Offertory-Sentences.
“Begin the Offertory, saying one or more of these sentences.”
Rubric.
Divine Parnassus for the priests of song
To whom all consecrated harps belong,
Mountain of grace, mysterious Calvary!
May ev'ry minstrel's heaven-toned lyre
Tell how Thy glories can inspire
The might and magic of true poetry.
But, crested by the holy Cross, thou art
A more than Poem to the pure in heart,
Whose inward-vision sees that Symbol there,
Whence sacramental meanings flow
That kindle adoration's glow,—
Melting with praise or murmur'd into prayer.
Yet, throbs and thrills emotional and keen,
Like those awaken'd by some wonder-scene
Where tragedy excites and tears reply,—
What are they more than fairy gleams
Which fascinate our earth-born dreams
And cheat the conscience with bright mockery?
No life is felt, except devoted love
The Will can crucify for Christ above,
Whose Cross transfigures all its spells can reach:—
Who touches it, a virtue gains
That o'er his inmost fibre reigns
And tells him truths, which Martyrs died to teach!
But should'st thou waver in some unwatch'd hour,
Nor feel Thy Saviour's crucifying power
Soften the heart with love's o'ermast'ring sway,—
The Church accosts thee with a tone
Maternal, such as infants own
When erring fancies lead young feet astray.
In vain by litanies we cry “oh, Lord!”
And mock His Throne with man's beseeching word
Lull'd by the lip-work of a fruitless prayer;—
Oblations Christ and Church require
To mingle with that spirit-fire
The living altar of the heart feeds there.
All Saints are jewels in Emanuel's Crown,
Gems of His Church by glory and renown,
The talk of angels and the theme of heaven:
But in that list the martyr'd poor
Who faint beside the rich man's door
Are most like Him, to Whom such lot was given!
Blest be her wisdom then, who, ere we lift
Our hands to hold God's everlasting Gift
Here in His Eucharist of dying love,—
With urgency divinely-true
Opens the heavens for hearts to view
The Lord of charity enshrined above.
Preluding strains may thus the mind prepare
For more devotion than mere lips declare;
While Faith o'erawed, upon adoring knees,
Under that veil of mystic Food
Which garbs “The Body and the Blood,”
Her God in sacrificial glory sees.
Lord of true sacrifice! Thou Lamb of souls,
When charity like Thine the heart controls
How dear the sad, and how sublime the poor!
Spirits on fire, then inly melt
As though their inmost centre felt
Christ forming
in them, Whom their lips adore.
