 | Benoni |  |
87
ST. MARY'S.
The glory of the ancient days
Hath crept thro' darkness, but we feel
Its soft reviving bloom:
Again the rich bewilder'd blaze
Of tints is o'er you as ye kneel
Within your Sabbath-home.
Hath crept thro' darkness, but we feel
Its soft reviving bloom:
Again the rich bewilder'd blaze
Of tints is o'er you as ye kneel
Within your Sabbath-home.
The crust of sloth is gone, the vile
Excrescences, and all that told
A dull, neglectful age;
Serenely down each shadow'd aisle
Ye worship as your sires of old,
And woo the prayerful page,
Excrescences, and all that told
A dull, neglectful age;
Serenely down each shadow'd aisle
Ye worship as your sires of old,
And woo the prayerful page,
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And list perennial teachings dear,
And trace, O steadfast souls and true,
The ancient praises' chime:
All the old charms are here, but bear
Their freshest youth again for you—
“Light at the evening-time.”
And trace, O steadfast souls and true,
The ancient praises' chime:
All the old charms are here, but bear
Their freshest youth again for you—
“Light at the evening-time.”
O nest where hallow'd thoughts and prayers
Have garner'd, from the days of old,—
Still in thy newer guise
Be thou a home for all that wears
The look of heaven—a crowded fold
Of saintly memories!
Have garner'd, from the days of old,—
Still in thy newer guise
Be thou a home for all that wears
The look of heaven—a crowded fold
Of saintly memories!
O temple of the Changeless One,
Who, with thy sister fanes, dost preach
Stability in change,—
Still stand, and see the Gospel sun
Grow brighter toward the west, and teach
Our hearts a nobler range:
Who, with thy sister fanes, dost preach
Stability in change,—
Still stand, and see the Gospel sun
Grow brighter toward the west, and teach
Our hearts a nobler range:
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Stand thro' the veering times—the crash
And hurry, as the thickening years
Throng upward to the goal;
And see baptizing billows wash
The nations into hope from tears,
And see the scared mist roll.
And hurry, as the thickening years
Throng upward to the goal;
And see baptizing billows wash
The nations into hope from tears,
And see the scared mist roll.
And when the giant morn that grows
Thro' paling dusk from day to day
Shall bring unclouded Truth,
Be thou too there, thy reverend brows
Flush'd with a mother's pride, and say
With accents as in youth—
Thro' paling dusk from day to day
Shall bring unclouded Truth,
Be thou too there, thy reverend brows
Flush'd with a mother's pride, and say
With accents as in youth—
“The rich grass of my children's graves
Slopes thick between me and the sea,—
And each beloved name
I knew, has floated o'er the waves
Within that better Home to be—
But I am still the same.”
Slopes thick between me and the sea,—
And each beloved name
I knew, has floated o'er the waves
Within that better Home to be—
But I am still the same.”
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