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And as a star

Unto our healed and illumined eyes, So to our ears thy voice in mercy cries "Epaphatha."

And then thy word

Is to us even as thy deathless voice,
For ever present, making us rejoice
In thee, our Lord.

There is a death

That centres in the heart, a sleep of soul,
Torpid beneath sin's incubus control;
No living breath

Stirs that profound :

The spirit is a corpse, nor ear, nor eye,
Nor sense, nor feeling, know their liberty,-
But all are bound.

Though in the grave,

Like Lazarus, we lie mingled and blent
With foul corruption, our own element-
Thou com'st to save.

Upon the earth

The tear of mercy falls: thy voice still cries "Come forth," and then the Spirit joys to rise In its new birth.

Alone in thee

It lives, for thou its resurrection art,

And at thy word into new life will start

Heal'd, saved, and free.

W. MARTIN.

86

HYMN OF HEAVENLY I.OVE.

O BLESSED well of love! O flower of grace!
O glorious morning star! O lamp of light!
Most lively image of the Father's face,
Eternal King of glory, Lord of might,

Meek Lamb of God, before all worlds behight,*
How can we thee requite for all this good?
Or who can prize that thy most precious blood?
Yet nought thou ask'st in lieu of all this love,
But love of us, for guerdon of thy pain:
Aye me! what can us less than that behove?
Had he required life for us again,

Had it been wrong to ask his own with gain?
He gave us life, he it restored lost;

Then life were least, that us so little cost.

But he our life hath left unto us free,

Free that was thrall, and blessed that was band;
He nought demands, but that we loving be,
As he himself hath loved us aforehand.
And bound thereto with an eternal band,
Him first to love, that was so dearly bought,
And next, our brethren to his image wrought.

Him first to love, great right and reason is,
Who first to us our life and being gave;
And after, when we fared had amiss,

Us wretches from the second death did save:
Even he, himself, in his dear sacrament,
To feed our hungry souls, unto us lent.

Then next, to love our brethren, that were made
Of that self mould, and that self Maker's kind,

• Behight, promised.

As we; and to the same again shall fade,
Where they shall have like heritage of land,
However here on higher steps we stand;
Which also were with self-same price redeem'd
As we, however of us light esteem'd.

And were they not? yet sith that loving Lord
Commanded us to love them for his sake,
Ev'n for his sake, and for his sacred word,
Which in his last bequest he to us spake :
We should them love, and with their needs partake;
Knowing that whatsoe'er to them we give,
We give to him by whom we all do live.

Then rouse thyself, O earth, out of thy soil,
In which thou wallowest like to filthy swine,
And dost thy mind in dirty pleasures moyl,
Unmindful of that dearest Lord of thine;
Lift up to him thy heavy-clouded eyne,
That thou this sovereign beauty may'st behold,
And read through love his mercies manifold.

With all thy heart, with all thy soul, and mind,
Thou must him love, and his behests embrace :
All other loves, with which the world doth blind
Weak fancies, and stir up affections base,
Thou must renounce, and utterly displace;
And give thyself unto him full and free,
That full and freely gave himself for thee.

Then shalt thou feel thy spirit so possest,
And ravish'st with devouring great desire
Of his dear self, that shall thy feeble breast
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire
With burning zeal, through every part entire ;

That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight,
But in his sweet and amiable sight.

Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee die,
And all earth's glory, on which men do gaze,
Seem dirt and dross in thy pure sighted eye;
Compared to that celestial beauty's blaze
Whose glorious beams all fleshly sense doth daze*
With admiration of their passing light,
Blinding the eyes, and lumining the sprite.
Then shall thy ravisht soul inspired be

With heavenly thoughts, far above human skill;
And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainly see
Th' idee of his pure glory, present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill
With sweet enragement of celestial love

Kindled through sight of those fair things above.

SPENSER.

GOD EVERYWHERE.

OH, God! thy works are infinite-all space
Is full of thee;-the earth-the skies-the waters-
The circumambient air-all teem with life,
And never-ending germ. The golden pomp
Of the morn's pageantry, when sunbeams weave
The brow of spring a coronal of flowers,
Sends forth, irradiant as the particles

Of light from light's own focus, glorious things
To magnify thy power; and chastest eve,
That with a nun-like holiness doth come
To lead the stricken heart to sanctuary,

• Daze, dazzle.

Brings with her myriad, myriad multitudes
Of sparkling atoms, organized and pure,

To teach it praise. Where shall the spirit pierce,
And not find tokens, still, of God? The grave-
Though e'er so cold, and dark, and desolate-
She cannot shut him out-for He is there:
Resolving, re-arranging, re-producing ever,
The essences of things, and bringing life
Up out of death. Ye solitudes, whose shade,
Profound and terrible, can rouse the soul
Into exalted action and high thought
Beyond itself! Ye fastnesses sublime,
The thrones of eagles, and the palaces
Of lions! and ye deep entangled woods
And wild savannahs, and all boundless plains,
Where roll uncurb'd the giant floods that hear
No sounds save their own dashings, or the voice
Of the majestic thunder-cloud on high,
Shouting among the stars! not e'en your vast
And all-stupendous features can proclaim
The Lord Almighty, more than the dark grave,
Where breed the loathsome maggot and the worm,
And whence the dead shall, at his call, arise!

W. MARTIN.

THE DUTY OF FORGIVENESS.

GOD is constantly bestowing

Countless blessings on our head;

He, with mercy, full and flowing,
Gives us still our daily bread.

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