Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-robed innocence from heaven descend.
Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn!
Oh spring to light! auspicious babe, be born!
See, nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incense of the breathing spring!
See lofty Lebanon his head advance;
See nodding forests on the mountains dance;
See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise,
And Carmel's flowery top perfumes the skies!
Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers:
Prepare the way! a God, a God appears!
A God, a God! the vocal hills reply —
The rocks proclaim the approaching deity.
Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies!
Sink down, ye mountains; and ye valleys, rise!
With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay!
Be smooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way!
The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold —
Hear Him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films shall purge the visual ray,
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day;
'Tis He the obstructed paths of sound shall clear,
And bid new music charm the unfolding ear;
The dumb shall sing; the lame his crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear -
From every face He wipes off every tear.
In adamantine chains shall death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound.
As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air,
Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs,
By day o'ersees them, and by night protects;
The tender lambs He raises in His arms-
Feeds from His hand, and in His bosom warms:
Thus shall mankind His guardian care engage -
The promised father of the future age.
No more shall nation against nation rise,
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes;
Nor fields with gleaming steel be covered o'er,
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more;
But useless lances into scythes shall bend,
And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end.
Then palaces shall rise; the joyful son
Shall finish what his short-lived sire begun;
Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield,
And the same hand that sowed shall reap the
The swain in barren deserts with surprise
Sees lilies spring and sudden verdure rise;
And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds, to hear
New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods;
Waste sandy valleys, once perplexed with thorn,
The spiry fir and shapely box adorn;
To leafless shrubs the flowery palms succeed,
And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed;
The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant
mead,
And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead;
The steer and lion at one crib shall meet,
And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The smiling infant in his hand shall take
The crested basilisk and speckled snake-
Pleased, the green lustre of the scales survey,
And with their forked tongue shall innocently
play.
Rise, crowned with light, imperial Salem, rise!
Exalt thy towery head, and lift thine eyes!
See a long race thy spacious courts adorn;
See future sons and daughters, yet unborn,
In crowding ranks on every side arise,
Demanding life, impatient for the skies!
See barbarous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend;
See thy bright altars thronged with prostrate
kings,
And heaped with products of Sabean springs!
For thee Idume's spicy forests blow,
And seeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow.
See heaven its sparkling portals wide display,
And break upon thee in a flood of day!
No more the rising sun shall gild the morn,
Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn;
But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze,
O'erflow thy courts; the Light Himself shall
shine
Revealed, and God's eternal day be thine!
The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay,
Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away;
But fixed His word, His saving power remains;
Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns!
Jesus shall Reign.
JESUS shall reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journeys run,—
His kingdom spread from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
From north to south the princes meet
To pay their homage at His feet,
While western empires own their Lord,
And savage tribes attend His word.
To him shall endless prayer be made,
And endless praises crown His head;
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With every morning sacrifice.
People and realms of every tongue
Dwell on His love with sweetest song,
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on His name.
Passion Sunday.
THE royal banners forward go,
The cross shines forth in mystic glow,
Where He in flesh, our flesh who made,
Our sentence bore, our ransom paid;
Where deep for us the spear was dyed,
Life's torrent rushing from His side,
To wash us in that precious flood
Where mingled water flowed and blood.
Fulfilled is all that David told
In true prophetic song of old:
Amidst the nations, God, saith he,
Hath reigned and triumphed from the tree.
Thou remit my sins who knowest
All the sinning, to the lowest —
Knowest all my wounds, and seest
All the stripes Thyself decreest;
Yea, but knowest all my faith-
Seest all my force to death,-
Hearest all my wailings low
That mine evil should be so!
Nothing hidden but appears
In Thy knowledge, O Divine,
O Creator, Saviour mine!-
Not a drop of falling tears,
Not a breath of inward moan,
Not a heart-beat- which is gone!
ST. JOANNES DAMASCENUS. (Greek)
Translation of MRS. BROWNING,
FROM my lips in their defilement,
From my heart in its beguilement,
From my tongue which speaks not fair,
From my soul stained everywhere—
O my Jesus, take my prayer!
Spurn me not, for all it says,-
Not for words, and not for ways,―
Not for shamelessness endured!
Make me brave to speak my mood,
O my Jesus as I would!
Or teach me, which I rather seek,
What to do and what to speak.
I have sinned more than she
Who, learning where to meet with Thee,
And bringing myrrh the highest priced,
Anointed bravely, from her knee,
Thy blessed feet accordingly-
My God, my Lord, my Christ!
As thou saidest not "Depart,"
To that suppliant from her heart,
Scorn me not, O Word, that art
The gentlest one of all words said!
But give Thy feet to me instead,
That tenderly I may them kiss,
And clasp them close, and never miss,
With over-dropping tears, as free
And precious as that myrrh could be,
T' anoint them bravely from my knee!
Wash me with Thy tears! draw nigh me,
That their salt may purify me!
My God, I Love Thee.
My God, I love Thee! not because
I hope for heaven thereby;
Nor because those who love Thee not
Must burn eternally.
Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me
Upon the cross embrace!
For me didst bear the nails and spear,
And manifold disgrace.
And griefs and torments numberless,
And sweat of agony,
Yea, death itself— and all for one
That was Thine enemy.
Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
Should I not love Thee well?
Not for the hope of winning heaven,
Nor of escaping hell!
Not with the hope of gaining aught,
Not seeking a reward;
But as Thyself hast loved me,
O everlasting Lord!
E'en so I love Thee, and will love,
And in Thy praise will sing-
Solely because Thou art my God,
And my eternal king.
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER. (Latin.) Translation of EDWARD CASWELL.
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