SAVIOUR! when in dust to thee Low we bow the adoring knee, When, repentant, to the skies Scarce we lift our streaming eyesO! by all the pains and woe, Suffered once for man below, Bending from thy throne on high, Hear our solemn Litany!
By thy helpless infant years,
By thy life of wants and tears,
By thy days of sore distress,
In the savage wilderness-
By the dread permitted hour
Of th' insulting tempter's power—
Turn, O turn a pitying eye,
Hear our solemn Litany!
By the sacred griefs that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept-
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode-
By the anguished tear that told,
Treachery lurked within thy fold-
From thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn Litany!
By thine hour of dire despair,
By thine agony of prayer,
By the cross, the nail, the thorn,
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn,
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O'er the dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn Litany!
By the deep expiring groan,
By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God;
O! from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn Litany!
CHRIST STILLETH THE TEMPEST
On the loud ocean's boisterous wave
A fragile bark is driven,
Tempestuous seas the vessel lave,
Nor dare the helpless seamen crave
A tranquil calm from heav'n :
And hope's last fond, expiring ray,
To gloomy fear and doubt gives way.
Upon the couch in sleep reclin'd
A form divine is there,
Who neither dreads the stormy wind,
Nor joins his calm and tranquil mind
The deep wail of despair.
Upon that slumbering One they cry,
Car'st thou not, Master, that we die ?
He rose-the sea in fury boiled;
He spake the tempest ceas'd;
No more against the surge they toil'd,
But from his gaze their hearts recoil'd,
Although from fear releas'd.
"O ye of little faith," he cried,
"Why tremble at the raging tide ?
A mightier power can bid it cease,
And o'er the waters there is peace."
THE LAND OF LIGHT.
THAT clime is not like this dull clime of ours; All, all is brightness there :
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, And a far milder air.
No calm below is like that calm above,
No region here is like that realm of love;
Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light;
Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright.
That sky is not like this sad sky of ours,
Tinged with earth's change and care;
No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers-
No broken sunshine there!
One everlasting stretch of azure pours
Its stainless splendour o'er these sinless shores;
For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray,
There Jesus reigns, dispensing endless day.
These dwellers there are not like those of earth,
No mortal stain they bear;
And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth—
Whence and how came they there?
Earth was their native soil; from sin and shame,
Through tribulation they to glory came;
Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load,
Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God.
These robes of theirs are not like those below;
No angel's half so bright!
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow,
Whence came that radiant white!
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb,
Fair as the light these robes of theirs became.
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye,
They wander where the freshest pastures lie,
Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky.
THE DISCIPLINE OF JOY AND SORROW.
My sky was once noon-bright,
My day was calm the while,
I loved the pleasant light,
The sunshine's happy smile.
I said, "My God, O sure
This love will kindle mine;
Let but this calm endure,
Then all my heart is thine!"
Thou trustedst me awhile-
O Lord, I was deceived;
I revelled in the smile,
Yet to the dust I cleaved.
Then the fierce tempest broke→→
I knew from whence it came-
I read in that sharp stroke,
A Father's hand and name.
"Must I be smitten, Lord?
Are gentler measures vain ? Must I be smitten, Lord?
Can nothing save but pain ?"
I said, "My God! at length,
This stony heart remove,
Deny all other strength,
But give me heart to love!"
EVENING TWILIGHT.
I love to steal awhile away
From every cumbering care,
And spend the hours of setting day
In humble, grateful prayer.
|