Fifty of the Protestant Ballads and " The Anti-Ritualistic Directorium, " of Martin F. Tupper ... New; and reprinted |
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OUR CHURCH'S DANGER. |
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 | Fifty of the Protestant Ballads |  |
OUR CHURCH'S DANGER.
Honest shepherd, wisely earnest
In thy ministry of love,
Who with holy fervour yearnest
Souls to win for worlds above,—
Thee I praise, discreet and fervent,
Thee, wherever thou art found,
Man's dear friend, and God's dear servant,
Shedding blessedness around.
In thy ministry of love,
Who with holy fervour yearnest
Souls to win for worlds above,—
Thee I praise, discreet and fervent,
Thee, wherever thou art found,
Man's dear friend, and God's dear servant,
Shedding blessedness around.
But—for yonder thousand others,
Lo! the herd of callous men,
Persecuting us lay-brothers
Ruthlessly by tongue and pen;
Dozy readers, drowsy teachers,
How much have not you to fear
When on such unfaithful preachers
Judgment frowns for dulness here!
Lo! the herd of callous men,
Persecuting us lay-brothers
Ruthlessly by tongue and pen;
Dozy readers, drowsy teachers,
How much have not you to fear
When on such unfaithful preachers
Judgment frowns for dulness here!
What occasions, what positions,
Hireling parsons fling away!
Crown'd with God's and Man's commissions,
All they care for is the pay:
Crowded round by fellow-sinners
Hungering to be taught and fed,
Soul-destroyers, not soul-winners,
Lo! they give us stones for bread.
Hireling parsons fling away!
Crown'd with God's and Man's commissions,
All they care for is the pay:
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Hungering to be taught and fed,
Soul-destroyers, not soul-winners,
Lo! they give us stones for bread.
Deans and Chapters, trust-betraying,
Pirates of the Church at home,—
Histrionic Vicars, playing
Loose with Luther, fast with Rome,—
Rectors, surplice-fee devouring,
Bishops, greedy over-much,—
What a storm of wrath is louring
O'er the Church, for sake of such!
Pirates of the Church at home,—
Histrionic Vicars, playing
Loose with Luther, fast with Rome,—
Rectors, surplice-fee devouring,
Bishops, greedy over-much,—
What a storm of wrath is louring
O'er the Church, for sake of such!
Woe! dumb dogs, that love to slumber,
Woe! ye service-humming drones,
That our Church and State encumber
Fatally with dead men's bones,—
Woe! though conscience may be harden'd
Here to lust of things below,
Guilt like yours must flame unpardon'd
Terribly in worlds of woe!
Woe! ye service-humming drones,
That our Church and State encumber
Fatally with dead men's bones,—
Woe! though conscience may be harden'd
Here to lust of things below,
Guilt like yours must flame unpardon'd
Terribly in worlds of woe!
Church of England, Christian Mother!
Rich in children good and true,—
Prelacy and worldlings smother
Half thy truth and goodness too;
Heed a layman's honest boldness,
Warning half-prophetic now,
Lordships, priestcraft, fees, and coldness,
These must have an end—or Thou!
Rich in children good and true,—
Prelacy and worldlings smother
Half thy truth and goodness too;
Heed a layman's honest boldness,
Warning half-prophetic now,
Lordships, priestcraft, fees, and coldness,
These must have an end—or Thou!
| Fifty of the Protestant Ballads | |