The Sanctuary A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Monday before Easter.
|
|
|
|
 | The Sanctuary |  |
Monday before Easter.
“Where is the guest-chamber, where I shall eat the passover?”
—Gospel for the Day.
Oh! if indeed, the hunger'd mind
And thirsting heart for Jesus long,
Then, will they not meet nurture find
To nurse, and make religion strong?—
Incarnate God! such mystic food
Thine Own ordaining words supplied,
Which in Thy Body and Thy Blood
A banquet for the soul provide.
And thirsting heart for Jesus long,
Then, will they not meet nurture find
To nurse, and make religion strong?—
Incarnate God! such mystic food
Thine Own ordaining words supplied,
Which in Thy Body and Thy Blood
A banquet for the soul provide.
Thy sacred Flesh, oh! let us eat,
And drink the awful Wine-blood, there,
While faith Thy bleeding Form can greet
Amid the swell of deep-toned prayer:—
The blast and blight of unbelief
Those famish'd hearts alone infect,
Who feel no pang of holy grief
When men such angel-food neglect.
And drink the awful Wine-blood, there,
While faith Thy bleeding Form can greet
Amid the swell of deep-toned prayer:—
The blast and blight of unbelief
Those famish'd hearts alone infect,
Who feel no pang of holy grief
When men such angel-food neglect.
148
Soul of our souls! almighty Grace,
A sacramental life impart,
And, by some inward power, erase
Whatever dulls the deaden'd heart:
For holiness a hunger give,
And yearnings of intenser love
That we on Christ may learn to live,
Like daily Manna, from above.
A sacramental life impart,
And, by some inward power, erase
Whatever dulls the deaden'd heart:
For holiness a hunger give,
And yearnings of intenser love
That we on Christ may learn to live,
Like daily Manna, from above.
In heaven abides no Sacrament;
Nor signs, nor symbols, there abound
When Glory with its full content
Shall each elected Saint have crown'd:—
Adorn'd in robes of radiant white,
They neither thirst, nor hunger more,
Who bask in beams of pure delight
With all their toils and trials o'er.
Nor signs, nor symbols, there abound
When Glory with its full content
Shall each elected Saint have crown'd:—
Adorn'd in robes of radiant white,
They neither thirst, nor hunger more,
Who bask in beams of pure delight
With all their toils and trials o'er.
Around the Throne, in rich array,
Perfect and sinless are they now,
And in God's temple, night and day
Before that Shrine of glory bow,—
The Lamb Himself their food supplies,
And on His fulness they can feed,
Who follow Him with tearless eyes
Where paths to living fountains lead.
Perfect and sinless are they now,
And in God's temple, night and day
Before that Shrine of glory bow,—
The Lamb Himself their food supplies,
And on His fulness they can feed,
Who follow Him with tearless eyes
Where paths to living fountains lead.
| The Sanctuary | |