The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England Second edition [by Isaac Williams] |
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The Sepulchral Recesses.
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 | The Cathedral, or the Catholic and Apostolic Church in England |  |
192
The Sepulchral Recesses.
THE CHURCHMAN'S FRIENDS,
HERBERT.
Meek Herbert, ere of thee I sing,
'Tis thou must lend the string,
On Jesus' breast thou art asleep,
Or thou would'st wake and weep,
That any one should sing of thee
Laid in thy poverty.
'Tis thou must lend the string,
On Jesus' breast thou art asleep,
Or thou would'st wake and weep,
That any one should sing of thee
Laid in thy poverty.
But all our Church doth bear along
The echoes of thy song,
Thy Country Pastor sweet and stern
Her children fain would learn;
Then let the light that fills her shrine
On thy meek urn recline.
The echoes of thy song,
Thy Country Pastor sweet and stern
Her children fain would learn;
Then let the light that fills her shrine
On thy meek urn recline.
193
For now thou art a holy thing,
And singing the great King
For ever with a nobler strain;
Nor praise of our's can pain,
If we be tuned by thy lays
To sing thy “Master's” praise.
And singing the great King
For ever with a nobler strain;
Nor praise of our's can pain,
If we be tuned by thy lays
To sing thy “Master's” praise.
Meek Herbert, would that such as I
Could learn thy lesson high,
Those ways that make thy spirit's tone
A midnight orison,
Thy more than manly wisdom free,
And child's simplicity.
Could learn thy lesson high,
Those ways that make thy spirit's tone
A midnight orison,
Thy more than manly wisdom free,
And child's simplicity.
For Angels ever with thee are,
And, in their presence fair,
Thy spirit feels it poor and mean,
But golden thoughts doth glean
Which fall like light from off their wings,
When bow'd to earth it sings.
And, in their presence fair,
Thy spirit feels it poor and mean,
But golden thoughts doth glean
Which fall like light from off their wings,
When bow'd to earth it sings.
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BUTLER.
I saw within a glass vast worlds of light,Launch'd multitudinous on the shoreless sea,
While, far outspread, the boundless Deity,
Sat brooding 'mid the peopled Infinite.
Within her and around her the dark sprite
Sees—but to know she sees not—the vast zone.
All bodiless, hung from th'Eternal's throne,
And hears strange melodies on th'ear of night.
Thus on my heart of hearts still silently
Lingers the echo of thy solemn strain,
Thoughtful and saintly Butler! then above,
Dark clouds between, is seen a golden chain,
And earth and Heav'n breathe with Divinity;
—I walk with holy trembling and deep love.
195
KING GEORGE III.
And thee, of firm-set foot, and stern advance,Giv'n to whose prayers she haply yet doth stand
To hold Truth's lamp unto a thankless land,
Our Church shall own. For no unholy chance,
Nor strength of counsel, nor embattled lance,
Nor princely league, nor sea-victorious band,
Shielded her from the pestilential brand,
And fiery breath of parricidal France:
But one who drank at Her diurnal source,
One who his anchor had within the veil.
Her's was the breath that fill'd his regal sail
Right onward, her's the star that led his course
Thro' the tempestuous skies; that, 'mid wild force,
Disloyal tongues, fall'n kings, hearts faint and frail,
All lookd to him, in her calm firmness free,
Sacredly wise in mild simplicity.
196
WILSON.
Mona, may Ocean's waves that gird thee round.Keep watch about thy shores, as holy ground,
And lift their suppliant hands, nor plead in vain,
And thine Apostle's See e'en yet remain!
For, louder than those waves thy rocks among,
That saintly name once had a thrilling tongue,
Which pleaded for thy sea-encircled strand;
And still doth plead. Woe worth the reckless hand
That shall remove thy landmark, and defile
His living monument, thou sacred Isle.
He needeth nought of us, true-hearted saint,
Nor storied stone, nor monumental plaint,
But much we need of him, while, in his praise
Shall the memorial live of pure primeval days.
197
HOOKER.
Voice of the wise of old!
Go breathe thy thrilling whispers now
In cells where learned eyes late vigils hold,
And teach proud Science where to veil her brow.
Go breathe thy thrilling whispers now
In cells where learned eyes late vigils hold,
And teach proud Science where to veil her brow.
Voice of the meekest man!
Now, while the Church for combat arms,
Calmly do thou confirm her awful ban,
Thy words to her be conquering, soothing charms.
Now, while the Church for combat arms,
Calmly do thou confirm her awful ban,
Thy words to her be conquering, soothing charms.
Voice of the fearless saint!
Ring like a trump, where gentle hearts
Beat high for Truth, but, doubting, cower and faint:—
Tell them, the hour is come, and they must take their parts.
Ring like a trump, where gentle hearts
Beat high for Truth, but, doubting, cower and faint:—
Tell them, the hour is come, and they must take their parts.
γ.
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