The Sanctuary :: :: University of Virginia Library

The conscious spirit of dejected earth
Hath groan'd and travail'd for that second birth
The harp of Prophecy exults to sing
And with whose glories David's numbers ring.—
Though perfect once, when Adam fell
'Twas wither'd by a wasting spell
When down on air and earth and sea
Lighted the curse of Deity,—
While that dread Nemesis which seized on man
Reach'd o'er the world, and through creation ran!

Dumb Matter seems intelligently grieved
As though it sympathised with man bereaved,
In dark remembrance of that Eden-crime
When flesh and spirit fell from bliss sublime:—
But Nature waits with prescient eye
For bridal glories drawing nigh,
And thus accords with saints who yearn
For throned Emanuel's bright return,
When those vile thraldoms that enchain the heart
In one vast jubilee of love depart.

And hence, in unison with mystic earth,
Saints feel the throes of supernat'ral birth,—
A deep unrest which inly yearns to share
That sinless freedom heaven and hope declare

265

Yet to await Thy Church, O Lord,
Where reigns Thy will and rules Thy word;
Till not one pulse of heart shall be
That throbs with no delight in Thee,
While earth and man millennially express
A second Eden, graced with holiness.

And blest art Thou, maternal Guide for all
Who lovingly obey thy creed and call,
(Now at the shrine where viewless Angels stand
To see men worship as their souls expand—
Thus to prepare by tones of awe
Thy children for omniscient Law
Whose purity and precept teach
Perfection souls can never reach,—
But still would realise, when faith is true
And Christ the Archetype retain'd in view.

Thou only Cleanser from indwelling sin,
Spirit of purity! thy reign begin;
The wav'ring pulses of regen'rate will
Though beating homeward, play imperfect, still:—
Attracted by contagious power
They vibrate through each perill'd hour;
While treason-throbs of selfish pride
Are often by the heart descried
When most it yearns before the Altar-rail
To let no Master but the Lord prevail!

Heart searching God! Oh, who can thus exclaim,
Nor feel the blushes of remorseful shame
Pierce through his conscience as with pangs of fire,
And silence more than quiv'ring speech inspire—
To think of man's denuded heart
Cover'd by no concealing art
Pierced through and through by That pure Eye
Whose beams the sinless angels try!—
Alas, for guilt, if when Thy truth be known
Men see no Saviour on the mercy-throne!

266

Come then, sole Calmer of our spirit-fears
By all Thy sacrifice of Blood and Tears!
And so renew us with regen'rate fires
That sin may perish, as the saint aspires
By thought and action more and more
In self to sink, in Christ to soar,
And thus ethereally sublime
Break from the bonds of space and time,
Wing'd on bright hopes which waft him far away
To sinless realms where no earth-shadows play.

The fetter'd eagle when he feels his chain,
Frets at each link, and longs to fly again
Far o'er the thunder-cloud in wheeling flight
And bathe his plumage in celestial light:—
So yearns the saint from sin to part
When drags the earth-chain at his heart,
And longs with agonising sigh
Beyond this flesh-bound world to fly,
And in yon heaven of holiness to find
A perfect centre for the soaring mind.

Rom. viii. 22

Isaiah lxi. 1.

Ephes. iii. 10.

Psalm cxxxix. 6.

Jerem. xvii. 10.

The Commandments.

“Then shall the Priest, turning to the People, rehearse distinctly all the Ten Commandments.” —Rubric.

Two Wills the universe divide
But One supremely reigns;
Or God must be undeified
While sin the mast'ry gains.

In perfect union limitless,
Eternally the same,—
Dread glories of almightiness
Enshrine Jehovah's Name!

Coëqually thus Law and Love
Together act and blend,

267

Proceeding from that Power above
Who is their source and end.

Avaunt, then, ye unhallow'd spells!
By whose seductive power
Sinai no more its thunder knells
Round Satan's tempting hour.

An image of Eternal Mind,
So far as words can be,
The Law reveals to lost mankind
Thyself,—transcribed by Thee;

By Thee, O God, in Whom to think
A moral change can move,
Would make the highest angel shrink
And darken heaven above!

“Thy Law to keep, our hearts incline,”
Be this our inmost prayer;
And then, will holy radiance shine
On all we do, and are.

In covenant, though Law be dead,
As ruling power, it lives;
And children, by the Spirit led,
Walk in the light it gives.

It glorifies Emmanuel's Blood,
Irradiates the Cross;
And proves that God is perfect good,
And sin, the only loss.

Sinai in thunder and in threat
Soften'd by Calv'ry's tone,—
Both we require, and dare not yet
Listen to each alone.

Thus ever may omniscient Law
Deep in our bosom dwell,
And every pulse of passion awe,
Or break its guilty spell.

268

O Thou! in whom the Law divine
Its perfect Type approved,
Chasten our wills to copy Thine
And choose what Thou hast loved.

Maternal teacher of God's truth,
Guardian of glorious creeds,—
Thy Church will thus in age and youth
Answer immortal needs:

Since Love and Law in her express
Their unison of aim,
And clothe with awful loveliness
Jehovah's worshipp'd Name.

Collect for the Queen.

“Duly considering Whose authority she hath.” —Prayer Book.

To this low earth by God are given
Shadows of wondrous things in heaven;
And by them dim-eyed Man is taught
To educate regen'rate thought,
And rise, by Truth's ascending scale,
To where in light and life prevail
Those archetypes of perfect bliss
Which in the breast of Godhead dwell:—
And Christ ordain'd a creed like this
His Church should hold, and guard it well.

Vast Nature in her varied path
A sacramental meaning hath;
Soil, air and sun, and moon and sea
Are parable and poetry
Divinely-touch'd with teaching powers,
To symbolise in sacred hours
Mysterious works which God and grace
Are in the realm of Spirit acting,
Till earth becomes a hallow'd place
An endless liturgy transacting.

269

Why marvel, then, that King and Queen
Have ever in our temples been
Enshrined, amid due praise and prayer,
And hymn'd in high memorials, there?
Since regal power reflects to man
A scepter'd image of that plan
Where Monarchy Incarnate rules.—
Thus, kingly brows our faith reveres,
And by obedience conscience schools
A loyal heart for higher spheres.

The witchcraft of rebellion, Lord,
Is blasted by thy searing Word!
“The Powers that be” from heaven derive
Sanctions, from whence they fitly strive
To helm the pride of lawless will
And bid fraternal Man fulfil
All duties awful justice owns,
Which bind us each to each in love:—
And hence, we learn from human thrones
To bend before The Throne above.

Princes involve a public Heart
Where empires own a vital part;
The type, the standard, and the tone
Of morals,—in them myriads own,
And as they seem to rise or fall
Virtues or vices sway us all:
Thus, Church and State in concord meet,
Act and re-act, for weal or woe,
And saints around the Mercy-seat
To both express how much they owe.

Lord of all Lords, Thou King of Kings,
Whose Throne around that anthem rings
Whose sempiternal lauds proclaim
That Holy! Holy! is Thy Name,—
Shield Thine adoring Church who prays,
And lifts to Thee her asking gaze.

270

In Thy dread Hand imperial hearts
Are beating, for mysterious sway;
And secret grace a power imparts
To keep the pure and perfect way.

And while Britannia's ancient crown
Beams o'er the world with bright renown,
Let thought and will, and word and deed
So in the light of Law proceed,
That Monarchy in heart and mind
To God and glory be inclined:
For then will Church and Crown express
Distinct but undivided worth,
And mercies brighten while they bless
The Land of their associate birth.

The first of Subjects, as of Kings,—
Emmanuel His obedience brings
To awe rebellion into dread
By fury or by faction led,
When rampant wills that Law decline
Which proved, O Lord! perfection Thine:
Rather by meekness let us learn
Man's crowning grace in Christ to see,
And from His life this law discern,—
Obedience is true liberty.

1 Sam. xv. 23.

“The hearts of kings are in thy rule and governance” —Collect.

John v. 30.

Collect, Epistle, and Gospel for the Day.

“Then shall be said the Collect of the day. And immediately after, the Priest shall read the Epistle ------ then shall be read the Gospel.” —Rubric.

Scripture, the spirit,—form the Church imparts
Of true religion to baptisèd hearts
Who on her creed and counsel live,
And aye with filial rev'rence give
Both faith and feeling to that watchful care,—
Whether we soar on praise, or sink in contrite prayer.

271

Thus at the Altar by maternal voice
She warns her children; and with trembling choice
A threefold spell electeth now
To bring upon the heart and brow
Solemnity,—which marks each awing word
Wafted from lips ordain'd in Thy blest Name Oh Lord!

Coëval with past Liturgies whose tone
Breathes a pure strain Apostles seem to own,—
Is that dread Rite wherein we learn
Myst'ries divine, which saints discern
Who on that sacrifice by faith can feed
Where Christ himself becomes the Nourishment they need.

Thus did the Jew his paschal feast partake
And into worship grateful mem'ry wake
By reading—how the Angel swept
O'er Egypt's clime, and safely kept
Beneath his plumes in that passover-flight
The blood-saved host of God, whom heaven preserved by night.

And, like the mission'd Seventy, who were sent
To herald forth the great Omnipotent,
Select Epistles now declare
His Advent; and the heart prepare
By truths and tones which harbinger the way
For that Incarnate Love which feeds our souls to-day.

Now, “Glory be to Thee and Thine, O Lord,”
Such be that strain through all our temples pour'd!—
A God in language cometh He
Whose Gospel breathes of Deity,
Where not a syllable but burns and glows
With that celestial might His majesty bestows.

And let adoring myriads at the sound
Rise with due awe; and while the aisles rebound
With choral echoes loud and long,
Still may consenting hearts prolong

272

That laud of glory unto Jesu given,—
Throned in our temples now, as truly as in heaven.

By gesture thus we symbolise to man
Far as mere body unto spirit can,
Both rev'rent mind and ready will
Our Lord to worship, and fulfil
His kingly precepts with heroic zeal
Whatever be that doom the royal Law reveal.

A verbal eucharist are words divine
Whose depths a sacramental God enshrine;
And hence those hearts can inly feed
And satisfy immortal need,
Who in such paschal food of language share
Realities which prove Emanuel present there.

Collect, Epistle, and Gospel.

Nicene Creed.

“The Gospel ended, shall be sung or said the Creed following.” —Rubric.

When from the Past we lift that hoary pall
Which mantles time and space and scene
And in some resurrection-dream recall
The buried grandeurs that have been,—
Dead Empires quicken with historic breath
And life comes wafted from a world of death.

But what so thrills us with admiring awe
As deeds and darings, that display'd
God's heroes in the Church which martyrs saw,
When, resting on no mutual aid,
They witness'd unto blood that Creed divine
Where all pure doctrines in the Cross combine?

Thus, when for council, Rome's converted king
Summon'd the listening East and West,
In pledge of faith-born unity, to bring
A Symbol where all Churches rest,—

273

Seldom has Hist'ry unto hearts unroll'd
Such touching grandeurs as we there behold!

Then, maim'd and marr'd by heathen wound
The Apostolic watchmen came,
And in one league of living virtue bound
All who adored their Master's Name,—
Ever to keep by falsehood undefiled
The Creeds which sanctify both man and child.

And can we doubt, those Priests and Prelates hoary
Enthroned amid the palace-hall,
Eclipse all gods who reign in human story
And round whose thrones adorers fall,—
And thus, unpurified by fast or prayer,
Mistake for glory what is sinful glare!

But what these mitred witnesses proclaim'd
Our sacred Mother echoes still:
By crushing Wrong unsilenced and unshamed,—
In faith she has no choosing will,
But hands unmarr'd that true Deposit down
Which consecrates alike her cross and crown.

Nor let the worshipper of godless Mind
With mocking wonder, question how
Renew'd confessions in the Church can bind
Our hearts to keep their holy vow:—
Not to inform, but to affect the Man,
Proves the deep wisdom of our Church's plan.

Hence repetition is the law of growth;
Not light, but love, souls mainly need:
And ancient Liturgies provide for both
By concord of a double Creed,—
Where each to each imparts some genial tone
Whose true distinctness makes communion known.

Confession is of creeds the vocal life;
Without it, none in Christ are saved;

274

Baptised for conflict, superhuman strife
Heroic saints have nobly braved;
Nor breathes there in the Host elect on high
One spirit that will dare the Creeds deny.

Salvation's Captain! though a Prince of Peace,
Under Thy banner we are met
And, panoplied by grace, will never cease
To lift that spirit-war-cry yet—
“My love was crucified; and I must be
Lord of my will! self-crucified with Thee.”

A perfect touchstone and a probing test
The Church for souls hath thus supplied;
And searchingly by symbols now confest
The treach'rous depth of conscience tried,—
Lest haply in some vague and vast “believe”
Our suicidal hearts themselves deceive.

So in the face of earth and hell and heaven
Let saints and fiends and angels hear
A full-toned witness to our “Credo!” given,—
Which falters with no coward fear
But upward soaring with resistless flight
Enters the ears of Him Who dwells in light.

Almighty Feeder of the famish'd soul
Both Priest and Sacrifice in one,
Shed o'er Thine Altar a sublime control
Till heaven, by holiness begun,—
Inly transform the sacrificial mind
And Saints adore Thee, in themselves enshrined.

Consult Sozomen and Theodoret.

Apostles' and Nicene Creed.

Rom. x. 10.

Ephes. iii. 17.

275

Offertory.

“Begin the Offertory.” —Rubric.

When Death itself on Calv'ry died
Hosannah! wond'ring Angels cried
Who saw in that abyss of love
A Miracle unknown above,—

God in depression!—'Twas a sight
Whose dreadful glories, over-bright,
Seem'd to appal their wing-veil'd eyes
As though the earth outshone the skies.

Thus, mystic radiance robes the Cross,
And in the depths of Adam's loss
The Incarnation bids us see
All grace can do and God can be.

But still in vain, with verbal glow
Mere lips of doctrine overflow,
If no true sacrifice can seal
By outward stamp our inward zeal.

The christian Altar claims a trine
Of blended acts, in which combine
Forgiveness, charity, and gift,—
Which up to heaven the heart uplift.

Alas for us, if formal grown,
A fast or sigh, or tears alone,
Be all th' oblations men can bring
Who call The Crucified their King!

Fasting and Alms,—between them stands
Devotion, when the mind expands,
And plumed on double wing would rise
To greet Her Master in the skies.

276

And did not He by Whom we live
Himself as passive off'ring give,
And bid us on His mystic shrine
Love-tokens lay of truth divine?

Bright centre of consummate love!
Whence radiate to worlds above
Expressions of almighty grace
Eternity will not erase,—

Thou Cross! the crest of Calvary,
Religion moves and breathes in Thee;
And they are mockers dead and cold
Who do not in Thy light behold

A Model and a Motive pure,
Of sin and self the perfect cure,—
Transforming with a spell divine
The hearts which rest, oh Lord! on Thine.

And days have bloom'd, when such the zeal
Enrapt adorers lov'd to feel,
That jewell'd vestments rich and rare,
Charters and Deeds, combined with prayer,

And Lands and Rev'nues,—all encrown'd
The christian Altar, and around
The central Presence of The Lord
A wealth of boundless worship pour'd.

But times prevail, when lip and life,
To God reveal an impious strife;
The first,—celestial in its tone,
The last,—is self, and self alone!

Blest Giver of enlarging grace
Regenerate the human race;
And on Thy Cross, before we die
Our earth-chain'd feelings crucify,

277

Till body soul and spirit be
A holocaust of love to Thee,
While soaring prayers like incense rise
To consecrate the sacrifice.

Offertory-Sentences.

“Begin the Offertory, saying one or more of these sentences.” Rubric.

Divine Parnassus for the priests of song
To whom all consecrated harps belong,
Mountain of grace, mysterious Calvary!
May ev'ry minstrel's heaven-toned lyre
Tell how Thy glories can inspire
The might and magic of true poetry.

But, crested by the holy Cross, thou art
A more than Poem to the pure in heart,
Whose inward-vision sees that Symbol there,
Whence sacramental meanings flow
That kindle adoration's glow,—
Melting with praise or murmur'd into prayer.

Yet, throbs and thrills emotional and keen,
Like those awaken'd by some wonder-scene
Where tragedy excites and tears reply,—
What are they more than fairy gleams
Which fascinate our earth-born dreams
And cheat the conscience with bright mockery?

No life is felt, except devoted love
The Will can crucify for Christ above,
Whose Cross transfigures all its spells can reach:—
Who touches it, a virtue gains
That o'er his inmost fibre reigns
And tells him truths, which Martyrs died to teach!

But should'st thou waver in some unwatch'd hour,
Nor feel Thy Saviour's crucifying power

278

Soften the heart with love's o'ermast'ring sway,—
The Church accosts thee with a tone
Maternal, such as infants own
When erring fancies lead young feet astray.

In vain by litanies we cry “oh, Lord!”
And mock His Throne with man's beseeching word
Lull'd by the lip-work of a fruitless prayer;—
Oblations Christ and Church require
To mingle with that spirit-fire
The living altar of the heart feeds there.

All Saints are jewels in Emanuel's Crown,
Gems of His Church by glory and renown,
The talk of angels and the theme of heaven:
But in that list the martyr'd poor
Who faint beside the rich man's door
Are most like Him, to Whom such lot was given!

Blest be her wisdom then, who, ere we lift
Our hands to hold God's everlasting Gift
Here in His Eucharist of dying love,—
With urgency divinely-true
Opens the heavens for hearts to view
The Lord of charity enshrined above.

Preluding strains may thus the mind prepare
For more devotion than mere lips declare;
While Faith o'erawed, upon adoring knees,
Under that veil of mystic Food
Which garbs “The Body and the Blood,”
Her God in sacrificial glory sees.

Lord of true sacrifice! Thou Lamb of souls,
When charity like Thine the heart controls
How dear the sad, and how sublime the poor!
Spirits on fire, then inly melt
As though their inmost centre felt
Christ forming in them, Whom their lips adore.

Gal. iv. 17.

279

Prayer for the Church Militant.

“Let us pray for the whole state of Christ's Church militant here in earth.” —Rubric.

Thou dread Supreme! an unimagined God
The Source and End of beings all,
Under the shadow of Whose sceptral rod
Ordain'd creations rise and fall,—
To Thine eternity of boundless love
Our blending adorations rise
And in that Priest of priests Who prays above
Hails the deep Heart which echoes all her sighs!

Now while the alms upon Thine Altar rest
For consecration pure and true,
To yon calm region of the bright and blest
In faith we lift an asking view,—
That charity beyond our alms may reach
And act the Saviour's part,
Whose tones of Mercy to His kingdom teach
The holy largeness of a loving heart.

In this behold a miracle of prayer!
Timeless and boundless it extends;
And, wing'd by omnipresence, everywhere
Circles alike both foes and friends:—
Far as the pulse of mortal nature beats
Or feeble man is known or found,
For ransom'd souls the sainted Church entreats
Till answ'ring mercies brighten and abound.

But for the Mystic Body of the Lord
Here militant on earth below,
Intensely be our true devotions pour'd
And kindled with seraphic glow;

280

Since all around her marshall'd forces wait
To overwhelm her cause and creed,
And crush the holiness harsh worldlings hate
When Christ is rev'renced as our grandest need.

But, Truth is panoplied by arms divine;
And saints beside the Altar kneeling
Heroic graces from God's inner-shrine
Feel o'er their hearts sublimely stealing;
And while their soaring intercessions rise
Like angel-wings to worlds on high,
Emmanuel gives from His almighty store,
Victorious energies which never die!

And not for living saints alone we pray
With deepest intercession, now;
But for the dead and dear long pass'd away
Is gently heard the low-breathed vow.
What, though the perfect bliss which Christ imparts
Surpasses all earth calls divine,
And heaven is mirror'd by those sinless hearts
Pillow'd in peaceful rapture, Lord, on Thine,—

Yet as of old amid sepulchral gloom
The heroes of the Cross were number'd,
And more than glory round each martyr-tomb
Hallow'd the scene wherein they slumber'd,
So would our Church commemorate the Dead
True in her faith who bravely died,
By fellowship with those who burn'd and bled
And sang, hosannah! to the Crucified.

Oh, ye, the bodiless, the bright, the blest
Who never sin and no more die,
Yours is the pangless home of perfect rest
In bowers of bloom beyond the sky!—
No tears, no troubles mar that placid joy
A soul beatified must feel,
Whom heaven and holiness employ
While glory-visions round your spirit steal.

281

How loved ye are! and still to faith alive;
And present oft, when sad and lone
Pale mourners who must weep and strive,
Bearing some voiceless pang unknown,—
In musing walk and melancholy hour
The dead to life recall again;
Or when deep music's resurrection-power
Seems to revive them in some magic strain!

But most we realise the living dead
When round the Altar faith adores
Her God Incarnate, Who empowers the Bread,
And hallow'd wine His Priesthood pours;
For then the Church her full Communion shares
And time and flesh become a name,
And saints, one Body,—whom The Lord declares
On earth united, and in heaven the same.

Heb. vii. 25.

The Warning Prayer.

“Consider the dignity of that holy mystery, and the great peril of the unworthy receiving thereof.” —Prayer Book.

When dark and deep on haggard conscience lie
The haunting shadows of eternity,
No lustre but thy radiant word
Can roll them off, divinest Lord!

For in the truth of that atoning grace
(A bleeding God embodied for our race)
Mercy conceals a vaster gift
Than lauding Angels can uplift.

Transcending praise, its awful virtue is
So infinitely stored with perfect bliss,
Heaven cannot boast more heavenly food,—
Than Jesu's Body, and His Blood!

282

Mysterious elements! Celestial feast,
Where saints the loftiest, and of souls the least
Renew their pardon round the Cross
And count the world, without it, loss,—

Well hath the Church in her most jealous awe
Fenced Thee around by reverential law;
Lest haply with unheeding mind
The sinful come where God is shrined.

For if when sandall'd Moses once drew nigh
A miracle to scan with daring eye,
“Thy shoes remove from off thy feet”
Protected then God's mercy-seat,—

Not less a warning christian hearts require:
For He who dwelt in sacramental fire,
Now in that paschal myst'ry lives
Where Christ His own Passover gives.

Three days of tempest thunder and thick cloud
When Sinai quaked beneath the trumpet loud,
Usher'd the Law, 'ere down it came
In darkness, Deity, and flame!

Nor was there festival, where did not sound
Peals which awoke creation's heart around,
From clanging trumps, whose choral swell
Was echoed back by Israel.

And can we, who on God Incarnate feed,
In times of weaken'd faith, less warning need
Our souls to thrill with tender awe,
Who see what Moses never saw?

For on the Altar of His Cross we find
The sacrifice and Saviour of Mankind
Under the veiling bread and wine
Imparted, by His Word divine.

283

Danger and duty with associate might
Haunt the dread region of this holy rite;
And may our watching Priests be bold
Like great St. Ambrose,—who of old

Cried to the blood-stain'd Monarch, “doff thy crown;
In sackcloth, not in purple, kneel thee down,
And thus abide, and bear thy stain
Till tears have wash'd thee white again!”

By glorious discipline divine as true
Thus may all souls be taught their sins to rue,
And let some dreadless Voice declare
Due penitence, by fast and prayer.

But should the cowardice of conscience fail
And heart-confession shrink to rend the veil,
While dimness, doubt, and mystery,
Dark sinner! overshadow thee,—

Then, to some meek confessor sadly hie
And in his ear thy bosom'd anguish sigh,
And from absolving lips receive
Councils that heal the hearts which grieve.

Though not by pardons vendible and vile
Our priesthood reigns with superstitious guile,
Still hath the Church from heaven derived
High gifts, for which her martyrs strived.

Thou saving Teacher of the Truth and Way,
Spirit of Jesus! unto Thee we pray;
And duly in the Church's tone
Would hear an echo of Thine Own.

Beneath the searching radiance of thy word
Let each wrong impulse be so rightly stirr'd
That, from all guilt and guile set free,
And graced with perfect charity,—

284

With rev'rence at this feast of faith divine
Lamb of Jehovah! both on Thee and Thine
Devout communicants may feed,
And through Thy merit pray and plead:

While each partaker of The Crucified
In living oneness with His Lord allied,
Makes the whole Church appear to be
A mortal shrine for Deity.

Exod. xix. 15.

“Let him come to me and open his grief.” (“Exhortation” in Prayer Book.)

Cor. vi. 16.

Exhortation.

“For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, ye will not refuse to come thereto, being so lovingly called.” —Prayer Book.

As to their eye a soft refreshment yields
The green expression of romantic fields
When town-worn minds a rural glimpse enjoy,
Far from the fev'rish world's impure alloy,—

The shaded aisle of hoar'd Cathedral throws
A calming beauty and a chaste repose
On some lone heart, escaping from the roar
Of turmoil'd cities, through the temple-door.

Like monuments and memories they stand
Of Past and Present worship through the land,—
Those tow'ring Shrines, which point to heaven and say,
“Yonder is Home, and here, the hallow'd way.”

Yet, in this work-day world of grinding care
The people perish for the lack of prayer;
Gold, more than God, their true almighty seems,
And sensual good the summit of their dreams!

285

Thus are we changed by Mammon-worship, now:
The binding spells of our baptismal vow
Too rarely wield their awfulness of truth
O'er ripen'd age or unreflecting youth.

In olden times, a daily priesthood spread
The mystic banquet of immortal Bread
And Wine mysterious,—where Himself imparts
The God Incarnate to communing hearts.

But now by prayerless Apathy forsaken
Our temples stand; and there, by few partaken,—
The sabbath-eucharists divinely feed
Our fainting hunger in some hour of need.

“Savingly-called,” and by the Lord Himself,
We hear no charmer but the cry of self;
And almost guestless that high Table stands
Whose feast is spread by uncreated Hands!

Lamb of our God! of men the Life and Light,
And is it thus we scorn that wondrous Rite
Where all blent graces of The Cross combine
In that dread unity, whose source is Thine?

“This do,”—how often, Christ did not decree
Because in faith our sacrifice is free;
And in the largeness of devoted will
A true remembrance can alone fulfil

That dying summons the Redeemer gave,—
To feed on Him, who came the lost to save:
Alas, that our apostate souls require
More than “do this,” devotion to inspire!

But come thou, and celestial warnings give
Church of that Lord on Whom thy members live;
Chide, pleading Mother! till the coldest feel
Some kindled embers of reviving zeal.

The feign'd excuse of each reluctant soul
Subdue, and silence with ordain'd control;

286

Thrill the dead conscience with a pang of love
And point contrition to its Priest above.”

Did men remember, who th' Inviter is
And in that Banquet how divine the bliss,
Where Food eternal for the famish'd heart
Incarnate! in Thy sacrament Thou art,—

Sure, they would need no eloquence to charm
A slumb'ring conscience out of fatal harm:
One glimpse of Thine own Altar, gracious Lord,
Would rouse them more than Sinai's thunder-word!

Then would Thy saints and angels meet
In constant access round that Mercy-seat
Where dead and living, by communion one,
Blend and embrace in God's almighty Son.

Especial Exhortation.

“As the benefit is great ------ so is the danger great.” Prayer Book.

Those stars that by the language of their beams
Form living syllables of light,
Whereby we spell in reverential dreams
The name of Godhead on the book of Night,—

Oft as their gem-like radiance gleams on high
Amid the hush which is sublime,
Devotion reads with faith's perusing eye
Lessons which lift her out of space and time.

But, most regen'rate hearts will muse on Him
Who oft beneath some midnight-star
Soar'd beyond earth, and with the seraphim
Knelt round the Throne where God and glory are.

287

And doubt we not, that in the trance of night
On some calm mountain, still and cold,
The Man of Sorrows by prophetic sight
His mystic Body did in prayer behold,—

Before Whose eyes in perfect outline stood
Myriads unborn, but doom'd to be,
Who in the Church by sacramental food
Feed their true souls on suff'ring Deity.

Oh, blessed thought! whose inspirations fill
A trembling neophyte with joy,
And when he seeks to do the Saviour's will
Kindles bright hopes no shading fears destroy.—

To think that in this very act perchance
When round the Altar first he kneels
And on the symbols darts a dreading glance,
Christ has foreseen what awed emotion feels!

And Thou art there; and at our side to calm
Church of the Lord! by whisper'd love
Each wounded heart that needs the holy balm
Thine intercessions bring from bowers above.

Now while adoring guests of God advance
In heavenward awe and hush'd array,
Spirit of Truth! may thy celestial glance
Beam through the soul and melt all clouds away.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Whose ransom saved the forfeit soul
When ruin'd nature, by rebellion lost,
Heard dooming thunders of dread vengeance roll,

Let each communicant in Christ uplift
On plumes of prayer the soaring heart;
And God Himself will be that boundless gift
His awful Sacrament will now impart.

288

The Invitation.

“Draw near with faith, and take this Holy Sacrament.” Prayer Book.

Beloved of heaven! now draw ye nigh
Array'd in robes of charity,
(Your sacrifice, a weeping heart)
Who with repentance deep and stern
Would all the guilty past unlearn
And choose in Christ the “better part.”

A filial awe, not slavish fear
Each soul becomes that banquets here
Upon mysterious Bread and Wine;
Under whose shrouding vesture lies
A Presence, which no carnal eyes
Can witness in that wondrous Shrine.

Such manna of celestial food
Is not for angels, bright and good
Whom bleeding death-pangs never bought;
But contrite sinners there may feed
And find what lulls each aching need
With nourishment divinely-fraught.

Repent ye, with a perfect will
Touch'd by the Cross,—resolved to fill
Your onward life with praise and prayer;
So may ye take the meal ye dread,
Who hunger for that mystic Bread
Children of God in Jesus share.

But not the Church can conscience reach;
Her wisdom is, to guide and teach;—
Man's inward virtue still must be
A depth unknown, except to Him
With Whom transcendent Cherubim
Are but created vanity!

289

Dread Searcher of the deepest heart!
Who in Thy pure omniscience art
Reading all spirits through and through,—
In vain would cow'ring saints conceal
Emotions which the purest feel
When prostrate in Thy perfect view.

Rather in self-accusing blame
Renounce they ev'ry mortal claim,
And simply for Salvation trust
On Him who by atonement died
And by that death, as crucified,
Lifted man out of guilt and dust.

Jesus invites each guest to-day:
And by Himself (the living Way),
Kneeling adorer, draw thee nigh.
In Christ be calm; His comfort take
Who agonised for thy dear sake,
And heavenward lift the fainting eye.

Of this be sure,—no seraph-tone
Warbled around His radiant Throne,
Can thrill that ever-human chord
Which vibrates in Emanuel's breast,—
Like sighs to Him from saints who rest
And glory in His living Word;

For, by the Incarnation we
Converge far nearer Deity
Than angels, who around Him shine:—
Sinless they are, but saints are one
Communion with th' Eternal Son,
Adored as human and divine.

290

General Confession.

“Make your humble confession to Almighty God, meekly kneeling upon your knees.” —Prayer Book.

Father of grace! almighty King,
O'er us Thy kneeling suppliants now
Let Mercy wave her softest wing,
While we recall that broken vow
Which, since baptismal life began,
Hath stain'd the child and sullied man.

Confession is Thy pardon-law
By which our guilt may be reversed;
And never saint forgiveness saw
Who did not by bewailment first
His conscience through confession ease,
And seek for Christ, the sole release.

With deepest prayer and downcast eye
And litany of soul-drawn tears,
Lamb of the Church! to Thee we cry
And in Thy merit hide our fears:—
Unnumber'd though our sins be found,
Thy mercies have no bar, nor bound.

Yes, child of guilt! when Jesus died
The awful death of bleeding love,
While darkness o'er The Crucified
Fell from Almighty frowns above,—
Jehovah did Himself proclaim
The sanctions which enshrine His Name.

Thus, Healer of the contrite heart,
In Thine atoning Blood we find
The perfect Antitype Thou art
Of all that soothes and saves Mankind,
When underneath the Cross we groan
And cast our guilt on Christ alone.

291

Justice and Mercy, both in Thee
By miracle of union meet;
And not a ray of Deity
But shines around that mercy-seat,
Where on His Throne of priesthood reigns
A Paraclete for all our pains.

Repentance and renewal, Lord,
Together grant, and thus bestow
The balm which Thy benignant word
Hath promised for that hour of woe
When conscience echoes back the cry,—
“The soul that sinneth, it shall die!”

Absolution.

“Then shall the Priest (or the Bishop, being present) stand up, and turning himself to the People, pronounce this absolution.” —Rubric.

Will God indeed my forfeit-soul forgive?”—
Eternity would one dread echo be,
Except the Lord, with Whom all spirits live,
Waft from His Throne an answer back to thee
Pale questioner!—o'erwhelm'd with dismal awe
When guilt is darken'd by the light of law.

Such was the problem, whose perturbing gloom
Shaded the heart of many a moral sage,
When through his doubt there yawn'd a distant tomb
And conscience shudder'd with a dread presage:—
Hereafter wore the blackness of despair
And threaten'd nought but retribution there.

Oft in some boundless dream when sacred Thought
Seem'd to unfold her wings and soar to God,
Mounting with more than mortal wisdom fraught,
As though divine Imagination trod
Pathways of glory lined by Angel-bands
Who bore it upward with sustaining hands,—

292

Back to the grave when guilt again return'd
How must those ethic bards of Greece and Rome
For some Revealer in that hour have yearn'd,
The way to open whence the pardons come,—
Which now the channels of The Church impart
With perfect clearness to each contrite heart.

Sublime of privilege!—if grateful love
Would reason less and learn to worship more;
Looking through man to Him, Whose heart above
Shrines in its depths an everlasting store
Of comforts, promised through His Priests below
To all who see Him while their mercies flow.

Christ in His Church an omnipresence is,
By realising faith divinely known;
And none deny the sacramental bliss
Of sharing there what sight can never own,—
But intellectual Cains, whose creedless mind
Murders the truth, to make their conscience blind.

Children of God, elect of grace, draw nigh,
Not in the orphanhood of guilt remain;
Fix on yon mercy-seat your lifted eye
And lo, the Lord! in Whom compassions reign;
That true Absolver, o'er whose face benign
God though He is, love marks its human line.

Go, and rehearse heaven's pardon, thou,
And like a Nathan at God's altar stand
Priest of the Lord!—by absolution now
Bid the rich graces of the Cross expand,
That lapsèd souls by sinful earth depraved,
From guilt unbound, no more may be enslaved.

Here is Heaven's balm to heal the wounded mind,
When truth and tenderness together blend;
While, (fraught with mercies which release mankind),
Fresh from Christ's heart those righteous pardons wend,—
Where peace and pureness are alike divine
And God and Man both savingly combine.

293

Comfortable Words.

“Hear what comfortable words our Saviour Christ saith.” Rubric.

The sacraments an incarnation are
By Him extended to the Church in prayer
With Whom, as members of His Body, we
Incorp'rate grow through blest eternity.

But oh, celestial Love! round craven souls
When echo'd Sinai through dark mem'ry rolls
Her legal thunders,—all that grace can do
They need to testify their pardon true.

So great our guilt, by sin of life and lips,
It seems to shadow in one dread eclipse
A throned Almighty, and in darkness hide
The vast atonement God Himself supplied!

The lash of conscience is a fearful thing:
And Law and Reason but combine to wring
Torture and tears from those pale souls which see
The lurid flames of lost eternity.

Hence must true faith beside God's altar feed
On the dread sacrifice our spirits need;
Where none are soothed and soften'd into love
Except they build on sympathy above.

No shieldless warrior in the German host
Who in the fight his cov'ring armour lost
Was e'er permitted on the forest-shrine
To place the sacrifice they call'd divine:

Still less can faith-less sorrow view the Lord
Although embodied in His living Word,
Till the rent clouds of blind dejection part
And hope's bright dayspring dawns within the heart.

294

Sublime consoler with maternal tone,—
Hark, how the Church our griefs can own
By words of balm, whose healing magic throws
Round the sad children more than man's repose.

Bland Sentences of most benignant power
Her wisdom culls to sooth this aching hour,—
Tender and deep as that dread love which cried
“Forgive them!” and in bleeding mercy died.

“Come unto Me, thou heavy-laden heart!”—
Still in those words, inviting Lord Thou art;
And heavenward penitence by prayer will find
Such truths an anchor to sustain the mind.

Lost in ourselves, but in Emanuel found,
Thy mercies brighten though our sins abound;
And all who crucify the flesh-born Will
Bleed for their Master on some Calv'ry still,

But in that death a resurrection gain
Where heaven and holiness commence their reign;
While love and likeness more and more begin
Christ to enthrone o'er every thought within.

O Thou Who art our being's central home,
Ark of pure rest to Whom the “perfect” come,
Where John was pillow'd let the Church repose
And feel the calm Thy “finish'd” Work bestows.

Ephes. v. 30.

Heb. ii. 17, 18.

See Tacit. Mor. Germ.

John xiii. 5.

The Trisagion.

“Evermore praising Thee, and saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts.” —Prayer Book.

Thrilling with an inward glory
Light of light! elate before Thee
Lifted in heart absolvèd spirits stand;
And like angels overawed

295

While they chant the choral laud,—
In loud Trisagions feel their souls expand.

Melodies of paschal mirth
Now become their spirit-birth
Who in this Festival of pardon meet,—
Heart and voice too here uplift
Lauding God's eternal gift
Which brightens o'er them from the mercy-seat.

Low on earth while guilt remains,
Let the pardon'd soar in strains
Which thrill the heavens, and with angelic quires
Around the Throne triumphant
Blend their voices jubilant,—
Welcomed by Him Whose praise their harp inspires.

Meet and right it is to sing
And with hearts thus worshipping
Circle the shrine where our Passover lies;
While in words whose mystic tone
Proto-martyrs loved to own
God-ward ascends the oral sacrifice!

Time nor scene contain that heart
Unto which all gifts impart
A sense immortal of Thy goodness, Lord!—
What is life, but love to Thee
In divine Humanity,
Our will Thy wisdom, and our law Thy word?

But the temple-courts do most
Kindle Thine adoring host
To hymn th' Incarnate with melodious bliss:
There what inspirations glow
While above, around, below
Spells not of earth array an hour like this!

Aisled cathedrals dimly-glorious
Haunted by saints who sang before us

296

Well may we dream,—while vaulted arches ring,
And before each echoing shrine
Lauds and litanies divine
Worship and wonder in full chorus bring.

Holy! Holy! Holy One!
Boundless, Endless, Unbegun,
In Threefold Unity the God of all,—
While archangels Thee adore
Seraph-like our hearts would soar
And with their company “our Father,” call.

Heaven and earth are full of Thee
Lord of dread eternity
Throned in Thyself unutterably bright!
But in Christ Thy children dare
Offer Thee both praise and prayer,
And see how Love can mitigate that Light

Which would blast them!—but for Him
By Whom saints and seraphim
Blend in one family of blissful joy;
And round 'mortal shrines can blend
Anthem'd strains which never end,
But through eternity their harps employ.

With them, like them, let us sing,
Who entranced on outspread wing
Warble and worship round Thy burning Throne:
Feebly though our music float
Falt'ring with imperfect note,—
Heaven holds One heart the Church may call her own!

Thine it is, Thou King of Glory!
Nor can angels hymn before Thee
A chant more grateful, though in purer strain:
Boldly therefore let us chant
And with chorus jubilant
Cry “Holy!” till the heavens respond again!

297

Thought of dread, for words too deep,
Let it in mute wonder sleep,—
Angels are kneeling round yon Altar-shrine!
Though their lustres none can see,
Over man their wings may be
And shade the spirit with a spell divine.

Prefaces.

“Then shall be read the Proper Preface, according to the time.” Rubric.

Undeafen'd by the world's harsh din
True souls can hear The Christ within
For ever murm'ring with melodious voice
“Make God thy glory and His Will thy choice.”

Where'er these sainted pilgrims roam
Thou art, O Lord! their heaven and home—
That only Centre for an aching breast
By sorrow darken'd or by guilt depress'd.

The pangs but not the palms of mind
They bear, because they bless mankind
By teaching, what an impious world denies,—
That holy life is one long sacrifice.

But for the Church, those hearts would break
Who only live for Thy dear sake,
Finding no echoes to their deepest mood
And in the crowd,—a mental solitude!

To them, at best, man's hidden life
Is harrow'd by mysterious strife;
Sighs more than songs interpret what they feel,
Who hide the wounds the world-slaves would reveal.

Not cold, but calm, such spirits are
Who purify the earth by prayer,
And on mock pleasure which the gay pursue
Mark the bright transience of the morning-dew!

298

And yet though life a Baca seems,
A weeping valley of false dreams,
Saints have their “wells” of unpolluted joy
Which flow with freshness Time cannot alloy.

Such are the festivals they greet
Who round the christian Altar meet
Viewless adorers,—whose seraphic bliss
Blends with their own, and from a source like this

Derives accessions deep as true,—
Because the highest angels view
In Christ those glories of consummate love
Which deepen wisdom in the world above.

All mercies round The Cross entwined
The Church reveres with grateful mind:
But as one star another star outbeams,
Surpassing lustre in those five there gleams

She now commemorates with praise,—
Whose tones are caught from festal days
When from the cradled God on earth we rise
That Three-in-One to chant beyond the skies!

With angels and archangels we
Thus celebrate The Trinity;
And, hymning Father Son and Holy Ghost,
Blend our earth-worship with that sinless host

Who on the Throne for evermore
Jehovah the Triune adore,—
And cause the arches of bright heaven to ring
With rolling echoes which resound their King.

Psalm lxxxiv. 6.

Ephes. iii. 10.

299

The Address.

“We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness.” —Prayer Book.

Encircl'd by mysterious awe
The legal mount of Sinai rear'd
Its clouded vastness, when the Law
In symbols of dread light appear'd:—
Religion view'd it with alarmèd soul
And round its lurid heights heard pealing thunders roll!

Who touch'd with sacrilegious hand
Its sainted borders, died the death!
For man and beast alike were bann'd
From soiling with their sinful breath
That guarded precinct, where exceeding-loud
The trumpet-clang was heard from out the riven cloud.

And when the wav'ring Ark to hold
The unanointed Uzzah tried,
His crime was impious and so bold
That in the very act he died!—
Thus hath our God by symbol word or sign
For rev'rence set apart what He declares divine.

But Mount nor Ark can e'er appeal
To faith with such celestial awe,
As that which thrills adoring zeal
With more than kings and prophets saw,—
When Christ Himself by sacrament imparts
And feeds with mystic food our eucharistic hearts.

Not in ourselves as guilty dust
Presume we now while drawing nigh,—
To cultivate a holy trust;
But rather with compunction sigh,
And meekly in the depths of Mercy find
Some anchor of sure hope to calm unsteady mind.

300

So grant us, Lord, thy Flesh to eat
And Thine atoning Blood to drink,
That while we own ourselves unmeet
And in the dust of anguish sink,—
Pardon'd and purified true saints may live
On that immortal Bread Thy bleeding merits give.

For could men pure as angels be
Or rival seraphim with love,
What countless sins Those Eyes could see
Which read the heart in heaven above!
But man's affections are, at best, infirm,
And he has most of faith who feels himself a “worm.”

O Thou by Whose ethereal fire
All inward dross is purged away,
Now let Thy fervency inspire
Our longing hearts to love and pray,—
Spirit of Christ! by Whom the Cross alone
To man's reluctant will can make its virtue known.

Each low and languid pulse of thought
Touch'd by pure grace soon throbs for Thee;
And nerveless minds by guilt unwrought
Soar God-ward, when from sin set free
And those dull cares which chain the wingèd heart
And bind its flames to earth when they for heaven depart.

Psalm xxii. 6.

301

The Consecration.

“Break the Bread before the people, and take the Cup.” —Rubric.

“This is my Body ------ This is my Blood.” —Prayer Book.

The universe with all its powers
Of life and motion, sound and sight,
Far as fleet time can waft the hours
Or thought pursue a boundless flight,—
Though unbelieved by sense-adoring man
Has minister'd to Christ, since grace on earth began.

He is the Body whence proceed
All shadows signs and symbols found
To image forth the truths men need,—
Above, beneath, the earth around;
That faith in all things may atonement find
And learn how matter can be consecrate to mind.

And hence the types mere sense can view
Though far removed from nature's law,
Are in accordance deep and true
With more than reason ever saw,—
Since underneath their veiling shroud can be
The Body and the Blood which died on Calvary

By mystic virtue present there;—
And emblem'd in that priestly rite
Where man prolongs that deathless prayer
Christ offered on His paschal night,
When He became our Sacrifice complete
And on atoning pangs enthroned His mercy-seat.

We need not then, O Lord, enquire
As Abram's darling did of old,—
“Father! I see the wood and fire
But where the destined lamb behold?”
For on faith's altar inward eyes can view
Th' unbleeding Antitype of more than patriarchs knew.

302

In substance bread and wine are still
The creatures of Thy forming Hand;
But in the Church they must fulfill
That sacrament dread words command,
Whose consecrating force by heavenly law
Encircles ev'ry shrine with sacerdotal awe.

The bread Thine awful Hands did take,
And with the cup Thou didst the same,
And as the one those Hands did break
On both that consecration came
All christian priests, where'er Thine altars rise,
With echoing awe repeat when call'd to sacrifice.

Thus, Priest of God, go, take thy stand
To minister before the Shrine;
And, charter'd by supreme command,
Now break the bread and bless the wine,
And by that gift of Body and of Blood
Feed every famish'd soul with supernat'ral food.

We “come!”—but, not untrembling, Lord;
And while around Thine Altar kneeling
Would be o'erwhelm'd, except Thy word
Cried “peace,” to our perturbèd feeling,—
Blent with the hope, that by remembrance we
Eternalise that Cross which once was borne by Thee.

The passion of Thy priestly death
Is imaged by that Bread and Wine,
Which bid recipients hush their breath,
As if some thrill of grace divine
Moved the deep soul with sacramental law
Whose finest chords are touch'd, and tremble into awe!

Eternal Sacrifice! be still our Food
And feed Thy fainting Church below,
Who on Thy Body and thy Blood
Through forty days and nights of woe
Like sad Elijah, in a world of sin
Divinely is sustained by manna from within.

1 Kings xix. 8.

303

Communion.

“The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.” —Prayer Book.

Tis silence, Lord, when some deep pulse of prayer
Throbs in the heart, by all unheard but Thee!
While lips anointed by the Truth declare
“Do this, and thus by faith remember Me.”

Deepens that silence, when with noiseless glide
The vested priesthood round Thine altar goes,
To give the emblems of That Crucified
From Whom the fountain of salvation flows.

But still more awful is that hush intense
Which broods within us, while our hands receive
The “Body and the Blood” Thy words dispense,—
Lest in the act God's holy One we grieve!

“Take, eat, and drink,” while thus our souls obey,
Grant that our feeding hearts in faith may be
Nourish'd by what those elements convey,—
Which are the Tokens that adumbrate Thee.

Well may we bow beneath some voiceless awe!
For if all life be mystery to man,
Who can unweave that sacramental law
By heaven decreed before all souls began?

Seeds of eternity its depths enclose,—
Germs of a glory, life will not unfold
Till the last trumpet break the tomb's repose
And risen saints shall God in flesh behold.

Celestial Giver of the feast divine,
Come with Thy Spirit's ever-wakeful charm,
And while their Bodies are inspired by Thine
Protect each member from polluting harm.

304

E'en while we “eat and drink Thy Flesh and Blood”
Seraphic radiance seems to clothe the soul,
And vigour, born of eucharistic food,
Brightens each grace and purifies the whole.

Nearer and nearer to that Centre we
Move onward—drawn by some magnetic spell
Whose deep attractions prove the Trinity
In thy dread myst'ry of Communion dwell.

Pardon and peace, with purity and love,
All are embalm'd in this divinest meal,
While angels, bending from their thrones above,
Echo the wonder mortal bosoms feel.

And evermore, may touch, and taste, and sight
In this heart-sacrifice to Jesu given,
Be so instinct with God's mysterious rite
That earth may train them for a sphere in heaven.

Renew'd in body and revived in heart
And inly-brightened with unuttered bliss,—
Perennial Sacrament, how dear thou art
To saints who worship in a world like this!

As God and Man, by incarnation one,
A unity in Christ's dread Person make,
The Chruch incorp'rate with th' eternal Son
Becomes a Body which can never break.

A myst'ry this!—but that almighty Word
On Whom the pillars of creation rest,
By faith and not by sceptic reason heard,—
His imaged Passion on this rite imprest

With such deep truth, that saints adore Him there
To gain that wisdom Spirits learn above,
Who study Godhead in the house of prayer,
And live to worship, and are wise by love.

Rev. xiii. 8.

Rom. viii. 11.

John xiv. 23.

Ephes. v. 30.

Ephes. iii. 10.

305

Post Communion.

“We offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice unto Thee.” —Prayer Book.

Not from their feast of awful love
May Paschal guests in peace depart
Till they have hymn'd with choirs above
The Hallel of a grateful heart.

Thus, Mother of the faithful, Thou
A parting banquet hast supplied
Of praise and prayer, for all who vow
That they adore The God who died.

As Members of Thyself, O Lord,
Well may regen'rate souls begin
To hear Thine own adopting word,—
The “Abba!” that is breath'd within.

A double sacrifice they bring
Of person and of praise combined,
Who render Thee such offering
As He accepts, Who saves mankind.

Author and Finisher divine
Of hope, and faith, and all we are!
Now present at Thy bloodless shrine,
With pardon consecrate our prayer.

All meritless, the craven soul
Would shrink and shudder back with dread
Except it heard Love's whisper roll,—
“Emanuel for the guilty bled!”

The precious “Body and the Blood”
By ministerial hands imparted,
With more than super-heavenly food
Now calm and cheer the broken-hearted.

306

As living members we cohere
In Christ, by mystic life and love,
And though the trembling person fear
Our nature is secured above,—

Assumed by that incarnate Head
Whose will the universe sustains,
And by his speaking Blood hath said
His glory in forgiveness reigns.

Life-giving Lord! where'er we roam
May sacraments our pledges be,—
Thy merits are that mystic home
Where aching hearts unite with Thee.

Gloria in Excelsis.

“Glory be to God on high! on earth, peace!” —Prayer Book.

Bright choristers around God's throne!
We cannot catch the glory-tone,
But when high raptures most intensely reign
Can lauding wonder so attune your strain
As that which thrills a saint on earth
Rejoicing o'er his second-birth?

Ye living stars of light above
Who glisten with adoring love,
Creation's quire! heaven gave you once to see
Fresh from the cradle of eternity
An infant-world repose awhile
Under Jehovah's mantling smile:

But though as God's elect in glory
'Twas yours to chant creation's story,
While passionless and pure such bright estate
On earth eclipses all of good or great,—

307

Yet far beyond what angels know,
The Church's eucharistic glow

In this high festival of Praise!—
Here, pardon'd souls hosannahs raise;
And while the deep'ning hallelujah rolls
Melodious worship round the Lord of souls
Saints feel what seraphs never can,—
They live on Him who bled for Man!

Hence, Gloria in excelsis! Lord,
In echoes of Thy caroll'd word
Lift we in lauding ecstacy above,
Impassion'd now with superhuman love:—
If angel-food to saints belong,
They rightly chant the angel-song.

We laud, we bless, we glorify
Thy pure and perfect Majesty
Dread King of Kings! almightily conceal'd
E'en in that light where Love is most reveal'd,—
Supremest God, celestial One
The Father of th' incarnate Son.

Begotten of the true I AM,
By sacrifice the saving Lamb,
Eternal Semblance of th' eternal Sire!
Thy mercies and Thy merits now inspire
All hearts which feel devotion's flame
Burn into brightness at Thy name.

O Thou, Whose death-pangs took away
The guilt that on creation lay,
Glory to Thee! Whose feet our world have trod,
But now art seated on the throne of God,—
Thy suppliant Church would Thee adore
Prophet and Priest for evermore.

308

“Glory to God, good will to man”—
Behold, the everlasting plan,
With “peace on earth” and pardon brought from heaven,
Justice atoned and forfeit-souls forgiven,—
For this we laud and glorify
Salvation through the Trinity!

“Glory to God!” again, again
Adoring myriads swell the strain;
Not quiring angels who ensphere His throne
Can reach or rival that exulting tone
Of rescued sinners, who have cried
For me a God was crucified!

Job xxxviii. 7.

Psalm lxxii. 25.

“Great is the mystery of Godliness. God was manifest in the flesh” (1 Tim. iii. 16.)

Collects after the Offertory.

“Assist us mercifully, O Lord, in these our supplications.” Prayer Book.

Exhaustless like a mother's heart
With blessings for her child
Thou for Thy praying children art,—
In faith the undefiled;
Stored in whose sacramental depths abound
Gifts of subduing grace by worship found.

Soon will those harsh unheavenly airs
Which round the rude world play,
Be heard, instead of temple-prayers
True souls delight to say,—
When back to perill'd life their spirits go
And face the warfare christian warriors know.

And lest unask'd some mercy be,
Six parting Collects woo
The Pastor's choice; where souls may see
How all of deep and true
Pure supplication can from God require,
Breathes in that love our Church's lips inspire.

309

In this vex'd world of change and chance
Lord, none are safe but those
Who live beneath Thy loving glance
In pureness and repose;
And in the ark of Thy salvation, find
A blissful centre which becalms the mind.

And grace prevenient now we ask
For all begun or ended
In burden'd life's mysterious task,
With sin and sorrow blended:
That flesh and spirit, heart and inmost soul
May all become Thy consecrated whole.

And let Thine own almighty word
Be grafted on each heart
That saints may practise what they heard
And choose that “better part”
Which when the universe dissolves away
In calm eternity outlives decay.

Fountain of grace! to Thee is known
A viewless world within
Of wants unbreath'd, we dare not own,—
Of blindness dread or sin;
But Thy compassions can interpret all
Who in meek silence on Thy mercy call.

Cheer'd by Thy presence, hence we plead
His everlasting Name
Who bow'd the heavens on earth to bleed,
And died the death of shame
That pardon'd guilt on God might dare to gaze
And gladden angels with, “Behold, he prays!”

Thus down the haunted aisles of prayer
With musing step and slow
As part we, for our paths of care,
This creed Thy children know,—
The chord which vibrates in each heart is love,
And that which tunes it, is The Hand above!

310

Final Blessing.

“Then the Priest (or Bishop, if he be present) shall let them depart with this blessing.” —Rubric.

Silence can more than speech declare
Whose very soul is voiceless prayer,
Too deep for words but not too dumb for Thee
Sole Head of saved humanity!

And breathes there not religion now,
A worship and a secret vow
Which more than lip-tones may to God express
The heart's adoring inwardness?

“Thou only art The Lord of Lords!”
As die away those deep-toned words
Melting and mingling with the unheard chant
Of harping seraphs, jubilant,—

In hush'd devotion souls forgiven
Are waiting for that peace from heaven,
Father in God! thy lips may now proclaim
And gently breathe in Jesu's name.

O Thou supernal Holy Ghost,
Descend upon you kneeling host,
And all The Priest of priesthood can impart
Impress Thou on each saintly heart.

Light Love and Knowledge,—all combine
And circle round that mystic shrine
Where Thou, Emanuel, art by faith adored
As perfect Man and holy Lord.

Blest privilege! which dazzles thought,
With more than moral Eden fraught,

311

If peace celestial on those hearts descend
Which now before yon Altar bend

Calm and up-closed,—like flowers at night
When drinking in that dewy light
The fascinating stars from heaven infuse
To freshen their ethereal hues.

But hark, in holy calm is heard
Thy blessing, O incarnate Word!
And as we listen, from the bowers above
Glides down the aisles the heavenly Dove.

Thus was it, Lord, in days of old:—
Ere realms of radiance did enfold
Thy soaring Form with shrouds of awful light
Above the reach of mortal sight

Thy parting words, divinely-full,
Soothed the sad hour with solemn lull
When bent adorers who beheld it rise,
In heart soar'd with Thee through the skies.

Baptism of Infants.

‘Doubt ye not, therefore, but earnestly believe, that he will likewise favourably receive this present Infant.” —(Prayer Book.)

If Love celestial ne'er had said
Let children to mine arms be led,
Parents might shrink aghast
A creature into life to bring
Whose soul the curse of God may wring
When time and earth are past!—
But for the promise of baptismal grace
What sight so fearful as an infant-face?

312

All that a birth of flesh can give
Is but the awful doom,—to live!
A heritage of woe,
A destiny of guilt and death,
A curse inhaled at every breath
Life breathes from sin below!—
By grace unfoiled, destruction seems to lower
On the sad babe ere time can count an hour.

But at the font where Jesu stands
With greeting heart and gracious hands
Ready to clasp the child,—
Pale infant! there, a breath from heaven
Shall to thy dawning soul be given
Through Him the Saviour mild,
Who while He thunders from His regal throne
Loves the sweet age on earth He call'd His Own.

The Root of sacramental grace
Is the new Adam of our race,—
The Man Divine who bled;
Hence cometh an immortal birth
Beyond the parentage of earth
From our generic Head,
The Lord from heaven Whose vital spirit gives
The law by which the mystic Body lives.

More than our first-born parents knew
Before they proved to God untrue
Works a celestial gift;
Angels who on their trial stood
Exceed not this majestic good
Which may thy soul uplift:—
A child of God!—can seraphim aspire
To aught sublimer in their sinless choir?

From thee the curse is roll'd away;
Thy soul's new birth begins to-day
By cov'nant-right to all
Immunities and blessings high

313

The heart of Jesus can supply
To those who heed His call:—
Now to the stillness of thy soul is given,
Like breezeless water to reflect a heaven.

A city and a crown are thine
If thou be true to grace divine,
Bearing thy destined cross;—
Lo, on thy forehead lies the seal
Where symbol both and sign reveal
That life must gain by loss:
Firm to thy vow, beneath God's banner fight
And keep thy panoply of graces bright.

Christ guard thee now, thou little one!
His glory be thy shield and sun
Whate'er thy lot may be;
Incorp'rate with the Church thou art
And hence to thee will Heaven impart
The truth which maketh free,—
New prospects ope, new principles and powers
Rise into play and rule thine unborn hours.

And if in secret darkness lie
Those sacred germs which none descry
Dormant and cold within,
May God's reviving Breath awake
Till such dark bond of slumber break
And grace o'ermaster sin.—
That latent seed baptismal life bestows
Doth oft in elder hearts its buried power disclose.

How water word and grace combine
Their action with a work divine
In vain let reason ask:—
Children are awful mysteries
Within whose depth no spirit sees
But His,—who owns the task
Of overcoming through celestial birth
That born corruption which is bred from earth.

314

Hence! reas'ning sceptic, harsh and cold;
For never will thine eyes behold
Tokens which sense defy:
Nature in secret works her plan,
Her growth escapes the sight of man,
Then hush thy heartless cry:—
As if the weakness of the water could
Deprive the soul of sacramental good!

Hereafter as a priest and king,
Thy babe becomes a holy Thing,
An heir of grace and glory;
Mother! to whom such charge is given,
Now rear it for that throne in heaven
Scripture unveils before thee:
So discipline the dawning mind and will
That each some priesthood unto God may fill.

“Our Father!” now thy babe may cry
Whose elder Brother rules the sky,—
The Man Divine who came
By bleeding merit to atone
For all the guilt sad earth must own,
And give the child a name
New as that sacramental birth which then
Through water and The Spirit dawns in men.

Blest privilege! both deep and pure
Which might our trembling hearts assure
That we are Christ's indeed:
Our robe baptismal,—keep it white
And never wilt thou lose the right
Which marks the heavenly seed
Of all who, grafted into Christ by grace,
Born in the Church, are God's adopted race.

Oh that on man's expressive brow
Baptismal pureness beaming now
Maturer life might see!—
How should we bless that rite of heaven

315

Where grace is felt and sin forgiven
By mercy full as free,—
And find God's Spirit ne'er that man forsook
Who kept in age the vow his childhood took.

Col. i. 18.

Matt. x. 39.

320

Marriage.

“An honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church.” —Form of Solemnization of Matrimony.

Around the cradle of this new-born earth
Though harping seraphs came to sing
Whose choral ecstasies proclaim'd its worth
And caused heaven's crystal arch to ring,
All was unmeaning, till creation saw
A human monarch, and obey'd his law.

321

Vain seem'd the splendour, which no eye could see,
The melody, that none could hear;
But when God utter'd “Let Mine Image be,”
Creation thrill'd as Man drew near!
And what was meaningless and mute and dead
Warm'd into life, and glow'd beneath his tread.

As man for earth, so woman was required
The crowning grace of man to form;
Alone, not even Adam was inspired
To feel creation's godlike charm:—
And thus, faith hears this fiat from The Throne,
“It is not good for man to be alone.”

So ere the fall, a Priest almighty brought
His bridal Eve to Adam's heart,—
A living echo for the love he sought,
A help-meet never to depart,
A true companion for the soul to be,
Fresh from her God in faultless purity.

Marriage is holy. May no heathen-fire
Around the christian altar flame;
Impassion'd souls let saintliness inspire
And hallow hymeneal claim:
Belials in sense are minds by flesh o'erruled,
And love is vice, unless by virtue school'd.

How hush'd and holy is yon bridal-scene
In yon pure temple!—view'd by one
Who e'er by faith in Cana's home hath been,
That marriage-group to gaze upon
Where the pale water blush'd itself to wine
Moved by a miracle of grace divine

Stainless in vesture as the lily white,
With flower-buds in her wreathèd hair,
Fearful and trepid, awed with new delight
Lo! the young bride is kneeling there,
Her dropping lids in mild dejection bent
And young heart with a holy conflict rent.

322

In that pure breast what garner'd feelings play
Like pulses with mysterious beat!
To think, sweet girlhood now hath wing'd away
And love must quit a calm retreat,—
Sacred to thought through friends and forms no more,
And truths, which made the reeling heart run o'er!

It is not, that a voiceless dread awakes
Suspicion, lest her choice be wrong;
No blighting vision o'er the future breaks
To which both guilt and grave belong:
Yet sadness haunts around her like a spell,—
As oft in marriage-chime there seems a knell.

Our life is myst'ry; and the brightest joy
That flushes round a feeling heart
Seems coldly shaded by some dim alloy
Doom'd never from man's world to part:—
True mirth with mournfulness is oft allied
As living babes suggest the babe who died.

And she, yon bridal star of beauty now
Oh marvel not, as there she kneels,
That ere the wife can dawn upon her brow
Back to bright girlhood fancy steals;
Dead joys revive in tombs to fancy dear,
Melt through the heart and mingle with a tear!

Last eve, at halycon twilight's dreamful hour
When none but God the soul could see
She pray'd and ponder'd in her girlish bower,
And sigh'd, dead Past! her thoughts o'er thee;—
Flower, fruit, and pathways, all instinct with truth,
Seem'd to accost her like the tones of Youth.

She mused on what her spousal life might fold
Within its undevelop'd scene;
On wings of love recall'd the times of old
And wept o'er all bright hearts had been;
And scarce perceived the pensive moonlight throw
Its calm cold lustre on the lake below.

323

But maiden! ere thy sacred ring be worn,
Beyond a mother's purest gift
The Church hath up to heaven's high portals borne
A prayer,—which shall thy soul uplift
To heights of bliss serene as brides attain
Whose wedded hearts are thrones where Christ will reign.

Souls are espoused by ev'ry hallow'd claim,
If wedlock far diviner prove
Than flesh-born ties, which boast the common name
Of what sense means by mortal “love:”—
Christ and the Church are shadow'd out by this
And cast heaven's radiance round an earthly bliss.

“Have dominion” (Gen. i. 26.)

Ephes. v. 31, 32.

330

Churching of Women.

“We give thee humble thanks, for that thou hast vouchsafed to deliver this woman thy servant, from the great pain and peril of childbirth.” —English Prayer Book.

In love maternal hides a spell
A mother's heart alone can see,
Transcending all that tears may tell
Or man can be.

Far down within the spirit's deep
Her fountains of affection lie
Like currents which in darkness sweep
Nor face the sky.

Tender abyss of peerless love!
To heaven's omniscient eye-glance known,
The Woman-born Who reigns above
Thy claims doth own.

A pillow'd Babe on mother's breast
Beneath Him throbb'd the Virgin-heart,—
And, Woman! thou on Him canst rest
Whoe'er thou art.

Oh magic force of nature!—felt
Far as the sun and sea extend;
Beneath whose law all beings melt
And spirits bend.

The Indian-mother, stern and strong,
Cradles her infant on the tree
And wildly chants her loud wood-song
For lullaby.

And the stern negress, seeking food,
Fastens the babe upon her back,
To roam each rocky solitude
Or lion's track.

331

Nor scene nor change, nor earth nor sky
Enfeeble love's maternal force;
Distance and time before it die
Whate'er their course.

A passion this, so pure and deep,
That while bereavèd fathers moan
Enduring mothers only weep
In heart alone!

But, why did God such love create
Ineffably profound and pure?—
Because from mothers spirits date
Their curse, or cure.

Thus martyrs, saints and heroes,—all
Whom wond'ring time delights to praise,
In heaven itself may still recall
Those infant-days

When learn'd they from maternal lips
Lessons of holy love and prayer,—
No clouds hereafter could eclipse
With sad despair.

Then, pallid mother! draw thee nigh,
Perill'd by pangs but saved in birth;
And dovelike lift thy downcast eye
To heaven from earth.

The virgin-whiteness of that veil
Becomes thine inward purity,
And hides upon thy forehead pale
What angels see

Of blissful worship,—deep and mild
Which mothers for their first-born pay,
And love with conscience undefiled
Offers to-day.

Thou art the parent of a soul,
The mother of a deathless mind!

332

And Christ to thee imparts control
For this design'd.

Self-discipline with prayer-born love
And persevering wisdom calm
Send, Holy Spirit, from above,
And soothing balm;

That from Thine Altar she may part
In saintly mood serene and high,
And worship Christ with yearning heart
Until she die.

Mothers are more than mines of wealth
If God-devoted souls they be;
And what makes empire's moral health
And purity

They guard. For, how do nations sink
Into dark graves of sin and woe?—
When Church and State no longer think
What debt they owe

To christian mothers! unto whom
Both God and nature have consign'd
Existence, from whose dawning bloom
They nurse mankind.

Prayers at Sea.

“Glorious Lord God! at whose commands the winds blow and lift up the waves of the sea, and who stillest the rage thereof.” —English Prayer Book.

Mother, whose heart keeps watch with wakeful care
Hark how the storm-blasts through the welkin roll!
Thunder alarms the breast of guilty fear
And the red lightnings dart from pole to pole.

Louder and louder sweeps the gale!
Fierce in descent the hurried rain-drops fall,
And midnight Terror, with emotion pale,
Begins in secret on her God to call.

Calm as a flower yon nursling lies
Rock'd into silence on the cradling breast;
Yet doth thy bosom heave with unheard sighs
Which rouse the spirit into sad unrest.

Yet not for thy domestic bower
Or those who sleep within its guardian-shade,
Art thou awake at this convulsive hour
To hear the crash wild elements have made.

But in thy heart is heard the raging deep
Toss'd in huge billows with tumultuous swell,
And voiceless tremors through thy bosom creep
For thy lone sea-boy,—loved at home so well!

Last year upon thy breast he lay
His head in fondness, parting for the sea,
And would not brush the manly tear away
Which flow'd from nature, and which fell on thee.

337

And now amid the shroud and sail
Perchance he grapples with the bending mast,
And when soft images of home prevail
Around him feels thine arms maternal cast!

Mother, thy Church confronts the waves,
Her litanies can lull their angry roar,
And He who watcheth o'er the ocean-graves
Can make the sea as tranquil as the shore.

Christ on the waters forms a home
For all who trust Him in the tempest wild,
Far as the pilgrims of the deep can roam
Or billows lullaby a sea-born child.

Safe is thy darling in this hour,
Dearer to heaven than mother's heart can know;
Calmly entrust him to that sleepless Power,
Deepen thy prayers,—but let not doubts o'erflow.

Mirthful and bright thy sea-boy ran
Around thee once, through garden grove and field;
But now, emerging into ripen'd man,
Conscience and creed divinest influence wield.

Precious, yon Bible!—'twas thy boon;
And, mother, where thy parting tear-gush fell
Oft on the deck beneath the sacred moon
He reads the warnings thou has scored so well.

And that high book of hallow'd Prayer
A treasured sister gave, with farewell kiss,
Oft will he welcome what its truths declare
And hail the sabbath as a holy bliss.

God of the winds and waves and seas!
Whom all the vassal elements obey,
Whether by palmy shores the placid breeze
Soft as a seraph-wing descends to play,

Or tempests heave the mountain-surge
Flashing with foam beneath some lurid glare,

338

While the drench'd mariners the vessel urge,—
We thank Thy wisdom for the ocean prayer.

Or when the booming death-guns pour
Peal after peal, redoubling as they roll,
Or Vict'ry shouts her patriotic roar
Of loud huzzahs from seaman's gallant soul

Lord of the Deep! by Thee inspired
Our Church for each some high-breath'd prayer imparts,
That they whom Valour hath for conquest fired
The Prince of Peace should have to hush their hearts.

Seldom can inland-worship prove
Toned with such tenderness sublime and deep—
Like God's own halcyon calming from above
The wailing hearts that o'er some lost one weep,—

As when beneath the trancèd air
While moonbeams like a shroud enrobe the wave,
Mild fall the tones of that funereal prayer
Which parts the billow for a seaman's grave.

Tearful the watching comrades stand
Hush'd into silence by a holy spell,
And hide those grief-drops with a rough-worn hand
Whose tender fountain is the word,—“farewell.”

Peace to the dead! he waits his hour
When the last trumpet shall untomb yon sea
And with such life-blast all her waves o'erpower
Dust shall arise, and look in Deity!