Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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NULLA CRUX, O QUANTA CRUX!
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
NULLA CRUX, O QUANTA CRUX!
ST. AUGUSTINE.
God unknown and yet so clear,
'Twixt the tear drop and the tear,
Girdled round by hope and fear,
In this cosmic ebb and flux,
One thing doth Thy servant know,
Out of passing pomp and show,
With their awful afterglow—
Nulla crux, O quanta crux!
'Twixt the tear drop and the tear,
Girdled round by hope and fear,
In this cosmic ebb and flux,
One thing doth Thy servant know,
Out of passing pomp and show,
With their awful afterglow—
Nulla crux, O quanta crux!
Lord, I am an ignorant child,
Always weak and sometimes wild,
And with sinning sore defil'd,
Yet I have this wisdom won
From the flushing of the flower,
At the triumph of the tower,
In the pride of noonday power—
That the heaviest cross is none.
Always weak and sometimes wild,
And with sinning sore defil'd,
Yet I have this wisdom won
From the flushing of the flower,
At the triumph of the tower,
In the pride of noonday power—
That the heaviest cross is none.
God unknown, and yet so dear,
Who the voiceless cry dost hear,
And wilt blunt the deadly spear,
I have learnt the greatest loss—
In the fortune fair and bright,
When vain pleasures reach their height,
And the angels take their flight—
Not to have an earthly cross.
Who the voiceless cry dost hear,
And wilt blunt the deadly spear,
I have learnt the greatest loss—
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When vain pleasures reach their height,
And the angels take their flight—
Not to have an earthly cross.
Maker, whom I dimly serve
With a faint and flagging nerve,
Though my footsteps often swerve
Ere the tiniest task is done,
I am taught this solemn fact,
In the thunder of the act
Wrought to bridge an empire's pact—
That the hardest cross is none.
With a faint and flagging nerve,
Though my footsteps often swerve
Ere the tiniest task is done,
I am taught this solemn fact,
In the thunder of the act
Wrought to bridge an empire's pact—
That the hardest cross is none.
God unknown, and yet as nigh
As the sadness to the sigh,
While enthroned in splendour high,
What is gold without the dross?
If no battle hath been fought
And the victory comes unbought
That by suffering was not sought,
What the crown without the cross?
As the sadness to the sigh,
While enthroned in splendour high,
What is gold without the dross?
If no battle hath been fought
And the victory comes unbought
That by suffering was not sought,
What the crown without the cross?
Sovereign, in the sweetest cup,
When with saints I fondly sup,
Yet a shadow riseth up—
In all happiness is one;
Nowise would I wish it less,
If that Thou my portion bless,
Thou mete though in fire distress;
For a sharper cross were none.
When with saints I fondly sup,
Yet a shadow riseth up—
In all happiness is one;
Nowise would I wish it less,
If that Thou my portion bless,
Thou mete though in fire distress;
For a sharper cross were none.
Master, make not day too bright,
Nor the penance brief and light,
Do not take away the night
If the tempests round me toss;
I will not resign one pain,
I will kiss the captive chain,
And renounce the grandest gain,
For the cradling of Thy cross.
Nor the penance brief and light,
Do not take away the night
If the tempests round me toss;
I will not resign one pain,
I will kiss the captive chain,
And renounce the grandest gain,
For the cradling of Thy cross.
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Father, Thine the glory be,
And the burden fall on me,
Till the shadows break and flee,
And the rest falls after flux;
Leave some briars in my crop,
Let me taste the bitter drop,
For, if once Thy chastening stop,
Nulla crux O quanta crux!
And the burden fall on me,
Till the shadows break and flee,
And the rest falls after flux;
Leave some briars in my crop,
Let me taste the bitter drop,
For, if once Thy chastening stop,
Nulla crux O quanta crux!
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