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169
Ascension Day.
“In heart and mind thither ascend, and with them continually dwell.”
—Collect for the Day.
Child of the Spirit! high o'er earth
While sin and sorrow have their birth,
The ever-dark, and ever-deep,—
Ascend the realms of radiant Glory
And worship Him who went before thee,
Where hearts nor sin, nor eyelids weep,—
Sursum corda.
While sin and sorrow have their birth,
The ever-dark, and ever-deep,—
Ascend the realms of radiant Glory
And worship Him who went before thee,
Where hearts nor sin, nor eyelids weep,—
Sursum corda.
Bad, at the best, this world appears,
And, moisten'd with memorial-tears
Besprinkl'd o'er uncounted graves;
But, Light of Light! and Lord of Lords!
Oh, breathe from out Thy living words
The truth which sanctifies, and saves,—
Sursum corda.
And, moisten'd with memorial-tears
Besprinkl'd o'er uncounted graves;
But, Light of Light! and Lord of Lords!
Oh, breathe from out Thy living words
The truth which sanctifies, and saves,—
Sursum corda.
For, had we more than dreams infold,
Or Crœsus grasp'd, with all his gold,
And every sense entranc'd in joy,—
Unresting still the soul would be,
Whose full repose in Deity
Alone exists, without alloy,—
Sursum corda.
Or Crœsus grasp'd, with all his gold,
And every sense entranc'd in joy,—
Unresting still the soul would be,
Whose full repose in Deity
Alone exists, without alloy,—
Sursum corda.
Mount heavenward, therefore, soaring Heart!
And let thine eagle-pinions dart
Around Emanuel's priestly throne:
Incarnate Mercy, view it there!
The Source of praise, the Spring of prayer,
And in Whose life we live alone,—
Sursum corda.
And let thine eagle-pinions dart
Around Emanuel's priestly throne:
Incarnate Mercy, view it there!
The Source of praise, the Spring of prayer,
And in Whose life we live alone,—
Sursum corda.
170
Giver of ev'ry needed Grace!
Lift out of Sin our sunken race
Free from the flesh-born chains of time;
Let heaven our gravitation prove,
And poise us in its perfect love
While centred in such calm sublime,—
Sursum corda.
Lift out of Sin our sunken race
Free from the flesh-born chains of time;
Let heaven our gravitation prove,
And poise us in its perfect love
While centred in such calm sublime,—
Sursum corda.
The mental antichrist of man,
Apostate Science, often can
Darken our faith in doubt and dread,
But, if the soul be truly Thine,
Then, reason is Thy law divine,
And by its will, our own is led,—
Sursum corda.
Apostate Science, often can
Darken our faith in doubt and dread,
But, if the soul be truly Thine,
Then, reason is Thy law divine,
And by its will, our own is led,—
Sursum corda.
Life-giving Spirit! let Thy breath
Defend us from that inward death
Whose chillness o'er each grace would steal;
And then, Thy Church herself will be
A sacramental Type of Thee,
Replete with innocence and zeal,—
Sursum corda.
Defend us from that inward death
Whose chillness o'er each grace would steal;
And then, Thy Church herself will be
A sacramental Type of Thee,
Replete with innocence and zeal,—
Sursum corda.
And Thou, ascended Prince of Peace!
Whose awful Merit won release
From present guilt, and pangs to come,
Grant freedom, pure as Seraphs find,
Who worship thee with sinless mind
In heaven, which is our common home,—
Sursum corda.
Whose awful Merit won release
From present guilt, and pangs to come,
Grant freedom, pure as Seraphs find,
Who worship thee with sinless mind
In heaven, which is our common home,—
Sursum corda.
Let Faith but once that Veil undraw
Which curtains what Thy martyr saw
When dying into deathless fame,—
Celestial life will quicken, then,
And emulate those saintly men
Who chanted o'er Thy Cross and Shame,—
Sursum corda!
Which curtains what Thy martyr saw
When dying into deathless fame,—
Celestial life will quicken, then,
And emulate those saintly men
Who chanted o'er Thy Cross and Shame,—
Sursum corda!
171
And thus, amid those myriad charms
That work and wield their subtle harms,
The spirit down on earth to chain,
All scene for prayer a church will prove,
All consciousness a creed of love,
And around us swell the strain,—
Sursum corda!
That work and wield their subtle harms,
The spirit down on earth to chain,
All scene for prayer a church will prove,
All consciousness a creed of love,
And around us swell the strain,—
Sursum corda!
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