stream of sweets Which spring from that blest throne ; Did you not find this true e'en here, Do you not find it truer there, Now heaven is all your own ? " O yes, the sweets we taste exceed " All we can say or you can read ; " They fill and never cloy : " On earth our cup was sweet, but mixed ; " Here all is pure, refined, and fixed, " All quintessence of joy." Hear'st thou, my soul, what glorious things The Church of heaven in triumph sings Of their blest life above ? Cheer thy faint hopes, and bid them live ; All these thy God to thee will give, If thou embrace His love. Great God, of rich rewards, who thus Hast crowned Thy saints, and wilt crown us ! As both to Thee belong, O may we both together sing Eternal praise to Thee our King, In one eternal song. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 41 Sbt S ofm's 29ag, LOVE. Rev. I. Williams. Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city. — Rev. xxii. 14. Who would hoard earth's treasure When he heaven may gain ? e3 42 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Who would love vain pleasure When he may attain Joys at God's right hand, for ever free from pain ? Who would covet glory Here the dead among, Or renown in story, When th' archangel's tongue Might pronounce his praises endless years along ? Here, where death must sever, Who would lean on love, When he may for ever Have his God above, Infinitely deeper than his thoughts can prove ? Love is like the ocean, Ever fresh and strong, Birth and life and motion, Speed and strength and song, Which, the world surrounding, keeps it green and young. Love is ever flowing, Flowing ever down ; Love through all lands going From the heavenly throne, God's eternal city doth with gladness crown. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 43 Come, thou soul that sinkest On the desert plain, Here of streams thou drinkest, Ne'er to thirst again, Which shall thy resting feet and soul sustain. Love on earth that grieveth Tears of pain and shame, God in heaven receiveth, Covering it from blame, With th' enfolding mantle of th' Almighty Name. Love for ever singeth, Borne on glad desire, And the blue deep wingeth, Like a plume of fire, As to heaven it soareth higher still and higher. Love for ever sinketh, In his silent hour, And of sorrow drinketh, Like a dew-weighed flower, As to earth it boweth lower still and lower. Love for ever sigheth, Banish'd from his God, 44 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Still his spirit trieth On the path He trod, Still with hope undying cherisheth His rod. Love his longings weaneth From the things of sight, And for ever leaneth On immortal might, And in spirit liveth a stern anchorite. Waiting on what waiteth Upon God above, Hating that which hateth, Loving all that love, Moving as his spirit the great God doth move. Love is ever praying,. Nor doth count the chime ; Love is ever weighing Heaven and Hell with Time, Nor by casuist's measure notes and numbers crime. And when this earth faileth Love is strong as death, Yea, o'er death prevaileth ; Love, like vital breath Freed from fleshly claims, the spirit cherisheth. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 45 Cf)e I&olg Innocents, SALVETE FLORES MARTYRUM. Anon. These were redeemed from among men, being the first fruits unto God and to the Lamb. — Rev. xiv. 4. Hail, flow'rets of the Martyr band, Cropped by an unrelenting hand ; Whose sweetness ere the prime of day By sudden blast was swept away ; First victims of satanic hate ; Meek heralds of your Saviour's fate ; Lambs of the flock, foredoomed to bleed, And win at once the victor's meed ; Unconscious, innocently gay, E'en at the Altar's foot ye play ; And snatch the palms that bend around Your brows with starry chaplets crowned. Oh ! Herod, thou hast shed in vain The guiltless blood — among the slain One still is absent, one alone, To scare thee on thy tottering throne. Amidst a thousand streaming eyes, And orphaned mothers' frantic cries, The Virgin's Babe thy steel defies. 46 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR So Moses type of Him to come, Who led to his appointed home The Hebrew through the desert wild — So he, the heaven protected child, When haughty Pharaoh's foul decree Smote the young branch of Israel's tree, Found refuge from an early grave, Borne in his ark on Egypt's wave. TO A CHILD IN PRAYER. B. Think of the Lord with a good heart, and in simplicity of heart seek him.— Wis. i. 1. Pray on, sweet child, though gladness now Doth shine upon thy open brow, And in thy heart Hope's gentle voice Is bidding thee rejoice, — Yet on that brow the clouds may pass, Like shadows on the flowery grass. And in thy breast some dream of ill Hope's quiet melody may kill. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 47 Thy thoughtless eyes are clear and bright In their purple April light ; And each gleeful look doth speak Of gentle thoughts and feelings meek ; And wanton joy, that only sees The golden blossoms on life's trees, Thinking upon the dragon never Which guardeth those glittering trees for ever. Now thy feet are blithe and gay, Dancing the sunny hours away, Upon the thymy hill, or deep In the woody glens, where creep The birds the heather bloom among, Cheering the silence with their song. Alas ! dear child, the music sweet That dwelleth round thy feet, May all be dead and past away, Ere dawn another summer-day, And on thine eyes the dust may lay ; Then watch and pray ! Thy heart is like a blessed shrine, For offerings and prayers divine ; While meek-eyed Purity doth wait For ever at the gate, Watching that no dream of sin May creep that sacred place within. 48 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Alas ! alas ! beloved child, The charmer's voice hath oft beguiled A spirit beautiful as thee, With its enchanted harmony ; And the light of April years Has faded in a night of tears. I would not shade thine eyes with sorrow By talking to thee of to-morrow ; But since the flower which bloometh sweetest Ever does decay the fleetest, And the gladdest songs, like roses, Have their mourning closes, Oh, therefore, through each summer's day, Send up to heaven thy thankful lay ; Dear child, watch and pray ! CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 49 iPttst Sinv&ag after CJjrtstmas, Anon. O Lord God of Hosts, God of Israel, thou that dwellest be- tween the cherubim, Thou art the God, even Thou alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth ; thou hast made heaven and earth. Isaiah xxxvii. 16. When from the gray church tower At day's most solemn hour, The sound of evening bells in tremulous motion Now sinks, now rises high, As float the breezes by, Like changing waves upon the azure ocean, When the sun flings his latest fires On distant mountain tops and consecrated spires ; O ! then the mind of man Delights afar to scan The track of ages that have gone before him ; And visions of the past Crowd on his memory fast, And throw a spell of dreamy rapture o'er him : Then is the moment, then the hour, To mark religion's course and feel her heavenly power : F 50 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR To watch with eager eye The flood of time roll by And woo those scenes to stay whose features win us, Until our lips exclaim, Breathing His sacred name, " 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ! And Thou, O ! Lord, who mad'st the sun, And moon and stars and earth — Thy holy will be done." To see the dewy star In the purple west afar, When day is o'er and twilight dubious lingers — When halcyon stillness reigns O'er darkening hills and plains, And night the curtain draws with holy fingers ; To feel there is a God indeed, And with delighted soul His holy Word to read. How blest the happy lot Of many a humble cot To see the Sabbath sun through lattice breaking, And each effulgent ray That gilds a summer day, With dazzling tints his brilliant sky-path streaking, To feel there is a God indeed, And then in evening time His precious Word to read. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 51 All men in summer hours When Nature decks her bowers, Their great Creator in His works admiring, The life of man should trace In Nature's varied face, From cradled infancy to age expiring ; And feel there is a God indeed, And then with fervent joy His holy Word should read. O ! listen to the song Yon branches green among, On the hushed air its liquid music pouring ; And think ye not with me That in that melody There speaks the placid tone of one adoring ? Certes there is a God indeed, And in His holy book with worship we will read. Lo ! in the crimsoned west, Sinking on ocean's breast, Lingers the orb of day, his journey ended, And on yon lowering cloud, By its own grandeur bowed, He cast his parting beam so rich and splendid ! Yes ! Nature points to God the Lord, And hand in hand she goes with His most sacred Word. 52 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Ye men whose peaceful life, Remote from popular strife Is spent with Nature in your own vocation — Who see her sylvan charms Round villages and farms, And pay to God and her your admiration : As are the Father, Holy Spirit, and Son, So are the Bible, God and Nature three in one. Then bless the Lord of Heaven For all that he has given, Both rich and poor wherever ye are dwelling : Let Christian charity Your constant watchword be, And worship Nature's God with bosoms swelling : All earth adores Him — fountain, flower and bird ; They speak of God to them that love His holy Word. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 53 CHRISTMAS ROSE. S. R. She is not afraid of the snow. — Prov. xxxi. 21. Right dear to me, as well may be, That clear and even mind ; So temperate in prosperity, In sorrow firm and kind ! To see her on life's holidays How mirthfully looks she ; While all along its common ways Who fares so modestly ? Her heart, it dwells in simpleness, Nor can she veil the light That beams from one so formed to bless Each season, dark or bright. She was not changed when sorrow came That awed the sternest men ; It rather seemed, she kept her flame To comfort us till then. f3 54 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR But sorrow passed, and others smiled, With happiness once more ; And she drew back, — the Spirit mild She still had been before. Lady, thou mind'st me of a flower, Each child of nature knows, Possess'd like thee of rarest power, — My steadfast Christmas rose. All through the year 'tis evergreen, In Winter bright alone, It shrinks when Spring's gay tribe is seen, And blushes to be gone. NEW YEAR'S EVE. Rev. H. Alford. Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.— Jude 21. To-morrow — 'tis an idle sound, Tell me of no such dreary thing, A new land, whither I am bound, After strange wandering. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. What care I if bright blossoms there Unfold, and sunny be the field ; If laded boughs in summer air Their pulpy fruitage yield ? While deck to-day my pleasant bower Upon my own loved mountain side, The azure periwinkle flower And violet deep-eyed ? Tell me not of to-morrow, calm In His great hand I would abide, Who fills my present hour with balm, And trust whate'er betide. THE COURSE OF TIME. Sir Walter Scott. All go unto one place, all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again — Eccles. iii. 20. Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea ; 56 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR How are they blotted from the things that be ; How few, all weak and wither'd of their force, Wait on the verge of dark eternity, Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, To sweep them from our sight ! Time rolls his cease- less course. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 57 f*^ Ctr cum cts ton. AFFLICTION. George Herbert. In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without hands, in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ. — Col. ii. 11. When first thou didst entice to Thee my heart, I thought the service brave ; So many joys I writ down for my part ! Besides what I might have Out of my stock of natural delights, Augmented with Thy gracious benefits. 58 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR I looked on Thy furniture so fine, And made it fine to me ; Thy glorious household-stuff did me entwine, And 'tice me unto Thee. Such stars I counted mine ; both heaven and earth Paid me my wages in a world of mirth. What pleasures could I want, whose King I serv'd ? Where joys my fellows were ? Thus argued into hope, my thoughts reserv'd No place for grief or fear : Therefore, my sudden soul caught at the place, And made her youth and fierceness seek Thy face. At first, Thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses, I had my wish and way ; My days were strew'd with flowers and happiness, There was no month but May. But with my years sorrow did twist and grow, And made a party unawares for woe. My flesh began unto my soul, in pain, " Sicknesses cleave my bones ; Consuming agues dwell in every vein, And tune my breath to groans." Sorrow was all my soul, I scarce believed, Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 59 When I got health Thou took'st away my life ; And more ; for my friends die ; My mirth and edge were lost ; a blunted knife Was of more use than I. Thus thin and lean, without a fence or friend, I was blown through with every storm and wind. Whereas my birth and spirits rather took The way that takes the town ; Thou didst betray me to a lingering book, And wrap me in a gown. I was entangled in a world of strife, Before I had the power to change my life. Yet, for I threatened oft the siege to raise, Not simpering all mine age, — Thou often didst, with academic praise, Melt and dissolve my rage. I took thy sweeten'd pill, till I came where I could not go away, nor persevere. Yet, lest perchance I should too happy be, In my unhappiness. Turning my purge to food, Thou throwest me Into more sicknesses. Thus doth Thy power cross-bias me ; not making Thine own gift good, yet me from my -ways taking. 60 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me None of my books will show : I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree, For sure then I should grow To fruit or shade : at least some bird would trust Her household to me, and I should be just. Yet, though Thou troublest me, I must be meek ; In meekness must be stout ; Well, I will change the service, and go seek Some other master out. Ah ! my dear God ! though I am clean forgot, Let me not love Thee if I love Thee not. THE PERSIAN CYCLAMEN. S. D. The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden.— Gen. ii. 8. Art thou once more unfolding thus thy blossoms pale and meek, Thy tender flowers, that seem a care so loving to bespeak ? CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 61 That form of fragile loveliness — how plainly doth it say, Soon will its gentle life be o'er, soon will it fade away. So thoughts of sorrow ever wake with thee to life again ; Yet soothing is their sadness, — sweet, O sweet, their very pain. Thy fair frail buds thou openest in depth of winter time, But this cold land is not thy home, thou seek'st a gentler clime ; And yet thy slender stem is firm, it resteth not on earth, It seems from earthly stain to rise, like one of higher birth ; Like one who ever yearneth from all touch of sin to flee, Meekly the pain enduring that must set the spirit free. The sunbeams passing o'er thee wake a flush of softest bloom, Such tender glow as lights the cheek fast hastening to the tomb. 62 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR And like to thy transparent snow, the mien so pure and calm, And holy thoughts scarce utter'd, like thy faintly breathed balm. Awhile thy closed buds may droop, as though to sad- ness given, But as they ope they upward spring, as they would rise to heaven. Thou speakest of the loved and lost, nor would we shun thy voice, But such alone are not thy words, — thou biddest us rejoice. Thou tellest of thine Eastern land, and Eastward turn our eyes, Eastward we turn with ceaseless look, until the morn shall rise, Until the dawning light reveal the Paradise of rest, Where our lost flowers await us in the gardens of the blest. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 63 Second Simfcag after Christmas. THE FLOWER. George Herbert. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba Father. — Gal. iv. 6. How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean Are Thy returns ! ev'n as the flowers in spring ; To which, beside their own demean, The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. Grief melts away, Like snow in May ; As if there were no such cold thing. Who would have thought my shrivell'd heart Could have recover'd greenness ? It was gone Quite under ground : as flowers depart To see their mother-root, when they have blown ; Where they, together, All the hard weather, Dead to the world, keep house unknown. 64 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR These are Thy wonders, Lord of power ! Killing and quick'ning ; bringing down to hell, And up to heaven, in an hour ; Making a chiming of a passing-bell. We say amiss, ' This, or that, is' Thy word is all ; if we could spell. Oh, that I once past changing were ; Fast in Thy paradise where no flower can wither ! Many a spring I shoot up fair, Offering at Heaven, growing and groaning thither ; Nor doth my flower Want a spring-shower ; My sins and I joining together. But, while I grow in a straight line, Still upwards bent, as if heaven were mine own, Thy anger comes and I decline. What frost to that ? What pole is not the zone Where all things burn, When Thou dost turn, And the least frown of Thine is shown ? CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 65 And now in age I bud again : After so many deaths I live and write : I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing. O, my only Light, It cannot be That I am he, On whom Thy tempests fell all night ! These are Thy wonders, Lord of love ! To make us see we are but flowers that glide. Which when we once can find and prove, Thou hast a garden for us where to 'bide, Who would be more Swelling through store, Forfeit their paradise by their pride. 66 DAYS AND SEASONS, OR 3Spipf)ang. WESTERN MISSIONS. Arthur Cleveland Coxe. Then thou shalt see and flow together, and thine heart shall fear and be enlarged ; because the abundance of the sea shall be converted unto thee, the forces of the Gentiles shall come unto thee— Isaiah lx. 5. Lord, when Thou didst come from Heaven, Edom sought thee from afar, With her gold and incense given, By the leading of a star ; Westward then from Eden guiding, Was the light of Bethlehem shed ; Like the pillar'd blaze abiding O'er the wandering Hebrew's head. CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 67 Westward still the world alluring, Hath the risen Day-star beamed, And, the sinking soul assuring, O'er the world's wide ocean streamed. Westward still, the midnight breaking, Westward still its light be poured ! Heathen Thy possession making, Utmost lands Thy dwelling, Lord ! Westward where from giant fountains, Oregon comes down in floods, Westward to Missouri's mountains, Or to wild Iowa's woods : Where the broad Arkansas goeth, Winding o'er savannahs wide ; Where, beyond old Huron, floweth Many a strong eternal tide. Westward where the wavy prairie Dark as slumbering ocean lies, Let Thy starlight Son of Mary, O'er the shadowed billows rise ! There be heard ye herald voices Till the Lord His glory shows, And the lonely place rejoices, With the bloom of Sharon's rose. bO DAYS AND SEASONS, OR Where the wilderness is lying, And the trees of ages nod, Westward, in the desert crying, Make a highway for our God. Westward — till the Church be kneeling In the forest aisles so dim, And the wild-wood arches pealing, With the people's holy hymn, » Westward still, oh Lord, in glory Be Thy banner'd cross unfurl'd, Till from vale to mountain hoary, Rolls the anthem round the world : Reign, oh reign o'er every nation, Reign, Redeemer, Father, King, And with songs of Thy salvation Let the wide creation ring. THE OFFERING OF THE POOR. Rev. William CrosswelU Lift up thine eyes round about and see ; all they gather themselves together, they come to thee. — Isaiah lx. 4. We come not with a costly store, O Lord, like them of old, The masters of the starry lore, From Ophir's shore of gold ; CHURCH POETRY FOR THE YEAR. 69 No weepings of the incense tree Are with the gifts we bring, No odorous myrrh of Araby Blends with our offering. But still our love would bring its best, A spirit keenly tried By fierce affliction's fiery test, And seven times purified : * The fragrant graces of the mind, The virtues that delight To give their perfume out, will find Acceptance in Thy sight.