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What echoes from the sacred dome
The heart that scorn'd a father's care,
Or how shall envious brethren own
How shall thy Spirit's gracious wile The sullen brow of gloom beguile, That frowns on sweet affection's smile ?
Eternal One, Almighty Trine ! (Since Thou art ours, and we are Thine) By all thy love did once resign,
By all the grace thy heavens still hide, We pray thee, keep us at thy side, Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide!
FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
So Joshua smote all the country, and all their kings; he left none remaining. Joshua x. 40.
WHERE is the land with milk and honey flowing,
The promise of our God, our fancy's theme? Here over shatter'd walls dank weeds are growing, And blood and fire have run in mingled stream;
Like oaks and cedars all around
The giant corses strew the ground, And haughty Jericho's cloud-piercing wall Lies where it sank at Joshua's trumpet call.
These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even,
For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades,
We in the midst of ruins live,
Nor may our household vine or figtree hide
Where is the sweet repose of hearts repenting,
The deep calm sky, the sunshine of the soul, Now heaven and earth are to our bliss consenting, And all the Godhead joins to make us whole ?
The triple crown of mercy now
Is ready for the suppliant's brow,
“Now, Christians, hold your own the land before ye
“ Is open-win your way, and take your rest.” So sounds our war-note; but our path of glory By many a cloud is darken'd and unblest :
And daily as we downward glide,
Life's ebbing stream on either side
Open our eyes, thou Sun of life and gladness,
That we may see that glorious world of thine !
Enfolds us here like mist: come Power benign,
Touch our chill'd hearts with vernal smile,
Our wintry course do Thou beguile, Nor by the wayside ruins let us mourn, Who have th' eternal towers for our appointed bourne.
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. 1 St. John iii. 13.
THE clouds that wrap the setting sun
When Autumn's softest gleams are ending,
In sweet confusion blending :-
When up some woodland dale we catch
The many twinkling smile of ocean,
ποντίων σε κυμάτων ανάριθμον γέλασμα. .
Æschyl. Prom. 89.
Or with pleas'd ear bewilder'd watch
His chime of restless motion ;
Wouldst thou the life of souls discern?
Nor human wisdom nor divine
Love is life's only sign.
But he, whose heart will bound to mark
The full bright burst of summer morn, Loves too each little dewy spark
By leaf or flow'ret worn: Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis true, Through the bright shower-drop meet his view; The colouring may be of this earth; The lustre comes of heavenly birth.