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And Lazarus waken'd from his four days' sleep,
And fast beside the olive-border'd way
Stands the bless'd home, where Jesus deign'd to stay, The peaceful home, to Zeal sincere
And heavenly Contemplation dear,
When Martha lov'd to wait with reverence meet,
Still through decaying ages as they glide,
Pause where we may upon the desert road,
When withering blasts of error swept the sky,
On shelter'd nooks of Palestine !
Then to his early home did Love repaird,
And cheer'd his sickening heart with his own native air.
c Arianism in the fourth century.
d See St. Jerome's Works, i. 123. edit. Erasm.
Years roll away again the tide of crime
Has swept thy footsteps from the favour'd clime.
On a crown'd monarch's mailed breast: Like some bright angel o'er the darkling scene, Through court and camp he holds his heavenward course
A fouler vision yet; an age of light,
Light without love, glares on the aching sight:
O who can tell how calm and sweet,
Meek Walton! shews thy green retreat, When wearied with the tale thy times disclose, The first finds thee out in thy secure repose eye
Thus bad and good their several warnings give
Counts them like minute bells at night,
Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn,
But what are heaven's alarms to hearts that cower
e St. Louis in the tenth century.
That draw their curtains closer round,
The nearer swells the trumpet's sound?
Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die, Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee
SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT.
And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up and lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh. St. Luke xxi. 28.
NOT till the freezing blast is still,
Till freely leaps the sparkling rill,
As o'er a sleeping infant's eyes
A mother's kiss; ere calls like these,
Why then, in sad and wintry time,
Her heavens all dark with doubt and crime,
Is she less wise than leaves of spring,
Or birds that cower with folded wing?
She has a charm, a word of fire,
A pledge of love that cannot tire ;
Not surer does each tender gem,
The season's flight unwarn'd we mark,
f 2 Esdras xiv. 10. The world hath lost his youth, and the times begin to wax old.
But miss the Judge behind-the door,
Yet is He there: beneath our eaves
But chiefly ye should lift your gaze
Angels He calls
To lead on earth an Angel's life.
Think not of rest; though dreams be sweet,
Start up, and ply your heaven-ward feet.
g See St. James v. 9.