So to the end, though now of mortal pangs Thou meetest all the storm. Thou wilt feel all, that Thou may'st pity all; So clear in agony, Or lose one glimpse of Heaven before the time. Renew'd in every pulse That on the tedious Cross Told the long hours of death, as, one by one, Look Sorrow in the face, And bid her freely welcome, unbeguil'd By false kind solaces, and spells of earth :- For when was Joy so dear, As the deep calm that breath'd, "Father, forgive," Or, "Be with me in Paradise to-day?" And, though the strife be sore, Yet in His parting breath Love masters agony; the soul that seem'd Contented dies away. WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: never theless, not my will, but thine be done. St. Luke xxii. 42. O LORD my God, do Thou thy holy will- I will not stir, lest I forsake thine arm, And break the charm, Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, In perfect rest. Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways; Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all с Come, Self-devotion, high and pure, And read in thy pale eye serene Their blessing, who by faith can wean Their hearts from sense, and learn to love God only, and the joys above. They say, who know the life divine, And upward gaze with eagle eyne, That by each golden crown on high, .... that little coronet or special reward which God hath prepared (extraordinary and besides the great Crown of all faithful souls) for those Which for our Lord's redeem'd is set, All gemm'd with pure and living light, Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. Oft in Life's stillest shade reclining, In Desolation unrepining, Without a hope on earth to find And there are souls that seem to dwell "who have not defiled themselves with women, but follow the (virgin) Lamb for ever." Bp. Taylor, Holy Living, c. xi. sect. 3. Floats round their steps, where'er they move, Such, if on high their thoughts are set, Such wedded souls our God shall own Thus every where we find our suffering God, May set our steps: the Cross on Calvary Beams on the martyr host, a beacon light To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart The virtue of His midnight agony, When none was nigh, Save God and one good angel, to assuage |