3./*. 2. LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PRINCETON, N. J Division Section. ¥4So HYMNS OF THE AGES. Uniform with this Volumt HYMNS OF THE AGES. SECOND SERIES. Being Selections from Wither, Crafhaw, Southwell, Habing- con, and other Sources. One volume, 121110. Price $1.25. Fine editions of this Work, the Firft and Second Series, printed upon large paper, and bound in bevelled boards. Price $3.00 each volume. TICKNOR AND FIELDS. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/hymnsagesOOwhit HYMNS OF THE AGES. BEING SELECTIONS FROM LYRA CATHOLIC A, GERMANIC A APOSTOLICA, AND OTHER SOURCES. WITH AN INTRODUCTION By REV. F. D. HUNTINGTON, D. D. FIRST SERIES. BOSTON: TICKNOR AND FIELDS M DCCC LXIII. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, By Phillips, Sampson, and Company, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY 1 PREFACE IT has been our purpose in compiling this vol- ume, to bring together, irrespective of creed and in a convenient form, some of the best sacred poetry, such as contains quiet thoughts for quiet hours, — devotional, comforting, peaceful. We have therefore in several instances omitted hymns which deservedly rank among the best, and in those from the Lyra Catholica have made a few slight alterations. Preferring the older hymns as less known, and richer in association, we have not limited ourselves to these : whatever seemed to belong in the book we have placed here, not carelessly, yet caring little for its outward source. If it be true that all along the ages and amid all varying phases of belief, the VI Preface. human heart is the same, and if this in the hymns before us, has chanted its yearnings, and doubts, and comforts, and heavenward hopes, in the one great temple whose roof overarches all our creeds, need we ask whether the strain first stole from desk or aisle, from monkish crypt or kingly chapel, from the soul of a heart-broken sinner, or canonized saint % The heart of humanity in its highest, deepest moods has spoken here, still speaks; and the Divine heart has listened, listens still as we believe, to the* tender and glorious songs. C. S. w. a. E. G. July, 1858. PREFACE TO THE LYRA CATHOLICA. COMPETENT and willing hands have been found to do the grateful work of making these selections of rare and beautiful poetry. Most of the pieces, not all, are culled from the rich and hallowed minstrelsy of the Catholic Communion, — the time being quite come when Christians who would be truly catholic, cannot afford to lose the nourishment and consolation for the inward life, which any branch of Christ's Body supplies. To most Protestants these pieces will be new. By a few, some of them will be greeted as acquaintances already familiar and endeared, the companions of many sacred hours. The present writer's office is merely to pass on to the public what the taste and veneration of two friends have made ready. With- Vlll Preface to the Lyra Catholic a. out undertaking to commend these noble and grace- ful productions, he would only invite the inquiry whether the elements and influences united in them, are not precisely such as the religious culture of our time and region needs; whether the nameless quali- ty of genuine sacred poetry is not in them, in a re- markable measure; whether the energy and fire of original genius are not finely blended with the sim- plicity of a quiet heart and a deep spirituality ; whether the facts, the materials, the symbols, the persons, all the outward forms and events through which the Eternal Word is revealed, are not here so delicately and vigorously touched as to render them powerful attractions to a holy life ; and wheth- er devotion is not likely to grow ardent and firm where the inmost soul of man is so humbly thrown open, as here, to the personal approaches of his Maker and Redeemer. It may be interesting to those readers who are first introduced to the treasures of devout poetry in the Old Church by this volume, to know that the Lyra Catholica most in use in this country is a re- Preface to the Lyra Catholica. publication and enlargement of an English collec- tion, of the same name, compiled and translated by Edward Caswall in 1849, — extracts from whose preface are given below. The American work is published by Edward Dunigan and brother, of New York, whose kindness and courtesy in allowing the present abridgment are cordially acknowledged. It includes three parts : 1. The Hymns of the Roman Breviary and Missal, with others adapted to the an- nual Festivals of the Church; 2. Hymns, Anthems, and Holy Lyrics, appropriate to particular occa- sions of devotion; 3. Sacred Poems less intimately related to ecclesiastical services, selected from both Catholic and Protestant writers. From the whole vast range of Christian thought, experience, and imagination, therefore, — from the fresh melodies lifted in the morning air of the Christian ages, — from that long line of consecrated and aspiring singers reaching back to the days of Constantine, — from among the lofty strains of Am- brose and Jerome and their strong fellow-believers, where the sanctity of centuries is so wrought, like an invisible aroma, into the very substance and Preface to the Lyra Catholica. structure of the verses, that it would seem as if some prophetic sense of their immortality had breathed in the men that wrote them, — from the secret cells and the high cathedrals of the Continen- tal worship, where scholarship, and art, and power joined with piety to raise the Lauds and Glorias, the Matins and Vespers, the Sequences and the Choral Harmonies of a gorgeously appointed p ra i se? — from the purer literature of Old England, embracing the tender and earnest numbers of South- well, and Crashaw, and Habington, and a multitude better known besides,— these voices of Faith are reverently gathered into their perfect harmony. The volume is offered to the thoughtful portion of our community, with a cheerful confidence that it will fulfil an elevating, purifying, comforting ministry in many hearts, closets, and homes. Nor will its worth fail to be the more cordially con- fessed in many quarters, because so much in it favors the general tendency to recognize the observ- ances and associations of the Christian \ ear. Cambridge, June 1858. F. D. H, EXTRACTS From the Preface of Edward Caswall, M. A., to his Lyra Catholic a. It has been the object to exhibit for the firft time in an Englifh form, the entire series of those divine Hymns, which, in their Latin originals, have through ages been, and ftill continue to be, to countless saintly souls, the joy and consolation of their earthly pilgrimage. " The present contribution to the exifting ftore of Cath- olic vernacular Hymns, confifts of three portions. The firft, and by far the largeft portion, comprehends all the Hymns in the Roman Breviary, including those in the Of- flcia Sanctorum Angliae ; the second portion comprises the Hymns and Sequences of the Rpman Miflal ; and the third confifts of Hymns from various sources. Of these latter it may be observed, that the Hymns on the Nativity, Annunciation, and Vifitation, of our Blefled Lady, as also those to St. Anne, St. Stephen, and St. John the Evange- lift, are from the Monaftic Breviary of Cluny ; those on the Purification and the AfTumption, the Hymn to Jesus, and that for Sunday Morning, from the Parifian Breviary ; and those to St. Joseph, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. Pius the Fifth, from the Raccolta delle Indulgence. " As respects the Hymns in general, it may be useful to remark, that the greater number of them appear to have been originally written, not with a view to private xii Preface. reading, but for the purpose of being sung to the beautiful ecclefiaftical melodies by Monaftic and other Religious Bodies at their Office in Choir. This circumftance will serve to explain a few scattered exprefiions, which other- wise might seem unreal ; as, for inftance, where allufions occur to the practice of rifing at midnight to fing praises to God ; — and if, on the one hand, some few of the Hymns may so far appear less adapted to the use of per- sons living in the world, it is our gain surely, on the other hand, thus, by occafional glimpses, to be reminded of that more perfect life, which has never ceased to be a reality in the Catholic Church. " Another advantage, which we owe, doubtless, in a measure, to the same circumftance — an advantage not to be despised in a sentimental age — is the exceedingly plain and practical character of these Hymns. Written with a view to conftant daily use, they aim at something more than merely exciting the feelings. They have a perpetual reference to action. Their character is eminently objec- tive. Their tendency is, to take the individual out of himself ; to set before him, in turn, all the varied and sub- lime Objects of Faith ; and to blend him with the uni- versal family of the Faithful. " And here, although the Tranflator may seem to be pleading his own cause, yet he cannot refrain from observ- ing, that truly poetical as are many of these Hymns, as in- deed well befits the sacred outpourings of Chrift's tender Spouse, ftill, as a whole, the devotional is their primary and leaft disappointing aspect. Whoever attempts to read them as mere poetry, will obtain from them little of that Preface. Xlll delight which they are capable of inspiring. And as this is true of the original Latin, so it is truer ftill of the Hymns as they appear in the present tranflation \ in which, it is to be feared, the unadorned fimplicity of the prototype has too often degenerated into plainness ; while its beauties have been faintly reflected, and their clear edge blunted in patting through a too earthly medium." CONTENTS. PAGE LYRA CATHOLICA MAT (NS 3 VESPERS 19 ASPIRATION 23 SELF-CONSECRATION 29 TRUST 39 PRAYER 50 ENCOURAGEMENT 56 SELF-EXAMINATION 6 1 CHRIST 73 SAINTS, MARTYRS, &C I OO COMMUNION SERVICE 1 1 6 DEDICATION OF A CHURCH 1 1 9 MISCELLANEOUS 122 LYRA GERMANICA 137 LYRA APOSTOLICA 179 LYRA INNOCENTIUM 193 MISCELLANEOUS 215 LYRA CATHOLICA. MATINS. O BLEST Creator of the light ! Who doft the dawn from darkness bring ; And framing Nature's depth and height, Didft with the new-born light begin ; Who gently blending eve with morn, And morn with eve, didft call them day : — Thick flows the flood of darkness down ; Oh, hear us as we weep and pray ! Keep thou our souls from schemes of crime ; Nor guilt remorseful let them know ; Nor, thinking but on things of time, Into eternal darkness go. Teach us to knock at Heaven's high door ; Teach us the prize of life to win ; Teach us all evil to abhor, And purify ourselves within. Breviary. Matins. VTOW doth the sun ascend the fky, -^ ^ And wake creation with its ray ; Keep us from fin, O Lord mod high ! Through all the actions of the day. Curb Thou for us th' unruly tongue ; Teach us the way of peace to prize ; And close our eyes againff. the throng Of earth's absorbing vanities. Oh, may our hearts be pure within ! No cherifh'd madness vex the soul ! May abftinence the flefh retrain, And its rebellious pride control. So when the evening ftars appear, And in their train the darkness bring ; May we, O Lord, with conscience clear, Our praise to thy pure glory fmg. Breviary Matins. OUR limbs with tranquil fleep refrefh'd Lightly from bed we spring j Father supreme! to us be nigh While to thy praise we sing. Thy love be firfl in every heart Thy name on every tongue ; Whatever we this day may do, May it in Thee be done. Soon will the morning ftar arise, And chase the dufk away ; Whatever guilt has come with night, May it depart with day. Cut off in us, Almighty Lord, All that may lead to fhame ; So with pure hearts may we in bliss Thine endless praise proclaim. Breviary. Matins. GREAT Framer of the earth and fky, Who doft the light and darkness give! And all the cheerful change supply Of alternating morn and eve! Light of the midnight traveller ! Who doft divide the day from night ! — Loud crows the dawn's fhrill harbinger, And wakens up the sunbeams bright. Forthwith at this, the darkness chill Retreats before the ftar of morn ; And from their busy schemes of ill, The vagrant crews of night return. Frefh hope, at this, the sailor cheers ; The waves their ftormy ftrife allay ; The Church's Rock at this, in tears, Haftens to warn his guilt away. Arise ye, then, with one accord ! Nor longer wrapt in {lumber lie ; The cock rebukes all who their Lord By floth neglect, by fin deny. Matins. At his clear cry joy springs afrefh ; Health courses through the sick man's veins ; The dagger glides into its fheath ; The fallen soul her faith regains. Jesu ! look on us when we fall ; — One momentary glance of thine Can from her guilt the soul recall To tears of penitence divine. Awake us from false fleep profound, And through our senses pour thy light ; Be thy bleft name the firft we sound At early dawn, the laft at night. Breviary. Matins. COME, Holy Ghoft, and through each heart In thy full flood of glory pour ; Who, with the Son and Father, art One Godhead bleft for evermore. So mail voice, mind, and ftrength conspire Thy praise eternal to resound ; So mall our hearts be set on fire, And kindle every heart around. Father of mercies ! hear our cry j Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! Who, with the Holy Ghoft moft high, Reigneft while endless ages run. Breviary. LORD of eternal truth and might! Ruler of nature's changing scheme ! Who doft bring forth the morning light, And temper noon's effulgent beam : Quench Thou in us the flames of ftrife, And bid the heat of passion cease ; From perils guard our feeble life, And keep our souls in perfect peace. Breviary Matins. Rerum Deus tenax vigor. OTHOU true life of all that live! Who doft, unmoved, all motion sway ; Who doft the morn and evening give, And through its changes guide the day : Thy light upon our evening pour, — So may our souls no sunset see ; But death to us an open door To an eternal morning be. Father of mercies ! hear our cry ; Hear us, O sole-begotten Son ! Who, with the Holy Ghoft molt high, Reigneft while endless ages run. Breviary. LET us arise and watch ere dawn of light, And to the Lord our hearts and voices raise And meditate in psalms, and all unite In holy hymns of praise. So joining in the ftrains of saints on high Hereafter, in the courts of heaven's great King, May we be meet his praise eternally With them in bliss to sing. Breviary. 10 Matins. OTHOU the Father's Image bleft ! Who calleft forth the morning ray ; O Thou eternal Light of light ! And inexhauftive Fount of day ! True Sun ! upon our souls arise, Shining in beauty evermore ; And through each sense the quick'ning beam Of the eternal Spirit pour. Thee too, O Father, we entreat, Father of might and grace divine ! Father of glorious majefty ! Thy pitying eye on us incline. Confirm us in each good resolve ; The Tempter's envious rage subdue ; Turn each misfortune to our good ; Direct us right in all we do. Rule Thou our inmoft thoughts ; let no Impurity our hearts defile ; Grant us a true and fervent faith ; Grant us a spirit free from guile. May Chrift himself be our true Food, And Faith our daily cup supply ; Matins. While from the Spirit's tranquil depth We drink unfailing draughts of joy. Still ever with the peep of morn May saintly modefty attend ; Faith sanctify the midday hours ; Upon the soul no night descend. Fail breaks the dawn. — Each whole in Each, Come, Father bleft ! Come, Son moft high ! Shine in our souls, and be to them The dawn of immortality. Breviary. LO, fainter now lie spread the shades of night, And upward moot the trembling gleams of morn ; Suppliant we bend before the Lord of Light, And pray at early dawn, — That his sweet charity may all our fin Forgive, and make our miseries to cease ; May grant us health, grant us the gift divine Of everlafting peace. Breviary. Matins. 12 THE CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL AT SUNRISE SOIL not thy plumage, gentle dove, With sublunary things,— Till in the fount of light and love, Thou (halt have bathed thy wings. Shall Nature from her couch arise, And rise for thee in vain ? While heaven, and earth, and seas, and fkies, Such types of truth contain. See— where the Sun of Righteousness, Unfolds the gates of day : Go —meet Him in his glorious dress, And quaff the orient ray ! There, where ten thousand seraphs ftand, To crown the circling hours, — Soar thousand from that blifsful land Bring down unfading flowers: Some Rose of Sharon, dyed in blood, Some spice of Gilead's balm, Some lily warned in Calvary's flood, Some branch of heavenly palm! And let the drops of sparkling dew, From Siloa's spring be fhed, Matins. 13 To form a fragrance frefh and new, A halo round thy head. Spread then thy plumes of faith and prayer, Nor fear to wend away ; And let a glow of heavenly air, Gild every earthly day ! Brydges. Consors paterr.i luminis. PURE Light of light ! eternal Day ! Who doft the Father's brightness fhare Our chant the midnight silence breaks \ — Be nigh, and hearken to our prayer. Scatter the darkness of our minds, And turn the hofts of hell to flight ; Let not our souls in floth repose, And fleeping fink in endless night. O Chrift ! for thy dear mercy's sake, Spare us, who put our truft. in Thee ; Nor let our hymns ascend in vain To thy immortal Majesty. Breviary. 14 Matins. NOW, while the herald bird of day Proclaims the morning bright ; Chrift also, speaking in the soul, Wakes her to life and light. "Take up your beds," we hear Him say, " No more in (lumber lie ; In juftice, truth, and temperance, Keep watch ; — Your Lord is nigh." O Chrift ! and art Thou nigh indeed ? — Then let us watch and weep ; This truth but once in earneft felt Forbids the heart to fleep. Break, Lord, the spell that wraps us round In deadly bonds of night ; Shatter the chains of former guilt j Renew in us thy light. Breviary Matins. 1 5 Nox et tenebra et nub'ila. YE mift and darkness, cloud and ftorm, Confused creations of the night ; Light enters — morning ftreaks the fky — Chrift comes, — 'tis time ye take your flight. Pierced by the sun's ethereal dart, Night's gloomy mass is cleft in twain; And, in the smiling face of day, Nature resumes her tints again. O God, we know no sun but Thee ! Shine in our souls divinely bright ! We seek Thee in simplicity; Through all our senses shed thy light. A thousand objects all around In false delufive colors mine ; To purge them clear, we ask, O Lord, But one immortal beam of thine. Breviary, 1 6 Matins. Lux ecce surgit aurea. NOW with the rifing golden dawn, Let us, the children of the day, Cart off the darkness which so long Has led our guilty souls aftray. Oh, may the morn so pure, so clear, Its own sweet calm in us inftil ; A guileless mind, a heart fincere, Simplicity of word and will : And ever, as the day glides by, May we the busy senses rein ; Keep guard upon the hand and eye, Nor let the body suffer ftain. For all day long, on Heaven's high tower, There ftands a Sentinel, who spies Our every action, hour by hour, From early dawn till daylight dies. Breviary. f ^3 Matins. GRANT us a body pure within ; A wakeful heart, a ready will; Grant us, by no deep cherifh'd fin, The fervor of the soul to chill. Fill Thou our souls, Redeemer true ! With thy moft pure celeftial ray; So may we walk in safety through All the temptations of this day. Breviary. UPON our fainting souls diftil The grace of thy celeftial dew ; Let no fresh snare to fin beguile, No former fin revive anew. Grant us the grace, for love of Thee, To scorn all vanities below ; Faith to detect each falfity ; And knowledge, Thee alone to know. Breviary. i8 Mat ins. THE ftar that heralds in the morn Is fading in the fkies; The darkness melts \ — O Thou true Light ! Upon our souls arise. Steep all our senses in thy beam ; The world's false night expel ; Purge each defilement from the soul, And in our bosoms dwell. Come, early Faith ! fix in our hearts Thy root immovably ; Come, smiling Hope ! and, laft not lead, Immortal Charity ! Breviary. Fc'spt '9 VESPERS. CHRISTMAS VESPER HYMN. DEPART awhile, each thought of care. Be earthly things forgotten all ; And speak, my soul, thy vesper prayer ; Obedient to that sacred call. For hark ! the pealing chorus swells ; Devotion chants the hymn of praise, And now of joy and hope it tells, Till fainting on the ear, it says — Gloria tibi Domine, Domine, Domine. Thine, wondrous babe of Galilee ! Fond theme of David's harp and song, Thine are the notes of minftrelsy — To thee its ransom'd chords belong. And hark! again the chorus swells, The song is wafted on the breeze, And to the liftening earth it tells — In accents soft and sweet as these — Gloria tibi Domine. 20 Vespers. My heart doth feel that ftiil He's near, To meet the soul in hours like this, Else— why, O why, that falling tear! When all is peace and love and bliss. But hark ! that pealing chorus swells Anew, its thrilling vesper ftrain, And drill of joy and hope it tells, And bids creation fing again — Gloria tibi Domine. J. Hughes. OME, O Creator Spirit bleft ! And in our souls take up thy reft ; Come, with thy grace and heavenly aid, To fill the hearts which Thou haft made. c Kindle our senses from above, And make our hearts o'erflow with love ; With patience firm, and virtue high, The weakness of our flefti supply. Far from us drive the foe we dread, And grant us thy true peace inftead ; . So (hall we not, with Thee for guide, Turn from the path of life afide. Breviary. Vespers. 2 1 THE pall of night o'erihades the earth, And hides the tints of day \ — O Thou ! to whom no night comes near, Dread Judge ! to Thee we pray ! That Thou wilt all our guilt remove, And our loft peace reftore ; And of thy mercy grant that we May grieve thy heart no more. The guilty soul, which all too long In lethargy hath lain, Yearns to caft off her load, and seek Her Saviour's face again. Expel from her the darkness, Lord, Of her internal night ; Renew her bliss, — renew in her Thy beatific light. Breviary. 22 Vespers. ORD of eternal purity ! -*— ' Who doit, the world with light adorn, And paint the tracts of azure fky With lovely hues of eve and morn : Who didft command the sun to light His fiery wheel's effulgent blaze ; Didft set the moon her circuit bright ; The ftars their ever-winding maze : That, each within its order'd sphere, They might divide the night from day ; And of the seasons through the year, The well remember'd signs display : Scatter our night, eternal God, And kindle thy pure beam within ; Free us from guilt's oppreffive load, And break the deadly bonds of fin. B reviary. THEE iri the hymns of morn we praise ; To Thee our voice at eve we raise ; Oh, grant us, with thy Saints on high, Thee through all time to glorify. Breviary J Aspiration. 23 ASPIRATION. PERFECTION. OHOW the thought of God attrafts And draws the heart from earth, And fickens it of paffing mows And diilipating mirth ! 'Tis not enough to save our souls, To shun the eternal fires ; The thought of God will rouse the heart To more sublime defires. God only is the creature's home, Though long and rough the road ; Yet nothing less can satisfy The love that longs for God. O utter but the Name of God Down in your heart of hearts, And see how from the world at once All tempting light departs. *4 Aspiration. A trotting heart, a yearning eye, Can win their way above \ If mountains can be moved by faith, Is there less power in love ? How little of that road, my soul ! How little haft thou gone! Take heart, and let the thought of God Allure thee further on. The freedom from all wilful fin, The Chriftian's daily talk,— O these are graces far below What longing love would afk ! Dole not thy duties out to God, But let thy hand be free : Look long at Jesus ; his sweet Blood, How was it dealt to thee ? The perfea way is hard to flefh j It is not hard to love j If thou wert fick for want of God, How swiftly wouldft thou move ! Good is the cloifter's filent (hade, Cold watch and pining faft ; Better the miflions wearing ftrifc, If there thy lot be call:. Aspiration. 25 Yet none of these perfection needs : — Keep thy heart calm all day, And catch the words the Spirit there From hour to hour may say. O keep thy conscience senfitive ; No inward token miss ; And go where grace entices thee ; — Perfection lies in this. Be docile to thine unseen Guide, Love Him as He loves thee ; Time and obedience are enough, And thou a saint malt be ! Faber. 26 Aspiration. THE ETERNAL FATHER. OHOW I fear Thee, living God ! With deepeft, tendered fears, And worfhip Thee with trembling hope, And penitential tears. Yet I may love Thee too, O Lord ! Almighty as Thou art, For Thou haft ftooped to afk of me The love of my poor heart. O then this worse than worthless heart In pity deign to take, And make it love Thee for thyself And for thy glory's sake. No earthly father loves like Thee, No mother half so mild Bears and forbears, as Thou haft done, With me thy finful child. Only to fit and think of God — O what a joy it is ! To think the thought, to breathe the Name- Earth has no higher bliss ! Asp i ration. 27 Father of Jesus ! love's Reward ! What rapture will it be Proftrate before thy throne to lie, And gaze and gaze on Thee ! Faber. PECCATOR AD CHRISTUM. MY spirit longeth for Thee To dwell within my breaft ; Although I am unworthy Of so divine a Gueft ! Of so divine a Gueft — Unworthy though I be ; Yet hath my heart no reft Until it come to Thee ! Until it come to Thee, — In vain I look around ; In all that I can see, No rest is to be found ! No reft is to be found, But in thy bleeding love : Oh! let my wifh be crown'd, And send it from above ! rydgei 28 Aspiration. CHRISTUS AD PECCATOREM. CHEER up, desponding soul, Thy longing pleased I see : 'Tis part of that great whole, Wherewith I long'd for thee ! Wherewith I long'd for thee, And left my Father's throne ; From death to set thee free, And claim thee for my own ! To claim thee for my own, I suffer'd on the cross : Oh ! were my love but known, All else would be as dross ! All else would be as dross ! And souls, through grace divine, Would count their gains but loss, To live forever mine ! Brydges. Self -Consecration. 29 SELF-CONSECRATION. FAITH OF OUR FATHERS. FAITH of our Fathers ! living ftill In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword : Oh how our hearts beat high with joy Whene'er we hear that glorious word : Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! We will be true to thee till death ! Our Fathers, chain'd in prisons dark, Were ftill in heart and conscience free : How sweet would be their children's fate, If they, like them, could die for thee ! Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! We will be true to thee till death ! Faith of our Fathers ! we will love Both friend and foe in all our ftrife : And preach thee too, as love knows how By kindly words and virtuous life : Faith of our Fathers ! Holy Faith ! We will be true to thee till death ! Faber. 3° Self-Ccnsecraticn. THE VOW. BRIGHT Angels who attend Around our altar now, Your wonted cares suspend, Lift to the holy Vow, Which, while the sacrifice Of Heaven's eternal love, Pleads for us every grace, Is heard in heaven above. Jesus! my happy heart Now gives itself to Thee, O ! never hence depart, Reign here eternally. Thy sacred name alone, All my delight shall prove -, No joy my soul mail own, But in thy holy love. And, oh ! in after years, When life is fading faft, When flow repentant tears, Cancelling errors paft, Still fhall that holy vow, Be breathed to Heaven, And fervently as now, My heart to Thee be given. Self-Consecration. 41 HYMN FOR CONFIRMATION. MY God, accept my heart this day, And make it always thine, — That I from Thee no more may ftray, No more from Thee decline. Before the cross of Him who died, Behold I proftrate fall : Let every fin be crucified, — Let Chrift be all in all ! Anoint me with thy heavenly grace, Adopt me for thine own, — That I may see thy glorious face, And worfhip at thy throne ! May the dear blood, once fhed for me, My bleft atonement prove, — That I from firfr to laft may be The purchase of thy love ! Let every thought, and work, and word, To Thee be ever given,-— Then life fhall be thy service, Lord, And death the gate of heaven. Erydges. 32 Self-Consecration. JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. Crux sublata. Matt. xvi. 24. JESUS, — I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee j I am poor, despised, forsaken, — Thou henceforth my all malt be : Perish every fond ambition, — All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; Yet how rich is my condition, — God and heaven are frill mine own ! Let the world despise and leave me, It has left my Saviour too ; Human hearts and looks deceive me, Thou art not like them untrue : Whilft thy graces fhall adorn me, God of wisdom, love, and might, — Foes may hate, and friends may scorn me Show thy face, and all is bright. Go then, — earthly fame and treasure, Come, disafter, scorn, and pain ; In thy service, pain is pleasure,— With thy favor, loss is gain. I have called Thee, Abba Father ! I have set mv heart on Thee : Self- Con seer a tlon . -> -> Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, All will work for good to me. Man may trouble and diftress me, 'Twill but drive me to thy breaft ; Life with trials hard may press me Heaven will bring me sweeter reft. Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me While thy love is left to me ; — Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee ! Soul, — then know thy full salvation, Rise o'er fin, and fear, and care j Joy to find in every ftation, Something ftill to do or bear. Think what spirit dwells within thee, Think what Father's smiles are thine; Think that Jesus died to win thee : Child of heaven, cans't thou repine ? Hafte thee on from grace to glorv, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer- Heaven's eternal days before thee, God's own hand fhall guide thee there. Soon fhall close thine earthly miffion, Patience fhall thy spirit raise; Hope fhall change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise ! 34 Self-Consecrati CONVERSION. O FAITH ! thou worked miracles Upon the hearts of men, Choofing thy home in those same hearts, We know not how or when. To one thy grave unearthly truths A heavenly vifion seem ; While to another's eye they are A superfluous dream. To one the deepen 1 : doctrines look So naturally true, That when he learns the lefTon firft He hardly thinks it new. To other hearts the selfsame truths No light or heat can bring ; They are but puzzling phrases ftrung Like beads upon a firing. O Gift of Gifts ! O Grace of Faith ! My God ! how can it be That Thou, who haft discerning love, Should'ft give that gift to me ? Self ^'Consecration, 35 There was a place, there was a time, Whether by night or day, Thy Spirit came and left that gift, And went upon his way. How many hearts Thou might'ft have had More innocent than mine ! How many souls more worthy far Of that sweet touch of thine ! Ah Grace ! into unlikelieft hearts It is thy boaft to come, The glory of thy light to find In darken 1 spots a home. How will they die, how will they die, How bear the cross of grief, Who have not got the light of faith, The courage of belief? The crowd of cares, the weightieft cross Seem trifles less than light, — Earth looks so little and so low When faith fhines full and bright. O happy, happy that I am ! If thou canft be, O Faith ! The treasure that thou art in life, What wilt thou be in death ? ~r ' 36 Self-Consecration. Thy choice, O God of Goodness ! then I lovingly adore ; O give me grace to keep thy grace, And grace to merit more ! Fa her. PRAYER OF THE CONTRITE SINNER. HAVE mercy Thou, mod gracious God ! And my remittance fign ; The more thy mercy mall accord, The greater glory thine. Thou surely haft not said in vain : " More joy in heaven is made, For the loft fheep that's found again, Than those which never stray'd." Help'd by thy grace, no more I'll stray, No more refift thy voice ; Where Thou, good Shepherd, lead'ft the way, That way fhall be my choice. Too long, alas ! my wand'ring feet The crooked paths have trod ; Henceforth I'll follow, as is meet, The sure unerring road. Self- Consecration . 3 7 If casual falls retard my pace, With speed again I'll rise ; With speed I'll reassume my race, And run and gain the prize. All praise, O Lord, to Thee alone, Below, as 'tis above : And may thy joys, Eternal One, Both draw and crown my love. HYMN OF ST. FRANCIS XAVIER. O Deus, ego amo Te. 1\ /TY God, I love Thee, not because -*•*-!« I hope for Heaven thereby; Nor because they who love Thee not, Must burn eternally. Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didft me Upon the Cross embrace ; For me didft bear the nails and spear, And manifold disgrace ; And griefs and torments numberless ; And sweat of agony ; E'en death itself — and all for one Who was thine enemy. ~g Self-Consecration. Then why, O bleffed Jesu Chrift ! Should I not love Thee well; Not for the sake of winning Heaven, Or of escaping Hell : Not with the hope of gaining aught ; Not seeking a reward ; But, as Thyself haft loved me, O ever-loving Lord ? E'en so I love Thee, and will love, And in thy praise will fing ; Solely because Thou art my God, And my eternal King. Missal. Trust. 39 TRUST. THE RIGHT MUST WIN. OIT is hard to work for God, To rise and take his part Upon this battle-field of earth, Ana not sometimes lose heart! He hides Himself so wondroufly, As though there were no God ; He is leaft seen when all the powers Of ill are moft abroad : Or He deserts us at the hour The fight is all but loft ; And seems to leave us to ourselves Juft when we need Him moft. O there is less to try our faith, In our myfterious creed, Than in the godless look of earth In these our hours of need. 4C Trust. Ill mailers good ; good seems to change- To ill with greateft ease ; And, worft of all, the good with good Is at cross purposes. The Church, the Sacraments, the Faith, Their uphill journey take, Lose here what there they gain, and, if We lean upon them, break. It is not so, but so it looks ; And we lose courage then ; And doubts will come if God hath kept His promises to men. Ah ! God is other than we think ; His ways are far above, Far beyond reason's height, and reach'd Only by childlike love. The look, the fafhion of God's ways Love's lifelong ftudy are ; She can be bold, and guess, and aft, When reason would not dare. She has a prudence of hex own ; Her ftep is firm and free ; Yet there is cautious science too In her simplicity. Trust. 41 Workman of God ! O lose not heart, But learn what God is like ; And in the darkeft battle-field Thou (halt know where to ftrike. O bless'd is he to whom is given The inftinct that can tell That God is on the field, when He Is molt invisible ! And bless'd is he who can divine Where real right doth lie, And dares to take the side that seems Wrong to man's blindfold eve ! O learn to scorn the praise of men ! O learn to lose with God ! For Jesus won the world through fhame, And beckons thee his road. God's glory is a wondrous thing, Aloft ftrange in all its ways, And, of all things on earth, leaft like What men agree to praise. As He can endless glory weave From time's misjudging shame, In his own world He is content To play a lofing game. 42 Trust. Muse on his juftice, downcaft Soul! Muse and take better heart ; Back with thine angel to the field, Good luck (hall crown thy part! God's juftice is a bed where we Our anxious hearts may lay, And, weary with ourselves, may sleep Our discontent away. For right is right, since God is God ; And right the day muft win ; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin! Faber. Trust. 43 SURSUM CORDA. LIFT up your hearts!" Yes, I will lift My heart and soul, dear Lord, to Thee Who every good and perfect gift Vouchsaf'ft so lavifhly and free. All that is ben 1 , from Thee comes down On us, with rich and ample ftore, Thy bounteous hands our wifhes crown With good, increasing more and more. 'Twas Thou that gave us life and breath, It is thy hand that holds us frill, That keeps us from the fleep of death, And fhelters us from every ill. Yea, more than corporal life, — thy love Has promise given of life to come ; And taught us, by the faith, above All ills to soar, and burft the tomb. Then, while I live, with ardent eye, Let me look up to Thee, and learn, From blefiings here^ to look on high, And purer blemngs there discern ! 44 Trust. All Thou haft given is thine, then take Me, thine own gift, for all thine own, And teach me every day to make New vows of love to Thee alone! GOD AND HEAVEN. THE silver chord in twain is snapp'd The golden bowl is broken, The mortal mould in darkness wrapp'd, The words funereal spoken ; The tomb is built, or the rock is cleft, Or delved is the grafTy clod, And what for mourning man is left ? O what is left — but God ! The tears are fhed that mourn'd the dead, The flowers they wore are faded ; The twilight dun hath veil'd the sun, And hope's sweet dreamings fhaded : And the thoughts of joy that were planted deep, From our heart of hearts are riven ; And what is left us when we weep ? O what is left — but Heaven ! Trust. 45 THE WILL OF GOD. 11 Thy iv ill be done." I WORSHIP thee, sweet Will of God! And all thy ways adore, And every day I live I seem To Jove thee more and more. Thou wert the end, the blefTed rule Of Jesu's toils and tears ; Thou wert the paflion of his Heart Those Three-and-Thirty years. And He hath breathed into my soul A special love of thee, A love to lose my will in his And by that loss be free. I love to see thee bring to naught The plans of wily men ; When fimple Hearts outwit the wise, O thou art loveliest then ! The headftrong world, it preffes hard Upon the Church full oft, And then how eafily thou turn'ft The hard ways into soft. 4 6 Trust. I love to kiss each print where thou Haft set thine unseen feet : I cannot fear thee, bleiTed Will! Thine empire is so sweet. When obftacles and trials seem Like prison-walls to be, I do the little 1 can do, And leave the reft to thee. I have no cares, O bleiTed Will! For all my cares are thine ; I live in triumph, Lord! for Thou Haft made thy triumphs mine. And when it seems no chance or change From grief can set me free, Hope finds its ftrength in helplelTness, And gaily waits on thee. Man's weakness waiting upon God Its end can never miss, For men on earth no work can do More angel-like than this. Ride on, ride on triumphantly, Thou glorious Will! ride on; Faith's pilgrim sons behind thee take The road that thou haft gone. Trust, 47 He always wins who sides with God, To him no chance is loft ; God's will is sweetest to him when It triumphs at his coft. Ill that He blefles is our good, And unbleft good is ill ; And all is right that seems moft wrong, If it be His sweet Will ! Faber. Dies ira, dies ilia. [Crashaw's Translation.] HEAR'ST thou, my soul, what serious things Both the Psalm and Sibyl fings, Of a sure Judge, from whose fharp ray The world in flames fhall pass away ? O that fire ! before whose face, Heaven and Earth fhall find no place ; O these eyes! whose angry light Muft be the day of that dread night. O that trump ! whose blaft fhall run An even round with th' circling sun, And urge the murmuring graves to bring Pale mankind forth to meet his King. 48 Trust. Horror of nature, hell and death ! When a deep groan as from beneath Shall cry, " We come ! we come ! " and all The caves of night answer one call. O that book! whose leaves so bright, Will set the world in severe light : O that Judge ! whose hand, whose eye, None can endure — yet none can fly. Ah ! thou poor soul, what wilt thou say? And to what patron choose to pray ? When ftars themselves mall ftagger, and The moft firm foot no more than ftand. But thou giveft leave, dread Lord, that we Take fhelter from Thyself in Thee ; And, with the wings of thine own dove, Fly to the sceptre of soft love. «lt Trust. 49 MY GOD AND MY ALL. Deus metis ct omnia. WHILE Thou, O my God, art my help and defender, No cares can o'erwhelm me, no terrors appall ; The wiles and the snares of this world will but render More lively my hope in my God and my all. Yes ; Thou art my refuge in sorrow and danger ; My ftrength when I suffer ; my hope when I fall ; My comfort and joy in this land of the ftranger ; My treasure, my glory, my God, and my all. To Thee, deareft Lord, will I turn without ceaiing, Though grief may oppress me, or sorrow befall ; And love Thee, till death, my bleft spirit releafing, Secures to me Jesus, my God and my all. And when Thou demandeft the life Thou haft given, With joy will I answer thy merciful call ; And quit Thee on earth, but to find Thee in heaven, My portion forever, my God and my all. W. Young. 50 Prayi PRAYER. Tclluris alme conditor. O BOUNTEOUS Framer of the globe ! Who with thy mighty hand Didft gather up the rolling seas, And firmly base the land : That so the frefhly teeming earth Might herb and seedling bear, Standing in early beauty gay, With flowers and fruitage fair : On our parch'd souls pour Thou, O Lord, The frefhness of thy grace ; So penitence fhall spring anew, And all the pad: efface. Grant us to fear thy holy law, To feel thy goodness nigh ; Grant us through life thy peace; in death Thine immortality. Breviary. Prayer. 5 1 WHIT-SUNDAY. Veni Sancte Spiritus. HOLY Spirit ! Lord of light ! From thy clear celeftial height, Thy pure beaming radiance give : Come, Thou Father of the poor ! Come, with treasures which endure ! Come, Thou Light of all that live ; Thou, of all consolers bed, Vifiting the troubled breaft, Doft refrefhing peace beftow ; Thou in toil art comfort sweet ; Pleasant coolness in the heat ; Solace in the midft of woe. Light immortal ! light divine ! Vifit Thou these hearts of thine, And our inmoft being fill : If Thou take thy grace away, Nothing pure in man will fray ; All his good is turned to ill. 52 Prayer. Heal our wounds, — our fhength renew j On our dryness pour thy dew ; Warn the ftains of guilt away : Bend the ftubborn heart and will \ Melt the frozen, warm the chill ; Guide the fteps that go aftray. Thou, on those who evermore Thee confess and Thee adore, In thy sevenfold gifts, descend : Give them comfort when they die ; Give them life with Thee on hi^h ; Give them joys which never end. Vem Creator. Missal. CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations firft were laid. Come vifit every pious mind ; Come pour thy joys on human kind ; From fin and sorrow set us free And make thy temples worthy Thee. O source of uncreated li^ht o The Father's promised Paraclete ! Prayer. 53 Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire : Come, and thy sacred unction bring, To sanctify us while we fing. Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in thy sevenfold energy ! Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand, Whose power does heaven and earth command, Proceeding Spirit, our defence, Who doft the gift of tongues dispense, And crown thy gift with eloquence ! Refine and purge our earthly parts : But oh ! inflame and fire our hearts : Our frailties help, our vice control — Submit the senses to the soul : And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold them down. Chase from our minds th' infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, beftow ; And left our feet mould ftep aftray, Protect and guide us in the way. Make us eternal truth receive, And practise all that we believe : Give us Thyself, that we may see The Father, and the Son, bv Thee. Tr • anjiated by Dry den. 54 Prayer. LENT. Audi benigne Conditor. THOU loving Maker of mankind, Before thy throne we pray and weep j Oh, ftrengthen us with grace divine, Duly this sacred Lent to keep. Searcher of hearts ! Thou doft our ills Discern, and all our weakness know: Again to Thee with tears we turn; Again to us thy mercy mow. Much have we finn'd j but we confess Our guilt, and all our faults deplore : Oh, for the praise of thy great Name, Our fainting souls to health reftore ! And grant us, while by fafts we drive This mortal body to control, To faft from all the food of fin, And so to purify the soul. Hear us, O Trinity thrice bleft ! Sole Unity! to Thee we cry: Vouchsafe us from these fafts below To reap immortal fruit on high. Breviary. Vjft 55 Magna Deus potentia. LORD of all power! at whose command, The waters, from their teeming womb, Brought forth the countless tribes of fifh, And birds of every note and plume : Who didft, for natures link'd in birth, Far different homes of old prepare ; Sinking the fifties in the sea ; Lifting the birds aloft in air. Lo ! born of thy baptismal wave, We ask of Thee, O Lord divine ! "Keep us, whom Thou haft sanctified In thy own Blood, forever thine. " Safe from all pride, as from despair ; Not sunk too low, nor raised too high Left raised by pride, we headlong fall ; Sunk in despair, lie down and die." B> wry. 56 Encouragement, ENCOURAGEMENT. JESUS. THE light of love is round his feet, His paths are never dim ; And He comes nigh to us when we Dare not come nigh to Him. Let us be simple with Him then, Not backward, ftiff, or cold, As though our Bethlehem could be What Sinai was of old. His love of us may teach us how To love Him in return ; Love cannot help but grow more free The more its transports burn. The solemn face, the downcaft eye, The words conftrain'd and cold, — These are the homage, poor at beft, Of those outfide the fold. Encouragement, 57 O that they knew what Jesus was, And what untold abyss Lies in love's fimple forwardness Of more than earthly bliss ! O that they knew what faith can work ! What Sacraments can do ! What fimple love is like, on fire In hearts absolved and true ! How can they tell but Jesus oft His secret thirft will flake, On those ftrange freedoms childlike hearts Are taught by God to take ? Poor souls! they know not how to love; They feel not Jesus near ; And they who know not how to love Still less know how to fear. The humbling of the Incarnate Word They have not faith to face ; And how shall they who have not faith Attain love's better grace? The awe that lies too deep for words, Too deep for solemn looks, — It finds no way into the face, No spoken vent in books. 5* Encouragement. They would not speak in measured tones, If love had in them wrought Until their spirits had been hufh'd In reverential thought. They would have smiled in playful ways To ease their fervid heart, And learn'd with other fimple souls To play love's crafty part. They would have run away from God For their own vileness' sake, And fear'd left some interior light From tell-tale eyes mould break. They know not how the outward smile The inward awe can prove ; They fathom not the creature's fear Of Uncreated Love. The majefty of God ne'er broke On them like fire at night, Flooding their ftricken souls, while they Lay trembling in the light. They love not ; for they have not kiss'd The Saviour's outer hem : They fear not ; for the Living God Is yet unknown to them ! faber. Encouragement. 59 SOLDIERS of Chrift! arise! And put your armor on, Strong in the ftrength which God supplies Through his eternal Son ; Strong is the Lord of hofts, And in his mighty power, Who in the ftrength of Jesus trufts, Is more than conqueror. Soldiers of Chrift ! arise ! The God of armies calls Unto his manfions in the fkies — His everlafting halls : Behold ! the angel hoft appears To welcome you to bliss ; Oh ! what is earth, its fighs, and tears, Its joys compared to this ! Crufh'd is the haughty foe, His might, his glory gone, But ye with victory crown'd, mall go To Chrift's eternal throne. There fhall the conqueror reft, And in that bleft abode, Forever reign amid the bleft, Triumphant with his God. 6o Encouragement. MARY MAGDALEN. TO the hall of the feaft came the finful and fair ; She heard in the city that Jesus was there ; She mark'd not the splendor that blazed on their board ; But filently knelt at the feet of her Lord. The hair from her forehead, so sad and so meek, Hung dark o'er the blushes that bum'd on her cheek ; And so ftill and so lowly fhe bent in her fhame, It seem'd as her spirit had flown from its frame. The frown and the murmur went round through them all, That one so unhallow'd mould tread in that hall ; And some said the poor would be objects more meet For the wealth of the perfumes fhe fhower'd at his feet. She mark'd but her Saviour, fhe spoke but in fighs, She dared not look up to the heaven of his eyes ; And the hot tears gufh'd forth at each heave of her breaft, As her lips to his sandals fhe throbbingly prefFd. On the cloud, after tempefts, as fhineth the bow, In the glance of the sun-beam, as melteth the snow, He look'd on that loft one — her fins were forgiven \ And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven. Callanan. Self- Ex amino tion . 6 1 SELF-EXAMINATION. THE GIFTS OF GOD. MY soul J what haft thou done for God ? Look o'er thy 'miflpent years and see ; Sum up what thou haft done for God, And then what God hath done for thee. He made thee when He might have made A soul that would have loved Him more ; He rescued thee from nothingness, And set thee on life's happy more. He placed an angel at thy fide, And ftrewed joys round thee on thy way ; He gave thee rights thou couldft not claim, And life, free life, before thee lay. Had God in heaven no work to do But miracles of love for thee ? No world to rule, no joy in Self And in his own infinity ? 5 2 . Self- Examination. So muft it seem to our blind eyes : He gave his love no Sabbath reft, Still plotting happiness for men, And new defigns to make them bleft. From out his glorious Bosom came His only, his Eternal Son ; He freed the race of Satan's slaves, And with his Blood fin's captives won. The world rose up againft his love ; New love the vile rebellion met, As though God only look'd at fin Its guilt to pardon and forget. For his Eternal Spirit came To raise the thankless naves to sons, And with the sevenfold gifts of love To crown his own elected ones. Men spurned his grace ; their lips blasphemed The love that made itself their Have : They grieved that bleffed Comforter, And turned againft Him what He gave. Yet ftill the sun is fair by day, The moon ftill beautiful by night; The world goes round, and joy with it, And life, free life, is man's delight. Self- Examination . 6 3 No voice God's wondrous filence breaks, No hand put forth his anger tells ; But He, the Omnipotent and Dread, On high in humbleft patience dwells. The Son hath come ; and maddened fin The world's Redeemer crucified ; The Spirit comes, and flays, while men His presence doubt, his gifts deride. And now the Father keeps Himself In patient and forbearing love, To be his creature's heritage In that undying life above. O wonderful, O pafling thought, The love that God hath had for thee ! Spending on thee no less a sum Than the Undivided Trinity ! Father, and Son, and Holy Ghoft, Exhaufted for a thing like this, — The world's whole government disposed For one ungrateful creature's bliss ! What haft thou done for God, my soul r Look o'er thy mifTpent years and see ; Cry from thy worse than nothingness, Cry for his mercy upon thee! Faber. 64 Self-E xamination. SWEETNESS IN PRAYER. WHY doft thou beat so quick, my heart? Why ftruggle in thy cage? What mail I do for thee, poor heart! Thy throbbing heat to suage ? What spell is this come over thee ? My soul ! what sweet surprise ? And wherefore these unbidden tears That ftart into mine eyes ? How are my paffions laid to fleep, How easy penance seems ! And how the bright world fades away — are they all but dreams ? How great, how good does God appear, How dear our holy faith ! How tafteless life's beft joys have grown ! How I could welcome death ! Thy sweetness hath betrayed Thee, Lord! Dear Spirit ! it is Thou ; Deeper and deeper in my heart 1 feel Thee nettling now. Self- Exam {nation . 65 Whence Thou hail come I need not afk ; But, O moft gentle Dove ! O wherefore haft Thou lit on one That so repays thy love ? Ah ! that Thou mighteft ftay with me, Or else that I might die While heart and soul are ftill subdued With thy sweet maftery. Thy home is with the humble, Lord! The fimple are thy reft ; Thy lodging is in childlike hearts ; Thou makeft there thy neft. Dear Comforter ! Eternal Love ! If Thou wilt ftay with me, Of lowly thoughts and fimple ways I'll build a neft for Thee. My heart, sweet Dove! I'll lend to Thee To mourn with at thy will ; My tongue {hall be thy lute to try On Tinners' souls thy fkill. Who made this beating heart of mine, But Thou my heavenly Gueft ? Let no one have it then but Thee, And let it be thy neft. Faber. 66 Self- Examination . DRYNESS IN PRAYER. OFOR the happy days gone by, When love ran smooth and free, Days when my Spirit so enjoy'd More than earth's liberty! O for the times when on my heart Long prayer had never pall'd, Times when the ready thought of God Would come when it was call'd ! Then when I knelt to meditate, Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, Countless and bright and beautiful, Bevond my own control. O who hath lock'd those fountains up ? Those vifions who hath ftay'd ? What sudden act hath thus transform'd My sunfhine into fhade ? This freezing heart, O Lord! this will Dry as the desert sand, Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts That come without command, — Self- Ex (un in at ion. 6 J A faith that seems not faith, a hope That cares not for its aim, A love that none the hotter grows At Jesu's blefled name, — The weariness of prayer, the mift O'er conscience overspread, The chill repugnance to frequent The Feaft of Angels' Bread : — If this drear change be thine, O Lord ! If it be thy sweet will, Spare not, but to the very brim The bitter chalice fill. But if it hath been fin of mine, O mow that fin to me, Not to get back the sweetness loft, But to make peace with Thee. One thing alone, dear Lord ! I dread ;— To have a secret spot That separates my soul from Thee, And yet to know it not. I when So ful know, I did the tide of graces set upon my heart, dear Lord ! how faithlessly my little part. 68 Self-Examinat'u I know how well my heart hath earn'd A chaftisement like this, In trifling many a grace away In self-complacent bliss. But if this weariness hath come A present from on high, Teach me to find the hidden wealth That in its depths may lie. So in this darkness I can learn To tremble and adore, To sound my own vile nothingness, And thus to love Thee more, — To love Thee, and yet not to think That I can love so much, — To have Thee with me, Lord ! all day, Yet not to feel thy touch. If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, Hire which thy beauty fhow'd, Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught, And only as my God. O blefled be this darkness then, This deep in which I lie, And blefled be all things that teach God's great supremacy. Fain Self- Examination. 69 DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER. AH ! cleared Lord ! I cannot pray, My fancy is not free ; Unmannerly diffractions come, And force my thoughts from Thee. The world that looks so dull all day Glows bright on me at prayer, And plans that afk no thought but then Wake up and meet me there. All nature one full fountain seems Of dreamy fight and sound, Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps, And makes a deluge round. Old voices murmur in my ear, New hopes ftart into life, And paft and future gayly blend In one bewitching ftrife. My very flefh has reftless fits; My changeful limbs conspire With all these phantoms of the mind My inner self to tire. 7 Self- Examination, I cannot pray*; yet, Lord! Thou know'ft The pain it is to me To have my vainly-ftruggling thoughts Thus torn away from Thee. Prayer was not meant for luxury, Or selfifh paftime sweet ; It is the proftrate creature's place At his Creator's feet. Had I, dear Lord ! no pleasure found But in the thought of Thee, Prayer would have come unsought, and been A truer liberty. Yet Thou art oft moft present, Lord ! In weak diftrafted prayei j A finner out of heart with self Moft often finds Thee there. And prayer that humbles, sets the soul From all illufions free, And teaches it how utterly, Dear Lord ! it hangs on Thee. The soul, that on self-sacrifice Is dutifully bent, Will bless thy chaftening hand that makes Its prayer its punifhment. Self-Examination. 71 Ah, Jesus! why mould I complain? And why fear aught but fin ? Detractions are but outward things ; Thy peace dwells far within! These surface-troubles come and go, Like rufflings of the sea ; The deeper depth is out of reach To all, my God, but Thee ! Faber. PREPARATIVE TO PRAYER. WHEN thou doft talk with God — by prayer I mean — Lift up pure hands, lay down all luft's defires ; Fix thoughts on heaven, present a conscience clean : Since holy blame to mercy's throne aspires, Confess faults' guilt, crave pardon for thy fin, Tread holy paths, call grace to guide therein. It is the spirit with reverence must obey Our Maker' s will, to practise what He taught : Make not the flefh thy council when thou pray; , T is enemy to every virtuous thought ; It is the foe we daily feed and clothe ; It is the prison that the soul doth loathe. 72 Self- Examination. Even as Elias, mounting to the fky, Did call his mantle to the earth behind ; So, when the heart presents the prayer on high, Exclude the world from traffic with the mind : Lips near to God, and ranging heart within, Is but vain babbling, and converts to fin. As Abraham, ascending up the hill To sacrifice ; his servants left below, That he might act the great Commanders will, Without impeach to his obedient blow ; Even so the soul, remote from earthly things, Should mount salvation's fhelter — mercy's wings. Southwell, Christ. 73 CHRIST. PASTOR ANIMARUM. (From the Spanish.) COME, wandering fheep, O come! I'll bind thee to my breaft ; I'll bear thee to thy home, And lay thee down to reft. I saw thee ftray forlorn, And heard thee faintly cry, And on the tree of scorn For thee I deign'd to die — What greater proof could I Give, — than to seek the tomb ? Come, wandering fheep, O come ! I fhield thee from alarms, And wilt thou not be bleft ? I bear thee in my arms ; Thou, bear me in thy breaft ! O, this is love — come, reft — This is a blissful doom. Come, wandering fheep, O come ! 74 Christ. DOMUS AUREA. LIGHT! Light! Infinite Light! The mountains melted away : Ten thousand thousand seraphim bright Were loft in a blaze of day : For God was there, and beneath his feet A pavement of sapphires glow'd,* As the mirror of glory transcendantly meet To reflect his own abode ! Love ! Love ! Infinite Love ' The lowly Lady of grace Bows underneath the o'erfhadowing Dove, Her eternal Son to embrace ! For God is there, the Ancient of Days, An Infant of human years : Whilft angels around them inceflantly gaze, And nature is wrapt in tears ! Peace ! Peace ! Infinite Peace ! A Golden House hath it found, Whose ineffable beauty muft ever increase With immortality crown'd ! For God was there, the Lord of the skies, Whose loud alleluias ran, From heaven to earth, — as Emmanuel lies In the arms of Mary for man ! Li . * Exodus xxiv. 10. Christ. 75 Jesu dulcis memoria. JESU ! the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills my breaft ; But sweeter far thy face to see, And in thy presence reft. Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, Nor can the memory find, A sweeter sound than thy bleft 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 Nor tongue nor pen can show : The love of Jesus, what it is, None but his loved ones know. Jesus ! our only joy be Thou, As Thou our prize wilt be ; Jesus ! be Thou our glory now, And through eternity. Breviary. 7 6 Christ. Jesu Rex admirab'ilis. O JESUS ! King moft wonderful ! Thou Conqueror renown'd ! Thou Sweetness moft ineffable ! In whom all joys are found ! When once Thou vifiteft the heart, Then truth begins to mine ; Then earthly vanities depart j Then kindles love divine. O Jesu ! Light of all below ! Thou Fount of life and fire ! Surpafling all the joys we know, All that we can defire : May every heart confess thy name, And ever Thee adore ; And seeking Thee, itself inflame To seek Thee more and more. Thee may our tongues forever bless ; Thee may we love alone ; And ever in our lives express The imaire of thine own. B reviary Christ. 77 Jesu dccus angelicum. f~\ JESU ! Thou the beauty art ^S Of angel worlds above ; Thy name is mufic to the heart, Enchanting it with love. Celeftial sweetness unalloy'd ! Who eat Thee hunger ftill ; Who drink of Thee ftill feel a void, Which naught but Thou can fill. O my sweet Jesu ! hear the fighs Which unto Thee I send ; To Thee mine inmoft spirit cries, My being's hope and end ! Stay with us, Lord, and with thy light Illume the soul's abyss ; Scatter the darkness of our night, And fill the world with bliss. O Jesu ! spotless Virgin flower ! Our life and joy ! to Thee Be praise, beatitude, and power, Through all eternity. Bre •viary. Christ. Marentes oculi spargite lachrymas. NOW let us fit and weep, And fill our hearts with woe : Pondering the fhame, and torments deep, Which Chrift from wicked men did undergo. See ! how the multitude, With swords and ftaves, draw nigh : See ! how they smite, with buffets rude, That head divine of awful majefty : How, bound with cruel cord, Chrift to the scourge is given ; And ruffians lift their hands, unawed, Againft the King of Kings and Lord of Heaven. Then roughly dragg'd to death, Chrift on the Cross is flain ; And, as He dies, with parting breath, Into his Father's hands gives back his soul again. To Him who so much bore, To gain for Tinners grace, Be praise and glory evermore, From the whole universal human race. Breviary, Christ. >