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The Sanctuary

A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery

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182

Third Sunday after Trinity.

“All of you be subject one to another, and clothed with humility.” —Epistle for the Day.

No Christians have a Christ-like heart,
Except their moral tone
When call'd to bear life's bitter part,
Recall Emanuel's own.
Meek charity, that master-grace
The peerless type of heaven,
Oh, let it from thy creed displace
What cannot say,—“forgiven!”
Nor ever let the sun go down
Upon thine inward ire:
They cannot wear a Saviour's crown
Whom love doth not inspire.
Pure Lord of lowliness, and love!
Thus, make Thy model dear
To all who live for thrones above,
By bearing crosses, here.
Thy meekness hath its own reward,
Calm blessings line its path;
Without,—it keeps celestial guard,
Within,—what peace it hath!
The proud are poor, 'mid all the gold
Ambition's grasp obtains;
The meek are rich, though none behold
The beauty of their gains.
No acres may to them belong,
No scenes of garish pleasure,—
But yet they chant a mental song
O'er Truth's divinest treasure.

183

Then, Lord of gentleness, watch Thou
For ever at our side,
And, when we mark Thy wounded brow,
Abhorr'd be human pride!