Easter Even.
“It is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well-doing,
than for evil-doing.”
—Epistle for the Day.
Hosannah! cry celestial Hearts
Whom persecution brands,
And bear, unmoved, infernal darts
When hurl'd by godless hands;
'Tis thus, the soldiers of the Truth are train'd,—
Those heroes of the Lord, who heaven's own laurels gain'd.
By love, and patient suff'ring led,
More Christlike men become;
And, meekly while the path we tread
Which leads our spirit home,—
Our graces brighten, while they vanquish woe,
And saintly virtue springs from soils where trials grow.
And, do we not corruption feel
Our purest dreams assail,
While wounds which grace alone can heal
Make harrow'd conscience pale?—
But, these are cleansed by consecrated fire,
As persecuted saints more soaringly aspire.
When clothed with age, or clad with youth,
Whate'er life's era be,
Men glorify the force of truth
Who God in anguish see;
And prove, what strength His promises impart
Who, high upon His Throne, can hear the fainting heart!
In all things should the Church reflect
Her regal Lord divine;
And ne'er with sin, or change, or sect,
Her vestal charms
combine:
To suffer, is the privilege of love,—
In which the saints outsoar, what Angels do above.
Then, wonder not, if sighs or tears,
Or contumelious shame,
Inweave the web of perill'd years,
Nor God's deep wisdom blame;
But rather, in Earth's malediction see
A shadow of the Cross—endured, O Lord, by Thee.
Those peerless graces hearts require
To fit the saints for heaven,
Are burnish'd by that sacred fire
To martyr'd anguish given:—
Love, faith, and valour, are the three which make
The stature of the Soul her full perfection take.
