 | The poetical works of Henry Alford |  |
206
XCIX. DAY BY DAY WE MAGNIFY THEE.
O bare and aimless mockery—“day by day?”
To-morrow, and the next day, and the next,
No praise will hence ascend; no sacred text
Be uttered to the people. Come who may,
For prayer or thought, these gates shall say them nay:
Be they in anguish, or with doubt perplext,
Or with the world's unceasing billows vext,
We lock the church, and order all away.
To-morrow, and the next day, and the next,
No praise will hence ascend; no sacred text
Be uttered to the people. Come who may,
For prayer or thought, these gates shall say them nay:
Be they in anguish, or with doubt perplext,
Or with the world's unceasing billows vext,
We lock the church, and order all away.
O low estate of holy hope and faith!
Are we to think that He who hallowed one,
Of all the other days requireth none?
Or that our working-days are safe from death?
Cease your Ambrosian hymn,—or this at most,
Perform the promise, ye who make the boast.
Are we to think that He who hallowed one,
Of all the other days requireth none?
Or that our working-days are safe from death?
Cease your Ambrosian hymn,—or this at most,
Perform the promise, ye who make the boast.
| The poetical works of Henry Alford | |