The Sanctuary A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery |
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Twenty-Second Sunday after Trinity.
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 | The Sanctuary |  |
Twenty-Second Sunday after Trinity.
“Ye are of God, little children.”
—1 John iv. 4.
‘He who hath begun a good work in you, will perform it, until the day of Jesus Christ.”
—Epistle for the Day.
Children, to faith, are sacred Things,
Tokens and types of purity
Under the Church's ever-brooding wings,—
When reverence their souls can see
Baptised in God's Own trinitarian Name,
And heritors of more than Angels claim.
Tokens and types of purity
Under the Church's ever-brooding wings,—
When reverence their souls can see
Baptised in God's Own trinitarian Name,
And heritors of more than Angels claim.
215
Yet, little can this Age of art,
Of science, culture, and proud skill,
In that deep mystery partake a part
Prophetic Conscience should fulfil,—
Watching young souls, which ripen into prayer,
Foster'd by hidden beams of heaven-light, there.
Of science, culture, and proud skill,
In that deep mystery partake a part
Prophetic Conscience should fulfil,—
Watching young souls, which ripen into prayer,
Foster'd by hidden beams of heaven-light, there.
But, in our wonder-crowded earth
No marvels can so much reveal,
As infant-spirits,—when, through second birth,
They upward into glory steal,
Through sin and sorrow, weakness, toil, and strife
Ascending God-ward, with celestial life.
No marvels can so much reveal,
As infant-spirits,—when, through second birth,
They upward into glory steal,
Through sin and sorrow, weakness, toil, and strife
Ascending God-ward, with celestial life.
Sun, moon, and star, and sea and land,
The elements, and all they hold,
Have nothing in them so divinely-grand
As what infantine hearts enfold,
As, day by day, some charms of secret grace
Dawn into light, which Love alone can trace.
The elements, and all they hold,
Have nothing in them so divinely-grand
As what infantine hearts enfold,
As, day by day, some charms of secret grace
Dawn into light, which Love alone can trace.
Precious as pure, the warbled hymn!
The first faint buds of oral praise;
And, like deep glances caught from Cherubim,
The looks devoted infants raise
When, gently lifting their entrancèd eye,
They worship Jesus, and believe Him, nigh.
The first faint buds of oral praise;
And, like deep glances caught from Cherubim,
The looks devoted infants raise
When, gently lifting their entrancèd eye,
They worship Jesus, and believe Him, nigh.
Fancy and feeling, ne'er alone,
In childhood's depth and dawn can view
Those higher instincts, which the Church may own
And in them hail His presence true,
Who gives to nature, what no Flesh imparts,—
The vestal pureness of regen'rate hearts.
In childhood's depth and dawn can view
Those higher instincts, which the Church may own
And in them hail His presence true,
Who gives to nature, what no Flesh imparts,—
The vestal pureness of regen'rate hearts.
And, holy as parental love
To earth and time must ever be,
Unless anointed by a grace above,
And so, by faith from sin set free,—
What is it, but idolatrous delight
In mortal good, with God kept out of sight?
To earth and time must ever be,
Unless anointed by a grace above,
And so, by faith from sin set free,—
What is it, but idolatrous delight
In mortal good, with God kept out of sight?
216
Child-loving Lord! from Thee we learn
A sacredness to childhood clings,
And, in Thine incarnation can discern
What mercy unto manhood brings,—
When the dread Second of the Godhead deign'd
To suffer here, where sin and Satan reign'd.
A sacredness to childhood clings,
And, in Thine incarnation can discern
What mercy unto manhood brings,—
When the dread Second of the Godhead deign'd
To suffer here, where sin and Satan reign'd.
The laver of regen'rate life
From whence baptismal waters flow,
Saviour! forbid that our unhallow'd strife
Should change it to a fount of Woe,—
By impious mocks, whose doubting tones repel
Man from his God, and make earth nearer hell.
From whence baptismal waters flow,
Saviour! forbid that our unhallow'd strife
Should change it to a fount of Woe,—
By impious mocks, whose doubting tones repel
Man from his God, and make earth nearer hell.
Still do Thine arms of wreathing love
Encircle infants, as of old,
When soaring hearts survey Thy throne above,
And on that Glory-seat behold
The Virgin-born, whose sacramental Word
Round every cradle by the Church is heard.
Encircle infants, as of old,
When soaring hearts survey Thy throne above,
And on that Glory-seat behold
The Virgin-born, whose sacramental Word
Round every cradle by the Church is heard.
| The Sanctuary | |