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Hymns and Poems

Original and Translated: By Edward Caswall ... Second Edition

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 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
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 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
XXXV. A REMONSTRANCE.
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
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XXXV. A REMONSTRANCE.

Dear friends, I know you mean your best,
Thinking to serve your Lord and mine,
When thus you pluck me from your breast
For having join'd His Church divine.

453

O if ye knew!—but words are vain;
Ye cannot learn what ye despise:
And it is idle to explain
The truth to those who shut their eyes;
Yet I will say, If but ye knew
The things which blindly ye condemn;
Could ye but feel as children do,
And deign for once to learn of them;
Before that Church which now you hate,
That Church which you refuse to hear,
Which in your hearts you execrate,
And which, while you revile, you fear,
O, with what love and joy and trust
Would you not all with one accord
Exult to bow yourselves in dust,
As the pure image of her Lord!
Bethink ye, friends, a day is near—
How near to each, O who can say?—
When falsities will disappear,
And all be seen as clear as day.
Unhappy those who now their eyes
To close against the Truth agree,
But then with sorrow and surprise
Shall be compell'd that Truth to see!
Pause and reflect; your time is short;
Soon will this hurried life be o'er:
Too late perchance ye may be taught
What might have saved if learnt before!