The Sanctuary :: :: University of Virginia Library

Shrined in a sacrament, my Saviour lives
By all save heaven-eyed faith unview'd;
And there, beneath anointed symbols gives
Himself, to be our spirit-food:
Thus by that eucharist our hearts may see
Dwells in Shechinah there incarnate Deity.

Oh! that prevail'd within my spirit now
Such voiceless awe of soul profound,
As once o'ercame me, when, with shaded brow,
Kneeling the Altar-rails around,—
A love which works by supernat'ral law
Proved to adoring mind, what science never saw!

For, cloth'd by matter, comes almighty Grace
Curtain'd in secrecy of spells,
With feeding mystery to form our race
By nourishment, that inly dwells;
Till, strengthen'd thus by elements divine,—
This Manna of the Church may with our souls combine.

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Yes, 'twas a moment, tender, awful, deep,
When first a virgin faith received
Mystical Food, which made it live, and weep;
While, fill'd with prayer, the soul believed
Under the symbols which accost the sense
An omnipresent Christ Himself doth there dispense.

No cold memorials, cautiously defined,
Dead emblems for the carnal eye,
Nor mere emotions to enflame the mind,
In this dread Banquet they descry
Who learn behind the shroud on God to gaze,
And realise by faith far more than sight displays.

In things Divine simplicity is strength
When man becomes a little child;
Learning that secret, all are taught, at length,
Who keep the Symbol undefiled,—
That not to mental force but meekest love
Descend those heaven-born truths, which draw the soul above.

The aching hunger of a foodless heart
Famish'd by guilt and gnaw'd by sin,
Is never soothed by what mere husks impart
While conscience yearns for Christ within,—
Not in the shade and shadow of a Name,
But livingly bestow'd, and felt through all our frame.

O Thou, of sacraments the hidden Seed,
Incarnate Presence! working all,
Eternal Nourisher in what we need
When most for grace thy members call,—
Open our hearts for Thine illapses true,
As dawning flowers expand, to drink the vestal dew.

Thyself we want!—not less, nor more we ask:
Such is the Banquet souls require
To fit them here to face life's burden'd task,
And secretly such aids inspire
That Christ internal may be form'd, and fill
Each faculty men wield, with homage to His will.

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And, what a pang it wakes of with'ring dread
When first Communion age recalls!
Or when we realise the holy dead
While faith before the Altar falls,—
And think how chill'd these time-worn hearts can be,
With soaring youth compared and young simplicity!

Lord! grant a praying zeal, whose pureness glows
With more than what from earth proceeds,
That in Thine Eucharist, where grace o'erflows
To meet our spirit's inmost needs,—
Each hoar'd Communicant again may find
In that high feast of heaven what once o'eraw'd his mind.

We are not wise, because experience learns
What crafty worldliness imparts,
Or, mere acuteness through proud culture learns
By hollow intercourse of hearts:
For sacred wisdom is a gift divine
No spirit can produce, except, O Lord! 'tis Thine.

They learn the Saviour best, who love Him most;
Taught by simplicity and prayer
Man's true religion, which the Holy Ghost
Shrines in that Church our creeds declare,—
Whose truths enclose a sacramental plan
For bringing heaven to earth, by weaning self from man.