The Sanctuary A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery |
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Fourth Sunday after Trinity.
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 | The Sanctuary |  |
Fourth Sunday after Trinity.
“The sufferings of this present time.”
—Epistle for the Day.
A silent pang, a tearless woe,
A mystic sorrow none can see,
Haunts the cold depths of heart below
In many a child of Misery,
Whose face is silver'd with a radiant smile,
Making the gay world think, that all is glad, the while!
A mystic sorrow none can see,
Haunts the cold depths of heart below
In many a child of Misery,
Whose face is silver'd with a radiant smile,
Making the gay world think, that all is glad, the while!
And shades of calm dejection brood
And hover round the unvoic'd mind
Of men, whose thinking solitude
Is unreveal'd to human-kind;—
Though seen by worldlings in their outer-life,
God and the Angels scan alone their mental strife.
And hover round the unvoic'd mind
Of men, whose thinking solitude
Is unreveal'd to human-kind;—
Though seen by worldlings in their outer-life,
God and the Angels scan alone their mental strife.
The blood-red shadows of The Cross
Their inward visions daily view,
Who count that gain an impious loss
Which is not to their Master true:
Earth, scene, and time from Him derive a spell,
Shading existence o'er with hues no words can tell!
Their inward visions daily view,
Who count that gain an impious loss
Which is not to their Master true:
Earth, scene, and time from Him derive a spell,
Shading existence o'er with hues no words can tell!
It is not, that some morbid dream,
Or, sickliness of selfish thought
Has made our orb of being seem
With God-concealing darkness fraught;—
All which Heaven made, their creed divine can own
And hail redeeming Love on vast creation's throne.
Or, sickliness of selfish thought
Has made our orb of being seem
With God-concealing darkness fraught;—
All which Heaven made, their creed divine can own
And hail redeeming Love on vast creation's throne.
But sin, and grave, and guilt, and tears,
And creedless hearts of crime are found;
And wither'd hopes and warning fears
Darken the brightest mood around;
While, yearnings for the Infinite and Pure
Far from this fading world their wingèd thoughts allure.
And creedless hearts of crime are found;
184
Darken the brightest mood around;
While, yearnings for the Infinite and Pure
Far from this fading world their wingèd thoughts allure.
The infant smile of new-born Day
And choral joy of wave and wind
May symbolise each impulse gay,
That quickens in the happy mind,—
But, souls exist, who in life's gladdest hour
Are strangely overruled by some depressing Power.
And choral joy of wave and wind
May symbolise each impulse gay,
That quickens in the happy mind,—
But, souls exist, who in life's gladdest hour
Are strangely overruled by some depressing Power.
E'en in the charm of social rooms,
When rings the laugh, and loud the glee,
Oft do they feel a sense of tombs
Subdue them, oh, how mournfully!
And in the pealing mirth of marriage-bells
Can hear those under-tones which sound like fun'ral-knells.
When rings the laugh, and loud the glee,
Oft do they feel a sense of tombs
Subdue them, oh, how mournfully!
And in the pealing mirth of marriage-bells
Can hear those under-tones which sound like fun'ral-knells.
And, they have feelings none can know,
Tremors and thrills, no words define,
Transcending all the mimic woe
In painter's hue, or poet's line:—
The Grave, the Judgment, and Eternity,
By prophesy of soul their prescient natures see!
Tremors and thrills, no words define,
Transcending all the mimic woe
In painter's hue, or poet's line:—
The Grave, the Judgment, and Eternity,
By prophesy of soul their prescient natures see!
And oft, with such depression blends
An aching sense, how all departs,
Or, in some fever-vision ends,—
Men worship with impassion'd hearts;
While, bitterly before The Cross, they rue
How much of barter'd life has been to heaven untrue!
An aching sense, how all departs,
Or, in some fever-vision ends,—
Men worship with impassion'd hearts;
While, bitterly before The Cross, they rue
How much of barter'd life has been to heaven untrue!
Then, gaze not with ungentle eye,
Nor coldly speak, nor harshly think
Of those who heave the unheard sigh,
And in their bosom'd darkness sink
Down to despair,—in some benighted mood
When baffled faith endures a more than solitude!
Nor coldly speak, nor harshly think
Of those who heave the unheard sigh,
And in their bosom'd darkness sink
Down to despair,—in some benighted mood
When baffled faith endures a more than solitude!
Heroes, and Saints, and Martyrs learn
From perill'd moments, dark as these,
A deeper lore than men discern
Who only live, blind sense to please:—
The tears of Jesus on the Church's heart
For them have left a trace, they would not see depart!
From perill'd moments, dark as these,
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Who only live, blind sense to please:—
The tears of Jesus on the Church's heart
For them have left a trace, they would not see depart!
Dejection is indeed sublime,
When thus on wings of faith we rise,
And, soaring out of space and time,
Converse with Angels in the skies;
And in yon realm, where Love incarnate reigns,
That Jubilee rehearse, which breaks all mortal chains.
When thus on wings of faith we rise,
And, soaring out of space and time,
Converse with Angels in the skies;
And in yon realm, where Love incarnate reigns,
That Jubilee rehearse, which breaks all mortal chains.
| The Sanctuary | |