صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

And all bystanders marvelled

At that wondrous Infant mild: They knew not their Creator

'Neath the semblance of a Child.

Blindness.

DEEM'ST thou it sad to lose the happy power
Of gazing on the dark blue summer sky,
And watching in the gorgeous sunset hour
Each cloud arrayed in glory floating by?

Deem'st thou it sad to know that all is fair, That God's bright flowery earth is decked with smiles,

Yet only feel the spring's soft balmy air,

Like ocean-wafted breath from perfumed isles?

Deem'st thou it sad to hear each low sweet voice,
To know that those we dearly love are nigh,

Yet only in the hearing to rejoice,

Nor see the sunshine of a loved one's eye?

Oh! 'tis a thousandfold more sadly drear

To stand outside the Church's holy gate, And not to know the Lord thy God is near, And on the altar e'en for thee doth wait.

To pass beside the lowly cabin door,

Scorning it, as men once scorned Bethlehem's shed, And not to know that, with His dying poor,

Jesus stands with His priest beside the bed.

Oh, blindness worse than unbelieving Jew's,
Dullness of heart that will not choose to wake :
Truth to reject, conviction to refuse,

Till through Death's veil, too late, the light shall break.

Prayer of a Protestant Wanderer.

DARKLY the shadows of evening are closing,
Birds to their soft leafy nests flee away,
Hearts of the weary in peace are reposing,
Ave Maria!-ora pro me!

Mine is no home, with its fair smile of gladness,
I am not watched for at close of the day,
Lonely and weary, a pilgrim of sadness,
Mater amata, ora pro me!

Tossed like a leaf upon life's stormy billow, Helpless as sea-drift that floats on the spray, That Heaven's mercy may watch o'er my pillow, O Stella maris, ora pro me!

Under thy shelter I flee with my sorrow,
Thou who art mighty for sinners to pray ;
How should I linger, thy succour to borrow,
Mater amabilis, ora pro me!

And in the shadowy hour of temptation

Guide my frail heart, lest I sink by the way;
In days of rejoicing, in dark tribulation,
Mater purissima, ora pro me!

When I am laid where no anguish can grieve me, None that have loved me will venture to pray :That angels may guard me, and Jesus receive me, Mater sanctissima, ora pro me!

« السابقةمتابعة »