University of Virginia Library

ORACLES OF TRUTH

Hail, glorious Lights, kindled at God's own urn,
Salt of the nations—whence the soul imbue
Savours of Godhead, virtues pure and true,
So that all die not—whence serenely burn
In their bright Orbs sure Truth and Virtue bold,
Putting on virgin honours undefiled:
Bounteous by you the World's Deliverer mild
Of treasured wisdom deals His stores untold.
Hail! channels where the living waters flow,
Whence the Redeemer's field shows fair, and glow
The golden harvests: ye from realms above
Bring meat for manly hearts, and milk for babes in love.
These bear, great God, Thy sword and shield;
These rear th' eternal Palace Hall;
Skill'd with one hand Thine arms to wield,
With one to build Thy Wall.
Ye in your bright celestial panoply
O'ercame dark Heresy:
And when her brood from Stygian night
Renew the fight,
We too may grasp your arrows bright;
E'en till this hour we combat in your mail,
And with no doubtful end—we combat and prevail.
Hail! Heavenly truth, guiding the pen
Of wise and holy men;
To thee, though thou be voiceless, doth belong
A spirit's tongue,
Which in the heart's deep home, uttereth a song.