■ ■ // FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Glib Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/resurgitcoOOfoxc ESURGIT A COLLECTION OK 'ilgmns anti Songs of tfje Ucsurrrctton. EDITED, WITH' XQTES, By FRANK FOXCROFT. WITH AN INTRODUCTION Bv ANDREW PRESTON PEABODY, D.D. -*- Boston: FEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. Xcto gork; CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. Copyright, 1879, Bv FRANK FOXCROFT. rights reserved. (Tabic of Contents. Prefatory Note Index of First Lines Index of Latin Hymns. Index of Authors . Index oi Translators . Introduction by Andrew P. Hymns from i he Greek Hymns from ihf Latin Hymns from the Russian Hymns from the Danish Hymns from the German Hymns from ihk Swedish English Hymns American Hymns Bibliography . Peabody I). D. XV xvii xxi xxiii I 2 S 97 101 109 '5 I 3 fl 347 gfrefotorg Note, j HE present volume explains, and, it may be hoped, justifies itself. It is the result of a more careful search than has been hitherto made in the rich field of resurrection- poetry. It finds its purpose in a desire to con- tribute to the observance of a day. the hopes and iations of which are precious to all branches of the Christian Church : and, besides this, to } -re- sent a collection of verse sufficiently varied and suggestive to be welcome not only at Easter-time. but throughout the year. For the Christian Sabbath is itself a weekly commemoration of the rising of Christ, and we do not wisely if we keep the Eas feast but once a year. The scope of the volume might have been greatly enlarged by including poems relating to the ascen- sion and exaltation of Christ, or to the general res- urrection, and the joys of heaven. Poems of both these classes are often included among Easter- VI PREFATORY NOTE. pieces. But, if these had been taken, the collec- tion would have lost its distinctive character. With a very few exceptions, the poems which it contains relate directly to the rising of Christ, and to the Christian hope of resurrection as based thereon. Within these seemingly narrow limits the reader will find a wide variety of form and thought and feeling. It will be noticed that comparatively few of the pieces are among those in common use for public worship. Xo part of the editor's search has been so disappointing as that which led him among the hymn-books. It is well known that what may be called the singing qualities of a hymn are often in inverse ratio to the poetic. There are very many hymns, which, when removed from their set- ting, and analyzed as poems, are found to be com- monplace, and barren of beauty. Xo piece, how- ever, has been discarded from the collection simply because it was familiar, nor included simply be- cause it was little known. Religious feeling and poetic beauty constitute the standard which the editor has sought to apply. It is not claimed that the collection is complete, but that it is comprehensive and fairly representa- tive. It contains one hundred and seventy-seven pieces, extending over fifteen centuries of sacred song, and representing the poets of eight distinct nationalities. It is hoped that the attempt made at classification and chronological arrangement will assist the reader in the ready use of the volume. PREFATORY NOTE. vu The notes prefixed to the hymns have been pre- pared with care from the best accessible soii They are given in the belief that the interest of a hymn is enhanced by a knowledge of the circum- stances in which it was written, or of the author. If inaccuracies exist, the editor will he glad to he informed of them, in order that they may be cor- rected in later editions. The editor is indebted to Mr. Whittier, Bishop Coxe, Dr. Peabody, Mr. A. I). F. Randolph, Mr. C. B. Tillinghast, and Mr. A. P. Hitchcock, for encouragement or advice ; and to A. D. F. Ran- dolph & Co., Dr. SchafT, Houghton, Osgood & Co., Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, Miss Emily Seaver, Miss Harriet McEwen Kimball, and Miss Emily P. Mann, for permission to use copyrighted poems. £ntir.t of JTirst lines. Again the Lord of life and light . Aias. poore death ! where is thy glorie ? Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! All hail ! dear Conqueror ! all hail ! All is o'er, — the pain, the sorrow All praise to Him of Nazareth Angels, roll the rock away . Angels, to our jubilee .... A pathway opens from the tomb . Arise Arise, my soul ! awake from sleep As spring's sweet breath after long wintry snow As those who seek the break of day Awake, glad soul ! awake! awake Awake, thou wintry earth Behold the day the Lord hath made Blest morning, whose young dawning rays Breezes of spring, all earth to life awaking Calm they sit with closed door Christ has arisen . Christ hath arisen PAGE 21 1 186 210 94 1 J iS 54 2 I 345 141 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Christ hath arisen ! O mountain peaks ! attest ! Christ is become our Paschal Lamb Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! Christ is risen, the Lord is come . Christ the Lord is risen again Christ the Lord is risen to-day Christ the Lord is risen to-day Christ, upon the Friday slain Christ, we sing Thy saving passion Christ with mighty triumph rises . . . Come, and let us drink of that new river Come, ye faithful, raise the strain . Come, ye saints, look here and wonder . Dawn bursts o'er death's prison . Dawn of dawns, the Easter Day . Days grow longer, sunbeams stronger . Dear Saviour of a dying world Death and darkness, get you packing ! . Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing Done is a battle on the dragon black Do saints keep holy day in heavenly places ? . Ere yet the dawn has filled the skies Eternal Father ! at whose word Fair spring, thou dearest season of the year . Far be sorrow, tears, and sighing . For Easter Day, lilies white ! . Forth to the Paschal Victim, Christians, bring From death, Christ, on the Sabbath morn . Glory be to God on high Hail, day of days ! in peals of praise Hail! day of joyous rest Hail ! the holy day of days . Hail the much-remembered day PAGE 2 33 298 259 228 118 67 204 56 17 9i 4 12 218 163 339 308 285 199 187 169 326 123 3 2 4 "5 299 338 69 36 2 45 79 5 2 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. XI Hallelujah ! I ... Hallowed forever be that twilight hour . He comes! He conies ! the tomb . He is risen ! He is risen ! Helped by the Almighty's arm, at last . Hence they have lx>rrre my Lord. Behold the sto He's g Qe ! see where His body lay How brightly glows the morning red ! . II \\ shall we keep this holy da] If the dark and awful tomb . I have no wit. no words, no tears . In the bonds of death He lay In the tomb, behold. He lies In Thy glorious resurrection Into the dim earth's lowest parts descending 1 say to all men far and near It is the noon of night .... Jesus Christ is risen to-day . Jesus hath vanished ; all in vain . in spices wrapped, and laid '.ives : no longer now . Jesus my Redeemer lives Jesu, the very thought of Thee Joy, O joy, ye broken-hearted ! Lamb, the once crucified Let faithfull soules this double feast attend Let us rise in early morning . Lift your glad voices in triumph on high Light's glittering morn bedecks the >ky Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store Lo ! the day the Lord hath made . Lo ! the gates of death are broken Mary to her Saviour's tomb . Morning breaks upon the tomb 216 143 M5 4> 64 6 224 47 Xll INDEX OF FIRST 1 1 NFS. Morning of the Sabbath day . Most glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day Now Morning lifts her dewy veil . Now the world's fresh dawn of birth Now thy gentle Lamb, O Sion ! . O Christians, let us joyful be ! O darkest woe ! O day of days ! shall hearts set free O glorious Head, Thou livest now O mine eyes, be not so tearful Once more thou comest, O delicious spring On earth was darkness spread O risen Lord, conquering King O Thou, the heavens' eternal King O Thou who once from death didst rise Our Paschal joy at last is here Pain and toil are over now . Praise to Christ with suppliant voices . Purge we out the ancient leaven . Put on thy beautiful robes, Bride of Christ Rejoice, dear Christendom, to-day Rise again, yes, rise again, wilt thou Rise, heart, thy Lord is risen : sing His praise Rise, heir of fresh eternity . Sabbath of the saints of old . Saints on earth, and saints in light Saviour of mankind, Man! Emmanuel! Say, Earth, why hast thou got thee new attir See the land, her Easter keeping . Sing aloud, children Sleep, sleep, old sun ; thou canst not have re Smile praises, O sky ! . So holy is this day of days . -past PAGE 222 171 83 49 63 106 125 230 *33 334 3*7 335 m 85 40 161 276 42 59 296 "3 137 183 197 266 74 172 177 2 74 3 2 5 L~4 81 114 INDEX 0/ FIRST LINES. XI 11 s more bare So rest, my rest .... Spring is in its beauty glowing Springtide birds are singing, singing Stand on thy watch-tower, Habakkuk the seer Still thy sorrow, Magdalcna! Sun, shine forth in all thy splendor Tell us, Gard'ner, dost thou know The calm of blessed night . The Church of God lifts up her voice The foe behind, the deep before . The golden palace of my God The graves grow thicker, and life's way The happy morn is come The Lord is risen indeed The Lord of life is risen The morning purples all the sky . The orient beams of Easter morn There went three damsels at break of The setting orb of night her level ray The supper of the Lamb to share The tomb is empty : wouldst thou have The winter is over and gone at last The world itself keeps Easter Day They bound him well in the dungeon They who with Mary came . This is the day the Lord hath made This is the very day of God . Thou hallowed chosen morn of praise Thou new Jerusalem, arise and shine ! Thou, that on the first of Easters . Thou whose sad heart and weeping head lyes low Thou, who to save 'Tis He! 'tis He! I know him now 'Tis the day of resurrection . To Him who for our sins was slain ' T was night 1 still night 1 i cell day it full ? 70 *9 147 2 57 16 271 99 20S 220 '54 38 in 214 29 2 54 3 2 3 2SS 14 1 So 27 33* 200 3'S 249 242 XIV INDEX OF FIRST LAVES. Up, and away Up ! sound your joyful songs victorious Weeper ! to thee how bright a morn was given We keep the festival .... Welcome, O day, in dazzling glory bright Welcome the triumphal token We were not with the faithful few What faithless, froward, sinful man What glorious light .... What said He, Mary, unto thee ? . Who comes? my soul, no longer doubt. Who deems the Saviour dead ? Who from the fiery furnace saved the three Who is this that comes from Edom ? . Why, thou never-setting Light Words may not thy glory tell Ye choirs of New Jerusalem Ye sons and daughters of the King Yes, the Redeemer rose 156 2 35 3 1 3*3 5 1 2 95 190 196 268 213 34i S 219 100 75 41 72 202 Entici of latin Junius. PAGE Ad coenam Agni providi 29 Adeste, coelitum chori ....... 94 Ad regias Agni dapes 31 Ad templa nos rursus vocat Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Finita jam sunt praelia .... 66 A morte qui Te suscitans ....... 40 Aurora coelum purpurat 3S Aurora lucis dum novae 88 Aurora lucis rutilat ........ 33 Cedant justi signa luctus 64 Chorus Novae Jerusalem . . . . . . 41 Cceli choris perennibus 74 Ecce dies Celebris ! 52 Ecce tempus est vernale 70 Erumpe tandem juste dolor Forti tegente brachia 8; Haec est dies triumphalis 51 Haec est sancta solemnitas solemnitatum .... 79 Hie est dies verus Dei XVI INDEX OF LA TIN HYMNS. PAGE Jesu, dulcis memoria 45 Jesu, Redemptor saeculi 90 Laudes Christo redempti voce 42 Mitis Agnus, Leo fortis .63 Mortis portis fractis, fortis 47 Mundi renovatio 49 filii et filiae 72 Plaudite cceli 81 Pone luctum, Magdalena ! 61 Rex sempiterne ccelitum 85 Salve, dies dierum gloria 54 Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis aevo 36 Sexta passus feria 56 Surgit Christus cum trophaeo 91 Surrexit Christus hodie 96 Te quanta Victor funeds 75 Victimae Paschali laudes 67, 69 Zyma vetus expurgetur 59 3-ntirx of Hutfjors. The names to which an asterisk is prefixed are those of authors con- cerning whom no biographical data have been obtained. Adam of St. Victor. . . . 49, 51. 52. 54. 56, 59 Adams, Sarah Flower 247 Alexander, Cecil Frances 2;: Alford, Henry . . 257 Allen, William 313 Ambrose, St : Barbauld, Anna L.etitia 211 Baynes, Robert Hall 291 Beaumont, John 175 Bernard of Clairyaux 45 Bethune, George W 31S ♦Blackburn, Thomas 301 Bobroff, Semen Sergejewitsch . . . 99, 100 Boehmer. Justus H. 1^1 BONAR, HORATIUS 254 Bowles, William Lisle 213 Brandenburg, Electress of 127 Bryant, William Cullen 316 Cary, Phcebe 354 Collyer, William Bengo 227 xvii XV111 INDEX OF AUTHORS. Coxe, A. Cleveland 320, 323 Crashaw, Richard 197 Croswell, William 317 Dix, William Chatterton 296 Doddridge, Philip 202 Donne, John 174 Dunbar, William 169 Faber, Frederick W 263, 264 Fletcher, Giles 177 Fortunatus, Venantius 36 Frank, Solomon 129 Franzen, F. Michael 163 Fulbert of Chartres 41 Garve, Christian 139 Gellert, Christian F 135 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von Hi Grahame, James . . . . .... 214 Greenwell, Dora 268 Grundtvig, Nicolai Frederik Severin . . . 105 Hardenberg, Friedrich von 145 Harvey, Christopher 18S Haweis, Thomas 208 Heerman, Johann 123 Hemans, Felicia 233, 235 Herbert, George 183, 185, 186, 187 Herrick, Robert 182 Hill, Thomas 324 Ingelow, Jean 277 Janvier, Francis De Haes 341 John of Damascus . 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15 Keble, John 230 Kelly, Thomas 216, 218, 219, 220 INDEX OJ- AUTHORS. xix Kimball, Harribi m. Kjngo, Thomas . KJNGSLEY, Cii irlss . Klopstock, Fried rich G. Lange, Johanm Pbter LlTTLEDALE, Rl CHARD 1 . . Lowe, Martha P. Luther, Martin M.wt, Richard . MlLMAN, Henry H. . Monsell, John S. li. . Montgomery, James . Moultrie, Gerard . Moultrie, John . Neale, John Mason . Newman, John Henry Newton, John . Noyalis. — See Hardenberg. • 103 • 274 • 1 v >51 3 2 9 120 27.| 22.S 259, 26l . 222 . 2.6 242 207 Peter the Venerable 47 Petersen, Laurence 161 Oueinfurt, Conrad yon 115 * Ramus, 106 Rist, Johann yon 125 Rossetti, Christina G 2S1 Russell, Arthur T. 249, 250 Sandys, George 172 Schweizer, Meta Hausser 150 Sea ye r, Emily 331 Scott, Thomas 210 Spenser, Edmund 171 Spitta, C. J. P 147 XX INDEX OF AUTHORS. Taylor, Jeremy 196 Tersteegen, Gerhard 133 Thompson, Alexander Ramsay 325 Trend, Henry 245 Tourneaux, Nicholas Le 94 Vaughn, Henry 199, 200 Ware, Henry, Jun . . 314 Waring, Anna L^etitia 285 Washburn, E. A . . 332 Watts, Isaac 201 Wesley, Charles 204 Whitney, A. D. T 326 Whytehead, Thomas 266 Wither, George 180 Wordsworth, Christopher 251 Entirx of (Translators. Blew, William John 94 Borthwick, Jane 139 Bowring, John 99, 100 Caswall, Edward 45. 69, ) Chambers. John David Chandler, John Charles, Elizabeth 27. 29,47, 81 Cox, Frances Elizabeth 155 Pix. William Chatterton . . .14, 15, 16, 17, 18 Findlater, Mrs. Eric 159 Harbaugh, Henry 154 Hedge. Frederick H 141 Hewett, John William 79, 91 Hitchcock, A. P 163 Kvnaston, Herbert 04 LlTTLEDALE. RlCHARD FREDERICK . 42. 56, 14;. l6l Massie, Richard 147 Xeale, John Mason. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,8, i .11. 12. 33, 52, 59, 66, 72 xxi XX11 INDEX OF TRANSLATORS. Onslow, Phipps 19, 74 Porter, Thomas C 150 Smith, John George 40 Tait, Gilbert 103, 105, 106 Thompson, Alexander Ramsay . . . . 31, 38 Thompson, Henry 156 Trend, Henry 63, ;o Washburn, E. A 61 Weiss, Michael 118 Williams, Isaac 90 Winkworth, Catherine . in, 113, 114, 115, 118, 120, 123, 125, 127, 131, 133, 13;, 145 Worsley, P. S 49, 51 Entrotmcttcm. IN the early Church, the Resurrection of Christ was regarded as the most important fact in the record of His life, and still more as the foremost article of Christian belief, — as that without which it was impossible to place any confidence in the Saviour's teachings, or to ascribe any efficacy to His death. " If Christ be not risen." writes St. Paul, "our preaching is vain, and your faith is also vain." This event has left a deeper impress on the world's history than any other on record. It does not depend for its evi- dence even on the Gospels. Were they lost or dis- credited, there yet occurred, beyond a doubt, in the century to which they relate, intellectual, moral, and social developments and changes, which can be accounted for only by the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. The sceptics of our own time ad- mit that the Apostles could not have held together or pursued their work of propagandism, and that Christianity could not have survived its Founder's XXIV INTRODUCTION. cross, had not His followers felt certain that their Master had risen, and that they had seen Him. It is conceded even by Renan, that the stories of the Evangelists are honest statements of what they thought had passed under the eyes of various groups of disciples, — at one time, of several hundred per- sons. But he does not explain how an optical illu- sion could have been kept up at intervals for forty days, before different groups, and in clear sunlight, in the open air, on the lake-shore and the moun- tain-side, no less than in the evening-gloom of the upper chamber. That the whole Church believed in the reality of this life from the dead, we have abundant evidence. St. Paul's earliest Epistles were confessedly written but a few years after the crucifixion, and they con- stantly refer to the Resurrection as a fact undoubted in Christian circles. In the generation next suc- ceeding that of the Apostles, there grew up a con- troversy as to the proper time of keeping Easter ; and appeal was then made to primitive usage, as if the Resurrection had been celebrated from the very first. Indeed, we know it had from the be- ginning a weekly celebration : for there is not the slightest trace of any religious observance of the first day of the week before the time of Christ ; while we find that it was a day of Christian wor- ship within a few weeks after He had disappeared from the earth, and we have abundant proof that it was so hallowed as the day on which He rose. INTRODUCTION. XXV This event is properly railed the resurrection, the rising again, — not the coming of the dead to life, but the re-appearance of Him who had lived on in death, and who returned to the dead body to show that it is the body alone that can die. Thus our Saviour in His own person " abolished death," — blotted it out from among the possible experiences of any and every living soul. Those, then, who have gone from us, and have seemed to die, still live ; and for us death will be but a passage from life to life. All this might, indeed, have been proclaimed on Divine authority ; but mere words — even though words of God — would have foiled fully to meet man's needs. No event takes so strong hold as death on the imagination and the emotional nature. The altered countenance, the wasted frame, the agony of parting, the grave with its mysterious horrors, cannot but recur to make the memory of the departed intensely painful, and to shroud in the densest gloom the prospect of our own dissolution. It is therefore a solace of indispensable need, and unspeakable worth and efficacy, that all the sad accessories of death in their most appalling forms were about our Lord, and that they have all been transfigured by His rising, — symbols no longer of decay and corruption, but of emancipation into the higher and eternal life. The Resurrection is thus brought within the field of poetry. While it commends itself to faith by XXVI INTRODUCTION. an array of impregnable proof, it equally appeals to feeling and sentiment. The gorgeous beauty of an Oriental spring surrounding the Sepulchre with bloom and fragrance ; the rolling-away of the rock by unseen hands ; the white-robed angels where the dead had lain ; the procession of the sorrowing women ; the interview with Mary Magdalene ; the movements — so perfectly in character — of Peter and John ; the walk to Emmaus, and the supper there ; the leaping from mouth to mouth and from heart to heart of the glad tidings, " The Lord has risen indeed ! " — these, and not a few other features of the scene and incidents of the day, have in them elements of transcending beauty and grandeur, and furnish a mine of poetic fancy and imagery, which has been worked from the very birth-time of Chris- tian hymnology, and which will still open new and rich veins for sacred lyrics in all coming genera- tions. A volume of Easter-hymns might, at first thought, promise but little variety. The truth is far other- wise. As from a few lines and tints an endless number of patterns, all differing from one another, may be drawn for a carpet or a wall-paper, so may innumerable combinations and groupings be made from a few simple incidents, with the associations inseparable from them, and the thoughts that natu- rally flow from them. It is thus that no two hymns on the same subject are alike, and that no hymn that unites devotional and poetic merit can ever be INTRODUCTION. xxvii dispensed with because of its resemblance to an- other. This is especially true of the hymns and poems that commemorate the Resurrection, theme of sacred song has a wider range. It con- nects itself with all our sorrows, our hopes, and our joys; with all that sheds sun-rays of heaven upon our earthly life ; with the blessed memories of those who sleep in Jesus ; with the fellowship that unites the households which death has parted, and makes of the whole family of Christian believers " one church, above, beneath." Nor has there been any subject which has called forth so wide a diversity of inspiration. We have the rich mellifluous strains of the old Greek hymns, the terse, sonorous, majestic melodies of the Latin Church, the calm, meditative fervor of the German Muse, and, in our own tongue, the quaintness of our early poets, and, in later time, every mood of lyric rhythm, now slow and solemn, now soaring and jubilant as the song of the lark, and again in a tone of tender and subdued gladness, as of one whose inward vision turns from the grave of buried kindred to the place where the Lord lay. May this Easter offering lift many hearts in glad thanksgiving to Him who has conquered death, in whom the dead live, and in whom he that believeth shall never die ! ANDREW P\ PEABODY. 'STILL on the lips of all we question The finger of God's silence lies: Shall the lost hands in ours be folded ? Will the shut eyelids ever rise? O friends! no proof beyond this yearning, This outreach of our souls, we need : God will not mock the hope He givcth ; No love He prompts shall vainly plead. Then let us stretch our hands in darkness, And call our loved ones o'er and o'er: Some time their arms shall close about us, And the old voices speak once more." J. G. Whittier. JTrom tl)c (Brcck. > U csu vgit. Tis tljc Dag of ftcsurrfctton. By St. John Da] ho was unquestionably the greatest of the poets of the Eastern Church. The date of his birth is unknown; and of his death all that is certain is that it occurred after 754, and before 787. He was born of a good family, made great progress in philosophy, was an eloquent adversary of the Iconoclasts, resided for a time at the monastery of St. Sabas in Palestine, and late in life was ordained priest of the Church of Jerusalem. The following is the first Ode of his great Easter Canon, which is to this day sung by the Greek Church, at the first hour of Easter morning, with even,' sort of jubilant accompaniment, — the flashing of light from thousands of tapers, the joyous strains of bands of music, the roll of drums, and thunder of cannon. The translation Rev. J. M. NEALE, I). D., and is contained in his "Hymns of the Eastern Church." See biographical note prefixed to the piece, " The Foe behind, the Deep before." IS the Day of Resurrection : Earth ! tell it out abroad ! The Passover of Gladness, The Passover of God. From Death to Life eternal, From this world to the sky, Our Christ hath brought us over, With hymns of victory. 3 LET US DRINK OF THAT NEW RIVER. Our hearts be pure from evil, That we may see aright The Lord in rays eternal Of Resurrection-Light ; And, listening to His accents, May hear, so calm and plain, His own All Hail ! — and, hearing, May raise the victor strain ! Now let the Heavens be joyful ! Let Earth her song begin ! Let the round world keep triumph, And all that is therein ; Invisible and visible, Their notes let all things blend ; For Christ the Lord hath risen, — Our joy that hath no end. Come, anti 3Lrt us Brinft of tijat Neto By St. John Damascene: the third Ode in his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Xeale. OME, and let us drink of that New River, Not from barren rock divinely poured, "AND ON T//Y WATCH-TOWER. 5 But the Fount of Life that is forever From the sepulchreof Christ the LorH All the world hath bright illumination, — I leaven and Earth, and things beneath the earth : Tis the festival of all Creation ; Christ hath risen, Who gave Creation birth. Yesterday with Thee in burial lying, Now to-day with Thee arisen, I rise: Yesterday the partner of Thy dying, With Thyself upraise me to the skies. Stant) on tljrj BHatcfcSTofoer, |?afeaftftuft tljr Seer. By St. John Damascene: the fourth Ode in his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Xeale. TAXD on thy watch-tower, Habak- kuk the Seer, And show the Angel, radiant in his light: " To-day," saith he, u Salvation shall appear, Because the Lord hath risen as God of might" 6 LET US RISE IX EARLY MORNING, The male that opes the Virgin's womb is He : The Lamb of Whom His faithful people eat ; Our truer Passover, from blemish free ; Our very God, Whose name is all complete. This yearling Lamb, our Sacrifice most blest, Our glorious Crown, for all men freely dies : Behold our Pascha, beauteous from His rest, The healing Sun of Righteousness arise. Before the ark, a type to pass away, David of old time danced : we, holier race, Seeing the Antitype come forth to-dav, Hail, with a shout, Christ's own almighty irrace. ikt us £visc in !5arlg fSorntng* By St. John Damascene: the fifth Ode in his Easter Canon, Translated by Dr. Neale. ET us rise in early morning, And, instead of ointments, bring Hymns of praises to our Master, And His Resurrection sing : We shall see the Sun of Justice, Risen with healing on His wing. :/ EARTH'S LOWEST PARTS / Thy unbounded loving-kindn They that groaned in Hades' chain, Prisoners, from afar beholding, 1 i istened to the light again ; And to that eternal Pascha Wove the dance, and raised the strain. Go ye forth, His Saints, to meet Him ! Go with lamps in every hand ! From the sepulchre He riseth : Ready for the Bridegroom stand : And the Pascha of Salvation Hail, with his triumphant band ! Into tijc Dim IZartfj's ILoforst $3 arts Descending* By St. John Damascene: the sixth Ode in his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Xeale. XTO the dim earth's lowest parts descending, — ^^ And bursting by Thy might the infernal chain That bound the prisoners, Thou, at three days' ending, As Jonah from the whale, hast risen again. 8 WHO FROM THE FIERY FURNACE Thou brakest not the seal, Thy surety's token, Arising from the tomb, Who left'st in birth The portals of virginity unbroken, Opening the gates of heaven to sons of earth. Thou, Sacrifice ineffable and living, Didst to the Father by Thyself atone As God eternal ; resurrection giving To Adam, general parent, by Thine own. SHIjo from tfje JFterg jfttrnace Sa&eU tije By St. John Damascene: the seventh Ode of his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Neale. HO from the fiery furnace saved the Three, Suffers as mortal; that, His Passion o'er, This mortal, triumphing o'er death, might b^ Vested with immortality once more : He whom our fathers still confest God over all, forever blest. SAVED THE THREE. y The women with their ointment seek the tomb ; And Whom they mourned as dead, with many a tear, They worship now, joy dawning on their gloom, As Living God, as mystic Passover; Then to the Lord's disciples gave The tidings of the vanquished grave. We keep the festal of the death of death ; Of hell o'erthrown ; the first-fruits, pure and bright, Of life eternal ; and, with joyous breath, Praise Him that won the victory by His might : Him Whom our fathers still confest God over all, forever blest. All hallowed festival, in splendor born ! Night of salvation and of glory ! Night Fore-heralding the Resurrection morn ! When from the tomb the everlasting Light, A glorious frame once more His own, Upon the world in splendor shone. IO THOU HALLOWED CHOSEN MORN. STfjou f&allotortj Cfjogen flom of praise. By St. John Damascene: the eighth Ode of his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Neale. HOU hallowed chosen morn of praise, That best and greatest shinest ! t Lady and Queen and Day of days, Of things divine, divinest ! On thee our praises Christ adore For ever and for evermore. Come, let us taste the Vine's new fruit, For heavenly joy preparing ; To-day the branches with the Root In Resurrection sharing: Whom as True God our hymns adore, For ever and for evermore. Rise, Sion, rise, and, looking forth, Behold thy children round thee! From East and West, and South and North, Thy scattered sons have found thee ! And in thy bosom Christ adore For ever and for evermore. THOU NEW JERUSALEM, ARISE! \ I < I Father ! < ) co-equal Son ! I l o-eternal Spirit ! In Persons Three, in Substance One, And ( )ne in power and merit : In Thee baptized, we Thee adore For ever and for evermore ! Cfjou Xcfo Jerusalem, 3rtsc anti iSfjmc ! By St. J >hn Damascene: the ninth Ode in his Easter Canon. Translated by Dr. Neale. There is another translation by William Chatterton Dix, beginning, " Shine, shine, New Jerusalem; HOU Xew Jerusalem, arise and shine! The grlorv of the Lord on thee hath ■ risen. Sion, exult ! rejoice with joy divine ! Mother of God! Thy Son hath burst his prison ! O heavenly Voice ! O word of purest love ! " Lo ! I am with you alway to the end ! " This is the anchor, steadfast from above, — The golden anchor, whence our hopes depend. 12 COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAIN. O Christ, our Pascha ! greatest, holiest, best ! God's Word and Wisdom and effectual Might ! Thy fuller, lovelier presence manifest, In that eternal realm that knows no night ! Come, |fe jFattijM, Batse tfje Strain. From St. John Damascene, by Dr. Neale. It is commonly classed among Easter hymns, although it belongs in his canon for St. Thomas's Sunday, or Low Sunday, as indicated by the allusion in the last stanza. jiOME, ye faithful, raise the strain Of triumphant gladness ! God hath brought His Israel Into joy from sadness ; Loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke Jacob's sons and daughters ; Led them with unmoistened foot * Through the Red Sea waters. 'Tis the spring of souls to-day ! Christ hath burst His prison ; And, from three days' sleep in death, As a sun hath risen. COM/:, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAW. I 3 All the winter of our sins, Long and dark, is flying From His light, to Whom we give Laud and praise undying. Now the queen of seasons, bright With the day of splendor, With the royal Feast of feasts, Comes its joy to render ; Comes to glad Jerusalem, Who with true affection Welcomes, in unwearied strains, Jesu's Resurrection. Neither might the gates of death, Nor the tomb's dark portal, N >r the watchers, nor the seal, Hold Thee as a mortal ; But to-day amidst the twelve Thou didst stand, bestowing That Thy peace, which evermore Passeth human knowing. 14 THEY WHO 11777/ MARY CAME. (Ljjcii foljo fottfj ffiarg came. From the Greek of St. John Damascene, translated by William Chatterton Dix. See biographical note prefixed to the hymn, " Put on Thy Beautiful Robes, Bride of Christ." HEY who with Mary came, Before the dawn of day, Soon found that from the sepulchre The stone was rolled away. Then to those fearful souls The shining Angel said, — Him who in light eternal dwells, Why seek ye with the dead ? The grave-clothes see, and haste The joyful news to tell : The Lord is risen, and He hath been The death of death and hell. He is the Son of God, Who saves the human race : Xo more shall death destroy, no more The ancient foe have place. IF THE DARK AND AWFUL TOMB. ft tljr Darft anti 3foful Comb. This also is from the ('.reck of St. JOHN DAMASCENE, ami the trans- lation by William C. I > i x . | |F the dark and awful tomb Thou, immortal One, hast known, Rising, in Thy deathless bloom, Hades Thou hast overthrown. Yes ; as Victor Thou hast burst All the bands of hell, and said, Hail ! to those who sought Thee first, Bearing ointment for the dead ; Peace, Thy earliest, sweetest gift, Unto Thine Apostles given ; All the fallen Thou didst lift From the crates of hell to heaven. 1 6 THE CHURCH OF COD. Cfje Cfjurcfj of ffiotr lifts up f^rr Fotcr. A Greek Paschal hymn, from the Offices of the Greek Church, trans- lated by William C. Dix. HE Church of God lifts up her voice ; To-day both heaven and earth re- joice : The gladsome Passover is here, — The Passover of Christ most dear. The Passover that frees from woe, That binds in chains the ancient foe, That opens wide the heavenly gate, The Lord's own day, we celebrate. From "very early" until night, One strain we lift, one shout of might : With Eucharist the morn arose, With Hallelujahs day shall close. O Christ, eternal Pascha, Thou, And Crown for every willing brow ! Thou spotless Lamb and Victor bright, Arrayed in more than morning light ! CHRIST, WE SING THY SAVING PASSION 17 On this Thy Resurrection-day strife and hate put faraway, That those who in thy likeness live May each his brother's wrongs forgive. The earth in festal raiment stands, The floods for gladness clap their hands : Then higher still, and higher raise The true, the living Pascha's praise. Cijrtst, foe $in$ 3TIjo Sa&mg passion. From the Offices of the Greek Church, translated by William C. Dix. HRIST, we sing Thy saving passion: Thine arising glorify : Death forever to abolish, Thou upon the Cross didst die ; Then from Hades Thou didst hasten, As alone omnipotent : Grant us peace in life, Redeemer, Joy when earthly life is spent. Sing we now Thy condescension, Christ, with God the Father One ; We in lofty hymns will praise Thee, Mary-Mother's Blessed Son. 1 8 THOSE WHO SEEK THE BREAK OF DAY. Thou for us as Alan didst suffer, Willingly the Cross didst bear; That Thy resurrection-glory, We, the sons of men, may share. Coming as from bridal chamber, Robed with orient morning-light ; Bringing to the world salvation, Spoiling hell of all her might ; Raising, by Thy resurrection, Man to dignity most high : Christ, may we with pure thanksgiving Thee forever glorify ! Ste £f)ose foijo Seeft tfje Brtafe of Bag. Translated from the Offices of the Greek Church, by William C. Dix. |S those who seek the break of day Full early in the morning, The women came where Jesus lay, Who late had borne the scorning. Sweet ointment in their hands they brought, And, ere the sun had risen, The Sun of Righteousness they sought, Now set within death's prison. SPRINGTIDE BIRDS ARE SINGING. ig And thus they cried : ''The Body h< Let us give new anointing; The quickening flesh, the Body dear, Which, by Divine appointing, From this chirk sepulchre shall rise, id Adam's race deliver, And lift the fallen to the skies, To reign in bliss forever." And, like the Magi, hasten we To Him with love adoring: Sweet spices, too, our gifts shall be, And we must weep, imploring That He, in swaddling clothes no more, But in fine linen lying, Would -"rant the fallen, when life is o'er. The gift of life undying. SpringtitJC BtrtiS arc Ringing, Singing- The following i> contained in <; Lyra My>tica," under the title "The Salutation of the Greek Church on Easter Day." The translation is by- Rev. PmPPS ONSLOW. See the biographical notice prefixed to the hymn, " Saints on Earth, and Saints in Light." PRIXGTIDE birds are singing, sing- ing, For the daybreak in the East : Silver bells are ringing, ringing. For the Church's glorious Feast. 20 SPRINGTIDE BIRDS ARE SINGING. Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! Sin's long triumph now is o'er. Christ is risen ! Death's dark prison Now can hold His Saints no more. Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! Holy women sought Him weeping, Weeping at the break of dawn, — Sought their Lord where He lay sleeping, In the love of hearts forlorn. Life for death on death's throne meeting, Joy for sorrow, faith for fear, For their tears the Angel's greeting, — Christ is risen ! He is not here. Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! Loved Apostles, scarce believing In His triumph o'er the grave, Hear the tale amid their grieving, Hasten eager to the Cave ; Find the folded grave-clothes lying, Death's unloosed and shattered chain, Find Him gone, death's power defying, From the Cavern sealed in vain. Christ is risen! risen, Brother! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! RING TIDE BIRDS ARE SINGING, 21 Mary coi For her mourning and I me : Lo! a well-known voice is speakii : calls her name. First, the life o'er sin victorious, She who wept for sin adored, For her tears the mission glorious To announce the Risen Lord. Christ is risen! risen. Brother! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! For her tears, O glad reversing Of the Woman's work of old, Glorious tidings now rehearsing ; t the tale in Eden told, W'mnan's voice, that tale supplying, Brought in death by Satan's lie : Woman's voice is now replying, — Christ is risen ! we shall not die. Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! Where the noontide rays are falling On the rugged mountain-side, Brethren journey, sad recalling How He loved, and how He died. 22 SPRINGTIDE BIRDS ARE SINGING. He is with them ! He is hearing- How their trust and hope had fled, To their loving faith appearing In the blessing of the Bread. Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! Flashing back the sunset glory, Burns a casement high and dim : There the Ten, on all His Story Sadly dwelling, speak of Him. He is there ! the Light that never Into twilight fades away ; Day-star of the Dawn that ever Breaks into the perfect Day ! Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! Saints, your Cross in patience bearing, Mourners stained with many a tear, Penitents, in sorrow wearing Darkest weeds of shame and fear, — Christ is risen ! lose your sadness, Joying with the joyous throng: Faithful hearts will find their gladness, Joining in the Easter song, Christ is risen ! risen, Brother ! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! SPRINGTIDE BIRDS ARE SINGING. Christ is risen ! Christ the Living, All His mourners' tears to stay ; Christ is risen ! Christ, forgiving, Wipes the stain of sin away. Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! Sin's long triumph now is o'er ; Christ is risen ! Death's dark prison Holds His faithful never more. Christ is risen! risen, Brother! Brother, Christ is risen indeed ! irom tl)c Catin. THIS IS THE VERY DAY OF GOD. 27 ftljts is tj)c Ferg Qau of Goti. (Hie est Dies verus Dei.) By St. Ambrose, born probably at Treves, about 340, died in 397. His father was prefect of Gaul, and the son was intended for a secular career. He practised as an advocate at Milan, and was far advanced in civil preferment — having been appointed consular prefect of Liguria in 370 — when he was suddenly chosen Bishop of Milan, in 374, by an im- pulsive and unanimous vote of the people, although he was then only a layman, and unbaptized. He was a man of dauntless courage, and his strong and austere hymns inspired the people to render him their support in his defence of the integrity of the Creed, and the spiritual authority of the Church. Many hymns have been ascribed to him on insufficient evidence: the authenticity of the following rests on the excellent authority of F. J. Mone. The translation is by Mrs. Elizabeth Charles. [HIS is the very day of God : Serene with holy light it came, — In which the stream of sacred blood Swept over the world's crime and shame. Lost souls with faith once more it filled, The darkness from blind eyes dissolved : Whose load of fear too great to yield, Seeing the dying thief absolved? 28 THIS IS THE VERY DAY OF GOD. Changing the cross for the reward, That moment's faith obtains his Lord : Before the just his spirit flies; The first-fruits enters Paradise. The angels ponder, wondering ; They see the body's pain and strife, They see to Christ the guilty cling, And reap at once the blessed life. O admirable Mystery ! The sins of all are laid on Thee ; And Thou, to cleanse the world's deep stain, As man dost bear the sins of men. What can be ever more sublime ? That grace might meet the guilt of time, Love doth the bonds of fear undo, And death restores our life anew. Death's fatal spear himself doth wound ; With his own fetters he is bound. Lo ! dead the Life of all men lies, That life anew for all might rise. That, since death thus hath passed on all, The dead might all arise again ; By his own death-blow death might fall, And o'er his unshared fall complain. i THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. 2f the hymn is uncertain; but it U one of the most ancient, and has been by some ascribed to M. An;: fHE Supper of the Lamb to share, We come, in vesture white and fair; The Red Sea crossed, our hymn we sing To Christ, our Captain and our King. His holy body on the cross, Parched, on that altar hung for us ; And, drinking of His crimson blood, We live upon the living God. Protected in the Paschal night From the destroying angel's might, And by a powerful hand set free From Pharaoh's bitter slavery. For Christ our Passover is slain, The Lamb is offered not in vain ; 30 THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. With truth's sincere unleavened bread, His flesh He gave, His blood He shed. Victim ! worthy Thou forever, Who didst the bands of hell dissever ! Redeem Thy captives from the foe, The gift of life afresh bestow. When Christ from out the tomb arose, Victor o'er hell and all His foes, The tyrant forth in chains He drew, And planted Paradise anew. Author of all, to Thee we pray, In this our Easter joy to-day : From every weapon Death can wield, Thy trusting people ever shield ! WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. Zllc Urrp tfjc JFrstifaal. ./' dopes.) From the Roman B r ev iar y, altered from ihe preoed :ymn, ic following I i . I »r. ontributed to i iff s " Christ ted at the University of New York. 1S42; and was ordained minister of the Dutch Reformed Church. He gue of the late Rev. I >r. Bethune. Another 1 I . iward I the Lamb's high royal feast." The spirited :>al Hymnal, beginning, ,: At the Lamb's hij we sing altered by the compilers of "Hymns Ancient and Modern," from a translation by Robert Campbell (1850). The hymn beginning, " Once the angel started back," in the Episcopal Hymnal, is a part of a translation of the same hymn, by John Williams (born at •ant Bishop of Connecticut, 103:- Bishop, 1865 to the present time). E keep the festival Of the slain Lamb our King ; The Red Sea passed, And safe at last, Our Leader's praise we sing. His love ineffable He pledged in precious blood ; And Priest most high, The altar by, Himself devoting, stood. 32 WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. The sacred crimson sign The avenging angel knew ; And the sea fled Back at Christ's tread, And gave a pathway through. Christ is our Passover ! And we will keep the feast With the new leaven, The bread of Heaven : All welcome, even the least ! O Heavenly Champion ! Death thought to vanquish Thee ! But Death is slain ; And Thou again Art risen, and we are free. Hail, mighty Conqueror ! Under Thy glorious feet The tyrant lies, And gasps, and dies : What praise for Thee is meet ? Forth from the gloomy prison Jesus, we follow Thee, With broken chain, With ended pain, To life and liberty ! LIGHT'S GLITTERING MORN. 33 All glory be to Thee ! All worship to Thy name I Thee we adore, And evermore Will celebrate thy fame ! ILtgljt's Glittering fHorn Brtccfcs tlje 8>fy. {Aurora Iucis rut Hat.) Ascribed to St. AMBROSE, 340-397. The following version is given by the compilers of " Hymns Ancient and Modern," altered from Dr. 's translation. Mrs. Charles has written a somewhat smoother and freer translation; but the following is preferable, because of its close ad- herence to the form and spirit oi the original. Mrs. Charles's version begins, " The morning kindles all the sky." WIGHT'S glittering morn bedecks the sky, 3H Heaven thunders forth its victor-cry, The glad earth shouts her triumph high, And groaning hell makes wild reply ; While He, the King, the mighty King, Despoiling Death of all its sting, And trampling down the powers of night, Brings forth His ransomed saints to Light. 34 LIGHT'S GLITTERING MORN His Tomb of late the threefold guard . Of watch and stone and seal had barred ; But now, in pomp and triumph high, He comes from death to Victory. The pains of hell are loosed at last, The clays of mourning now are past ; An Angel robed in light hath said, "The Lord is risen from the dead." The Apostles' hearts were full of pain For their dear Lord so lately slain, By rebel servants doomed to die A death of cruel agony. With gentle voice the Angel gave The women tidings at the grave : " Fear not, your Master shall ye see ; He goes before to Galilee." Then, hastening on their eager way The joyful tidings to convey, Their Lord they met, their living Lord, And, falling at His feet, adored. The Eleven, when they hear, with speed To Galilee forthwith proceed, LIGHTS GUTTERING MORN. 35 That there once more they may behold The Lord's dear Face, as He foretold. That Easter-tide with joy was bright, The sun shone out with fairer light, When, to their longing eyes restored, The Apostles saw their risen Lord. He bade them see His hands, His side, Where yet the glorious wounds abide ; O tokens true, which made it plain Their Lord indeed was risen again ! Jesu, the King of Gentleness, Do Thou Thyself our hearts possess, That we may give Thee, all our days, The tribute of our grateful praise ! 36 HAIL, DAY OF DAYS'. f&ail, Eao of Sags ! Jfo Prate of praise. {Salve , y&rto Z>/>j, fato vencrabilis < ^t man <>i ! and Luther speaks of him as " the best monk that ever li\' the son lucated at the University of Paris. His early inclined him to a monastic life; and, after three years spent in the Cistercian monastery of Citeaux, at the age of twenty-five appoint 1 new monastery at Clairvaux. This position he re- tained till his death, declining repeated offers of high preferment. He ften appealed to for counsel by kings and popes, and it was through his persuasion that the Kin^ of Prance undertook the crusade of 1x46. The following i> the first part of his Jubilation on the Name of Jesus, a hymn of about two hundred lines, which Dr. Schaff characterizes as the st and most evangelical of the mid I he translation is by WALL* There are translations by Xeale, Mrs. Charles, and others; but Mr. Caswall's is the sweetest and smoothest In l)r. Schaffs "Christ in Song," in " Hymns Ancient and Modern," and in nearly all hymn-l)ooks, — for the lines have found their way into universal hymnol- ■ >nly the first four or five verses of this part are given. The last four verses entitle it to a place with Easter poems, and are quite too beau- tiful to be cast aside. The quotation is taken directly from Mr. Cas- wall's volume of "Hymns and Poems," with the lines which have been mutilated or marred by the hymn-menders restored. ESU, the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills my breast ; But sweeter far Thy face to see, And in Thy presence rest. Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, Xor can the memory find, 46 JESU t THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. A sweeter sound than Thy blest name, O Saviour of mankind ! O hope of every contrite heart ! O joy of all, the meek ! To those who fall, how kind Thou art ! How good to those who seek ! But what to those who find ? Ah, this Xor tongue nor pen can show : The love of Jesus, what it is, None but His lovers know. O Jesu, Light of all below ! Thou Fount of life and fire ! Surpassing all the joys we know, And all we can desire ! Thee will I seek, at home, abroad, Who everywhere art nigh ; Thee in my bosom's cell, O Lord, As on my bed I lie. With Mary to Thy tomb I'll haste, Before the dawning skies ; And all around, with longing, cast My soul's inquiring eyes ; 77//-; GATES OF DEATH ARE BROKEN. 4/ Beside Thy grave will make my moan, \wk\ sob my heart away ; Then at Thy feet sink trembling down, And there adoring stay ; Nor from my tears and sighs retrain, Nor those dear feet release, My Jesu, till from Thee I gain Some blessed word of peace ! Ho, tfje &ates of ©rati) are Broken. [Mortis port is fractis^ fort is.) By Peter the Venerable, born in Auvergne, in 1092 or 1094, of a noble family; died in 1156. He was elected abbot of Clugny in 1122, and it was with him that Abelard found shelter after the condemnation of his errors. He was a contemporary of Bernard of Clairvaux, and engaged in a keen controversy with him over the relative merits of the Clugniac and Cistercian monks. He gave to Christendom its first accurate trans- lation of the Koran, and he wrote a refutation of Mahometanism. The following translation is by Mrs. Charles. [JO, the gates of death are broken, And the strong man armed is spoiled, — Of his armor, which he trusted, By the Stronger Arm despoiled. Vanquished is the prince of hell, Smitten by the Cross he fell. 48 THE GA TES OF DEA TH ARE BROKEN. Then the purest light resplendent Shone those seats of darkness through, When, to save whom he created, God willed to create anew. That the sinner might not perish, For him the Creator dies ; By Whose death our dark lot changing, Life again for us doth rise. Satan groaned, defeated then, When the Victor ransomed men ; Fatal was to him the strife, Unto man the source of life ; Captured as he seized his prey, He is slain as he would slay. Thus the King all hell hath vanquished Gloriously and mightily ; On the first day leaving Hades, Victor He returns on high. Thus God brought man back to heaven, When He rose from out the grave, The pure primal life bestowing, Which creating first He gave. By the sufferings of his Maker, To his perfect Paradise The first dweller thus returneth, Wherefore these dad sons;s arise. THE WORLD'S FRESH DAWN OF BIRTH. 49 Xoto tijf RlorlVs jFrrslj Dafon of Btrtli. [Mundi Renava tio. ) ])\ \ S V Neale and Trench agree in n : ►f mediaeval poets. H< a is born in Brittany,— in what year is uncertain, — and died about the year 1192. He was the author of more than a hundred sequences, which were i pub- lished by M. Gautier in 1858. Hi>> hymns are full of I t allu- - types to illustrate N - 1 nt truths; and the '■en predominates over the devotional interest. But his rich melody, and an exquisite art and variety, and abounds in deep and tender feeling. The following fine translation is by P. S. WbsSLEY. m OW the world's fresh dawn of birth Teems with new rejoicings rife : Christ is rising, and on earth All things with Him rise to life. Feeling this memorial day, Him the elements obey, Serve, and lay aside their strife. Gleamy fire flits to and fro, Throbs the everlasting air, Water without pause doth flow, And the earth stands firm and fair; Light creations upward leap, Heavier to the centre keep, All things renovation share. 50 THE WORLD'S FRESH DA WN OF BIRTH. Clearer are the skies above, And more quiet is the sea ; Each low wind is full of love, Our own vale is blooming free ; Dryness flushing into green, Warm delight where frost hath been, For spring cometh tenderly. Melted is the ice of death, And the world's prince driven away ; From amidst us vanisheth All his old tyrannic sway. He, who sought to clasp more tight That wherein he held no right, Fails of his peculiar prey. Life is vanquisher of Death, And the joy man lost of old, That he now recovereth, Even Paradise to hold. For the cherub keeping ward, By the promise of the Lord, Turns the many-flaming sword, And the willing; gates unfold. WELCOME THE TRIUMPHAL TOKEN. 51 ■ BHelcome tljr tTriumpfjal Soften. (ffctc est Dies Triumphalis.) By \: iam of St Victor. Translated by P. S. W< ■ • note to the preceding hymn.) jELCOME the triumphal token, — Day to ruined world how sweet, When thefoeman's power was broken, And our ills found comfort meet ! Know ye not this day so splendid, Shining with so fair a crown, Witnessed Sin's dominion ended, And the Evil One cast down ? Then, the Prince of Darkness flying, Every baneful charm did cease ; Health came to the sick and dying, Rose on earth the reign of peace ; Death the sting of death undoing, Hope of life returned to-day ; Sin's stronghold was hurled to ruin, And pollution chased away. Since, then, Christ our souls hath cherished In a union such as this, 52 HAIL THE MUCH-REMEMBERED DAY! And on earth hath freely perished * For the things we wrought amiss, Lightly may we hymn His story, And our Paschal banquet spread ; Heart, word, work, proclaim His glory, Rising with Him from the dead. Sail tfjre JHurfj^ememfaretr IBagt (Ecce Dies Celebris !) By Adam of St. Victor. Translated by Rev. J. M. Neale, D.D. AIL the much-remembered Day ! Night from morning flies away ; Life the chains of Death hath burst : Gladness, welcome ! Grief, begone ! Greater glory draweth on Than confusion at the first. Flies the shadowy from the true : Flies the ancient from the new : Comfort hath each tear dispersed. Hail, our Pascha, that wast dead ! What preceded in the Head, That each member hopes to gain ; HAIL Tin-: MUCH-REMEMBERED DAY! 53 Christ, our newer Pascha now, Late* in death content to how, When the spotless Lamb was slain. From the Cross's pole of glory Flows the must of ancient story In the Church's wine-vat stored : From the press, now trodden duly, Gentile first-fruits gathered newly Brink the precious liquor poured. Sackcloth, worn with foul abuses, Passes on to royal uses ; Grace in that garb at length we see, The Flesh hath conquered misery. They, by whom their monarch perished, Lost the kingdom that they cherished ; And, for a sign and wonder, Cain Is set, who never shall be slain. Reprobated and rejected Was this Stone, that, now elected, For a Trophy stands erected, And a precious Corner-stone : Sin's, not Nature's, termination, He creates a new creation, And, Himself their colligation, Binds two peoples into one. 54 THE DAY THE LORD HATH MADE. Give we glory to the Head, O'er the members love be shed ! Bdjoltr tfjc Dag tfje Eorti fjatfj malic! (Salve, Dies Die rum Gloria.) By Adam of St. Victor. Translated by H. R. B., in Rev. Orby Shipley's " Lyra Messianica." gjEHOLD the Day the Lord hath made ! That peerless day which cannot fade ; That day of light, that day of joy, Of glory which shall never cloy. The day on which the world was framed Has signal honor ever claimed ; But Christ, arising from the dead, Unrivalled brightness o'er it shed. In hope of their celestial choice, Now let the sons of light rejoice : Christ's members in their lives declare What likeness to their Head they bear. For solemn is our feast to-day, And solemn are the vows we pay : THE DAY THE LORD HATH MADE. 55 This day's surpassing greatness claims Surpassing joy, surpassing aims. The Paschal victory displays The glory of our festal days ; Which type and shadow dimly bore, In promise to the saints of yore. The veil is rent ; and lo ! unfold The things the ancient Law foretold : The figure from the substance flies, And light the shadow's place supplies. The type the spotless Lamb conveyed, The goat, where Israel's sins were laid ; Messiah, purging our offence, Disclosed in all their hidden sense. By freely yielding up His breath, He freed us from the bonds of death ; Who on that Prey forbidden flew, And lost the prey that was his due. The ills on sinful flesh that lay His sinless flesh hath done away, Which, blooming fresh on that third morn, Assurance gave to souls forlorn. 56 CHRIST, UPON THE FRIDAY SLAIN. O wondrous Death of Christ ! may we Be made to live to Christ by Thee ! O deathless Death, destroy our sin, Give us the prize of life to win ! Cfjrist, upon tfye jFrtoag Slain. (Sexta passus feria.) By Adam of St. Victor. Translated by Richard Frederic Little- dale, D.C.L. See the biographical notice prefixed to the hymn, " Our Paschal Joy at last is here." jlHRIST, upon the Friday slain, [When three days were past again, Rose victorious, And, triumphant o'er the Tomb, Lifts His loved ones out of gloom, Makes them glorious. For the people of His Name, He, upon the cross of shame, Dead was lying : In the grave a while He lay, Then, at dawning of the day, Rose undying. CHRIST, UPON THE FRIDAY SLAIN. S7 In I lis passion and I lis cr< With a bulwark sure from l< We arc gifted : By His resurrection bright, From the grave of sin and night We are lifted. Offered up for sinners, Christ As their sacrifice sufficed Unrepeated : By the precious blood He spilt, Jesus washed our souls from guilt, Hell defeated. Once He lay within the grave, Lest the race He came to save Twice should perish : Now He opens Heaven wide, Comes to every mourner's side, — Comes to cherish. He the Lion, strong in fight, Rising up to-day. His might Forth is telling ; With the arms of righteousness, Satan, Prince of wickedness, Ever quelling. 5 8 CHRIST, UPON THE FRIDAY SLAIN. Now is come the Lord's own day, Whereon He hath washed away Earth's pollution ; Whereon death was slain in strife, And the foe hath made of life Restitution. So, from hearts made pure from stain, Now the Alleluia strain Doubly pealeth : Now all evil hath its close, And the life which Heaven knows God revealeth. In the world's late eventide, Raise Thou up Thy servants tried, Jesu Holy : May this glad and festal day Thy salvation bring for aye To the lowly ! PURGE WE OUT THE ANCIENT LEAVEN. 59 Purge for out tlje ancient Leaoen. (Zv/// nly the first three and the Li>t two, — the remainder of the sequence being taken up with a somewhat subtle application of Old-Testament : |URGE wo out the ancient leaven, That the feast of earth and heaven We may celebrate aright. On to-day our hope stands founded : Moses teacheth how unbounded Is its virtue and its might This day Egypt's treasure spoiled, And the Hebrews freed, that toiled, Pressed with bondage and in chains, From the mortar, brick, and stubble : Heaviest toil and sorest trouble Had they known in Zoan's plains. Xow the voice of exultation, Now the triumph of salvation, Free and wide its tidings flings. This is the day the Lord hath made ; the day That bids our sin and sorrow flee away ; Life and light and health that brines. 60 PURGE WE OUT THE ANCIENT LEAVEN. Death and life have striven newly : Jesus Christ hath risen truly ; And with Christ ascended duly, Many a witness that He lives : Dawn of newness, happy morrow, Wipes away our eve of sorrow : Since from death our life we borrow, Brightest joy the season gives. Jesu, Victor, Life, and Head ; Jesu, Way Thy people tread ; By Thy death from death released, Call us to the Paschal Feast, That with boldness we may come : Living Water, Bread undying, Vine, each branch with life supplying, Thou must cleanse us, Thou must feed us, From the second death must lead us Upward to our heavenly home ! STIIJ. THY SORROW, MAGDALENAl 6l Still tlju Sorrofo, fHagtialcna ! {Pone I net inn, MagdQlena '.) A sweet and jubilant hymn, of uncertain date and authorship. In " Lyra Messianica," and in Dr. S ' the name of the author is not given; and by Mrs. Charles it is ascribed to Adam of St. " Voice of Christian Life in Song," p. 182). 'Die original may be found in Trench's "Sacred Latin Poetry," p. 159. There are severed translations, by Mrs. Charles, \V. J. C, and others; but the following — contributed by Rev. Dr. Edward A. Washburn to " Christ in - — is much the best. Dr. Washburn was born at Boston, April 16, 1819 ; graduated at Harvard University 1838; studied theology at A and New Haven: was rector of St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Newbury- port, 1344-51; rector of St. John's, Hartford, 1853-62, and professor of church polity in Berkeley Divinity School, Middle-town; rector of St. M irk's, Philadelphia, 1862-65; from 1865 to date, rector of Calvary Church, New York. "TILL thy sorrow, Magdalena! Wipe the teardrops from thine eyes : Not at Simon's board thou kneelest, Pouring thy repentant sighs : All with thy glad heart rejoices ; All things sing, with happy voices, Hallelujah ! Laugh with rapture, Magdalena ! Be thy drooping forehead bright: Banished now is every anguish, Breaks anew thy morning light : 62 STILL THY SORROW, MAGDALENA ! Christ from death the world hath freed ; He is risen, is risen indeed : Hallelujah! Joy ! exult, O Magdalena ! He hath burst the rocky prison : Ended are the days of darkness : Conqueror hath He arisen. Mourn no more the Christ departed ; Run to welcome Him, glad-hearted : Hallelujah! Lift thine eyes, O Magdalena ! See ! thy living Master stands ; See His face, as ever, smiling ; See those wounds upon His hands, On His feet, His sacred side, — Gems that deck the Glorified : Hallelujah! Live, now live, O Magdalena ! Shining is thy new-born day ; Let thy bosom pant with pleasure, Death's poor terror flee away ; Far from thee the tears of sadness : Welcome love, and welcome gladness ! Hallelujah! ." THY GENTLE LAMB, (> SI0N1 63 Noto f uncertain date and authorship. This version is by Rev. JotiN CHANDLER (U>rn about 1S05, and, a> late . still living in Surrey, England). Lt is a variation — ooosiderably improved and strengthened — upon a translation of the same hymn by Rev. [saac Williams (born in 1802, died in 1865). There is >till another translation by Edward Caswall, Again the Sunday morn." 0\V Morning lifts her dewy veil. With new-born blessings crowned : Oh, haste we, then, her light to hail In courts of holy ground ! But Christ, triumphant o'er the grave, Shines more divinely bright: Oh, sing we then His power to saw. And walk we in His light ! When from the swaddling bands of shade Sprang forth the world so fair. In robes of brilliancy arrayed, Oh, what a Power was there ! When He, who gave His guiltless Son A guilty world to spare, 34 NOW MORNING LIFTS HER DEWY VEIL, Restored to life the Holy One, Oh, what a Love was there ! When forth from its Creator's hand The earth in beauty stood, All decked with light at His command, He saw, and called it good. But still more lovely in His sight, The earth still fairer stood, When the Holy Lamb had washed it white In His atoning blood. Still, as the morning rays return, To the pious soul 'tis given In fancy's mirror to discern The radiant domes of heaven. But, now that our eternal Sun Hath shed His beams abroad, In Him we see the Holy One, And mount at once to God. Oh, holy, blessed Three in One ! May Thy pure light be given, That we the paths of death may shun, And keep the road to Heaven ! THOU, THE HEAVENS' E TERNAL KINC O Gfjott, tfjc batons' lEtcmal Iting] [Rex sempiterm ccditum.) From the Roman Dreviary. Translated by Edward CASWALL. There arc other versions, of which that by the compilers of " Hymns Ail' iciit and Modern," beginning, " O Christ, the Heavens' Eternal King," is the most familiar. Mi. Caswall's translation, however, excels it, both in strength and beauty THOU, the heavens' eternal King, Lord of the starry spheres ! Who with the Father equal art, From everlasting years : All praise to Thy most holy Name, Who, when the world began, Yoking the soul with clay, didst form, In Thine own image, man. And praise to Thee, who, when the foe Had marred Thy work sublime, Clothing Thyself in flesh, didst mould Our race a second time ; When from the tomb new-born, as from A virgin born before, 86 O THOU, THE HEAVENS' ETERNAL KING I Thou, raising us from death with Thee, Didst us in Thee restore. Eternal Shepherd ! who Thy flock In Thy pure font dost lave, Where souls are cleansed, and all their guilt Buried, as in a grave ; Jesu, who to the cross wast nailed, Our hopeless debt to pay, — Jesu, who lavishly didst pour Thy blood for us away, — Oh, from the wretched death of sin Keep us ! so shalt Thou be The everlasting Paschal joy Of all new-born in Thee. To God the Father, with the Son Who from the grave arose, And Thee, O Paraclete, be praise While age on ages flows ! HELPED BY THE ALMIGHTY'S ARM. 87 Jjdprti liu t!)r aimiflijtg'g arm, at ILast. {Ford tegentt brachial From the Paris Breviary. Translated by John David Cham in "Lauda Syon: Ancient Latin Hymns of the English and other Churches." Mr. Chambers was a graduate of Oxford in 1826, and has made a number of contributions to devotional literature. [lELPED by the Almighty's arm, at last Behold the Red Sea's channel past, Where He, with matchless prowess, broke The infernal tyrant's hateful yoke. Oh ! therefore joyful thanks this day Let us to Christ, our Champion, pay; And round the Lamb's own board unite, Arrayed in shining robes of white. There duly may His sacred flesh And hallowed blood our souls refresh ; Enkindling there the fire of love, That we may live with Him above. Henceforth our Passover is Christ ; Our Lamb, our Victim sacrificed : 8 THE ORIENT BEAMS OF EASTER MORN, As sprinkled with His blood we stand, The angel stays his vengeful hand. O worthiest Victim ! born to reign ; By whom Death's very self is slain ; And, crushed before whose potent sway, The gates of hell disgorge their prey ! Christ, from the grave's departing gloom, To light hath issued from the tomb ; Down to the abyss the foe hath driven, And oped the sanctuaries of heaven. K\}t ©rient Beams of lEaster Horn. {Aurora lucis dum nova.) From the Paris Breviary. Translated by John David Chambers, in " Lauda Syon." [HE orient beams of Easter morn The glowing firmament adorn : Let earth with joyous plaudits ring, The Lamb's victorious triumphs sing. He with His Blood — pellucid tide ! — This world from sin hath purified ; '/'///■: ORIENT BEAMS 0/ /-.ASTER MORN. 89 The Veil He rends, the Holiest lies lied unto our ravished eyes ! To earth consigned, the noble Grain Inert no longer may remain ; Scarce dead, behold It blooming fair, A rich and wondrous harvest bear ! No more shall death the flesh destroy, Sown in sure hope of future joy ; Our God to life the way hath led, Who rose, the first-fruits of the dead. So on the Cross with Jesus slain, With Him revived to life again, Shall this frail body rise, to rest In His all-irlorious image dressed. 90 THOU, WHO TO SAVE. Cfjott, Wfya to Sabr. {yes// , Redemptor steculi.) A hymn of the Paris Breviary, translated by Rev. Isaac Williams. Mr. Williams was born in 1802; graduated at Oxford 1826; was ordained in 1831 ; held livings at Windrush, Oxford, and Bisley; suffered for many years from broken health; and died May 1, 1S65. He was the author of a large number of hymns, original and translated, and of several devotional and homiletical works in prose. HOU, Who to save The world didst die, and then Thy breath Resume, to vanquish gloomy death, And kill the grave ; O'er all below Night reigns ; our eyes are weighed with sleep : Oh, from the wiles and watchings keep Of the great foe May rest, which lays Care's lid, and labor's brow doth slake, Quicken our hearts, more fresh to wake Unto Thy praise ! CHRIST WITH MIGHTY TRIUMPH RISES I 91 ( )h, be it given With Thee to die, on earth to love The better things which are above, And dwell in I leaven ! Cijrtst fottij ffltcjljtyj Kriutnpf) rises! [Surgit Christus cum Tropluco.) An Easter Sequence from the Missal of Toumay: sixteenth century. Translated byJoHN William Hbwett. From " Lyra Mystica.' biographical note prefixed to the hymn, " Hail, the Holy Day of Days! " IIHRIST with mighty Triumph rises ! All the gates of Death surprises ! From a Lamb a Lion strong. Hell through all its depths is quaking ; Earth through all its graves is shaking : Raise on high the Victor's song ! Hail the Lamb ! adore him greatly, Who upon the Cross but lately For His helpless Sheep was slain : By His Death He brought Salvation, To the lost of every nation Showed the Way of Life again. 92 CHRIST WITH MIGHTY TRIUMPH RISES \ He alone His Passion bearing, None His mighty Grief -was sharing Save repentant Magdalene. Tell us, Mary, 'mid thy weeping, By the Cross thy station keeping, All the woes that thou hast seen. — I beheld the Lord's Anointed Bear the Stripes to sin appointed, Lifted on His Cross to die ; Saw the Lord His Thorn-crown wearing, Grossest insult meekly bearing, Pale His cheek, and sunk His eye. Through His Hands the nails were driven, By the spear His Side was riven : Then He bowed His sacred Head, And His Soul to God commended, All His bitter Passion ended : Lo ! the Lord of Life was dead. — Tell us, Mary, all thy doing, Still thy task of love pursuing, When the Saviour's Soul was fled. — By the martyred Mother keeping, While I soothed, I shared her weeping, Till unto her home I led : _ CHRIST WITH MIGHTY TRIUMPH RISES I 93 Then, upon the hard earth falling, Mourned I o'er that Scene appalling, Mourned my Saviour's bitter Doom ; Then the fragrant spices blending, Love's last preeious care attending, I lied me to the sacred Tomb : Search for my Beloved making, Him for Whom my heart was breaking, All my searching proved in vain : Then my Soul was newly troubled, All my grief and care was doubled, And my tears burst forth again. — Weep not, Mary, now unduly ; Christ the Lord hath risen truly, Broke the seal, and 'scaped the ward. - Words of comfort ye have spoken ; And indeed no single token Saw I of the risen Lord : Shining Angels told the story, — Here is not the Lord of Glory ; He is risen, as He said : See unwound each linen cerement, And yon token of endearment Which enwrapped His sacred Head. 94 AXGELS, TO OUR JUBILEE. Yea, indeed, the Lord is risen ! Bursting from his narrow Prison ; Hope in Him, ye Sons of men ! Risen Saviour, leave us never, Show us Love and Pity ever ; Alleluia ! Lord ! Amen. Angels, to ©ur Subiltt. {Adeste, Call 'ttt m chori.) A hymn of Nicholas Le Tourneaux, a priest of Rouen, in 1686; translated by William John Blew. Mr. Blew was born about 1810, and graduated at Oxford in 1832. He has held a living at St. John's, near Gravesend, Kent. He is the author of a translation of the Agamemnon of iEschylus, of a number of hymns and translations from the Latin, and of a compact but veiy valuable treatise on " Hymns and Hymn-Books." jjNGELS, to our Jubilee Haste, your sweetest songs awak- ing : Christ amid the dead is free, Christ the rocky tomb is breaking. Vain the guard around the grave ; Vain the rulers' wild endeavor ; Vain the seal upon the cave Of the nation faithless ever. , TO OUR JUBILEE, 95 Fear, away ! no subtle spy Steals that form so sorely stricken : He who willed the death to die Will with life Himself requicken. Offspring of a Virgin's womb, Virgin-born He came, in token That through Jewry's guarded tomb He should rise with seals unbroken. Hanging on the inglorious tree, Mad with mocking lips they grieve Him, — M Let him quit the Cross, and we Will the Son of God believe Him." From the Cross He came not down, Yet He worked a mightier wonder: Son of God the Saviour own ; Dead, He smites grim death asunder. Grant us, Lord, with Thee to die, .And to rise at Thine uprising; And to set our heart on high, Larth and all its joys despising. 96 JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN TO-DAY. 3rsus Cfjrfet is fttscn Co^ag. {Si:?' rex it Christ us hodie.) An anonymous hymn, written about 1750. Contained in " Hymns Ancient and Modern." Probably reproduced from a Latin hymn of the fifteenth century-. 1ESUS Christ is risen to-day, Alleluia ! Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia ! Who did once, upon the cross, Alle- luia ! Suffer to redeem our loss, Alleluia! Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia ! Unto Christ, our heavenly King, Alleluia ! Who endured the Cross and Grave, Alleluia! Sinners to redeem and save, Alleluia! But the pain which He endured, Alleluia ! Our Salvation hath procured, Alleluia ! Now above the sky He's King, Alleluia ! Where the angels ever sing, Alleluia! Amen. Jrom tl)c Russian. THE GOLDEN PALACE 01 MY GOD 83je iGoltini Palace of my (Eoto. By Semen S I whose birth i^ nn- known. He was an assessor of < ■ at the University of M - >w, and began his career as .1 poet in 17-4. In 18^3 he i>ul>- lished Day ihc Tauric Peninsula;** . of the North," lyrical poems in four parts; in 1S07, • 1 \ : V rht of the Universe, or the Blind Wanderer," a poem in lied in 1S10. He had a hen- imagination, and a fund of feeling, but was not always felicitous in expression, and his sublimity rges upon bombast He was more familiar with English literature than any other Russian writer. The following hymn is sung in the Russian churches at midnight a week before Easter. The transla- tion is by Sir John Bowring. [HE golden Palace of my God Towering above the clouds I see, Beyond the Cherubs' bright abode, Higher than angels' thoughts can be. How can I in those Courts appear Without a wedding-garment on ? Conduct me, thou Life-Giver, there, — Conduct me to Thy glorious throne ! And clothe me with Thv robes of light, And lead me through Sin's darksome night, My Saviour and my God ! IOO WHY. THOC iVEJ'ER-SETTIXG LIGHT. 8Hfj2, ftfjou Xfbcr=Srtttng light. Also by Boeroff, translated by Bowring. See note to the preceding. This also is a midnight hymn, and is sung in the Russian churches at Easter. |HY, thou Never-Setting Light, Is thy brightness veiled from me ? Why does this unusual night Cloud thy blest benignity ? I am lost without thy ray : Guide my wandering footsteps, Lord ! Light my dark and erring way To the noontide of thy word ! JTrom tl)c Danisl). ARISE, MY son.: AWAKE FROM SLEEP I 103 arise, mg Soul I afoafce from £lcrp I By Thomas Kin - bora in Slangcrap in i( pointed curate of Kirke-Helsinge in (662, and priest at Slangi rupin 1668, tt.i> made Bishop of Funen in 1677; and died in 17 3. He was the author of over two hundred quaint psalms and hymns, and was much bekn his countrymen. He has been called the Or Watts of Denmark. The translator of this hynm and the two following is Mr.Gu . They are to be found in bis collection ni " The Hymns of Denmark." ■RISE, my soul! awake from sleep! Behold thy Saviour's grave ! His loved ones, mourning, laid Him deep In Death's devouring cave ; But from the tomb He valiant came, .And ever blessed be His name ! A cheering sound, an angel's voice, Proclaimeth from on high, Our brother, Jesus, — oh, rejoice! — Could not Death's captive lie ; But from the tomb He valiant came, And ever blessed be His name ! sacred day, sublimest day ! O mystery unheard ! Death's hosts, that claimed Him as their prey, He scattered with a word ; *04 ARISE, MY SOUL! AWAKE FROM SLEEP! And from the tomb He valiant came, And ever blessed be His name ! holy, holy Paschal morn ! We triumphed have through thee : Thou sweetenest Christ's torture, borne Upon the fatal tree ; For from the tomb He valiant came, And ever blessed be His name ! 1 boldly now defy thee, Death ! For thou hast lost thy sting ; Defy, O Hell ! thy blasting breath, All terrors thou canst bring; For from the tomb He valiant came, And ever blessed be His name ! The grave is dark, the grave is cold, And I must slumber there ; But, risen, I shall Christ behold, Christ's glories I shall share ; For from the tomb He valiant came, And ever blessed be His name ! That I a welcome warm may win From Jesus in the skies, From the foul sepulchre of sin May I as valiant rise As from the tomb the Saviour came : And ever blessed be His name ! CHRIST, ON THE SABBATH MOA'X. 105 JFrom Death, tTln'tst, on the 5abbatf) fHorn. By Nicola] Frsderik ic, born at I Zealand, Sept 8, 1783. He stud* at iarhuus, and became deeply interested in Icelandic literature. For several y< taught in Langeland, and wrote essays on the Edda, &< . Iii 1808 lie published a polemic poem lashing the frivolity of the people of Copenhagen, work on Northern mythology. About this time his mind, always devout, became deeply and passionately religious, and he devoted himself unreservedly to the work of moral and religious ret.,rm. His " Probation Sermon " threw the 'clergy of Copenhagen into an uproar, and called down upon him their formal censure. In 1813, after a period of resl by illness and nervous excitement, he returned to Copenhagen, and pr- conversion and faith to his countrymen; and in 1814, when the Allied Army overran Holstein, he renewed his patriotic and religious appeals. His earnestness provoked frequent attacks from the rationalistic clergy, who prevented his preferment. In 1822-26 he was resident chaplain of Our Saviour's Church at Christianshavn; and in 1839 was appointed clergyman of the Church of the Holy Ghost, Copenhagen. He was an indefatigable literary worker, and undertook laborious translations from Icelandic and Anglo-Saxon literature His collection of psalms and hymns was published in 1841. Howitt likens him to John the Baptist crying in the wilderness, and characterizes him as "one of the giants of the North, burning with religious zeal." Miss Bremer placed him fore- most among Danish bards and seers, and said of his hymns, that they gave new life to the church music of Denmark. The following i» fr »m Mr. Tait's " Hymns of Denmark." y^j l ' ROM death, Christ, on the Sabbath ■ ==& A conqueror arose ; And, when each Sabbath dawn is born, For death a healing grows. This day proclaims an ended strife, And Christ's ben i em and holy life. 106 O CHRISTIANS, LET US JOYFUL BE! By countless lips the wondrous tale Is told throughout the earth : Ye that have ears to hear, oh, hail That tale with sacred mirth ! Awake, my soul ! rise from the dead ! See life's grand light around thee shed ! Death trembles each sweet Sabbath hour : Death's brother, Darkness, quakes : Christ's word speaks with divinest power ; Christ's truth its silence breaks : They vanquish with their valiant breath The reis;n of Darkness and of Death. © Christians, let its Sogful &c! By Ramus, who is represented by several hymns in Mr. Tait's " Hymns of Denmark." The editor has made careful search in English and French histories of Danish Literature, and in various bio- graphical dictionaries, but finds no mention of this author, whose place is doubtless among the minor sacred poets of Denmark. CHRISTIANS, let us joyful be ! How sweet, how holy is this day ! Behold Him free, and boldly free, — Our Saviour, Christ, death's grandest prey ! He burst the fetters of the tomb, And rose in triumph from the gloom. CHRISTIANS, LET US JOYFUL BE I 107 For sin a bitter lot I le ch< The Cross's pangs He willing bore; First-fruits of them that slept, He rose; And we shall rise, to sleep no more. Oh, comfort for each contrite soul, To see away death's terrors roll ! To Thee, O loving God ! we pray : May in our heart Thy Spirit dwell : Oh, lead us in salvation's way ; Teach us to feel that all is well ; And, when our earthly course is run, Give us the kingdom Jesus won ! JTrom tl)c (German. Till- RE WENT THREE DAM:.' I I I Ocrc toent tTfjrrc Damsels err Break of Dau. This quaint ballad was a favorite with devout Germans of the four- teenth century. The name of the author is not known. The translation is [HBRINE WlNKWORTH, who was born about 1825; and died July, 1878. English readers are indebted to her for many admirable transla- tions of German hymns contained in her I Lyra Germanica," and her history of " The Christian Singers of Germany." HERE went three damsels ere break of day : To the Holy Grave they took their way ; They fain would anoint the Lord once more. As Mary Magdalene did before. Alleluia! The damsels each to other made moan, — "Who will roll us away the stone, That we may enter in amain To anoint the Lord as we are fain ? " Full precious spices and salve they brought ; But, when they came to the spot they sought, Behold, the grave doth open stand ! An ans;el sitteth on either hand ! 1 1 2 THERE WENT THREE DAMSELS. " Ye maidens, be not filled with fear : He whom ye seek, He is not here: Behold, the raiment white and fair, Which the Lord was wrapped in, lieth there. " Ye maidens, do not here delay : Ye must to Galilee away ; To Galilee ye now must go, For there the Lord Himself will show." But Mary Magdalene could not depart : Seeking the Lord, she wept apart. What saw she in a little while ? She saw our Lord upon her smile. In garb and wise He met her there As were He a gardener, and did bear A spade within His holy hand, As would He dig the garden land. " Oh ! tell me, gentle Gardener thou, Where hast thou laid my Master now ? Where thou hast hidden Him, bid me know, Or my heart must break beneath its woe." Scarce could He speak a single word, Ere she beheld it was the Lord : She kneeleth clown on the cold bare stone ; She hath found her Lord, and she alone. REJOICE, DEAR CHRISTENDOM, TO-DAY. \ I J "Touch me not, Mary Magdalene, But tell the brethren what thou hast seen : Touch me not now with human hand, Until I ascend to my Father's land." Alleluia! Rejoice, Dear GTljristcnliom, Cotum This hymn belongs in the same period as the preceding, but is an expansion of an earlier Easter sequence. Miss Winkworth i> the translator. jjEJOICE, dear Christendom, to-day; For Christ hath overcome : His bitter pains have passed away, And empty stands His tomb; Those bitter pains had been our lot, If Christ for us had borne them not. Great bliss hath risen on us to-day : Alleluia ! O Easter Day, our voices ne'er Can praise thee fittingly; Since God, whose power all things declare, Such glory puts on thee : But let us keep thee as we can. Angels to-day rejoice with man, When rose that Sun so wondrous fair : Alleluia! 114 SO HOL Y IS THIS DA Y OF DA YS. O Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord, We share Thy joy to-day! All those who hear and keep Thy Word Are glad with Thee to-day ! All Christian people now rejoice With freshened hearts and gladsome voice. Glory to Thee, our Blessed Lord : Alleluia ! Praise to the Father and the Son, And to the Holy Ghost : For all the sins that we have clone, To-day forgive us most ; And give us peace and unity, From now to all eternity, So sing we as the ages run : Alleluia ! So fgols is tijis Darj of Dags. This sequence is found about the same date as the preceding: and, in the old manuscripts which contain it, it is called " The Common' Man's Processional." The translation is by Miss WlNK WORTH. O holy is this day of days, Xo man can fill its meed of praise. Since the Holy Son of God FAIR SPRING, THOU DEARES1 ■ I I ; Now hath conquered Death and Hell, And bound the Devil who there doth dwell, Si) hath the Lord delivered Christendom ; This was Christ himseli : Kyrie Eleison ! jTair Spring, tljou Nearest Season of tlir gear* cad von Qieinfukt, who died in Silesia in 13S2. Miss WlNK- WORTH, who translates it, observes that it is quite in the style of the Minne- singers, both in thought and the carefully varied metre. [AIR Spring, thou dearest season of the year, Thou art brimful of sweet delights : The creatures robbed of joy by winter drear Thou dost repay for cold and gloomy nights. I feel thy airs are soft and mild ; Thy winds are balmy, and not wild : Oh, how unlike the wintry blast ! What Frost had bound in fetters fast Now feels the prison-time gone by ; For 'tis unbound and free : Whether it climb or swim or fly, Whatever kind it be, Whether of water, earth, or sky, 'Tis happy now we see. Il6 FAIR SPRING, THOU DEAREST SEASON. The sun smiles with his lovely rays ; And sing, dear little birds, sing out your Maker's praise ! So many joys hath Spring; but most of all She hath one day above the rest, That Christendom with one glad voice doth call Of all bright days the first and best. We hail thee, then, O chosen Day, With many a loud and gladsome lay. Thou art the day that God hath made : Well may our joy be now displayed ! Thou art the Pascha to the Greek ; And still we hear the Jew Of thee as Passover doth speak ; And Latins know thee too As Transittis, that crowns the Holv Week : But thou, where'er is heard the German tongue, Art holy Easter-tide, when life from Death hath sprung. We hail thee, blessed Day, we greet thee well, We praise thee ever, we adore The Christ who triumphed over death and hell, Whose death slew Death forevermore. FAIR SPRING, THOU DEAREST SEASON. I \J sweetest day, that saw'st Thee ris Our Paschal Lamb, our Sacrifi< ' Our Brother, who hast won for us A heritage most glorious ! Forest and foliage, corn and grass and flowers, Would show their love to Thee ! The birds sing in the greening bowers : Christ, they are praising Thee ! Thou wouldst not laek, had they our powers, A song more worthy Thee ! For Thou art Conqueror, O Christ, to-day, Who madest Death's great power itself give way ! So, Christians, triumph as your heart desires ; In chorus sweet and clear and strong, Ye laymen in the church, ye priests in choirs, Answer each other in your song. Sing, " Christ the Lord is risen again ; Christ hath broken every chain." The year of jubilee He bringeth in, True freedom for all faithful hearts to win : So to the table go thou solemnly, Where in His flesh and blood The Paschal Lamb itself is offered thee, — The Lamb slain on the rood. Il8 CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEX AG A IX! Praise the true Christ with happy hearts and free ; Praise Him, for He is good ! Thus, Spring, thou well may'st speak of joy to man : Thou hast the Easter Day that ended Death's dark ban. Cljrtst tljc ILorti is Ktscn 3c$am ! An Easter hymn of the Bohemian Brethren in the fifteenth century. Translated into German by Michael Weiss (died in 1540); and into English by Catherine Wixkwokth, in the second series of " Lyra Ger- manica." The Bohemian Brethren, according to Miss Winkworth (see "The Christian Singers of Germany"), were the remains of an ancient Slavonic Christianity, originating in the teaching of two Greek monks in the ninth century, and existing in Bohemia before the Papal authority and Roman liturgy found their way thither. They were among the first to hail the Reformation, and as early as 1522 offered Luther their co-opera- tion. Their overtures, at first declined, were afterward accepted. They generally joined the Zwinghans, merging in that body, and thus disap- pearing from history, unless the United Brethren, or Moravians, may be regarded as an offshoot from them. Michael Weiss was born at Neisse, in Silesia. He was pastor o\ German-speaking congregations o\ Lands- kron and Fulnek, and for their benefit translated into German some of the finest Bohemian hymns, adding some of his own. His hymn-book was greatly admired by Luther, and passed through numerous editions in Germany and Holland. HRIST the Lord is risen again ! Christ hath broken every chain ! Hark ! the angels shout for joy, Singing evermore on high, — Hallelujah CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN AGAINl I h* I [e who gave for us I [is life, Who for us endured the strife, [s our Paschal Lamb today ! We, too, sing for joy, and say, — Hallelujah 1 He who bore all pain and loss Comfortless upon the cr Lives in glory now on high, Pleads for us, and hears our cry, — Hallelujah ! He whose path no records tell, Who descended into hell, Who the strong man armed hath bound, Now in the highest heaven is crowned : Hallelujah ! He who slumbered in the grave Is exalted now to save : Xow through Christendom it rings That the Lamb is King of kings : Hallelujah ! Xow He bids us tell abroad How the lost may be restored ; How the penitent forgiven ; How we, too, may enter heaven : Hallelujah ! 120 IN THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY. Thou, our Paschal Lamb indeed, Christ, to-day Thy people feed ; Take our sins and guilt away : Let us sing by night and day, — Hallelujah! En tije Bonus of ©eatfj &i lag* By Dr. Martin Luther, the great Reformer. He was born at Eisleben, Nov. 10, 1483; received his early education at Magdeburg, and Eisenach, where his progress was impeded by the poverty of his parents; entered the University of Erfurth in 1501, and graduated as Doctor of Philosophy with high honor. At the age of twenty-two he entered the Monastery of St. Augustine at Erfurth. In 1508 he became Professor of Philosophy in Wittenberg; and was soon afterward made Bachelor of Divinity, and appointed Chaplain to the Council of Wittenberg. During these years he had been passing through strong spiritual conflicts; and his close study of the Scriptures as a whole had given him new views of life and duty, and inspired his preaching with earnestness and power. His visit to Rome, with its revelation of the abuses of the Papacy; his encounter with Tetzel's doctrine of indulgences; his burning of the Papal bull in 1520; his summons to the Diet at Worms; his final rejection of monasticism in 1524, and marriage in 1525; and the wonderful work which he accomplished in establishing and extending the Protestant movement, by tongue and pen, by hymn and treatise, and translation of the Scriptures, — are matters too familiar to require recapitulation. His later years were years of comparative quiet, but of unceasing activity; and his death, on Feb. 18, 1546, was serene and jubilant. The following is based upon a Latin hymn of the fifteenth century: the translation into English is by Miss Catherine Winkworth. N the bonds of Death He lay Who for our offence was slain But the Lord is risen to-day ; Christ hath brought us life asrain. IN THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY. [21 Wherefore let us all rejoice, Singing loud with cheerful voice, — Hallelujah! Of the sons of men was none Who could break the bonds of Death : Sin this mischief dire had done; Innocent was none on earth : Wherefore Death grew strong and bold, Would all men in his prison hold: Hallelujah! Jesus Christ, God's only Son, Came at last our toe to smite ; All our sins away hath done, Done away Death's power and right. Only the form of Death is left; Of his sting he is bereft : Hallelujah ! That was a wondrous war, I trow, When Life and Death together fought : But Life hath triumphed o'er his foe ; Death is mocked, and set at nought ; 'Tis even as the Scripture saith, — Christ through death has conquered Death : Hallelujah ! 122 TV THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY. The rightful Paschal Lamb is He, On whom alone we all must live, Who to death upon the tree Himself in wondrous love did give. Faith strikes His blood upon the door ; Death sees, and dares not harm us more Hallelujah ! Let us keep high festival On this most blessed day of days, When God His mercy showed to all ! Our Sun is risen with brightest rays, And our dark hearts rejoice to see Sin and night before Him flee : Hallelujah! To the Supper of the Lord Gladly will we come to-day : The word of peace is now restored, The old leaven is put away. Christ will be our food alone ; Faith no life but His doth own : Hallelujah ! ERE DAWN HAS FILLED THE SKIES. I 23 Err get tljr Dabm Ijns ftllrti tljr Shirs. By JOHANM HeBRMAN, translated by Miss WlNKWORTH. Heerman T-n at Rantcn, in Silesia, in 15S5; and became early distinguished - bolar, and a writer of Latin verses He received the In Kohen, and retained it during tne terrible suffering and devastation which the Thirty Years' War entailed upon Silesia. He was often in dai his life trom the Jesuit*, and was several times compelled to flee; but in the midst of these troubled and tempestuous times he wrote and published three volumes of hymns, distinguished for earnestness, tenderness, and fervor. A large number of them have found a permanent place in Ger- man hymnology, and several have been translated into English. Worn out with conflict and sorrow, Heerman died in 1047. RE yet the dawn has filled the skies, Behold my Saviour Christ arise ! He chaseth from us sin and night, And brings us joy and life and light : Hallelujah! Hallelujah! O stronger Thou than Death and Hell ! Where is the foe thou canst not quell ? What heavy stone Thou canst not roll From off the prisoned, anguished soul ? Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! If Jesus lives, can I be sad ? I know he loves me, and am glad ! I 24 ERE DA WN HAS FILLED THE SKIES. Though all the world were dead to me, Enough, Christ, if I have Thee ! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! He feeds me, comforts and defends, And, when I die, His angel sends To bear me whither He is gone ; For of His own He loseth none : Hallelujah! Hallelujah! • Xo more to fear or grief I bow : God and the angels love me now : The joys prepared for me to-day Drive fear and mourning far away : Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Strong Champion ! For this comfort see The whole world brings her thanks to Thee ; And once we, too, shall raise above More sweet and loud the song of love : Hallelujah! Hallelujah! O DARKEST WOE ! I 2< O Darkest Mod By 1607; died in 1667. ther was a clergyman, and he w.!s destined from the first for the study of theology. Hew; is and varied talent; and when he rerun y in the uni- versities, and travel abroad, he had already acquired a reputaboi t. He was ted to a church jusl [amburg, and there spent the remainder of his life. He was an ac- tive pastor and a great preacher, a very strict Lutheran in doctn more given to preaching against sin than against heresy. He pul no less than ten collections of religious poems and hymns, containing be- tween six hundred and seven hundred pieces. Many are of indifferent merit, but some belong to the first rank of hymns. He was crowned poet-laureate by the Emperor, and received a patent of nobility. Some of his contemporaries praised him as the Northern Apollo; and his hymns were eagerly caught up, and quickly adopted for congregational use in evangelical Germany. Even among Roman Catholics they were read with delight. The hymn which follows was written for Easter Eve. The translation is by Miss Winkworth. DARKEST woe! Ye tears, forth flow ! Has earth so sad a wonder ? God the Father's only Son Now lies buried yonder. O son of man ! It was the ban Of death on thee that brought Him Down to suffer for thy sins, And such woe hath wrought Him. 126 DARKEST WOE I Behold, thy Lord, The Lamb of God, Blood-sprinkled lies before thee, Pouring out His life, that He May to life restore thee ! O ground of faith, Laid low in death ! Sweet lips now silent sleeping ! Surely all that live must mourn Here with bitter weeping. Yea, blest is he Whose heart shall be Fixed here ; who apprehendeth Why the Lord of Glory thus To the grave descendeth. O Jesu blest, My help and rest ! With tears I pray, Lord, hear me : Make me love Thee to the last, And in death be near me. JESUS MY REDEEMER LIVES I -V Scstts mu Ixctirrmcr libcs. By Louisa Hrmwhtta, wife of the Elector of Brandenburg, bora in 1628; died in 1077. She lived in a stormy and tragic time; but her char- acter is one of the noblest examples of Christian womanhood that history pre>ent>. She was her husband's adviser in affairs ol state, fostered agri- culture by «Hse measures, founded primary schools all over the country, and won the love of her people by many acts of public and private charity. Many sweet and thoughtful hymns attest the depth and earnestness of her .s nature. That which follows ranks to this day among the most popular of German hymns. The translation is by Miss Wink worth. There is another translation, by Mrs. Charles, beginning, " Je^us, my eternal trust and my Saviour, ever liveth." ESUS my Redeemer lives, Christ my trust is dead no more : In the strength this knowledge gives, Shall not all my fears be o'er, — Calm, though death's long night be fraught Still with many an anxious thought ? Jesus my Redeemer lives, And His life I once shall see : Bright the hope this promise gives, — Where He is, I too shall be. Shall I fear, then ? Can the Head Rise, and leave the members dead ? 128 JESUS MY REDEEMER LIVES. Close to Him my soul is bound, In the bonds of Hope inclasped ; Faith's strong hand this hold hath found, And the Rock hath firmly grasped. Death shall ne'er my soul remove From her refuge in Thy love. I shall see Him with these eyes, — Him whom I shall surely know; Not another shall I rise : With His love this heart shall glow ; Only there shall disappear Weakness in and round me here. Ye who suffer, sigh, and moan, Fresh and glorious there shall reign : Earthly here the seed is sown, Heavenly it shall rise again ; Natural here the death we die, Spiritual our life on high. Body, be thou of good cheer, In thy Saviour's care rejoice ; Give not place to gloom and fear : Dead, thou yet shalt know His voice, When the final trump is heard, And the deaf, cold grave is stirred. SO REST, MY Rl 1 2Q Laugh to scorn, then, death and hell ; I. iiigh to scorn the gloomy gravi : Caught into the air to dwell With the Lord who conies to save, We shall trample on our foes, Mortal weakness, fear, and woes. Only see ye that your heart Rise betimes from earthly lust : Would ye there with Him have part, Here obey your Lord, and trust ; Fix your hearts beyond the skies, Whither ye yourselves would rise. So Rest, mo llrst. By Solomon Frank. Born at Weimar March 6, 1659: died June 11, 1725. He was the author of three hundred hymns, of which the lol- g — one of seven Passion Hymns — is among the best. There is r translation, by Miss Wink worth, in '* Lyra Germanica." *0 rest, my Rest, Forever blest, Thy grave with sinners making ; By Thy precious death from sin My dead soul awaking ! 130 SO REST, MY REST. Here hast Thou lain, After much pain, Life of my life, reposing : Round Thee now a rock-hewn grave, Rock of ages, closing. Breath of all breath, I know, from death, Thou wilt my dust awaken : Wherefore should I dread the grave, Or my faith be shaken ? To me the tomb Is but a room Where I lie clown on roses : Who by death hath conquered death, Sweetly there reposes. The body dies (Nought else), and lies In dust, until victorious From the grave it shall arise, Beautiful and glorious. Meantime I will, My Jesus, still Deep in my bosom lay Thee, Musing on Thy death : in death Be with me, I pray Thee. O RISEN LORD I CONQUERING KING I 13 r O -Risen lorti ! O (Conquering lAing ! By Dr. Justus II B bhmbr, a odebrated jurist, who was horn ;it . i died at Halle in 174^. The translation i> by Miss Catherine Winkwokth, and is contained in the m of the " Lyra ( jerin.iniea." RISEN Lord! O conquering King! O Life of all that live! To-day that peace of Easter bring Which only Thou canst give. Once Death, our foe, Had laid Thee low : Now hast Thou rent his bonds in twain; Now art Thou risen Who once was slain. The power of Thy great majesty Bursts rocks and tombs away ; The victory raises us with Thee Into the glorious day : Xow Satan's might And death's dark night Have lost their power this blessed morn, And we to higher life are born. Oh that our hearts might inly know Thy victory over death, 132 O RISEN LORD! O CONQUERING KING I And, gazing on Thy conflict, glow With eager, dauntless faith ! Thy quenchless light, Thy glorious might, Still comfortless and lonely leave The soul that cannot yet believe. Then break through our hard hearts Thy way, O Jesus, conquering King ! Kindle the lamp of faith to-day ; Teach our faint hearts to sing For joy at length, That in Thy strength We too may rise, whom sin had slain, And Thine eternal rest attain. And, when our tears for sin o'erflow, Do Thou in love draw near, The precious gift of peace bestow, Shine on us bright and clear ; That so may we, O Christ, from Thee Drink in the life that cannot die, And keep true Easter feasts on high. Yes, let us truly know within Thy rising from the dead ; GLORIOUS HEAD, THOU UVBST NOW! I And quit the grave of death and sin ; And keep that gift, our Head, That Thou didst leave For all who cleave To Thee through all this earthly strife : So shall we enter into lite. © Glorious Jjcab, Cfjoit Itbrst nofo By Gerhard Tersteegen, born at Mors in Westphalia in 1697; died in 1769. He was the son of a tradesman, and, when a young man, supported himself for some years by weaving silk; leading meanwhile a life of meditation, and of almost entire seclusion from the world. 1 ing a nature of singular spirituality and great benevolence, he was early led to undertake a kind oi informal ministry, — laboring among the poor, addressing religious meetings, and publishing many hymns and devotional books. His health was always delicate, and he suffered many privations; but his life was long and useful, and he was greatly beloved He mystic of the purest type, and never connected himself with any religious sect. The following translation is by Catherine Winkworth. GLORIOUS Head, Thou livest now ! Let us Thy members share Thy life. Canst Thou behold their need, nor bow To raise Thy children from the strife With self and sin, with death and dark distress, That they may live to Thee in holiness 134 O GLORIOUS HEAD, THOU LIVEST NOW! Earth knows Thee not ; but evermore Thou livest in Paradise, in peace : Thither my soul would also soar ; Let me from all the creatures cease : Dead to the world, but to Thy Spirit known, I live to Thee, O Prince of life, alone ! Break through my bonds, whatever it cost ; What is not Thine within me slay ; Give me the lot I covet most, — To rise as Thou hast risen to-day. Nought can I do ; a slave to death I pine : Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine ! Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide My thoughts and wishes, that my heart Waver no more, nor turn aside, But fix forever where Thou art : Thou art not far from us : who love Thee well, While yet on earth, in heaven with Thee may dwell. JESUS LIVES: NO LONGER NOW. 135 3egus ILtbrs: no longer noto. By Christian* Furchtegott Grllert, born in 171 5, in Saxony; died in 1769. His father was a poet and a minister; and the son inherited from him a devout, religious nature, and rare poetical gifts. He I and lectured upon Poetry and Eloquence, and is regarded as the head of a new didactic school of German hymn-writers. The translation is by [ZABBTH Cox, who, next to Miss Winkworth, is the most successful translator of German hymns. ESUS lives : no longer now Can thy terrors, Death, appall me. Jesus lives : by this I know, From the grave He will recall me. Brighter scenes at death commence : This shall be my confidence. Jesus lives ! to Him the throne High o'er heaven and earth is given : I may go where He is gone, Live and reign with Him in Heaven. God through Christ forgives offence : This shall be my confidence. Jesus lives ! Who now despairs Spurns the Word which God hath spoken : I36 JESUS LIVES: NO LONGER NOW. Grace to all that Word declares, Grace whereby sin's yoke is broken. Christ rejects not penitence : This shall be my confidence. Jesus lives ! for me He died : Hence will I, to Jesus living, Pure in heart and act abide, Praise to Him, and glory, giving. Freely God doth aid dispense : This shall be my confidence. Jesus lives ! my heart knows well, Nought from me His Love shall sever; Life, nor death, nor powers of hell, Part me now from Christ forever. God will be a sure Defence : This shall be my confidence. Jesus lives ! henceforth is death Entrance-gate of life immortal : This shall calm my trembling breath When I pass its gloomy portal. Faith shall cry, as fails each sense, — Lord, Thou art my Confidence. RISE AGAIN! YES t RIS& IUst again! ucs, rise again totlt tlioiu By Fribdrich Gottlieb Klopstock, born at Quedlinburg in died in 1803 His is one iA the greatest names in German literature. When a hoy. he solemnly resolved that he would produce some great work that should <-\o his country honor; and as early as the age of twenty-one he conceived the idea o\ lu> great epic, the " Messiah." In 174S, through solicitation o\ some friends, who by accident discovered the manuscript, the first three cantos of the " Messiah " were published; and these, with Some odes printed at the same time, made him instantly famous through- out Germany. Seven cantos more were published before 1754; but domes- tic affliction interfered with the work, and for nine or ten years he pub- lished only minor religious poems. In 177; the "Messiah" was at last completed, and in the same year a complete edition o\ his odes and lyrics was brought out. klopstock was an ardent patriot, and a profound scholar; and the reverence paid to him in Germany was not unlike that enjoyed by Or. Johnson in England. His character was singularly pure and amiable, and his bearing was marked by courtliness and dig His •• Messiah " is a daring and sublime production, embracing an infinite variety o{ spectators and actors, and having its scene laid sometimes in the highest heaven. He wrote several scriptural dramas, and man] hymns, and lyrics. The following hymn is very commonly used at funer- als or at Easter services. The translation is by Mk< WlNKWORTH. There is a more literal version by Alfred Baskerville, " Arise. y< arise again, thou my dust! " IJISE again! yes, rise again wilt thou, ^ My dust, though buried now ! To life Immortal Is this brief rest the portal : Hallelujah ! 138 RISE AGAIN! YES, RISE AGAIN. For the seed is sown, again to bloom, Whene'er the Lord shall come, His harvest reaping In us who now are sleeping : Hallelujah.' Day of praise, of joyful tears the Day, — Thou of my God the Day, — When I shall number My destined years of slumber, Thou wakenest me ! Then shall we be like to those that dream, When on us breaks the beam Of that blest morrow : The weary pilgrim's sorrow Is then no more. Then the Saviour leads us, of His grace, Into the Holiest Place, Where we forever Shall praise His name who doth deliver ! Hallelujah ! 11 A 1. 1. EL l "JA ii ' JESl :s l, 1 1 ES '. '39 5?aUrlttjal) ! 3csus librs ! By Christian Garvb, who was born at Breslau, Jan. 7, 1742; studied at Frankfort and Halle; in 1769 .succeeded Ocllert as Professor of I ophy at Letpsic; ami died Dec 1, 1798. He was a man of amiable man- ner^, and of good repute as a philosophical writer. From his very death- bed he dictated an e> 3 ay on Patience. The translation which follows is by the compilers of " Hymns from the Land of Luther." These admira- ble volumes are the joint work of two Asters, Mi-- Jane B ^kthwick and Mrx Fkic Findlater, who are descendants from an old Scottish family. ALLELUJAH ! Jesus lives ! He is now the Living One. From the gloomy house of death Forth the Conqueror has gone, Bright forerunner to the skies Of His people yet to rise. Jesus lives ! let all rejoice ! Praise Him, ransomed ones of earth ; Praise Him, in a nobler song, Cherubim of heavenly birth ; Praise the Victor King, whose sway Sin and death and hell obey. Jesus lives ! why weepest thou ? Why that sad and frequent sigh ? 140 HALLELUJAH! JESUS LIVES I He who died our Brother here Lives our Brother still on high, — Lives forever, to bestow Blessings on His Church below. Jesus lives ! and thus, my soul, Life eternal waits for thee : Joined to Him, thy Living Head, Where He is, thou too shalt be ; With Himself, at His right hand, Victor over death shalt stand. Jesus lives ! To Him my heart Draws with ever-new delight : Earthly vanities, depart ! Hinder not my heavenward flight ! Let this spirit ever rise To its magnet in the skies. Hallelujah! angels, sing; Join us in our hymn of praise ; Let your chorus swell the strain Which our feebler voices raise ; Glory to our God above, And on earth His peace and love ! CHRIST HATH ARISEN I \.\\ Cririst Imtli Arisen! ByJoHANN W erman poets, born .n Frankfort-on-the-Main in 17 died in March, 183a. Hi> singularly active and fruitful mind was equally at home in literature and philosophy, in science and art: and I body of his published works might almost be said to constitute a literature in themselves. The following is the famous " Chorus of the Ai from " Faust." The translation is by Rev. Frederic H. Hedge, 1>.I>., who was born in Cambridge, Dee. 12, 1S05; graduated at Harvard Col- lege in 1825; was educated for the Unitarian ministry; rilled pastorates at West Can -. Providence, and Brookline; and since 1872 has held the Professorship of German Literature at Harvard. Bayard Taylor remarked of this chorus, that it is a stumbling-block to the trans- lator, on account of the fivefold dactylic rhyme; and added, " I>r. Hedge, I believe, is the only one who has hitherto endeavored to reproduce the difficult structure of this chorus." AN'GELS. [IHRIST hath arisen ! Joy to our buried Head ! Whom the unmerited, Trailing inherited Woes, did imprison ! WOMEN. Costly devices We had prepared, — Shrouds and sweet spices, Linen and nard. 142 CHRIST HATH ARISEN I Woe the disaster ! Whom we here laid, Gone is the Master, Empty His bed. ANGELS. Christ hath arisen Loving and glorious : Out of laborious Conflict victorious Christ hath arisen. DISCIPLES. Hath the inhumated, Upward aspiring, Hath He consummated All His desiring ? Is He in benign bliss, Near to creative joy ? Wearily we in this Earthly house sigh ; Empty and hollow, us Left He unblest. Master, Thy followers Envy Thy rest. BRIGHTL Y GLOWS THE MORNING RED! 143 ANGELS. Christ hath arisen ( hit of corruption's womb, Burst every prison ! Vanish death's gloom ! Active in charity, Praise I lim in verity ! His feast, prepare it ye ! His message, bear it ye ! His joy, declare it ye ! Then is the Master near, Then is He here. 51)oii3 Imgljtlu glotos tijr fHonunvj rcU Translated from the hymn-book of the Diocese of Treves, by Rich- ard Frederick Littledale. !0\V brightly glows the morning red ! \ Our Lite hath conquered, Death hath fled. The tomb is void, the warders foiled, The Heavens exult, and hell is spoiled. The whole creation's wide expanse Joys in its risen Saviour's glance ; 144 BRIGHTLY GLOWS THE MORNING RED! For He, Who dead and buried lay, Hath cast the cords of death away. His sacred wounds are gleaming bright, And choirs of Angels in the height Upon the clouds of purple rest, To watch that resurrection blest. Before the rising of the sun, The women to the tomb are gone ; And store of spices with them bring, To grace the Body of the King. And lo ! beside the open grave, A white-robed Angel tidings gave, — Why seek ye Him among the dead ? He hath arisen, and forth is sped. Our eyes have seen, our tongues shall tell, That Christ hath conquered death and hell ; The night of sin is done away, And Judah's Lion wins the day. Thy conquest is our faith. O Lord ! For evermore endures Thy word : Believing thus, in hope we die, To live m Thee for aye on high. / SAY TO ALL MEN, FAR AND NEAR. !.(5 E gag to all fHrn, JFar an) Near. }' >v l : ::; . ; :, h better known by hi* bteraiy \i.is. He was born in Pn studied at Leipsic ai He wrote one or two ron volume ofhynuis, and is characterised idealists " His Literary a< dvity was cut short by bis early d< sumption, March 19, 1801. The following translation is by Miss Wink- worth ijqf] SAY to all men, far and near, That He is risen again ; That He is with us, now and here, And ever shall remain. And what I say, let each this morn Go tell it to his friend, — That soon in every place shall dawn His kingdom without end. Now first to souls who thus awake Seems earth a fatherland : A new and endless life they take With rapture from His hand. The fears of death and of the grave Are whelmed beneath the sea ; And every heart, now light and brave, May face the things to be. I46 / SAY TO ALL MEN, FAR AXD XEAR. The way cf darkness, that He trod, To heaven at last shall come ; And he who hearkens to His word Shall reach His Father's home. Now let the mourner grieve no more, Though his beloved sleep : A happier meeting shall restore Their light to eyes that weep. Now every heart each noble deed With new resolve may dare : A glorious harvest shall the seed In happier regions bear. He lives : His presence hath not ceased, Though foes and fears be rife ; And thus we hail, in Easter's feast, A world renewed to life ! SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY SPLENDOR. 147 Sun, sijtnr forth in all tiju Splcntoor. ia, born at I pt. 28, 1859. He was a graduate of the University of Gottingen, and a minister of the Lutheran Church. Hi> character was marked by simplicity and gentleness, and his ministry wa> earnest and zeal ons — ever one hundred in number — enjoy a great popularity in Germany. They have been translated into English by Mr. RlCHARD MASSIE, in the " Lyra Domestica." UN, shine forth in all thy splendor; Joyfully pursue thy way : S For thy Lord and my Defender Rose triumphant on this day. When He bowed His head, sore troubled, Thou didst hide thyself in night : Shine forth now with rays redoubled ; He is risen Who is thy light. Earth, be joyous and glad-hearted ; Spread out all thy vernal bloom : For thy Lord is not departed ; He has broken through the tomb. When the Lord expired, wide-yawning, Thy strong rocks were rent with fright : Greet thy risen Lord this morning. Bathed in floods of rosy light 148 SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY SPLENDOR. Say, my soul, what preparation Makest thon for this high day, When the God of thy salvation Opened through the tomb a way ? Dwellest thou with pure affection On this proof of power and love ? Doth thy Saviour's resurrection Raise thy thoughts to things above ? Hast thou, borne on Faith's strong pinion, Risen with the risen Lord, And, released from sin's dominion, Into purer regions soared ? Or art thou, in spite of warning, Dead in trespasses and sin ? Hath to thee the purple morning No true Easter ushered in ? Oh, then, let not death o'ertake thee By the shades of night o'erspread ! See ! thy Lord has come to wake thee ; He is risen from the dead. While the time as yet allows thee, Hear : the gracious Saviour cries, — " Sleeper, from thy sloth arouse thee ; To new life at once arise ! " See, with looks of tender pity, He extends His wounded hands, SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY SPLENDOR. [49 Bidding thee, with fond entreaty, Shake ofl .sin's inthralling bands : — "Wait not for some future meeti Dread no punishment from me : Rouse thyself, and taste the sweetm Of the new life offered thee." Let no precious time be wasted ; To new life arise at length : He who death for thee hath tasted, For new life will give new strength. Try to rise ; at once bestir thee ; Still press on, and persevere ; Let no weariness deter thee ; He Who woke thee still is near. Waste not so much time in weighing When and where thou shalt begin : Too much thinking is delaying, Rivets but the chain of sin. He will help thee, and provide thee With a courage not thine own, Bear thee in His arms, and guide thee, Till thou learn'st to walk alone. See ! thy Lord Himself is risen, That thou mightest also rise, And emerge from sin's dark prison To new life and open skies. 150 LAMB, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED! Come to Him who can unbind thee, And reverse thy awful doom ; Come to Him, and leave behind thee Thy old life, — an empty tomb ! iamb, tijc ©ncr Cructft'rtr ! By Mrs. Pr Meta Heusser-Schweizer, whom Dr. Schaff ranks as the most gifted and sweetest of female poets in the German tongue. She was born in 1797 near Zurich, Switzerland, and in 1868 was still living there. The following sublime hymn was composed in 1831 ; and the trans- lation — a singularly successful one — was contributed by Professor Thom- as C. Porter of Lafayette College to Dr. Schaff 's collection, " Christ in Song." JAMB, the once crucified! Lion, by triumph surrounded ! Victim all bloody, and Hero, who hell hast confounded ! Pain-riven Heart, That from earth's deadliest smart O'er all the heavens hast bounded! — Thou in the depths wert to mortals the highest revealing, God in humanity veiled, Thy full glory con- cealing ! " Worthy art Thou ! " Shouteth Eternity now, Praise to Thee endlessly pealing. LAMB, THE ONC& CRUCIFIED! \$\ Heavenly Love, in the language of earth past expression ! Lord of all worlds, unto whom every tongue owes confession ! Didst Thou not go, And, under sentence of woe, Rescue the doomed by transgression ? ( >'er the abyss of the grave, and its horrors infernal, Victory's palm Thou art waving in triumph supernal : Who to Thee cling, Circled by hope, shall now bring Out of its gulf life eternal. Son of man, Saviour, in whom, with deep tenderness blending, Infinite Pity to wretches her balm is extend- ing, On Thy dear breast, Weary and numb, they may rest, Quickened to joy never-ending. Strange condescension! immaculate Purity, deigning Union with souls where the vilest pollution is reigning, 152 LAMB, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED! Beareth their sin, Seekcth the fallen to win, Even the lowest regaining. ' Sweetly persuasive, to me too Thy call has resounded, Melting my heart so obdurate. Thy love has abounded : Back to the fold, Led by Thy hand, I behold Grace all my path has surrounded. Bless thou the Lord, O my soul ! who, thy pardon assuring, Heals thy diseases, and grants thee new life ever during ; Joy amid woe, Peace amid strife here below, Unto thee ever securing. Upward, on pinions celestial, to regions of pleasure, Into the land whose bright glories no mortal can measure, Strong hope and love Bear Thee, the fulness to prove Of Thy salvation's rich treasure. LA MI!, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED I : -> There, as He is, we shall view Him, with rapture abiding, Cheered even here by His glance, when the darkness, dividing, down a ray. O'er the perilous way Thousands of wanderers guiding. Join, my voice! the vast chorus, with trembling emotion, — Chorus of saints, who, though sundered by land and by ocean, With sweet accord Praise the same glorious Lord, One in their ceaseless devotion. Break forth, O Nature ! in song, when the spring-tide is nighest ; World that hast seen His salvation, no longer thou sighest ! Shout, starry train, From your empyreal plain, — " Glorv to God in the highest ! " 154 THE LORD OF LIFE IS RISEN! ST!re ILortr of life is ftisrn! By Dr. Johann Peter Langb, Professor at Bonn, and Editor of the well-known series of Bible Commentaries. He was born at Sonnborn April 10, 1S02, and entered the University of Bonn in 1822. He became in 1841 Professor of Church History and Dogmatics at Zurich, and in 1854 Professor of Systematic Theology at Bonn, and in i860 Counsellor of Con- sistory. The following translation is by the late Dr. Henry Harbaigh, of Mercersburg, Penn. (died Dec. 28, 1867), and was contributed to Dr. Schaff's " Christ in Song." [HE Lord of life is risen ! Sing, Easter heralds ! sing ! He burst His rocky prison : Wide let the triumph ring. Tell how the graves are quaking, The saints their fetters breaking : Sing, heralds ! Jesus lives ! In death no longer lying, He rose, the Prince, to-day : Life of the dead and dying, He triumphed o'er decay. The Lord of Life is risen : In ruin lies Death's prison, Its keeper bound in chains. We hear in Thy blest greeting, — Salvation's work is done ! THE LORD OF LIFE IS RISEN I 155 We worship Thee, repeating, — Life for the dead is won ! ( ) I lead of all believing ! ( ) Joy of all the grieving Unite us, Lord, to Thee. Here at Thy tomb, O Jesus, How sweet the morning's breath ! We hear in all the breezes, — Where is thy sting, O Death ? Dark Hell flies in commotion ; While, far over earth and ocean, Loud Hallelujahs ring! Oh, publish this salvation, Ye heralds, through the earth ! To every buried nation Proclaim the day of birth ! Till, rising from their slumbers, The countless heathen numbers Shall hail the risen light. Hail, hail, our Jesus risen ! Sing, ransomed brethren, sing ! Through Death's dark, gloomy prison Let Easter chorals ring ; Haste, haste, ye captive legions ! Come forth from sin's dark regions; In Jesus' Kingdom live. 156 UP! SOUND YOUR JOYFUL SONGS. 2Ep! souno your Sogfttl &ongs Victorious. Translated from the German by Henry Thompson, and contributed to the " Lyra Messianica." P ! sound your joyful songs victorious And jubilant to Jesus Christ to- day ! Back to His own he comes all-glorious : • The grave's strong portals burst to make Him way. He sank below, in pain and sore disgrace : He mounts above, His pathway Angels trace. Our God prevails ! yes, fraud and malice Their little day may triumph o'er the Just : God gives them back their poisoned chalice ; Our strength is He, our Helper and our Trust. He gave indeed His Son to mortal pain : This day He shows Him glorified again. Praise, praise to him ! the Lord is risen ! Now is He Saviour, Lord, and God indeed ; Redeemer from sin's deadly prison ; From death Redeemer, and from all our need. UP! SOUND YOUR JOYFUL SONGS. 15/ The Father hath avouched Him His this day: We reach our country through no other way. Bliss, bliss, to US ! now death hath o'er us No power to fright ; to immortality, Though Earth her veil may spread before us, Our spirits now are consecrate and free : Could Christ arise thus potent from the grave, His flock shall rise, whom thus He died to save. Jrom tl)c 0webiol). OUR PASCHAL JOY A T LAST IS HERE I \'">i Our IJasdjal Sou at last is rjrrc! Translated from the Swedish of Laurence Petersen, who wrote in the sixteenth century, by RlCHARD Frederick Littledale, D. C. L. I >r. Littledale was horn about 1830; graduated at Dublin University in 1855; was ordained deacon in 1856, and priest in 1857. He was curate in Thorpe Hamlet in 1856-7, and of St Mary-the-Yirgin, London, from 1857 to 1861. He has written several scholarly works in prose, chiefly on ecclesiastical subjects; was the principal editor of "The People's Hym- nal; " and is the author of numerous excellent translations of Latin, Swed- ish, and German hymns. jlUR Paschal joy at last is here ! We praise Thee, Christ, Redeemer dear : From death Thy servants Thou dost save, Thyself arising from the grave. The Tree of Life its Fruit hath borne, — The Tree where Thou wast hung in scorn, Whereon Thy rosy Blood was shed, — And now we feed on Heavenly Bread. We praise Thee, Jesu ; for Thy hand Hath freed us from corruption's band : 1 62 OUR PASCHAL JOY AT LAST LS LLERE ! Our weary thraldom now is o'er ; We bow beneath the Law no more. True Paschal Lamb, for sinners slain, Christ, free from blemish, pure from stain, Be Thou our Strength, our Food, our Life, In all our need, in all our strife. Thou Who hast conquered hell in fight, We can do all things through Thy might, — Set free the slaves to give Thee laud, And bring them to the land of God. O risen Lord ! grant us to rise, As Thou hast done, in joyful wise, — First for Thy work, from error's gloom ; Then, on the last day, from the tomb. We praise Thee, who from Death's fierce hold The carnal, under evil sold, Hast freed, and pointed out the way Where we must tread to live for aye. DAWN BURSTS O'ER DEATH'S PRISON. [63 Baton bursts o'er Dratlj's Prison, By Franz Michael Franzsn, Bishop of HornSsand, who was bom at (Jleaborg, Finland, in 1773, and died in 1S47. He it the Univcn . and became professor o\ literary history there. Later he received the living of kaimla in Sweden, and m 1835 he I incumbent of Santa Clara in Stockholm. In 1S41 he was appointed Bishop of Hornosand. His poetry has been compared to that of the so-called Lake school of English poets, in its simple and accurate de- lineations of the natural, the domestic, and the idyllic The following ition is by A. P. Hitchcock, one of the editors of " The Norwich (Conn.) Bulletin." The last three stanzas were first printed in a little Easter leaf-cluster called " Buona Pasqua," in 1S7S: the first two, com- pleting the poem, were contributed by Mr. Hitchcock to a collection of Easter poetry, compiled by the editor of the present volume, which was published in " The Boston Journal " April 20, 187S. |AWN bursts o'er Death's prison ; Fulfilled is the Word ! To life He hath risen : Oh, joy to the Lord! Redemption completed, The last foe defeated, The seal has been broken, the tomb is un- barred : At the breath of His passing, in fright fled the guard, And Tartarus groans, Alleluia! The darkness infernal Withstood Him in fight ; 164 DAWIV BURSTS O'ER DEATH'S PRISON. But victory eternal He won for the right. Death's kingdom is ended : Faith rises again, 'Mid destinies blended, With Hope in her train. Ye sorrowing women, why seek ye the dead ? From the grave He hath conquered, the Liv- ing hath fled ! The Saviour hath risen, Alleluia ! Once more upon mortals God smileth in love : The grave opes its portals To pathways above. Heads bending in sadness 'Neath Calvary's cross, Look upward with gladness, Nor fear the world's loss ! Come back, scattered flock, to your Shepherd and Lord ! He liveth ! He liveth ! to watch you and ward, Unseen from the skies, Alleluia f Ye ages, storm onward ! His Church shall not fail DAW \ BURSTS O'ER DEATHS PRISON. 165 As light spreads from sunward, i [is love shall pr jvail. 1 lis messengers, flying Where foot hath e'er trod, Through battling and dying, Hear witness of God, — Bear witness of Thee, Thou Trust in all need, Who, dying for us, didst Thy followers lead Through death up to life, Alleluia! Ye saints, why your sorrow, Your doubt and dismay ? The night and the morrow Will soon wear away. Soon, soon in earth's bosom Shall sleep end your pain ; Soon life shall re-blossom And spring up like grain. Himself, the great Sower, shall come at the end, And winnow His wheat from the tares, and ascend To garner his sheaves, Alleluii! <£nglisl). DQXE IS A BATTLE OX THE DRAGON. 1 69 Dour is a Battle on tljr Dragon Black. By WlLUAM DUNBAR, who was born at Salton, in East Lothian, Scot- nit the year 1460. He took the degree of M.A., at . and was employed for some time as an itinerant or preaching friar. v';x)Ut 1500 he live i the court, and was the : -ions and other tokens of royal favor. In 151 1 he visited Scotland, in the tram of Queen Margaret After the defeat at Flodden, and the ieath, his name disappears He is supposed to have died about He had a wonderful variety of poetic gifts, as original as they were wide in range, and he may be fairly described as a Scotch Chaucer. His chief poems are " The Thistle and the Rose," and " The Golden Terge." |ONE is a battle on the Dragon black : Our Champion, Christ, confoundit has his force : The yetts 1 of Hell are broken with a crack : The sign triumphal raist 2 is of the cross : The devils tremmils 3 with hideous voice : The souls are borrowit, 4 and to the bliss can go: Christ with His blood our ransoms does in- dooce : 5 Surrexit Dominus de sepulchro, Dungin 6 is the deidly dragon Lucifer, The cruel serpent with the mortal stang; 1 Gates. - Raised. 3 Trembles. 4 Redeemed. 5 Indorse, 6 Overthrown. ' S tin y Edmcnd Stenser. who was born in London in 1553; graduated at Cambridge in 1572; died in London Jan. 15. 1509. He held - offices under the Crown, and resided for some years in Ireland, where at one time he possessed a large estate. By the breaking out c. rebellion he lost his property, and die.: . itution. " The Faery Queen " was his great work: but he wrote also many lesser pieces, and some exquisite sonnets. The following is the sixty -eighth oi the '' Amoreti." ■OST glorious Lord of Life ! that on this day Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin, And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win : This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin ; 172 SAVIOUR OF MANKIND. And grant that we, for whom Thou diddest die, Being with Thy dear blood clean washed from sin, May live forever in felicity ! And that Thy love, we, weighing worthily, May likewise love Thee for the same again ; And for Thy sake, that all like dear didst buy, With love may one another entertain. So let us love, dear love, like as we ought : Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught. Mainour of fHanluntr, £Han! Emmanuel! By George Sandys, who was born at Bishopsthorpe, Yorkshire, in 1577, and died in March, 1643. He was a son of the Archbishop of York, and studied at Oxford. He made an extensive tour in Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land, and published accounts of his travels, in prose and verse. After this, he became treasurer of the colony of Virginia, and, while in this country, published a translation of the Metamorphoses of Ovid, which was one of the earliest of American books. He published other works, in prose and verse; and Dry den styled him " the best versifier of the former age." The following lines, which are exquisitely finished, were written at the Temple of the Holy Sepulchre. AVIOUR of mankind, Man! Em- manuel ! !1 Who, sinless, died for sin ; Who van- quished hell ; SAVIOUR OF MANKIND. 173 The first-fruits of the grave; Whose life did give Light to our darkness ; in Whose death we live : ( )h, strengthen Thou my faith, correct my will, So that the latter death shall not devour My soul sealed with Thy seal ! So in the hour When Thou, Whose body sanctified this tomb, Unjustly judged, a glorious Judge shalt come To judge the world with justice, by that sign I shall be known and entertained for Thine. 174 SLEEP, SLEEP, OLD SUN. Sleep, sleep, oto &un; tijou eanst not fjatre recast. By Dr. John Donne, who was born in 1573, and died Dean of St. Paul's in 1631. He was educated for the law, but never practised it; and having lost his secretaryship to the Lord Chancellor Ellesmere through the revenge of Sir George More, whose daughter Donne had married in secret, he was for some years dependent on the generosity of his friends. He yielded only after prolonged reflection to the importunity of King James, who was so convinced of his fitness for the church that he would give him no other preferment. He was made Vicar of St. Dunstan's, and Dean of St. Paul's; and he gave himself up to his sacred duties with a whole-hearted devotion and sincerity which justified the king's estimate of his powers. Sorrow and poverty were not strangers to his life; but he preserved a serene and trustful spirit. He is usually considered as the first of the so-called " metaphysical poets " of the seventeenth century. There are many quaint, and some grotesque, conceits among his poems; but there is also considerable elevation of thought, and genuineness of feeling. |LEEP, sleep, old sun ; thou canst not have re-past l As yet the wound thou took'st on Friday last. Sleep, then, and rest : the world may bear thy stay ; A better sun rose before thee to-day ; Who, not content to enlighten all that dwell On the earth's face, as thou, enlightened hell, And made the dark fires languish in that vale, As at thy presence here our fires grow pale ; Whose body, having walked on earth, and now 1 Recovered. LET FAITHFULL SOULL I 75 Hastening to heaven, would, that He might allow Himself unto all stations, and fill all, these three days heeome a mineral. He was all gold when he lay down, but r< All tincture; and doth not alone disp< .en and iron wills to good, but is Of power to make even sinful flesh like His. Had one of those, whose credulous piety Thought that a soul one might discern and see Go from a body, at this sepulchre been, And issuing from the sheet this body seen, He would have justly thought this body a soul, If not of any man, yet of the whole. ILrt jrattfjfuil Soulcs tfjts DouMc JFcast attend By Sir John Beaumont, elder brother of Francis Beaumont the dramatist, born in 1582, and died in 1628. Among his writings are a few- fine religious poems. The following was written upon the two feasts of the Annunciation and the Resurrection, falling on the same day, March 25, 1627. Only the closing part is here given: the poem begins, " Thrjce happy day, which sweetly dost combine." ET faithfull soules this double feast attend In two processions. Let the first descend 176 LET FAITHFULL SOCLES. The temple's staires, and with a downe-cast eye Vpon the lowest pavement prostrate lie : In creeping violets, white lillies shine Their humble thoughts, and ev'ry pure de- signe. The other troope shall climbe with sacred heate The rich degrees of Salomon's bright seate : In glowing roses fervent zeale they beare ; And in the azure flowre-de-lis appeare Celestial contemplations, which aspire Above the skie, up to th' immortal quire. /'//, WHY II AST THO : TTIRE1 I JJ Sag, Eartlj, foiiu liast tljott got tfjee Nefo attire? F.y ( , .::r> Flbtcher, the date of whose birth is by Chalmers jecturt n 1 5 S 3 : though it should probably be ; '■ Canto " on the death of Elizabeth — a \ \ :Mished in 1603. H :i. where he died in 1623. His chief work was " Christ's Yictorie and Triumph," which w.i- lished in 1610, and is known to have had considerable influence in mould- ing the muse of Milton. The poem is now little read; but it contains some beautiful passages, which richly repay perusal. The follow taken from the fourth section of the poem, on " Christ's Triumph after I>eath." In the wide range of Easter poetry, there are few things more exquisite than this representation of the universal sympathy of Nature in the joy of the Resurrection. The text quoted is that of the edition of the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart, in the " Fuller Worthies' Library." I AY, Earth, why hast thou got thee new attire, And stick'st thy habit full of dazies red ? Seems that thou doest to some high thought aspire, And some newe- found -out bridegroome mean'st to wed. Tell me, ye trees, so fresh appareed, So neuer let the spitefull canker wast you, So neuer let the heau'ns with lightning blast you, Why goe you now so trimly drest, or whither hast you ? 178 SAY, EARTH, WHY HAST THOU Answer me, Iordan, why thy crooked tide So often wanders from his neerest way, As though some other way thy streame would slide, And fain salute the place where something lay ? And you, sweete birds, that, shaded from the ray, Sit carrolling and piping griefe away, The while the lambs to heare you daunce and play, — Tell me, sweete birds, what is it you faine would say ? And thou, fair spouse of Earth, that euerie yeare Gett'st such a numerous issue of thy bride, How chance thou hotter shin'st, and draw'st more neare ? Sure thou somew T hear some worthie sight hast spide, That in one place for ioy thou canst not bide. And you, dead swallowes, that so liuely now Through the flit ' aire your winged passage rowe, How could new life into your frozen ashes flowe ? 1 Flittins; ; i.e., moving. T THEE NEW A nil . 179 Ye primroses and purple violets, Tell me, why blaze ye from your leauie 1 bed. And wooe men's hands to rent you from your As though you would somewhear be carried, With fresh perfumes and velvets garnished ? But ah ! I neede not aske, 'tis sureh You all would to your Sauiour's triumphs goe : There would ye all waaite and humble hom- age doe. Thear should the Earth herself e, with gar- lands newe And louely flow'rs embellished, adore : Such roses neuer in her garland gTewe, Such lillies neuer in her brest she wore, Like beautie neuer yet did shine before : Thear should the sunne another sunne be- hold, From whence himselfe borrowes his locks of gold, That kindle heau'n and earth with beauties manifold. There might the violet and primrose sweet, Beames of more liuely and more louely grace, 1 Leafy. l8o THIS IS THE DAY Arising from their beds of incense meet ; Thear should the swallows see new life em- brace Dead ashes, and the graue vnheal 1 his face, To let the living from his bowels creepe, Vnable longer his owne dead to keepe : There heau'n and earth should see their Lord awake from sleepe. 1 Unveil, or uncover. Efjis is tfje ©ag tije 3Lorti J)atfj mate. By George Wither, born at Bentworth, Hampshire, in 1588; died 1667. He graduated at Oxford, and studied law, but soon adopted literature as a profession. His life was a troubled one, and he was twice imprisoned for political writings. He was a captain of horse in an expe- dition against the Scots in 1639, but on the rise of the Commonwealth raised a troop of horse for the Parliament, and won the rank of major. He was a man of deep and fervid convictions. He was a voluminous writer. His poetry abounds in forced and fanciful conceits, and much of it is on trivial themes; but it contains many gems which were not adequately appreciated during the poet's lifetime, nor for several generations after. jlHIS is the day the Lord hath made, And therein joyful we will be ; For from the black infernal shade In triumph back returned is He : The snares of Satan and of Death He hath victoriously undone, And fast in chains He bound them hath, His triumph to attend upon. THE LORD HATH MADE. 1K1 The grave, which all men did del And held a dun-con full of fear, Is now become a bed of rest, And no such terrors find we there. For Jesus Christ hath took away The horror of that loathed pit ; E'en ever since that glorious day In which Himself came out of it. His mockings, and His bitter smarts, He to our praise and ease doth turn ; And all things to our joy converts, Which He with heavy heart hath borne: His broken flesh is now our food ; His blood is shed, is ever since That drink which doth our souls most good, And that which shall our foulness cleanse. Those wounds so deep, and torn so wide, As in a rock our shelters are ; That which they pierced through His side Is made a dove-hole for His dear : Yea, now we know, as was foretold, His flesh did no corruption see ; And that hell wanted strength to hold So strong and one so blest as He. Oh ! let us praise His name therefore, (Who thus the upper hand hath won,) I 82 HENCE THE Y HA VE BORN MY LORD. For we had else, forevermore, Been lost and utterly undone : Whereas His favor doth allow That we with boldness thus may sing: — O Hell ! where is thy conquest now ? And thou (O Death) ! where is thy sting ? Octree tijeg ijabe Born tttjj ILorti, Bc^ ijoltr ! tlje Stone. By Robert Herrick, who was born in 1591, and died about 1674. He studied for a time at Cambridge, with the intention of adopting the legal profession; but changed his purpose, and entered into holy orders. From 1629 to 1648 he was Vicar of Dean Prior in Devonshire, but was ejected by the Puritan party, to whom his royalism and his loose morals were alike distasteful. He lived for some years in London, so poor as to be a recipient of charity, but enjoying converse with the literary wits of the day. About 1660 his vicarage was restored to him, and he retained it until his death. He was ill adapted to the sacred office, and his verse exhibits the same fluctuations and contradictions as his life. The follow- ing is found among his " Noble Numbers." jjENCE they have born my Lord. Behold ! the stone Is rowl'd away, and my sweet Sav- iour's gone. Tell me, white angell, what is now become Of Him we lately seal'd up in this tombe ? Is He from hence gone to the shades beneath To vanquish Hell, as here He conquer'd Death ? If so, I'le thither follow without feare, And live in hell, if that my Christ staves there. RISE, HEART: THY LORD IS RISEN. I S3 l\tsf, jjeart : tliy iLorD is Risen. Sing 1i)iS praise. By I m of his saintly life poetry, came to be known as " holy ( ; ( j wnery Castle, Wales, April 3, 1593; graduated with Cambridge, and became a fellow of Trinity College in 1615. He took orders, and became prebendary of Leigbton Bromswold, in married in 1630; and was given the living of Bemerton, n< where he died in February, [632. In 1631 he published "The Temple; Poems and Private Ejaculations:" and several volumes of hi*. writings, in prose and verse, were published after his death. allSE, heart : thy Lord is risen. Sing His praise, Without delayes, Who takes thee by the hand, that thou like- wise With Him may'st rise; That, as His death calcined thee to dust, His life may make thee gold, and much more just. Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part With all thy art : The crosse taught all wood to resound His name Who bore the same ; His stretched sinews taught all strings what key Is best to celebrate this most high day. 184 RISE, HEART: THY LORD IS RISEN. Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song Pleasant and long : Or, since all musick is but three parts vied, And multiplied, Oh, let thy blessed Spirit bear a part, And make up our defects with His sweet art ! I got me flowers to straw Thy way ; I got me boughs off many a tree : But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. The Sunne arising in the East, Though he give light, and th' East perfume, If they should offer to contest With Thy arising, they presume. Can there be any day but this, Though many sunnes to shine endeavor ? We count three hundred ; but we misse : There is but one, and that one ever. LORD, WHO CREATEDST MAX. I dearest God, preserve our souls In holy innocence ! Make us to rise again to th' life of grace ; That we may live with thee, and see Thy glorious face, The crown of holy penitence. Bfee, 5)rtr of JFrrslj Eternitg, By Richard Crashaw, who was born in London about 1616; grad- uated at Cambridge, where he obtained a fellowship in 1637; and entered the English Church in 1641, becoming an earnest and eloquent preacher. The Parliament ejected him from his fellowship in 1644 for refusing to take the Covenant, and he soon after adopted the Roman-Catholic faith. After some hardships, he was recommended to certain Italian dignitaries. He was appointed secretary to one of the cardinals, and canon of the Church of Lorette In this office he died in 1650. He wrote both Latin and English poems; and the latter, of which the following is a good ex- ample, greatly resemble the hymns of George Herbert. i*^s|fISE, heir of fresh eternity, »j From thy virgin-tomb ; Rise, mighty man of wonders, and thy world with thee ; Thy tomb, the universal East, — Nature's new womb ; Thy tomb, — fair Immortality's perfumed nest. 198 RISE, HEIR OF FRESH ETERNITY. Of all the glories l make noon gay This is the morn ; This rock buds forth the fountain of the streams of day ; In joy's white annals lives this hour, When life was born, No cloud-scowl on his radiant lids, no tem- pest-lower. Life, by this light's nativity, All creatures have ; Death only by this day's just doom is forced to die. Nor is Death forced ; for, may he lie Throned in thy grave, Death will on this condition be content to die. 1 Which understood. DEATH AND DARKNESS. 199 Dratl) anti Darkness, get jgoti parking ! By Hknk, ' >rn in Newton, Wales, hi roai ; and died April 5. He studied at Oxford, ai physician; but chiefly de- lighted in literary pursuits. He was an admirer and disciple of Herbert; and his " Silex Scintlllans," a collection of sa» red poems, was moddled after Herbert's " Temple.* 1 His earlier poetry was of a secular order, al- though free from the objectionable features of the poetry of the time. Severe illness gave a more serious turn to his mind; and he wrote several devotional works in prose, l)esides the volume of sacred poems already referred to. He associated with men of genius in London; but his poetry was not appreciated during his life. It exhibits the defects as well as the excellences of its mLviel; but is quaint, striking, suggestive, and very often impressive. jjEATH and darkness, get you pack- ing ! Nothing now to man is lacking ; All your triumphs now are ended, And what Adam marr'd is mended. Graves are beds now for the weary, Death a nap to wake more merry ; Youth now, full of pious duty, Seeks in thee for perfect beauty ; The weak and aged, tired with length Of daies, from thee look for new strength ; And infants with thy pangs contest As pleasant as if with the brest. Then unto Him who thus hath thrown Even to contempt thy kingdome down, 200 THOU WHOSE SAD HEART. And by His blood did us advance Unto His own inheritance, To Him be glory, power, praise, From this unto the last of daies ! SHjott m\)05t sali $?cart an* keeping f^catr lues ILofo. By Henry Vaughn, 1621-1695. — See note to preceding. HOU whose sad heart and weeping head lyes low, Whose cloudy brest cold damps in- vade, Who never feel'st the sun, nor smooth'st thy brow, But sitt'st oppressed in the shade, — Awake ! awake ! And in His resurrection partake, Who on this day, that thou might'st rise as He, Rose up, and cancell'd two deaths due to thee. Awake ! awake ! and, like the sun, disperse All mists that would usurp this day : Where are thy palms, thy branches, and thy verse ? Hosanna ! hark ! why dost thou stay ? Arise ! arise ! BLEST MORNING. 20 1 And with his healing bloud anoint thil Thy inward eyes: His bloud will cure thy mind, Whose spittle only could restore the blind. Blest {Homing, foljosc gounfl Batoning L\aus. By Is SAC Watts, D.D., one of the most famous and prolific of I lish hymn-writers. He was born at Southampton July 17, 1674; and died Nov. 25, 1748. He possessed such precocious talents, that he began the study of Latin in his fourth year, and wrote very tolerable hymns at the age of seven. He was a minister of the Independent Church in London, and he wrote in prose as well as verse, — his be>t-known prose work beinji a treatise on Logic and Improvement of the Mind. jjLEST morning, whose young dawning rays Beheld our rising God ; That saw Him triumph o'er the dust, And leave His dark abode ! In the cold prison of a tomb The dead Redeemer lay, Till the revolving skies had brought The third, the appointed day. Hell and the grave unite their force To hold our God in vain : The sleeping Conqueror arose, And burst their feeble chain. 202 YES, THE REDEEMER ROSE. To Thy great name, Almighty Lord, These sacred hours we pay, And loud hosannas shall proclaim The triumph of the day. Salvation and immortal praise To our victorious King ! Let heaven and earth, and rocks and seas, With s;lad hosannas ring ! 3fcs, tfjc ftctiecmcr rose. By Philip Doddridge, D.D., who was born in London in 1702, and died at Lisbon in 1751. He was pastor of a Congregational church at Kibworth, and later at Northampton, where he also carried on an acade- my. Here two hundred students received their training, of whom one hundred and twenty entered the ministry. He was a man of rare piety and industry, and occupied a sphere of wide usefulness as pastor, preacher, teacher, expositor of the Scriptures, and author of religious works in prose and verse. His hymns were written to be sung at the close of his sermons; and they have been compared to " spiritual amber, fetched up and floated off from sermons long since lost in the depths of bygone time." They were published after his death. He was never of robust health, and his multiplied labors hastened the pulmonary disease which caused his death. ES, the Redeemer rose : The Saviour left the dead, And o'er our hellish foes High raised His conquering head. In wild dismay, The guards around Fell to the ground, And sunk away. VES, THE REDEEMER / 203 Lo ! the angelic bands In full assembly meet, To wait His high commands, And worship at I lis feet : Joyful they come, And wing their way From realms of day To such a tomb. Then back to heaven they fly, And the glad tidings bear : Hark ! as they soar on high, What music fills the air! Their anthems say, — "Jesus, Who bled, „ Hath left the dead : He rose to-day." Ye mortals, catch the sound, Redeemed by Him from hell, And send the echo round The globe on which you dwell Transported, cry, — " Jesus, Who bled, Hath left the dead, No more to die." 204 CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TO-DAY. All hail, triumphant Lord, Who sav'st us with Thy blood ! Wide be Thy name adored, Thou rising, reigning God ! With Thee we rise, With Thee we reign, And empires gain Beyond the skies. Cfjrtst tfje Hortf is risen fto^ag- By Chari.es Wesley, one of the founders of Methodism, and one of the sweetest, as he was certainly the most prolific, of English hymn- writers. He was born at Epworth Dec. 18, 1708, and graduated at Ox- ford. In 1735 he took orders, and immediately went to Georgia as a mis- sionary, in company with his brother John. The mission was unsuccessful ; but its results were of great importance to the Wesley s, as their intercourse with the Moravian Christians who sailed in the same ship with them led them to embrace their views. On their return to England they formed, in conjunction with Whitefield and others, the first Methodist society, in Fetter Lane, London ; and thenceforth their lives were devoted to propagating the doctrines and illustrating the principles of that zealous and active de- nomination. Charles Wesley died March 29, 1788, leaving behind him more than four thousand published hymns, and over two thousand in man- uscript. In such a vast body of verse there must needs be much chaff; but there are also many grains of pure wheat. jHRIST the Lord is risen to-day, Sons of men, and angels, say : Raise your joys and triumphs high ; Sing, ye heavens; and, earth, reply. CHRIST THE LORD IS RJ DAY. Love's redeeming work is done, Fought the light, the battle won : Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er ; Lo! He sets in blood no more. Vain the stone, the watch, the seal : Christ hath burst the gates of hell ! 1 teath in vain forbids His rise : Christ hath opened Paradise ! Lives again our glorious King: Where, Death, is now thy sting? Once He died our souls to save : Where thy victory, O grave ? Soar we now where Christ has led, Following our exalted Head. .Made like Him, like Him we rise : Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. What though once we perished all, Partners in our parents' fall ? Second life we all receive, In our Heavenly Adam live. Risen with Him, we upward move : Still we seek the things above ; Still pursue, and kiss the Son, Seated on His Father's throne. 206 CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TO-DAY. Scarce on earth a thought bestow, Dead to all we leave below : Heaven our aim, and loved abode ; Hid our life with Christ in God, — Hid till Christ our Life appear, Glorious in His members here : Joined to Him, we then shall shine, All immortal, all divine. Hail the Lord of earth and heaven ! Praise to Thee by both be given ! Thee we greet triumphant now : Hail, the Resurrection Thou ! King of glory, Soul of bliss ! Everlasting life is this, Thee to know, Thy power to prove, Thus to sing, and thus to love ! MARY TO HER SAVIOUR'S TOMB. ftfaru to [jet Mainour's (Tomb. By J HM Ni a Ti M, II '. I was born in I OQjdoil in 1725, an . and romantii 1 i- el and ;i his home from Africa — where he had lived in the iring a terrific storm, that the truth of Christianity broke in upon him, and he became a changed man. For some y continued to follow the sea; but in 1758 he began to preach, and, after . entered upon a regular ministry in the cur In 1779 he became rector of a London church, and his labors were earnest and fruitful. He published several volumes in prose, and was the principal author of the Olney Hymns. ARY to her Saviour's tomb Hasted at the early dawn : Spice she brought, and sweet per- fume ; But the Lord she loved was gone. For a while she weeping stood, Struck with horror and surprise ; Shedding tears, a plenteous flood, For her heart supplied her eyes. Grief and sighing quickly fled When she heard His welcome voice : Just before, she thought Him dead ; Xow He bids her heart rejoice. What a change His word can make, Turning darkness into day ! 208 THE HAPPY MORN IS COME I You who weep for Jesus' sake, He will wipe your tears away. He who came to comfort her When she thought her all was lost Will for your relief appear, Though you now are tempest-tossed. On His word your burden cast, On His love your thoughts employ : Weeping for a while may last ; But the morning brings the joy. Cfje H?app2 Jftorn is come! By Thomas Haweis, LL.B., born at Truro, Cornwall, in 1732; died in 1820. He graduated at Christ's College, Cambridge, and held a rec- torship at Aldwinkle, Northamptonshire. He was a popular preacher, and one of the founders of the London Missionary Society. He was the author of several prose works, — among them a translation of the New Testament, and a commentary on the Bible, — and of a volume of hymns entitled " Carmina Christo." HE happy morn is come ! Triumphant from the grave, The Lord hath left the tomb, Omnipotent to save. Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, and was dead. 77//-: HAPPY MORN IS COME! Who now accuseth them For whom their Surety died ? Who now shall those condemn Whom God hath justified ? Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, and was dead. Christ hath the ransom paid ; His glorious work is done : ( )n I lim our help is laid, By Him our victory won. Captivity is captive led ; Fur Jesus liveth, and was dead. To God, the Risen Son, Father and Spirit blest, x Eternal Three in One, All worship be addrest. Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, and was dead. 2IO ANGELS, ROLL THE ROCK AWAY ! &n/■ DA YSi 231 And week-days, following in their train, The fulness oi thy blessing gain ; Till all, both resting and employ, Be one Lord's day of holy joy. Then wake, my soul, to high desires, And earlier light thine altar-fires : The World some hours is on her way, Nor thinks on thee, thou blessed day. Or, if she thinks, it is in scorn : The Vernal light of Easter morn To her dark gaze no brighter seems Than Reason's or the Law's pale beams. " Where is your Lord ? " she scornful asks : ''Where is His hire? we know His tasks: Sons of a King ye boast to be : Let us your crowns and treasures see." We in the words of Truth reply, (An angel brought them from the sky,) — "Our crown, our treasure, is not here ; 'Tis stored above the highest sphere. Methinks your wisdom guides amiss, To seek on earth a Christian's bliss : We watch not now the lifeless stone ; Our only Lord is risen and gone." 232 O DAY OF DAYS! Yet even the lifeless stone is dear, For thoughts of Him who late lay here ; And the base world, now Christ hath died, Ennobled is, and glorified. Xo more a charnel-house to fence The relics of lost innocence, — A vault of ruin and decay : The imprisoning stone is rolled away. 'Tis now a cell, where angels use To come and go with heavenly news, And in the ears of mourners say, — " Come, see the place where Jesus lay." 'Tis now a fane where Love can find Christ everywhere embalmed and shrined, Aye gathering up memorials sweet Where'er she sets her duteous feet Oh, joy to Mary first allowed, When roused from weeping o'er His shroud By His own calm, soul-soothing tone, Breathing her name as still His own ! Joy to the faithful three renewed, As their glad errand they pursued ! Happy, who so Christ's word convey, That He may meet them on their way. CHRIST HATH ARISEN! So LS it still : to holy tears, In lonely hours, Christ risen appe In social hours, who Christ would Must turn all tasks to charity. (Tlirist Ijatlj arisen! © fflountam- Peaks, attest! Mrs. Fbucia Hi mans, bora at Liverpool Sept. 25, 1793; died at Ihiblin May 16, 1835. A woman of rare loveliness of character, her life was clouded by domestic trouble, and by long and painful illness; but her verse was always clear, pure, and elevated in sentiment, and ex- hibited a serene faith. .She holds a place among the foremost of the Ih female poets, and was one of the most prolific writers of her day. The stanzas which follow constitute the concluding portion of her poem, " Easter Day in a Mountain Churchyard." [HRIST hath arisen ! O mountain- peaks, attest ! Witness, resounding glen and torrent- wave ! The immortal courage in the human breast Sprung from that victory ; tell how oft the brave To camp midst rock and cave, Nerved by those words, their struggling faith have borne, Planting the cross on high above the clouds of morn ! 234 CHRIST HATH ARISEN! The Alps have heard sweet hymnings for to- day ; Ay, and wild sounds of sterner, deeper tone Have thrilled their pines, when those that knelt to pray Rose up to arm ! The pure, high snows have known A coloring not their own, But from true hearts, which, by that crimson stain, Gave token of a trust that called no suffering vain. Those days are past : the mountains wear no more The solemn splendor of the martyr's blood ; And may that awful record, as of yore, Never again be known to field or flood ! E'en though the faithful stood, A noble army, in the exulting sight Of earth and heaven, which blessed their battle for the right ! But many a martyrdom by hearts unshaken Is yet borne silently in homes obscure ; And many a bitter cup is meekly taken ; And for the strength whereby the just and pure Thus steadfastly endure, WEEPER! HOW BRIGHT A MORN! Glory to Him whose victory won that dower, — Him from whose rising streamed that robe of spirit-power ! Glory to Him ! Hope to the suffering breast ! Light to the nations ! He hath rolled away The mists, which, gathering into deathlike Between the soul and heaven's calm ether lay. His love hath made it day With those that sat in darkness. Earth and sea, Lift up glad strains for man by truth divine made free ! BHeeper! to tfjrc Ijofo Brtcjljt a fflom foas gifcen ! By Mrs. HEMANS. — See note to preceding. The following sonnet is upon " Man- Magdalene at the Sepulchre." |EEPER ! to thee how bright a morn was given After thy long, long vigil of despair, When that high voice which burial-rocks had riven Thrilled with immortal tones the silent air! Never did clarion's royal blast declare Such tale of victory to a breathless crowd, 236 ALL IS O'ER ; THE PAIN, THE SORRO ll\ As the deep sweetness of one word could bear Into thy heart of hearts, O woman ! bowed By strong affection's anguish ! one low word, - " Mary ! " — and all the triumph wrung from death Was thus revealed; and thou, that so hadst erred, So wept, and been forgiven, in trembling faith Didst cast thee dowm before the all-conquer- ing Son, Awed by the mighty gift thy tears and love had won ! $ttl is o'er; tfjc $am, tfje &orrofo* By John Moultrie, who was born Dec. 30, 1799; educated at Eton and Cambridge; ordained deacon in 1825, and priest soon after; and en- tered the living of Rugby in 1828, whicli he retained until his death, — from disease contracted at the bedside of a parishioner, — in December, 1874. A complete edition of his poems was published after his death. Moir characterizes him as "a poet of elegant mind, and of considerable pathetic power." Several of his religious poems have come into general use as hymns; and an abridged and somewhat altered version of the fol- lowing, comprising only the first three and the last verses, is adopted in the Hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and in several other hymnals. LL is o'er ; the pain, the sorrow, Human taunts, and fiendish spite : Death shall be despoiled to-morrow Of the prey he grasps to-night : ALL TSO'ER; THE PAIN, THE SOR \ et once more, to seal his 'loom, Christ must sleep within the tomb. Close and still the cell that holds Him, While in brief repose He 1; p the slumber that infolds Him, Veiled a while from mortal eyes, — Slumber such as needs must be After hard-won victory. Fierce and deadly was the anguish Which on yonder cross He bore : How did soul and body languish Till the toil of death was o'er ! But that toil, so fierce and dread, Bruised and crushed the serpent's head. Whither hath His soul departed ? Roams it on some blissful shore, Where the meek and faithful-hearted, Vext by this world's hate no more, Wait until the trump of doom Call their bodies from the tomb ? Or, on some benignant mission To the imprisoned spirits sent, Hath He to their dark condition Gleams of hope and mercy lent ? — 238 ALL IS O'ER ; THE PAIN % THE SORROW. Souls not wholly lost of old When o'er earth the deluge rolled ! Ask no more : the abyss is deeper E'en than angels' thoughts may scan. Come, and watch the Heavenly Sleeper ; Come, and do what mortals can, — Reverence meet toward Him to prove, Faith and trust and humble love. Far away, amidst the regions Of the bright and balmy East, Guarded by angelic legions Till death's slumber shall have ceased, (How should we its stillness stir?) Lies the Saviour's sepulchre. Far away ; yet thought would wander (Thought by faith's sure guidance led) Farther yet, to weep and ponder Over that sepulchral bed. Thither let us haste, and flee On the wings of fantasy. Haste, from every clime and nation, Fervent youth and reverent age, Peasant, prince, — each rank and station,— Haste, and join this pilgrimage. All IS O'ER: THE PAIN, THE SORROW. \ I LSt and west, and south and north, Send your saintliest spirits forth. Mothers, ere the curtain clos Round your children's sleep to-night, Tell them how their Lord repos Waiting for to-morrow's light; Teach their dreams to Him to rove, — Him who loved them, Him they love. Matron grave, and blooming maiden, Hoary sage, and beardless boy, Hearts with grief and care o'erladen, Hearts brimful of hope and joy, Come, and greet in death's dark hall Him who felt with, felt for all. Men of God, devoutly toiling This world's fetters to unbind, — Satan of his prey despoiling In the hearts of human kind, — Let to-night your labors cease ; Give your careworn spirits peace. Ye who roam our seas and mountains, Messengers of love and light ; Ye who guard Truth's sacred fountains. Weary day and wakeful night ; 24O ALL LS O'ER; TLLE rAIX, THE SORROW. Men of labor, men of lore, — Give your toils and studies o'er. Dwellers in the woods and valleys ; Ye of meek and lowly breast ; Ye who, pent in crowded alleys, Labor early, late take rest, — Leave the plough, and leave the loom ; Meet us at our Saviour's tomb. From your halls of stately beauty, Sculptured roof and marble floor, In this work of Christian duty Haste, ye rich, and join, ye poor : Mean and noble, bond and free, Meet in frank equality. Lo, His grave ! — the gray rock closes O'er that virgin burial-ground : Near it breathe the garden-roses ; Trees funereal droop around, In whose boughs the small birds rest, And the stock-dove builds her nest. And the morn with floods of splendor Fills the spicy midnight air ; Tranquil sounds, and voices tender, Speak of light and gladness there : ALL IS O'ER; THE PAIN % THE SORROW. 241 Ne'er was living thing, I wot, Which our Lord regarded not Bird, and beast, and insect rover, E'en the lilies of the field, Till His gentle life was over, Heavenly thought to Him could yield : All that is, to Him did prove Food for wisdom, food for love. But the hearts that bowed before Him Most of all to Him were dear : Let such hearts to-night watch o'er Him Till the dayspring shall appear ; Then a brighter sun shall rise Than e'er kindled up the skies. All night long, with plaintive voicing, Chant His requiem soft and low ; Loftier strains of loud rejoicing From to-morrow's harps shall flow : — " Death and hell at length are slain ; Christ hath triumphed, Christ doth reign." 242 'TWAS NIGHT! STILL NIGHT! 'Etoas Ntjjfjt! Still Nigtjt! By John Henry Newman, D.D., born in London in 1801; gradu- ated at Oxford in 1820; tutor of his college for several years; incumbent of St. Mary's, Oxford, in 1828. He shared with Dr. Pusey the leader- ship of the High-Church party, and established a monastic community at Littlemore in 1842. He was the author of some of the most vigorous of the " Tracts for the Times," and exerted a powerful influence over the young men at Oxford. In October, 1845, he left the Established Church for the Roman-Catholic communion. From 1854 to 1858 he was Rector of the Roman-Catholic University in Dublin. He has written consider- able prose on ecclesiastical and controversial subjects, and one or two volumes of verse. IWAS night ! still night ! A solemn silence hung upon the scene ; The keen bright stars shone with unclouded light, Calm and serene. Hushed was the Tomb ; The heavy stone before its entrance lay : No light broke in upon its silent gloom, No starry ray. The moonlight beamed ; It hung above that garden soft and clear : Around the watchful guard its radiance gleamed From helm and spear. 'TWAS NIGHTl STILL NIGHT*. 243 The Tomb was scaled : The watch patrolled before its entrance lone ; The bright night every passing step revealed ; None neared the stone. Midnight had passed ; The stars their lustrous shining had decreased, And daybreak's earliest light was hastening fast In the pale east. The morning star, Last in the silent Heaven, withdrew its ray ; And the white dawn, spreading its spectre light, Foretold the day. An earthquake's shock Just at the break of morning shook the ground, And echoed from that rent and trembling- rock With startling sound. The guards, amazed, Fell to the earth in wonder and affright ; And round the astonished spot in glory blazed A sudden Light. 244 'TWAS NIGHT! STILL NIGHT! An Angel there Descended from the tranquil sky : The glory of his presence filled the air Ail-radiantly. He rolled away From the still Sepulchre the massy stone ; And, watching silent till the risen day, He sat thereon. His garments white Shone like the snow in its unsullied sheen ; His face was like the lightning's gleaming light, Dazzlingly seen. All, all around Was silence and suspense and listening dread : The stirless watch lay prostrate on the ground, Hushed as the dead. At break of day The Saviour burst that Cavern's stillness deep, Rising in conquest from Death's shattered sway As from a sleep. /A///., DAY 01 JOYOUS REST! 245 I [e rose in Tower, In all the Strength of Godhead shining bright, Fresh as that hallowed Morning's dewy hour, Pure as its light He n>sc as God, Rose as a mighty Victor strong to save, Breaking Death's silent chain and unseen rod There in the Grave. He rose on high, While Angels hung around on soaring wing, Wresting from the dark Grave its victory, From Death its sting. 5?atl, Bau of Soootts ftcst ! By Henry Trend. P.P., born at Pevonport Sept. T4, 1804; edu- cated at Bristol and at the University of Giessen; for many years princi- pal of a grammar-school at Bridge water; Curate of Cannington, and subsequently Minister of the Donative of Durleigh. The latter appoint- ment he held as late as 1869. He is the author of some rather free but very happy translations of old Latin hymns, and of some original hymns, contributed to Mr. Shipley's " Lyrae," the " People's Hymnal," ice. The following i> from the " Lyra Messianica." ill AIL, day of joyous rest, On which our Lord arose ! Now every Christian breath With sacred pleasure glows ; 246 HAIL, DAY OF JOYOUS REST! And every Christian tongue should sing An Easter-song to Sion's King. Ah ! erst, on midnight ground, In sorrow He was found Bedewed with His own Blood, While crying unto God : Strange was that bitter agony He felt in thee, Gethsemane ! And on the mystic Cross He suffered wondrous loss ; Midst pain and foul disgrace His Father hid His face ; And earth and hell were active then To crush the Friend of friendless men. He died ; and Joseph's tomb Gave the predicted room To bury Him ; and there With stern and jealous care, To make it sure, they sealed the stone, And left Him with their guards alone. But all their craft and power Availed them not that hour : The appointed time was come, And forthwith from the tomb ARISE, MY SOUL, ARISE! 247 He rose ; for, lo ! the astonished rock Was shivered as by earthquake-shock. Jesus left the grave, And took His life again ; And now He lives to save The dying sons of men : Let His triumphant praise be sung Through every land, by every tongue. &rtsc, mu Soul, arise! By M^. Sarah Flower Adams, who was born in Cambridge Feb. S ; and died Aug. 13, 1849. She was the daughter of an editor, and the wife of William Bridges Adams, an eminent engineer, and contributor to journals and reviews. She contributed prose and poetry to the periodi- cals, and published a dramatic poem, but is most widely known by her hymns, and particularly by that one beginning, " Nearer, my God, to Thee," which has become the property of the Church universal 1RISE, My soul, arise ! Sing, with thy latest breath, Christ's conquest over death. Arise, My soul, arise ! Sing it unto the skies ; Sing it over the earth, and under ; 248 ARISE, MY SOUL, ARISE I There, 'mongst the myriad graves Of kings or slaves, Let the song pierce their urns asunder. Arise, Our souls, arise ! In heaven the angel-band Stand ready, — in each hand A palm to wave ; On earth a listening throng Wait the redeeming song, Their souls to save ; Below, all silently, The dead attend the cry : O grave ! Where is thy victory ? The branches wave ; Our Lord hath risen on high ! O death ! Where is thy sting ? The dust beneath Stirs while we sing. O grave ! where is thy victory ? O death ! where is thy sting ! Arise, Our souls, arise ! 710 HIM WHO FOR OCR SINS WAS SLA IX. 241 ) ^ or a ^ His dying pain, K r^FrfH Sins: we Alleluia! To Him the Lamb our Sacrifice, Who gave His blood our ransom-price, Sing we Alleluia ! To Him who died that we might die To sin, and live with Him on high, Sing w r e Alleluia ! To Him who rose that we might rise, And reign with Him beyond the skies, Sing we Alleluia ! To Him who now for us doth plead, And helpeth us in all our need, Sint"> orders in 1835; head master of Harrow School in 1836; Canon of West- minster Abbey in 1844; Vicar of Stanford-in-the-Vale, Berks, in 1850; Archdeacon of Westminster in 1865; Bishop of Lincoln in 1868. He has written much in prose, and has published a volume of hymns, entitled " Holy Vc.ir," from which the following is taken. He is a nephew of William Wordsworth. |N Thy glorious Resurrection, Lord, we see a world's erection ; Man in Thee is glorified : Bliss for which the Patriarchs panted, Joys by ancient sages chanted, Now in Thee are verified. Oracles of former ages, Veiled in dim prophetic pages, Now lie open to the sight ; 252 IN THY GLORIOUS RESURRECTION. Now the Types, which glimmered darkling In the twilight gloom, are sparkling In the blaze of noonday light. Isaac from the wood is risen ; Joseph issues from the prison ; See the Paschal Lamb which saves ; Israel through the sea is landed ; Pharaoh and his hosts are stranded, And o'erwhelmed in the waves. See the cloudy Pillar leading, Rock refreshing, Manna feeding ; Joshua fights, and Moses prays : See the lifted wave-sheaf, cheering, — Pledge of Harvest-fruits appearing, Joyful dawn of happy days. Samson see at night uptearing Gaza's brazen gates, and bearing To the top of Hebron's hill ; Jonah comes from stormy surges, From his three-days' grave emerges, Bids beware of coming ill. Thus Thy Resurrection glory Sheds a light on ancient story ; And it casts a forward ray, — IN THY GLORIOl/S RESURRECTION. on-light of solemn warning, To the dawn of that great morning, Ushering in the Judgment-Day. Ever since Thy death and rising, Thou the nations art baptizing In Thy death's similitude: Dead to sin, and ever dying, And our members mortifying, May we walk with life renewed ! Forth from Thy first Easter going, Sundays are forever flowing Onward to a boundless sea : Lord, may they for Thee prepare us, On a holy river bear us To a calm eternity ! Glory be to God the Father ; And to Him who all does gather In Himself, the Eternal Son, And the dead to life upraises ; And to Holy Ghost be praises : Glory to the Three in One ! 254 THE TOMB IS EMPTY. &f)e &omb is lEmptg : tooutost tfjou fjafoe it JTull? By Horatius Bonar, D.D., born at Edinburgh in 1808. He gradu- ated at the University of Edinburgh, and was ordained to the ministry in 1837, an d since that time has been pastor at Kelso. He joined the Free Church of Scotland in 1843. He is the author of numerous prose works of a devotional character, and of three series of " Hymns of Faith and Hope." jjHE tomb is empty : wouldst thou have it full, Still sadly clasping the unbreathing clay ? O weak in faith, O slow of heart, and dull, To dote on darkness, and shut out the day ! The tomb is empty : He who three short days, After a sorrowing life's long weariness, Found refuge in this rocky resting-place, Has now ascended to the throne of bliss. Here lay the Holy One, the Christ of God ; He who for death gave death, and life for life ; Our heavenly Kinsman, our true flesh and blood ; Victor for us on hell's dark field of strife. THE TOMB is EMPTY. This was the Bethel, where, on stony bed, While angels came and went from morn till even, Our truer Jacob laid his wearied head : This was to him the very gate of heaven. The Conqueror, not the conquered, He to whom The keys of death and of the grave belong, Crossed the cold threshold of the stranger's tomb, To spoil the spoiler, and to bind the strong. Here Death had reigned : into no tomb like this Had man's fell foe aforetime found his way ; So grand a trophy ne'er before was his, So vast a treasure, so divine a prey. But no : his triumph ends ; the rock-barred door Is opened wide, and the Great Prisoner gone : Look round and see, upon the vacant floor, The napkin and the grave-clothes lie alone. Yes: Death's last hope, his strongest fort and prison, Is shattered, never to be built again ; 256 THE TOMB IS EMPTY. And He, the mighty Captive, He is risen, Leaving behind the gate, the bar, the chain. Yes, He is risen who is the First and Last ; Who was and is ; who liveth, and was dead : Beyond the reach of death He now has passed, Of the one glorious Church the glorious Head. The tomb is empty : so, ere long, shall be The tombs of all who in this Christ repose : They died with Him who died upon the tree ; They live and rise with Him w r ho lived and rose. Death has not slain them ; they are freed, not slain ; It is the gate of life, and not of death, That they have entered ; and the grave in vain Has tried to stifle the immortal breath. All that was death in them is now dissolved ; For death can only what is death's destroy ; And, when this earth's short ages have re- volved, The disimprisoned life comes forth with joy. Their life-long battle with disease and pain And mortal weariness is over now : THE CALM 0/ BLESSED NIGHT. Youth, health, and comeliness return again ; The tear has left the cheek, the sweat the brow. They are not tasting death, but taking rest On the same holy couch where Jesus lay, Soon to awake all glorified and blest, When day has broke, and shadows tied away. Z\\z Claim of ilrssrti Xtgfjt By Henry Ai.ford. D.D., late Dean of Canterbury, who was born in London in 1S10, and died Jan. 12. 1S71. He graduated at Trinity Col- lege, Cambridge, and won a high reputation as a sound and eloquent preacher, and a biblical critic. He was appointed Dean of Canterbury in 1S57. He published several volumes of sermons, a volume of on the Greek Poets, and two volumes of poetry. He edited a hymnal called "The Year of Praise," to which he contributed fifty-five hymns. The great work of his life was the Greek Testament, with Notes, and the New Testament for English Readers, — which are among the most valua- ble products of biblical scholarship. HE calm of blessed Xight Is on Judaea's hills ; The full-orbed moon with cloudless light Is sparkling on their rills : One spot above the rest Is still and tranquil seen, — 258 THE CALM OF BLESSED NLGHT. The chamber as of something blest Amidst its bowers of green. Around that spot each way The figures ye may trace Of men-at-arms in grim array, Girding the solemn place : But other bands are there ; And, glistening through the gloom, Legions of angels, bright and fair, Throng to that wondrous tomb. " Praise be to God on high ! The triumph-hour is near ; The Lord hath won the victory ; The foe is vanquished here ! Dark Grave, yield up the dead ! Give up thy prey, thou Earth ! In death He bowed His sacred head ; He springs anew to birth ! Sharp was the wreath of thorns Around His suffering brow ; But glory rich His head adorns, And Angels crown Him now. Roll yonder rock away That bars the marble gate, And gather we in bright array To swell the Victor's state. CHRIST is RISENl ALLELUIA I 2$() Hail, hail, hail I The Lord is risen indeed ! The curse is made of none avail : The sons of men are freed ! " Christ is risen! alleluia! By John S. B. MONSBLL, born at Derry in 1811. His father was Archdeacon of Derry, and Precentor of Christ-Church Cathedral. The iluatcd at Trinity College, Dublin, in 1832; was ordained deacon in 1834, and priest in the year following. He was for a time Rector of Ramoan, and Chancellor of the diocese of Connor; but since 1853 has been Vicar of Egham. He has written much in prose and verse; and his " Hymns of Love and Praise for the Christian Year," from which the following is taken, are deservedly popular. [HRIST is risen! Alleluia! Risen our victorious Head ! Sing His praises ! Alleluia ! Christ is risen from the dead ! Gratefully our hearts adore Him, As His light once more appears, Bowing down in joy before Him, Rising up from grief and tears. Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! Risen our victorious Head ! Sing his praises ! Alleluia ! Christ is risen from the dead ! 260 CHRIST IS RISEN! ALLELUIA! Christ is risen ! all the sadness Of our Lenten fast is o'er ; Through the open gates of gladness He returns to life once more : Death and hell before Him bending, He doth rise the victor now, Angels on His steps attending, Glory round His wounded brow. Christ is risen ! Alleluia! Christ is risen ! all the sorrow That -last evening round Him lay Now hath found a glorious morrow In the rising of to-day ; And the grave its first-fruits giveth, Springing up from holy ground : He was dead, but now He liveth ; He was lost, but He is found. Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! Christ is risen ! henceforth never Death or hell shall us inthrall ; Be we Christ's, in Him forever We have triumphed over all ; All the doubting and dejection Of our trembling hearts have ceased Tis His day of resurrection ; Let us rise, and keep the feast. AWAKE, GLAD SOUL t 26l Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! Risen our victorious I lead ! Sing His praises! Alleluia! Christ is risen from the dead ! Stoafcr, Glatj Sotill atnafte I afoakc By Rev. J-:: >ell. — See note to the preceding hymn. From his " Hymns of Love and Praise." |WAKE, glad soul! awake! awake! Thy Lord hath risen long : Go to His grave, and with thee take Both tuneful heart and song : Where life is waking all around, Where love's sweet voices sincr, The first bright Blossom may be found Of an Eternal Spring. O Love which lightens all distress, Love death cannot destroy ! O Grave, whose very emptiness To Faith is full of joy ! Let but that Love our hearts supply From Heaven's exhaustless Spring, Then, Grave, where is thy victory ? And, Death, where is thy stii 262 AWAKE, GLAD SOUL! The shade and gloom of life are fled This Resurrection-day ; Henceforth in Christ are no more dead, The grave hath no more prey : In Christ we live, in Christ we sleep, In Christ we wake and rise ; And the sad tears death makes us weep He wipes from all our eyes. And every bird and every tree, And every opening flower, Proclaim His glorious victory, His resurrection-power : The folds are glad ; the fields rejoice, With vernal verdure spread ; The little hills lift up their voice, And shout that Death is dead. Then wake, glad heart ! awake ! awake ! And seek thy risen Lord, Joy in His resurrection take, And comfort in His word : And let thy life, through all its ways, One long thanksgiving be ; Its theme of joy, its song of praise, — " Christ died and rose for me." ALL HAIL '. DEAR EROR 263 311 liatl ! Dear (Conqueror ! all Ijatl By Frederick William Faber, I).I>., bom June 28, II' was the author of some of the DOOSt fervent and ful hymns in the lang graduated at Oxford in 1 - fellow. He n I priest ,. In 1843 he becai Elton, in Huntingdonshire; and two years later, after a lon_ r mental struggle, lie joined the Roman-Catho- lic Church. In 1849 he established the Brotherhood of the London " Oratorians; " which was removed in 1854 to Brompton, at whiei. Faber resided until his death. The li.^t of his works includes sever. d books in prose, of a devotional order, sermons, etc., and five vol.: poetry, mosdy religious. There is an American edition of his hymns, collected from these volumes. LL hail ! dear Conqueror ! all hail ! Oh, what a victory is Thine ! How beautiful Thy Strength appears ! Thy crimson Wounds, how bright they shine ! Down, down, all lofty things on earth, And worship Him with joyous dread ! O Sin ! thou art outdone by love ! O Death ! thou art discomfited ! Ye Heavens, how sang they in your courts, How sang the angelic choir that day, When from His tomb the imprisoned God, Like the strong sunrise, broke away ? 264 JESUS! IN SPICES WRAPPED. Oh ! I am burning so with love, I fear lest I should make too free : Let me be silent, and adore Thy glorified Humanity. Ah ! now Thou sendest me sweet tears : Fluttered with love, my spirits fail. What shall I say ? Thou knowest my heart. All hail! dear Conqueror! all hail ! Srstts! in Spiers forapprt, anlr latlr. By Frederick William Faber, D.D. — See note to the preceding hymn. The following is from the poem on " The Life of Our Lord," being a portion of the fifth section, which relates " what was done after His death, burial, resurrection, ascension, session, and second advent." j|ESUS ! in spices wrapped, and laid Within the garden's rocky shade, By jealous seals made sure, Embalm me with Thy grace, and hide Thy servant in Thy wounded Side, A heavenly sepulture ! Jesus ! who to the spirits went And preached the new enfranchisement Thy recent death had won, JESUS I IN SPICES WRAPPED. 265 Absolve me, Lord! and set me £1 From self and sin, that I may be Bondsman to Thee alone. Jesus ! who from the dead arose, And straightway sought to comfort those Whose weak faith mourned for Thee, Oh, may I rise from sin and earth, And so make good that second birth Which Thou hast wrought in me ! Jesus ! who wert at Emmaus known In breaking bread, and thus art shown Unto Thy people now, Oh, may my heart within me burn When at the Altar I discern Thy Body, Lord, and bow ! Jesus ! amid yon olives hoar, Thy forty days of sojourn o'er, Thou didst ascend on high : Oh, thither may my heart and mind Ascend, their home and harbor find, With Jesus in the sky ! 266 SABBATH OF THE SAINTS OF OLD- Saboatfj of tfje Saints of ©to. By Rev. Thomas Whytehead, born at Thorraanby, York, in 1815; died in New Zealand in 1842. He graduated at Cambridge, and among his university honors was the chancellor's medal for English verse. He was appointed chaplain to the Bishop of New Zealand, but died soon after reaching his post. The following hymn is abridged and altered by the compilers of " Hymns Ancient and Modern." The complete hymn as given below is contained in Mrs. Alexander's " Sunday Book of Poetry/' f ABBATH of the saints of old, Day of mysteries manifold, By the great Creator blest, Type of His eternal rest, I with thoughts of thee would seek To sanctify the closing week. Resting from His work, the Lord Spake to-day the hallowing word ; And, His wondrous labors done, Now the everlasting Son Gave to heaven and earth the sign Of a wonder more divine. Resting from His work to-day, In the tomb the Saviour lav ; 3ATH OF THE SAINTS OF OLD. 2C)J His sacred form, from head to feet, Swathed in the winding-sheet, Lying in the rock alone, Hid beneath the sealed stone. All the seventh day long, I ween, Mournful watched the Magdalene, Rising early, resting late, By the sepulchre to wait, In the holy garden glade, Where her buried Lord was laid. So with Thee, till life shall end, I would solemn vigil spend : Let me hew Thee, Lord, a shrine In this rocky heart of mine, Where, in pure embalmed cell, None but Thou mayst ever dwell. Myrrh and spiees I will bring, My poor affection's offering, Close the door from sight and sound Of the busy world around, And in patient watch remain Till my Lord appear again. Then, the new creation done, Shall be Thy endless rest begun : 268 WHAT SAID HE, MARY, UNTO THEE? Jesu, keep me safe from sin, That I with them may enter in, And danger past, and toil at end, To Thy resting-place ascend. "GEijat sat* p?e, flarg, unto t\)ttV 9 By Dora Greenwell, who was born early in the present century. She is the author of several volumes of verse, among them " Christina and Other Poems," " Stories That Might be True," and " Carmina Crucis," from the last of which the following is taken. She has written also one or two books of essays. HAT said He, Mary, unto thee ? % For it was thine His voice to hear, When thou wert waiting in the gloom Of twilight dawn, and by the tomb : He talked with thee when none were near. Oh, happy thus thy Lord to see ! What said He, Mary, unto thee?" " Few words He said to me : I hide Each word He said within my heart. Fain had I won Him to abide ; Yet soon I knew that I must part With Him, my Master, Lord, and Guide. I met His eye ; His voice I heard ; I saw His wounded hands and feet : WHAT SAID IU\ MARY X UNTO TH He called me by my name; no word Was ever to my soul so sweet ; And by His tomb He hade me stay Until the breaking of the day ' " " But see, the hills are all aglow ! The sunrise cleaves its path of gold Through many a darkened valley low, And tires the mountain summits cold. What Mowers unclose! what herbs of price! What costly gums for sacrifice Are dropping now ! " — 4t The hills are high : I cannot reach them, lest I die ; And by His cross He bade me dwell Until the evening shadows fell." "Yet rise ; thy Lord hath risen ! Behold, From Hades now He bears away The gates, and snatches from the hold Of death and sin a mighty prey : His soul hath passed afar ! to Him The darkness shines as doth the day. Why linger 'mid the shadows dim ? Why watch the place where Jesus lay ? " side His tomb, beside His cross, lie bade me rest ! Ye speak in vain, Who have not known my gain nor loss. The .Master's words are kind and plain : 270 WHAT SAID HE, MARY, UNTO THEE? He calls the wounded not to pain, The weary unto conflict sore ; He bids the wayworn not again Retrace their fruitless wanderings o'er. He led me to this place ! He knew My soul upon the burning plain Where riseth from the earth no dew, Where falleth from the heavens no rain ; He tracked my steps 'mid forests old And tangled, where the flowers awake In torrid midnight gloom, and hold Death's revel in the jungle-brake ; Yea ! He hath known my soul in cold, The deadly frost that none can bide ; The formless vapors, white and dim, Became my shroud, and yet from Him Concealed me not ! Whate'er betide, I clasp the cross ! The earth is wide And drear and old ; the heavens are far ! For guide to me He gave no star; But near His cross He bade me stay Until the shadows fled away. "To me He said not, 'Thou shalt rise With Me, thy risen Lord, this day, And be with Me in Paradise : ' Beside the cross He bade me stay. He met me in the garden's gloom ; THE FOE BEHIND, THE DEEP BBFORl I Hut to that garden sweet and dim, ( )r through its angel-guarded gate, He sent me not I wait for Him Beside His cross, beside His tomb; I wait for Him, my soul doth wait, And by the cross I will abide, And keep the word my Lord hath given. Except the cross, and Him who died Upon it, now in earth or heaven What own I, claim I ? Now below I seek no further ; here is woe Assuaged forever: now above I look no longer ; here is love !" Z\)z jfoc bcijtntr, tfje Deep before* By John Mason Xeale, D.D., born in 1818; graduated at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1840; died Aug. 8, i860. He was early elected warden of Sackville College, and retained that position to the date of his death. He was the author of several important historical works; of three or four books of fiction, now forgotten; of some original hymns, of which the following is the most noteworthy ; and of some beautiful translations from the mediaeval Latin, and the Greek, which are perhaps the richest legacy to the Christian Church that any translator has left. The " Lyra Britannica " contains the following hymn, with six additional stanzas; but, as these are greatly inferior to the portion here given, it has seemed best to present the hymn in its usual form. [HE foe behind, the deep before, Our hosts have dared and passed the sea; 2J 2 THE FOE BEHIND, THE DEEP BEFORE. And Pharaoh's warriors strew the shore, And Israel's ransomed tribes are free. Lift up, lift up your voices now ! The whole wide world rejoices now ! The Lord hath triumphed gloriously ! The Lord shall reign victoriously ! Happy morrow, Turning sorrow Into peace and mirth ! Bondage ending, Love descending O'er the earth ! Seals assuring, Guards securing, Watch His earthly prison : Seals are shattered, Guards are scattered, Christ hath risen ! No longer must the mourners weep, Nor call departed Christians dead ; For death is hallowed into sleep, And every grave becomes a bed. Now once more Eden's door Open stands to mortal eyes ; For Christ hath risen, and men shall rise. THE FOE BEHIND, Till-: DEEP BEI Now at last, ( )U1 things | Hope and joy and peace begin ; For Christ hath won, and man shall win. It is not exile, rest on high ; It is not sadness, peace from strife; To fall asleep is not to die ; To dwell with Christ is better life. Where our banner leads us We may safely go ; Where our Chief precedes us We may face the foe. His right arm is o'er us ; He will guide us through. Christ hath gone before us : Christians, follow you! 274 SEE THE LAND, HER EASTER KEEPING. See tije HantJ, Jjcr Easter keeping. By Charles Kingsley, preacher, poet, novelist, and reformer. He was born June 12, 1819, at Holne Vicarage, Devonshire; and died Jan. 23, 1875. He graduated with honor at Cambridge in 1842; was ordained deacon in July of the same year, and was settled at Eversley, in Hamp- shire; which place continued to be his home for the remainder of his life. A sturdy physical nature, an active mind, a strong and buoyant faith, sympathies warm and deep, and an indomitable and fearless hatred of op- pression in every form, made him a power for good wherever his voice was heard, or his writings read. To him, popularity was of less account than principle; and, both in his novels and his poetry, artistic effect was often sacrificed to the vehemence and passion with which he championed the cause of the weak against the strong. ]EE the land, her Easter keeping, Rises as her Maker rose ; Seeds so long in darkness sleeping Burst at last from winter snows. Earth with heaven above rejoices; Fields and gardens hail the spring ; Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices, While the wild birds build and sing. You, to whom your Maker granted Powers to those sweet birds unknown, Use the craft by God implanted, — Use the reason not your own. Here, while heaven and earth rejoices, Each his Easter tribute bring, — Work of fingers, chant of voices, Like the birds who build and sing. HE IS RISEN I HE IS RISEN! $?r is risen ! H?r is risen ! By Mrs I '-v. William rader, now Bishop o( Dcrry. She is the daughter <>f Major Hump 1 • Strabane, Ireland; and was married in 1S50. She has published leveral >f hymns, and one admirable collection called " The Sunday !'.< x>k o( Poetry." The poem entitled " The Burial of Moses " is the most famil- iar of her pieces. He* husband, also, has written several volumes of prose and poetry. I E is risen ! He is risen ! Tell it with a joyful voice : He has burst His three-days' prison : Let the whole wide earth rejoice ! Death is vanquished, man is free ; Christ has won the victory ! Tell it to the sinners, weeping Over deeds in darkness done, Weary fast and vigil keeping : Brightly breaks their Easter sun. Christ has borne our sins away ; Christ has conquered hell to-day. He is risen ! He is risen ! He has oped the eternal gate : We are loosed from sin's dark prison, Risen to a holier state, Where a brightening Easter beam On our longing eve shall stream. 276 PAIN AND TOIL ARE OVER NOW. Pain anti Eoil are ooer ttofo. By Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander. — See note to the preceding hymn. The following version — abridged, and somewhat altered from the original — is included in the Episcopal Hymnal. The original has six six-line verses, and may be found in Mrs. Alexander's " Verses for Holy Seasons." ||AIN and toil are over now : Bring the spice, and bring the myrrh, Fold the limb, and bind the brow, In the rich man's sepulchre. Sin has bruised the Victor's heel : Roll the stone, and guard it well ; Bring the Roman's boasted seal, Bring his boldest sentinel. Yet the morning's purple ray Shall present a glorious sight, — Stone by earthquake rolled away, Angel guard all robed in white. is;^ IT is THE NOON OF NIGHT. i~~ It is tin- Noon of Nlflfjt By MSssJban Iw blow, who was born in Boston, England,* in 1830, and is n«>w living in London. Her life was quiet and uneventful until Alien she published a volume of poems, which attr a cte d instant attention by the sweetness ami beauty ^\ its contents, and won for its author a place anion- the foremost contemporary singers. Since that time she has published two or three volumes of poetry, several bo children, and two novels. She exhibits in her life the tenderness, gentle- ness, and charity which find expression in her verse, and is widely and justly beloved. The following verses are a part o( a long poem on the Night of Christ's Resurrection, which the author wrote " in humble imita- tion " of Milton's majestic Hymn on the Nativity. jjT is the noon of night ; And, the world's Great Light Gone out, she widow-like doth carry her : The moon hath veiled her face, Nor looks on that dread place Where He lieth dead in sealed sepulchre ; And Heaven and Hades, emptied, lend Their flocking multitudes to watch and wait the end. Tier above tier they rise ; Their wings new line the skies, And shed out comforting light among the stars : 278 IT IS THE NOON OF NIGHT. But they of the other place The heavenly signs deface ; The gloomy brand of hell their brightness mars : Yet high they sit, in throned state : It is the hour of darkness to them dedicate. Last, with amazed cry, The hosts asunder fly, Leaving an empty gulf of blackest hue ; Whence straightway shooteth down, By the Great Father thrown, A mighty angel, strong and dread to view ; And at his fall the rocks are rent, The waiting world cloth quake with mortal tremblement ; The regions far and near Quail, with a pause of fear More terrible than aught since time began ; The winds, that dare not fleet, Drop at his aw r ful feet, And in its bed wails the wide ocean ; The flower of dawn forbears to blow, And the oldest running river cannot skill to flow. At stand, by that dread place, He lifts his radiant face, IT is THE N< VIGHT. 279 And looks to heaven with reverent love and fear ; Then, while the welkin qnuk And muttering thunder breaks, .And lightnings shoot, and ominous meteors drear, And all the daunted earth doth moan, He from the doors of death rolls baek the sealed stone. — In regal quiet deep, Lo ! One new waked from sleep ! Behold, He standeth in the rock-hewn door! Thy children shall not die ; Peace, peace ! thy Lord is by ! He liveth ! they shall live forevermore. Peace ! Lo ! He lifts a priestly hand, And blesseth all the sons of men in every land ! Then, with great dread and wail, Fall down, like storms of hail, The legions of the lost, in fearful wise ; And they whose blissful race Peoples the better place Lift up their Wings to cover their fair eyes, And through the waxing saffron brede, Till they are lost in light, recede, and yet recede. 280 IT IS THE NOON OF NIGHT So, while the fields are dim, And the red sun his rim First heaves, in token of his reign benign, All stars the most admired, Into their blue retired, Lie hid ; the faded moon forgets to shine ; And, hurrying down the sphery way, Night flies, and sweeps her shadow from the paths of Day. But look ! the Saviour blest, Calm after solemn rest, Stands in the garden, 'neath His olive- boughs ; The earliest smile of day Doth on His vesture play, And light the majesty of His still brows ; While angels hang, with wings outspread, Holding the new-won crown above His saintly head. / HAVE NO If'//: NO WORDS, NO Tl £ liatoc no JHit, no HHortis, no taken, was first published in 1850; and many editions of it have been printed in I and America. Her hymns are deeply imbued with the spirit of Christianity, and are rich in thought and ;'■ [EAR Saviour of a dying world, Where grief and change must be, In the new grave where Thou wast laid My heart lies down with Thee ; Oh ! not in cold despair of joy, Or weariness of pain, But from a hope that shall not die, To rise and live again. I would arise in all Thy strength, My place on earth to fill, To work out all my time of war With love's unflinching will ; Firm against every doubt of Thee, For all my future way To walk in Heaven's eternal light Throughout the changing day ; 286 DEAR SAVIOUR OF A DYING WORLD. Ah ! such a day as Thou shalt own When suns have ceased to shine, — A day of burdens borne by Thee, And work that all was Thine. Speed Thy bright rising in my heart, Thy righteous kingdom speed, Till my whole life in concord say, — "The Lord is risen indeed ! " Oh for an impulse from Thy love With every coming breath, To sing that sweet, undying song Amid the wrecks of death ! A " hail ! " to every mortal pang That bids me take my right To glory in the blessed life Which Thou hast brought to light ! I long to see the hallowed earth In new creation rise ; To find the germs of Eden, hid Where its fallen beauty lies ; To feel the spring-tide of a soul By one deep love set free, Made meet to lay aside her dust, And be at home with Thee. DEAR SAVIOUR OF A DYING WORLD. 287 And then there shall be yet an end, — An end how full to bles How dear to those who watch tor Thee With human tendera Then shall the saying come to pass That makes our home complete ; And, rising from the conquered grave, Thy parted ones shall meet. Yes, they shall meet, and, face to face. By heart to heart be known ; Clothed in Thy likeness, Lord of life, And perfect in their own. For this corruptible must rise, From its corruption free, And this frail mortal must put on Thine immortality. Shine, then, Thou Resurrection Light ! Upon our sorrows shine ! The fulness of Thy joy be ours, As all our griefs were Thine. Now, in this changing, dying life, Our faded hopes restore, Till, in Thy triumph perfected, We taste of death no more. 288 THEY BOUXD HIM WELL. Cfyco ijounfc $tm focll in tijc Qungcon Cell. An Easter carol, by Richard Frederic Littledale, D.C.L. — See the biographical notice prefixed to the hymn, " Our Paschal Joy at last is here." HEY bound him well in the dungeon cell, — His father's best-loved son ; And the iron dole into Joseph's soul Its bitter way hath won : But faith and truth have gained him ruth, And loosed the tyrant's chain ; And the exile lone to Egypt's throne From prison comes to reign. The Son of the Father, Almighty to save, Was laid for three days in the heart of the grave ; But the fetters which held Him no longer may bind, And He reigneth to-day over ransomed man- kind. He laid him clown in Gaza town, — The forceful Xazarite ; And the heathen guard kept watch and ward To slay him at morning light ; THEY BOUND HIM WELL, 2X9 But at midnight he rose from the midst of his ; No longer would he stay ; And to Hebron's hill, of his own Strong will, He carried their gates away. The Nazarene Captive, Whom Hell had in- snared, Around Whom the hosts of the I Ail One glared, Hath gone from among them in conquering state, And broken in pieces their bars and their gate. Oh ! now His rolling chariot-wheels Lead bound captivity ; And, where His Presence He reveals, His people bow the knee. He takes to Him a priestly Bride ; And He Himself is glorified, And clad in white and gold : He sitteth on the royal seat, And all the nations at His Feet Lay tribute manifold. The riddle erewhile spoken May now be read with ease, — 29O THEY BOUND HIM WELL. The slaughtered lion's token, The honey and the bees. To-day, in full completeness, The mystery stands good ; Since from the Strong comes Sweetness, And from the eater food. Hearken to Him as He comes in His might, Monarch of monarchs, victorious in fight. Speaks He in anger, the sinner to blame? Speaks He in sorrow, the dastard to shame ? With no reproach for blindness He meets His own to-day ; In perfect loving-kindness Thus only will He say : — " The winter-time away is past ; the rain is gone and o'er ; The flowerets bloom again at last ; the birds are heard once more ; And in our land we list afresh the cooing of the dove ; The figs and vines are green and lush : oh, come away, My Love!" AS SPRING'S SWEET BREATH, £s Spring's storct Brcatjj after long KItntru Snoto. j . Bishop of M He A'"*'?- ' nil al Wellington, Somersetshire, March to, 1831 ; received his L*J- /?)** preliminary education at Bath ; graduated at Oxford, B.A., in 185! . MA. 111 1S59; took holy orders, and was appointed Vicar of St. Paul's, >*/ Whitechapel, London, in 1858: Vicar of rloiy Trinity, Maidstone, t86a; Vicar of St. Michael and All Saints. Coventry, 1866; and Bishop of Mada- I70, He edited the Canterbury Hymnal and 44 Lyra and has published several volumes oi prayers, sermons, and religious poetry. Besides the compilations already mentioned, and others of " Eng- lish I.y 3 1 red Poetry," he has published a volume of original poems, " Autumn Memories, and other Vci spring's sweet breath after long wintry snow, As land to voyager o'er pathless sea, As daybreak after weary night of woe, Is Easter joy to me. All Lenten shadows over, and the light Around us and within so sweet and strong ! Teach us, O risen Master, how aright To sing our Easter-song! We stand to-day beside Thy open tomb ; We gaze on "linen clothes" with reverent heed, And hear the angels whispering through the gloom, — " Not here, but risen indeed ! " 292 AS SPRING'S SWEET BREATH. And all the story of Thy love divine Throbs through our hearts, longing, O Christ ! for Thee : The bitter chalice, with the deadly wine, Was drained to set us free. The grave is dark no more : a stream of light Thou, rising, left behind for all Thine own ; Death's chain is broken by Thine arm of might, And rolled away the stone. Now Easter-light flushes the morning sky : Thy form we see, all changed, and yet the same. Master, we kneel before Thee : hear our cry, And call us each by name. 1 When evening shadows lengthen all around, And we to Emmaus take our weary way, With us, O risen Saviour, still be found, And turn our night to day ! And from Thy radiant throne of light above, Oh ! send us, till our desert wanderings cease, Thine own best legacy of tender love, Thy sweetest gift of peace. 1 "Jesus saith unto her, Mary." — John xx. 16. ALU-:/ C//AJ ALLELUIAi *93 Then at the last, when all shall wake who sleep, Made like to Thee in raiment white- and fair, Oh, bid ns welcome to Thy home, to keep One endless Easter there ! ailefoia! alleluia! From the Canterbury Hymnal, edited by Right Rev. Robert Hall BAYN1 See note to the preceding hymn. ALLELUIA! Alleluia! Hearts to heaven, and voices, raise ; Sing to God a hymn of gladness, Sing to God a hymn of praise. He who on the cross a Victim For the world's salvation bled, Jesus Christ, the King of Glory, Xow is risen from the dead. Xow the iron bars arc broken ; Christ from death to life is born, Glorious life, and life immortal, On this holy Easter-morn. Christ hath triumphed, and we conquer By His mighty enterprise : 294 ALLELUIA I ALLELUIA I We with Christ to life eternal By His resurrection rise. Christ is risen, — Christ, the first-fruits Of the holy harvest-field, Which will all its full abundance At His second coming yield ; Then the golden ears of harvest Will their heads before Him wave, Ripened by His glorious sunshine, From the furrows of the grave. Christ is risen, we are risen : Shed upon us heavenly grace, Rain and dew, and gleams of glory, From the brightness of Thy face, That we, Lord, with hearts in heaven, Here on earth may fruitful be, And by angel-hands be gathered, And be ever safe with Thee. Alleluia! Alleluia! Glory be to God on high, To the Father, and the Saviour, Who has gained the victory : Glory to the Holy Spirit, Fount of love and sanctity. Alleluia! Alleluia! To the Triune Majesty ! HOT WITH THE FAITHFUL FEW. \ BKe torrr not tottl) tljr JTattI)fitl JTrtn. FfOOO the Canterbury Hymnal. E wore not with the faithful few Who stood Thy bitter cross around, Nor heard Thy prayer for those that slew, Nor felt that earthquake rock the ground ; We saw no spear-wound pierce Thy side : Yet we believe that Thou hast died. No angel's message met our ear On that first glorious Easter-day, — "The Lord is risen ! He is not here : Come, see the place where Jesus lay! " But we believe that Thou didst quell The banded powers of Death and Hell. We saw Thee not return on high ; And now, our longing sight to bless, Xo ray of glory from the sky Shines down upon our wilderness : Vet we believe that Thou art there, And seek Thee, Lord, in praise and prayer. 296 PUT ON THY BEAUTIFUL ROBES. $ut on tlju Beautiful ftours, Brioc of Christ. By William Chatterton Dix ; born at Bristol in 1837, and living (in 1S72) in Glasgow. He has contributed a number of sacred lyrics to periodicals, and is the author of a small volume of poetry. UT on thy beautiful robes, Bride of Christ; For the King shall embrace thee to-day : Break forth into singing ; the morning has dawned, And the shadows of night are away. Shake off the dust from thy feet, Bride of Christ ; For the Conqueror, girded with might, Has vanquished the foe, the dragon cast down, And the cohorts of hell put to flight. Thou art the Bride of His love, His elect : Dry thy tears ; for thy sorrows are past. Lone were the hours when thy Lord was away ; But He comes with the morning at last. rev OX THY BEAUTIFUL ROBES. 297 The winds bear the noise of His chariot- wheels, And the thunders of victory roar : Lift up thy beautiful gates, Bride of Christ ; For the grave has dominion no more. Once they arrayed Him with scorning; but see ! His apparel is glorious now : In His hand are the keys of death and of hell, And the diadem gleams on His brow. Hark ! 'tis her voice : Alleluia she sings, Alleluia ! the captives are free ! Unfolded the gates of Paradise stand, And unfolded forever shall be. Choir answers choir, where the song has no end ; All the saints raise Hosannas on high ; Deep calls unto deep in the ocean of love As the Bride lifts her jubilant cry. 298 CHRIST OUR PASCHAL LAMB. CJjrist is become our ^ascfjal 2Lamo. From Chope's Hymnal. 5HRIST is become our Paschal Lamb, For us condemned to die : Those washed in His Atoning Blood The Avenger passeth by. Hail ! Sacred Victim, by whose death Death hath been overcome ; Who by Thy Burial hast dispersed The darkness of the tomb ! He that was dead now lives again ; The prison-doors are riven : Triumphant o'er our ghostly foe, He opes the gates of Heaven. Oh, grant us, Lord, with Thee to die, With Thee again to rise ; To spurn the things of earth, and seek The treasures of the skies ! FAR BE SORROW, TEARS, AND SIGHING! 2r. Kennedy's " Hymnologu Christiana." \R be sorrow, tears, and sighing! Waves are calming, storms are dying : Moses hath o'erpassed the sea; Israel's captive hosts are free : Life by death slew death, and saved us ; In His blood the Lamb hath laved us, Clothing us with victory. Alleluia ! Hark ! the deep abysses thunder ; Hark ! the chains are snapped in sunder, And the unfettered fathers rise, Soaring toward the opened skies. God and Man, our ransom paying, And in light Himself arraying, Claimeth now the victory. Alleluia! Jesus Christ from death has risen : 'Twas His Godhead burst the prison ; 'Twas His blest Humanity Struggled with our misery : 300 CALM THEY SIT WITH CLOSED DOOR. God's long patience, God's rejection, Brought to pass our resurrection, Brought to pass our victory. Alleluia! This the law the Saviour teaches, This the call the trumpet preaches : — Sinner, from the grave of sin Rise, eternal joy to win. From the death our sins decreed us Jesus Christ by death has freed us : Sing we, then, His victory. Alleluia! (Calm tfjeg sit tottij (Close* Door. From Dr. Kennedy's " Hymnologia Christiana." jALM'they sit with closed door, Shutting out the city's din : Tenant of the tomb no more, See the Saviour enter in ! Spirit-like behold Him glide To each saintly, wondering guest ; Show His pierced hands and side, Breathe His peace in every breast. What though years have rolled away, Since, triumphant from the tomb, AWAKE, THOU WINTRY EARTH! 301 J 5, at the 1 day, Sought that quiet upper room ? Oft, from /ion's heavenly hill, ks He yet His faithful few; Bides with them in spirit still ; Shows eaeli glorious wound anew. Mighty L<»rd, descend, we pray, Where Thy fond disciples meet : Many a Magdalene to-day Fain would her Deliverer greet ; Many a Thomas scarce can dare Own Thee for his God and Lord : Come, and banish doubt and care With Thy true almighty Word. Hfoakr, tfjoit fohrtrg Eartij! Contributed by Thomas Blackburn to Fosbery's " Hymns and Poems for the Sick and Suffering." |WAKE, thou wintry earth ! Fling off thy sadness ! Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth Your ancient gladness : Christ is risen ! 302 GLORY BE TO GOD ON HIGH I Wave, woods, your blossoms all ! Grim death is dead ; Ye weeping, funeral trees, Lift up your head : Christ is risen ! All is fresh and new, Full of spring and light : Wintry heart, why wear'st the hue Of sleep and night ? Christ is risen ! Leave thy cares beneath, Leave thy worldly love : Begin the better life With God above : Christ is risen ! ffilorg fie to ffiotr on Jftflij! By W. B., in " Lyra Messianica." j|LORY be to God on high ! Sang the Angels from the sky, When the Holiest, stooping low, Put on strength against our foe. Ye that hymned the strife begun, Loftier hymn the triumph won : GLORY BE TO GOD ON HIGH I 303 Death lias crouched to Adam's seed, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed! Hail the Mower that ne'er shall fade! Hail the Day the Lord hath made! Bridal morn of earth and heaven, Dawn of joy to Christ's Eleven. Mary, though the word came true, Though the sword hath pierced thee through, Now thy soul no more shall bleed, — Xow thy Son is risen indeed ! Hell hath done its last and worst : Vain the traitor's kiss accurst, Swords and staves and ruffian crew, Priestly vestments rent in two, Blows, and spitting on that face Whence the pure heavens look for grace, Tongues forsworn, and doom decreed, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed ! Vain the hate that watched His woe, Feasting on each wound and throe ; From the sacred Corpse drew Blood ; Made Him sure, as best it could : Hours of grief and waiting past, Comes our own dear Lord at last, Ne'er again to groan or bleed, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed ! 304 GLORY BE TO GOD ON HIGH! Round His feet their snares they laid; For His Soul a pit they made, Wrought it deep, and tracked Him well : Down their own dark gulf they fell ; And their cords, all strong and new, Lo ! like thread He bursts them through ! Hunters caught, and Quarry freed, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed ! So be all Thy foes undone : Shine Thy friends like morning sun, — Shine with light that streams from Thee In Thy Paschal victory. While they see Thee standing near, Darkest times are daylight clear, Sunlit by the Paschal creed, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed ! Chants and chimes of Easter-morn, Praise our God, the Virgin-born, Who, by dying, death o'erthrew. Rose, and won us life anew. Hail ! sweet day that stills all fears, Heals all wounds, and dries all tears ; Mightier yet than bitterest need, — Christ the Lord is risen indeed ! THE GRAVES GROW THICKER. 305 JTIir ffirafctt grofo cTiitckrr, an* life's Klaus more Bare. By. R. K. J. A., in " Lyra My HE graves grow thicker, and life's ways more bare, As years on years go by : Nay, thou hast more green gardens in thy care, And more stars in thy sky ! Behind, hopes turned to griefs, and joys to memories, Are fading out of sight; Before, pains changed to peace, and dreams to certainties, Are glowing in God's Light. Hither come backslidings, defeats, distresses, Vexing this mortal strife ; Thither go progress, victories, successes, Crowning immortal Life. No jubilees, few gladsome, festive hours, Form landmarks for my way ; But Heaven and earth, and Saints and friends and flowers, Are keeping Easter-Day ! 306 A PA THWA Y OPENS FROM THE TOMB. & $atf)foas opens from tije 2Tomo. From " Lyra Anglicana," edited by Rev. George T. Rider, New York, 1865. PATHWAY opens from the tomb; The grave's a grave no more : Stoop down ; look into that sweet room ; Pass through the unsealed door ; Linger a moment by the bed Where lay but yesterday the Church's Head. What is there there to make thee fear ? A folded chamber-vest, Akin to that which thou shalt wear When for thy slumber drest ; Two gentle angels sitting by : How sw r eet a room, methinks, wherein to lie ! No gloomy vault, no charnel-cell, No emblems of decay ; No solemn sound of passing-bell To say, " He's gone away ; " But angel-whispers soft and clear, And He, the risen Jesus, standing near. A PATHWAY OPENS FROM THE TOMB. u Why weepest thou ? Whom seekest thou ? " Tis not the gardener's voice, But His to Whom all knees shall bow, Iu Whom all hearts rejoice, — The voice of Him Who yesterday Within that rock was Death's resistless pre}'. " Why weepest thou ? Whom seekest thou ? The living with the dead ? " Take young spring flowers, and deck thy brow ; For life with joy is wed. The grave is now the grave no more : Why tear to pass that bridal chamber door ? Take flowers, and strew them all around The room where Jesus lay : But softly tread ; 'tis hallowed ground ; And this is Easter-Day. "The Lord is risen," as He said, And thou shalt rise with Him, thy risen Head. 308 DAYS GROW LONGER. Bags (jroto iLonger, Sunbeams Stronger. Miss Chapman, in her collection of Easter Hymns, credits the follow- ing to an English book of Hymns and Carols. AYS grow longer, sunbeams stronger ; Easter-tide makes all things new ; Lent is banished, sadness vanished : Christ hath risen ; rise we too. Christmas greetings, Twelfth-Night meetings, Whitsun sports, are glad and gay ; But the lightest and the brightest Of our feasts is Easter-Day. Earthly story crowns with glory Him Whom earthly foes o'ercame : Victor's laurel ends the quarrel ; Honor dwells about His name. Vanquished legions, conquered regions, Kings deposed, and princes bound ; Exultation, acclamation, Fill His ears, and float around. DAYS GROW LONGER. Then, unending unci transcending Be the glory of the Son ; For transcendent and resplendent Was the victory He hath won. Death hath yielded, life is shielded, Satan bound, and Hell in chains Chased is terror, fled is error; Grief is past, and joy remains. American. WELCOME, DAY! 3 I 3 (LHclcomr, © Day ! in tabling Glory brtcjljt ! By WlLLU >.D., who was born at Pittsfield, Mass., Jan. uated it Harvard University [802; was ordained over the • I Church at Pittsneld, October, 1810; President < ; mouth College 1 017; President gc 1820-39; ■ mpton July 10. 1868. He was the author of several biographical and hisl s, and of a volume of " Christian Sonnets," from which . ing is taken. |ELC< >ME, I ) Day! in dazzling glory bright! Emblem of yet another day most blest, When all Christ's friends with Him in Heaven shall rest ; For on this day, in his recovered might, The Sleeper waked to see this morning's light, — " The Son of God ! " glad angel-hosts attest : So, when alive, most fully shown, contV For on this day He took His Heavenward flight. When, therefore, our glad eyes this morning's sun 314 LIFT YOUR GLAD VOICES. See rising on the earth, we'll lift our thought To Him, who by His death our life hath bought, And, Victor, King, for us a crown hath won. It e'er shall be a day of sweetest joy, Till we shall see our Lord in yonder sky ! ILtft sour ffilali Fotcrg in STriumpfj on »igk By Henry Ware, jun., D.D., born at Hingham, Mass., April 21, 1794; died at Framingham Sept. 25, 1843. He graduated at Harvard University in 1812; and, after teaching for some time at the Exeter Acad- emy, he prepared himself for the ministry under the direction of his father, minister of the Unitarian Church at Hingham; was licensed to preach in 1815; and was ordained over the Second Church, Boston, in 1817. He was appointed a professor in the Cambridge Theological School in 1829, and remained in the active duties of that position until the summer of 1842, when, worn out with arduous work as lecturer, preacher, and writer, he retired to Framingham, and died there in the year following. His collected writings were published after his death. They are mostly of a religious and theological character, and include a considerable number of fine hymns, of which the following is the most familiar. SIFT your glad voices in triumph on high; For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die. Vain were the terrors that gathered around Him, And short the dominion of death and the grave : LIFT YOUR GLAD VOICES. 6*} He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound I lim, Resplendent in glory, to live and to save. Loud was the chorus of angels on high, — "The Saviour hath risen, and man can- not die." Glory to God, in full anthems of joy ! The being He gave us death cannot destroy ! Sad were the life we must part with to- morrow If tears were our birthright, and death were our end ; But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow, And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend. Lift, then, your glad voices in triumph on high ; For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die. 316 ALL PRAISE TO HIM OE NAZARETH. &U praise to &im of Na^aretij. By William Cullen Bryant, born at Cummington, Mass., Nov. 3, 1794; and died June 12, 1878, at New York. He studied for two years at Williams College, and afterward studied and practised law. In 1825 he became editor of " The New- York Review." In 1826 he formed a con- nection with " The New-York Evening Post," and, in the year following, assumed the editorial charge of that journal, — a position which he retained until his death, although in later years the direct control of affairs was in other hands. In his long life he found time for many forms of literary activity, and to the last contributed occasional pieces of verse to the periodicals of the day, and graced public occasions by his presence. His noble and elevating poems, and his translations of the " Iliad" and the " Odyssey," give him a permanent place in literature, and justify the estimate in which he is held among English-speaking people. His essays, addresses, and letters of travel, proved him to possess a prose style scarcely less graceful and dignified; and in all his writings, whether in prose or verse, we feel ourselves in contact with a spirit of singular sweetness and purity. The verses which follow were written for a Com- munion Hymn, and are quoted from a little book of hymns which he published in 1864. LL praise to Him of Nazareth, — The Holy One who came, For love of man, to die a de&th Of agony and shame ! Dark was the grave ; but, since He lay Within its dreary cell, The beams of heaven's eternal day Upon its threshold dwell. ONCE MORE THOU COAfEST, 317 He grasped the iron veil ; He drew Its gloomy folds aside, And opened to His followers' view The glorious world they hide. In tender memory of His grave The mystic bread we take, And muse upon the life He gave So freely for our sake. A boundless love He bore mankind : Oh, may at least a part Of that strong love descend, and find A place in every heart ! ©iter more tfjott contest, © trrltctous Spring ! By Rev. William Croswell, D.D., who was born at Hudson, N.Y., in 1804, graduated at Vale in 1823, and died at Boston in 1851. He was Rector of Christ Church, Boston, 1829-40; Rector of St. Peter's Church, Auburn, N.V., 1840-44; and Rector of the Church of the Advent, Boston, from 1844 till his death. His poems were published in a volume after his death. NCE more thou comest, O delicious Spring ! And, as thy light and gentle foot- steps tread Among earth's glories, desolate and dead, 3 18 'TIS HE! 'TIS HE! I KNOW HIM NOW. Breathcst revival over every thing. Thy genial spirit is abroad to bring The cold and faded into life and bloom, — Emblem of that which shall unlock the tomb, And take away the fell destroyer's sting : Therefore thou hast the warmer welcoming ; For Nature speaks not of herself alone, But in her resurrection tells our own. As from the grave comes forth the buried grain, So man's frail body, in corruption sown, In incorruption shall be raised again. 'ftis $e ! 'tis $e ! X fcnoto &tm nofo- By George Washington Bethune, D.D., who was born in New York in 1805; graduated at Dickinson College 1822; studied theology at Princeton ; was settled as pastor over the Reformed Dutch churches at Rhinebeck, N.Y. (1827), at Philadelphia (1834), and at Brooklyn Heights, N.Y. (1850); died at Florence, Italy, whither he had gone to seek re- covery of impaired health, April 27, 1862. He was a man of fine scholar- ship, and of brilliant powers as writer and orator. He published several volumes of essays, sermons, and poems. |IS He ! 'tis He ! I know Him now, By the red scars upon His brow, His wounded hands, and feet, and side, — My Lord ! my God ! the Crucified ! 'TIS ///■: T/S HE! I KNOW HIM .voir Those hands have rolled the stone Those feet have trod the path to-day ; And round that brow triumphant shine The rays of Majesty divine. Oh, from those hands uplifted shed Thy blessing on my fainting head ! And, as I clasp those feet, impart The love that gushed from out Thy heart ! Thy death upon the cross be mine ; My life from mortal sin be Thine ; And mine the way Thy feet have trod, To reign in heaven with Thee, My God ! 320 TELL US, GARD'NER. Cell us, ffiarfc'ner, trost tijou ftnofo? By Arthur Cleveland Coxe, D.D., Bishop of Western New York. He was born in Mendham, N.J., May 10, 1818, and studied at the Uni- versity of New York. He was ordained in 1841, and has been Rector of the parishes of St. Anne's, Morrisania, St. John's, Hartford, and Grace Church, Brooklyn. Since 1864 he has been Bishop of 'Western New York. He is one of the best known of American sacred poets, and his " Christian Ballads" in particular have enjoyed a wide and merited popu- larity. The following exquisite Easter Madrigal was first printed in " The New-York Independent" in 1877, an ^ is here given as revised by the author for this collection. MARY AND SALOME. [ELL us, GarcTner, dost thou know Where the Rose and Lily grow, — Sharon's Crimson Rose, and pale Judah's Lily of the Vale ? Rude is yet the opening year ; Yet their sweetest breath is here. GARDENER. Daughters of Jerusalem, Yes, 'tis here we planted them. 'Twas a Rose all red with gore ; Wondrous were the thorns it bore 'Twas a body swathed in white ; Ne'er was Lily half so bright. TELL US y GARD'NRR. THE WOMEN, Gentle Gard'ner, even What we seek thou seem'st to know. Bearing spices and perfume, We are come to Joseph's tomb. Breaks even now the rosy day : Roll us, then, the stone away. GARDENER. Holy women ! this the spot. Seek Him ; but it holds Him not. This the holy mount of myrrh, Here the hills of incense were, Here the bed of His repose, Till, ere dawn of day, He rose. MAGDALENE. Yes, my name is Magdalene : I myself the Lord have seen. Here I came but now, and wept Where I deemed my Saviour slept : But He called my name ; and, lo ! Jesus lives, — 'tis even so. GARDENER. Yes, the mountains skipped like rams ; Leaped the little hills like lambs ; 322 TELL US, GARDINER. All was dark, when shook the ground, Quaked the Roman soldiers round, Streamed a glorious light, and then Lived the Crucified again. WOMEN. Magdalene hath seen and heard ! Gardener, we believe thy word ; But, oh, where is Jesus fled, Living, and no longer dead ? Tell us, that we, too, may go Where the Rose and Lily grow. MAGDALENE. Come, the stone is rolled away ; See the place where Jesus lay ; See the lawn that wrapped His brow ; Here the angel sat but now. " Seek not here the Christ," he said ; " Seek not life among the dead." ALL. Seek we, then, the life above ; Seek we Christ, our Light and Love. Now His words we call to mind: If we seek Him, we shall find ; If we love Him, we shall know Where the Rose and Lily grow. 1111. WINTER IS OVER. CTIir Klintcr is otorr antJ gone at Last. By Aki h — See the bi graphical note prefixed to the preceding i*>cm. HE winter is over and gone at last ; The days of snow and cold are past ; Over the fields the Mowers appear: It is the Spirit's voice we hear : The singing of birds, A warbling band, And the Spirit's voice, — The voice of the truth, — is heard in our land. And gone are the plaintive days of Lent : The week of the cross with Christ we spent ; Now He giveth us joy for woe : Gather the flowers, the first that blow : The singing of birds, A warbling band, And flowers, are words Which even a babe may understand. And Christ is the song of every thinr. Alexander Ramsay Th :>hical notice prefixed to the hymn, " We keep the Festival." IXG aloud, children ! sing to the glo- rious King Of Redemption, who sits on the throne ; For the seraphim high veil their faces, and cry, And the angels are praising the Son. With Mis raiment blood-dyed, and with wounds in His side, lie returns like a chief from the war, Where His champion blow hath laid death and hell low, And hath driven destruction afar. 326 DO SAINTS KEEP HOLY DAY? Not a helper stood by when the foemen drew nigh, And arrayed their leagued hosts for the fight ; But He met them alone, and the victory won By His own irresistible might. Yes, the triumph He won ! Give the Cruci- fied Son Hallelujahs of praise ever new : Hail Him, children, and say, Hallelujah ! to- day ; For the Saviour is risen for you. Do Saints keep f&olg Dag in ^eafaenlg Paces ? By Mrs. Adeline D. T. Whitney, who was born in Boston in 1824. She is the daughter of Mr. Enoch Train, and the wife of Mr. Seth D. Whitney of Milton, Mass., where she now resides. She is the author of " Faith Gartney's Girlhood," " Hitherto," " Sights and Insights," and other stories, and c\ a number of poems, some of which have been pub- lished in a volume entitled " Pansies." Her writings, both prose and verse, are marked by deep spiritual feeling. O saints keep holy day in heavenly places ? Does the old joy shine new in angel- faces ? Are hymns still sung the night when Christ was born ? And anthems on the resurrection-morn ? DO SAINTS KEEP HOLY DA\ . 327 Because our little year of earth is run, 1).) they keep record there beyond the sun, And, in their homes oi light so far away, Mark with us the sweet coming oi this day? What is their Easter? for they have no graves ; No shadow there the holy sunrise craves, — Dee}) in the heart of noontide marvellous, Whose breaking glory reaches down to us. How did the Lord keep Easter? With His own ! Back to meet Mary, where she grieved alone, With face and mien all tenderly the same, Unto the very sepulchre He came. Ah the dear message that He gave her then ! — Said for the sake of all bruised hearts of men, — "Go tell those friends that have believed on me, I go before them into Galilee. " Into the life so poor and hard and plain, That for a while they must take up again, 328 DO SAINTS KEEP HOLY DAY? My presence passes : where their feet toil slow, Mine, shining, swift with love, still foremost go! " Say, Mary, I will meet them by the way, To walk a little with them ; where they stay, To bring my peace. Watch ; for ye do not know The day, the hour, when I may find you so ! " And I do think, as He came back to her, The many mansions may be all astir With tender steps, that hasten in the way, Seeking their own upon this Easter-Day. Parting the veil that hideth them about, I think they do come, softly, wistful, out From homes of heaven that only seem so far, And walk in gardens where the new tombs are. HALLOWED FOREVER. gallofoeti former ur tliat JTboiltglit 3[>our. l'.y Mrs. Martha Perry Lows, !><>rn at (teem ind married, >c-j>t. 16, 1857, ,,) ^ (V - Chai Unitarian K is the author of two volumi ALLOWED forever be that twilight hour When those disciples went upon their way : The deepening shadows o'er their spirits lower, The tender griefs that come with close of day. A gentle stranger tarried by their side, And asked them sweetly why they were sad ? "Hast thou not seen our Master crucified ?" They answered. " How can we again be Had?" " O children," said the stranger, " do you read The things which all the holy prophets said, How He would suffer and would die indeed, But yet should rise in glory from the dead ? " 330 HALLOWED FOREVER. And, when the little village came in view, Thev said, " Abide with us ; for it is late : " So He went in, and sat down with the two, And took the bread, and blessed it ere they ate. Their searching eyes were fastened on His face ; They caught the look which chained them as of old, Only it wore diviner, loftier grace : Their glorious risen Master they behold ! And then they knew how strangely all the while Their spirits burned within them as He talked, Or listened to them with that very smile, Explaining oft the Scriptures while they walked. They felt reward for all their bitter pain, When, lo, He vanished softly from their sight ! But they could never be so sad again Who had the memory of that blessed night. HOW SHALL WE KEEP THIS //<>/ ) DA J31 &ofo shall 8He krrp this ?i>olu Day of l'y from a published in 1878, and containing client hymns for the festivals of the Church. [OW shall we keep this holy day of gladness, This queen of days, that bitter, hope- 5S 3 Forever drives away ? The night is past, its sleep and its forgetting : Our risen sun, no more forever setting Pours everlasting day. Let us not bring upon this joyful morning Dead myrrh and spices for our Lord's adorn- ing, V >r any lifeless thing : Our gifts shall be the fragrance and the splendor Of living flowers, in breathing beauty tender, The glory of our spring. And, with the myrrh, oh ! put away the leaven Of malice, hatred, injuries unforgiven, 332 CHRIST HAS ARISE AT. And cold and lifeless form ; Still, with the lilies, deeds of mercy bringing, And fervent prayers, and praises upward springing, And hopes pure, bright, and warm. So shall this Easter shed a fragrant beauty O'er many a day of dull and cheerless duty, And light thy wintry way ; Till rest is won, and Patience, smiling faintly, Upon thy breast shall lay her lilies saintly, To hail heaven's Easter-day. (Cfjrtst fjas arisen. By E. A. Washburn, D.D. From Miss Chapman's " Easter Hymns." — See the biographical note prefixed to the hymn, "Still thy sorrow, Magdalena." HRIST has arisen : Death is no more ! Lo ! the white-robed ones Sit by the door. Dawn, golden morning ! Scatter the night ! Haste, ye disciples glad, First with the light ! CHRIST HAS ARISl Break forth in singii ( ) world new-born ! • Chant the great Easter-tide, Christ's holy morn ! Chant Him, young sunbeams Dancing in mirth ! Chant, all ye winds of God Coursing the earth ! Chant Him, ye laughing flowers Fresh from the sod ! Chant Him, wild, leaping streams, Praising your God ! Break from thy winter, Sad heart, and sing ! Bud with thy blossoms fair; Christ is thy spring. Come where the Lord hath lain : Past is the gloom : See the full eye of day Smile through the tomb ! Hark ! angel-voices Fall from the skies : Christ hath arisen ! Glad heart, arise ! 334 O MINE EYES, BE NOT SO TEARFUL'. © mine Ems, he not so ©earful! By Miss Phcebe Cary, who was born Sept. 4, 1824; and died at New- port, R.I., July 31, 1871. Her birthplace was in Ohio, in a farmhouse eight miles north of Cincinnati. Left motherless at an early age. she and her sister Alice found consolation in writing verses, which gradually attracted attention by their grace, compass, and sweetness. In 1850, after publishing a little volume of poems of joint authorship, the sisters went to New York, and began the struggle for a livelihood by literary labor. Six years later they established themselves in a pleasant home on Twentieth Street, which continued the centre of a charming literary and social circle until it was broken by the death of Alice in 1870, and destroyed by the death of Phcebe in 1871. In the annals of authorship there are few things more touching and interesting than the story of the common life, labors, and sorrows of these sister poets, as told by Mrs. Clemmer in her volume of "Memorials." Their lives were as full of fragrance and beauty as their poems, and the latter take rank among the best productions of American female poets. The following poem derives a pathetic interest from the fact that it is the last that Phcebe Cary wrote, and gives voice to her own serene faith, which rose triumphant above pain and sickness and the fear of death. MINE eyes, be not so tearful ! Drooping spirit, rise, be cheerful ; a Heavy soul, why art thou fearful ? " Nature's sepulchre is breaking, And the earth, her gloom forsaking, Into life and lisfht is waking. " Oh the weakness and the madness Of a heart that holdeth sadness When all else is lisrht and gladness ! // WAS DARKNESS "Though thy treasure death has taken, They that sleep are not forsake'n : They shall hear the trump, and waken. "Shall not He, who lite supplieth To the dead seed where it lieth, Quicken also man, who dieth ? " Yea, the power oi death was ended When lie, who to hell descended, Rose, and up to heaven ascended. 14 Rise, my soul, then, from dejection: See in nature the reflection Of the dear Lord's resurrection. "Let this promise leave thee never: — If the miglit of death I seeer, Ye shall also live forever ! " ©n 3£artlj foas Darkness spread anonymous authorship; from *' A . (ins for Public and Private Devotion," edited by S. Longfellow and S. Johnson. N earth was darkness spread O'er boundless night : 'i M Let there be light ! " God said ; And there was light ! 336 THOU THAT OX THE FIRST OF EASTERS. There hung a deeper gloom O'er quick and dead ; But Jesus burst the tomb, And darkness fled. God by His word arrayed Darkness with light ; God by His Son displayed Day without night. For thee, O man I arose Creation's ray ; For thee, too, brighter glows Salvation's day. The beams first poured en earth For mortals shone ; The light of later birth Immortals own. Cfjou tljat on ttjr jftrst of IZastrrs. By W. B., from " Elim. or Hymns of Holy Refreshment," edited by Rev. F. D. Huntington, D.D. HOU that on the first of Easters Cam'st resplendent from the tomb, Leaving all Tin* linen cerements Folded in the cavern's gloom, THOU THAT ON THE TIRS'T of E asters, y^j Come with thine "All hail!" to greet us; ( !ome, our Paschal joy to be : Let our altar, clad in brightn< Vielcl a throne of white lor Thee. This shall crown the Queen of Sundays; Grant but this, — our cup runs o'er : Hymns that welcomed in Thine Easter Made us long for this the more. All the Paschal Alleluias Craved to see the Lamb appear : Come the hour when faith shall tell us, He is risen ! He is here ! Agnus Dei, we are guilty ; Panis Vitae, we are faint ; But Thou didst not rise at Easter To be deaf to our complaint : Come, oh, come ! to cleanse and feed us, Breathing peace, and kindling love, Till Thy Paschal blessings bear us To the Feast of feasts above. 338 FOR EASTER DAY, O LILIES WHITE! tfor Hastrr Bag, © Lilies BHfjtte! By Harriet McEwen Kimball. Miss Kimball was born at Ports- mouth, N.H., and has always lived there. She has published a volume of " Hymns," and a volume entitled " Swallow Flights of Song," from the latter of which the following is taken. Mr. Whittier has said of her poems, that, " in the range of modern religious poetry, I know of but few pieces more true and tender, more sweetly touched with the ' beauty of holiness,' than hers." OR Easter Day, O Lilies white, Your shrined splendors keep ! But while the sweet, sad, waning light Of Easter Even fades, Amid the sacred shades Where Sorrow comes to weep, — Nor weeps in vain, Since Hope is born of very Pain, (And Pain its pangs in joy forgets,) — There breathe your balm, sweet Violets ! Dear twilight-flowers whose lovely hue, More tender than the tenderest blue, Yet not as purple sad, appears Most like transformed tears. " A little while ! " ye seem to sigh, "And yet a little while ! " ye say, " The stone shall noiseless roll away : Unseen across the midnight sky DAWN OF DAWNS, THE FASTER PAY. Twilight and Daybreak run to m Already angels throng the air, And twain, descending, kneel, Wiled in awe, at head and feet Of that new tomb whose broken seal The wondering Morning shall reveal, And ' lie is risen ! ' declare. Sweet odors — sweeter than the sweet Of violets and lilies blent, The sweet of holy slumber spent — Stealing from vesture folded fair, And fragrant with the Lord's own care, Wherein His Blessed Body lay Till break of day, Shall make most sweet the graves of those, Who, entering into Paradise, Do sleep in Him Who died and rose ; In Whom they, too, shall rise." Daton of Datons, tfjr IZastrr Bag* By Harriet IfcEwEN Kimball. — See note to preceding hymn. S^AWX of dawns, the Easter Day Far and wide in splendor breaks Darkest shadows flee away Where it breaks. 340 DAWN OF DAUWS, THE EASTER DAY. Veiled in its vernal light, Christ, the Light of Light, arose ; From the grave's unbroken night He arose. Though beneath the Cross He fell, Though upon the Cross He died, Led He captive Death and Hell When He died. Overcome, He overcame ; Conquered, more than Conqueror lives ; Crowned King with Heaven's acclaim, Jesus lives ! Through the gates of sacrifice He, the Victim, Victor went : Lo, His triumph lights the skies Since He went ! Darker than the night our sin, Silent as the tomb our life : Still His glory enters in, — Light and life. " Rise and follow Me," He saith ; " Love as I have loved you ; Rise to life that I through death Won for you." DAWN OF DAWNS, THE FASTER PAY. 341 Love that counts not sacrifice, Keeping nothing back from Him, — To such love must we ari.se, Following Him. As He laid I lis garments by, With the bondage of the grave Clothed in Love's own majesty Left the grave, — Self, the earth's most earthy dress, Must we cast aside like Him, And, putting on His righteousness, Rise with Him. He hath rolled the stone away, Through Redemption's might, for us : Dawn of dawns, the Easter Day Breaks for us. 34^ WHO DEEMS THE SAVIOUR DEAD? ggtyo items tijc Sabiour Beat? By Francis De Haes Janvier, who was born in Philadelphia in 1817, and is now residing there. His first volume, " The Skeleton Monk and Other Poems," was published in 1861. In 1S63 he published a poem entitled ''The Sleeping Sentinel;" and in 1866 a volume of "Patriotic Poems," containing verses written during the war of the Rebellion. 1HO deems the Saviour dead ? And yet he bowed His head, And while in sudden night the sun retired, And, through thick darkness hurled, Reeled on the shuddering world, The mighty Son of God in blood expired. Expired ; but, in the gloom And silence of the tomb, Death's mystery unveiled to mortal sight : Triumphant o'er His foes, A conqueror He rose, And from the grave commanded life and light ! And shall we count those dead For whom the Saviour bled, And died and rose, and lives forevermore ? WHO DEEMS THE SAVIOUR DEAD And were the grief and loss, The shame and scourge and cros Endured in vain by Him whom we adore ? And shall His children fear When that dread hour draws near Which gives them immortality with God ? Should not our souls rejoice To hear our Father's voice, And gladly take the path the Saviour trod ? Through death's deep shadow lies Our journey to the skies, And all beyond is light and life and love : The dead whom we deplore Have only passed before, And wait to greet us in the world above. Then let the summons come Which calls our spirits home From sin and pain and sorrow ever free, Where weary ones may rest Upon that Saviour's breast Whose death revealed our immortality. 344 THE WORLD KEEPS EASTER DAY. Cfje CKorto itself keeps Easter Bag. The following appears in Miss Chapman's volume of Easter Hymns. The name of the author is not given. [HE world itself keeps Easter Day, And Easter larks are singing, And Easter flowers are blooming gay, And Easter buds are springing. The Lord of all things lives anew, And all His works are rising too. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Praise the Lord ! There stood three Marys by the tomb On Easter morning early, When day had scarcely chased the gloom, And dew was white and pearly : With loving but with erring mind They came the Prince of Life to find. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Praise the Lord ! But earlier still the angel sped, His words of comfort giving ; BS or SPRING. 345 "And why," he said, " among the dead Thus seek ye for the living?" The risen Jesus lives again, To save the souls of sinful men. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the Lord ! The world itself keeps Easter Day, And Easter larks are singing, And Easter Sowers are blooming gay, And Easter buds are springing. The Lord is risen, as all things tell : Good Christians, see ye rise as well. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Praise the Lord ! ISrrncs of Spring, all Eartt) to Life afoaking. Anonymous; from " The Changed Cross " collection. |REEZES of spring, all earth to life awaking, Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, The seed up-springing which had seemed to die, — 346 BREEZES OF SPRING. Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; But weary hearts longed for a surer token, A clearer way to dissipate its gloom. And this was granted ! See the Lord as- cending, On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, With hands outstretched, and looks of love still bending On His bereaved ones, who no longer mourn ! " I am the resurrection," hear Him saying ! " I am the life : he who believes in me Shall never die : the souls my call obeying, Soon where I am forevermore shall be." Sing hallelujah! light from heaven appear- ing, The mystery of life and death is plain : Now to the grave we can descend unf earing, In sure and certain hope to rise again ! J3ibliograp!)ij. BIBLIOGRAPHY. 731* \rtial list i the preparation of this collection : — Lyra Consolation is j or, Hymns for the Day of Sorrow and Weariness. Edited by Horatius Bonar, D.D. New York: 1S66. Elim; or, Hymns of Holy Refreshment. Edited by Rev. F. D. Huntington, D.D. Boston: 1S65. Christian SINGERS OF GERMANY. By Catherine Wink- worth. London : 1S69. The Voice oe Christian Life in Song ; or, Hymns and Hymn- Writers of Many Lands and Ages. By Mrs. Eliza- beth Charles, author of u The Chronicles of the Schonberg- Cotta Family." New York : 1S66. Evenings with the Sacred Poets: a Scries of Quiet Talks about the Singers and their Songs. By Frederick Saunders. New York : 1S69. England's Antiphon. By George MacDonald, LL.D. London. A Book of Hymns for Public and Private Devo- tion. Edited by S. Longfellow and S. Johnson. 13th edi- tion. Boston : 1S61. LAUDA SYON. Ancient Latin Hymns of the English and Other Churches. Translated into corresponding metres by John David Chambers. London : 1866. 3 SO BIBLIOGRAPHY. Hymns of Love and Praise for the Christian Year. By John S. B. Monsell, Vicar of Egham. London : 1866. IIvmxologia Christiana; or, Psalms and Hymns selected and arranged in the order of the Christian Sea- sons. By Benjamin Hall Kennedy, D.D. London : 1S63. Lyra GERMANIC A. Hymns for the Sundays and Chief Festivals of the Christian Year. Translated from the Ger- man by Catherine Winkworth. Boston : 1868. Lyra Messianica. Hymns and Verses on the Life of Christ, Ancient and Modern, with other poems. Edited by Rev. Orby Shipley. London : 1869. Carmina Crucis. By Dora Greenwell. Boston: 1869. Sursum Corda: Hymns for the Sick and Suffer- ing. Compiled by the editor of "Quiet Hours," &c. Bos- ton: 1877. Singers and Songs of the Liberal Faith. Edited, with biographical sketches and historical and illustrative notes, by Alfred P. Putnam. Boston: 1875. Hymns from the Land of Luther. Edinburgh : 1863. The Hymns of Denmark. Translated by Gilbert Tait. London: 1 868. Singers and Songs of the Church ; being Biographi- cal Sketches of the Hymn -Writers in all the principal col- lections, with notes on their psalms and hymns. By Josiah Miller, M. A. London: 1869. Lyra Sacra Americana ; or, Gems from American Sacred Poetry. Selected and arranged, with notes and biographical sketches, by Charles Dexter Cleveland. Lon- don : 1868. Hymns Ancient and Modern. With annotations, originals, references, authors' and translators' names, &c. Re-edited by Rev. Louis Coutier Biggs, M.A. London: 1867. Annotations of the Hymnal. Consisting of notes, biographical sketches of authors, originals, and references. By Rev. Charles L. Hutchins, M.A. Hartford, Conn. : 1872. BIBLIOGRAPHY. Hy\i\> \\d Poems, Original ind Translated. ird ( !aswall. Second edition. Lond( ci mens 01 nil Russian Poets, with introduct remarks, a vols. By John Bowring, F.R.S. London: The Book of Praise. From the best English Hymn- Writers. Selected and arranged by Roundell Palmer. Cambridge : 1S70. The Sunday Book of Poetry. Selected and arranged by C. 1 . Alexander. Cambridge : 1 S65. Lyra Mystica: Hymns and Verses on Sacred Sul Ancient and Modern. Edited by Rev. Orby Shipley. Lon- don: 1S69. Hymns of the Eastern Church. Translated by Rev. J. M. Neale, D.D. London: 1S62. Hymns and Poems for the Sick and Suffering. Edited by V. Fosbery. London: 1861. The Harp and 1111: Cross. Compiled by Stephen G. Bulfinch. Boston : d s ;~. The Vear of Praise. Edited by Henry Alford, D.D., Dean of Canterbury. London: 1S67. Mediaeval Hymns and Sequences. Translated by Rev. J. M. Neale, D.D. London: 1S62. Latin Hymns, with English Notes. By F. A. March, LL.D. New York: 1874. Sacred Latin Poetry. Edited, with notes, by Richard ChenevLx Trench, D.D. London : 1S64. Lyra BRITANNICA: A collection of British Hymns. Edited by C. Rogers. London: 1S6S. Lyra CATHOLICA. New York: 1851. Lyra DOMESTICA. Translated from the Psaltery and Harp of C. J. P. Spitta, by Richard Massie. B ston : 1861. Lyra ANGLICANA. Collected and arranged by Rev. Robert H. Baynes. Leipzig: 1S6S. Hymns and Meditations. By A. L. \Y. London: 1S70. 35 2 BIBLIOGRAPHY. Christ in Song: Hymns of Immanuel. Selected from all ages, with notes. By Philip Schaff, D.D. New York : 1870. The Hymnal Noted. London. The People's Hymnal. London: 1877. Hymns from the German. Translated by Frances Elizabeth Cox. London : 1864. Songs of the Soul : Gathered out of Many Lands and Ages. By Samuel Irenasus Prime. New York: 1874. Easter Hymns. Compiled by J. E. C. Chapman. Bos- ton : 1876. Now is Christ Risen : Poems for Easter-Tide. Com- piled by S. L. N. Boston: 1876. The Spirit of Praise. A Collection of Hymns Old and New. London. Lyra Anglicana. Edited by Rev. George T. Rider. New York : 1865. Lyra Americana. Edited by Rev. George T. Rider. New York : 1865. Poetical Works of Giles Fletcher, Edmund Spenser, Richard Crashaw, George Sandys, George Wither, John Beaumont, Henry Vaughn, George Herbert, Robert Her- rick, Christopher Harvey, William Lisle Bowles, James Montgomery, Henry Alford, Mrs. Hemans, William Cullen Bryant, Jean Ingelow, and Charles Kingsley ; together with various hymn-books, &c.