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The Choir and The Oratory

or Praise and Prayer. By Josiah Conder

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III.

Here had paused the venturous strain,
When those portals once again

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Sudden turned with gentlest sound.
—Easy exit hast thou found,
Dearest Father! such thy prayer;
And what joyful entrance there!
Like a sheaf of ripened grain,
In the garner Thou art lain;
Full of years, thy locks of grey
Laurels of a well-spent day.
Grave! this venerable dust
Take into thy faithful trust.
Tears of joy alone be shed;
Blessed are the pious dead.
Thanks and praise to Thee we give,
Lord, to whom, with whom, they live!
Thanks for all thy servants dear
Who have, in thy faith and fear,
Hence departed! So may we,
Following those who followed Thee,
Join that holy company!
Onward, upward, let us press,
Tending to that blessedness;
Gathering round us, in our course,
By example's hallowed force,

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All whom we can snatch, or win,
From the downward paths of sin:
Losing nothing, but to find,
When we leave this world behind,
More than earth at best could shew,
All we lost or loved below:—
Still, amid the race, the strife
Of this agonistic life,
Witnessed by the circle bright
Who have won their course to light,
Ever on the goal intent;
Still on heaven our purpose bent,
Where our Leader, Saviour, Lord,
Holds the infinite reward.
Then, the course, the fight, achieved,
Oh, what joy, to be received,
Through that mercy we believed;
And, death's gloomy portal past,—
(That grim foe shall be the last,—)
'Mid our glorious friends above,
Be all joy and praise and love.