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The Sanctuary

A Companion in Verse for the English Prayer Book. By Robert Montgomery

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PRAYERS AND THANKSGIVINGS,
  
  
  
  
  
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70

PRAYERS AND THANKSGIVINGS,

UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

For Rain.

“Send us, we beseech Thee,—moderate rain and showers. —Prayer Book.

Nature is christian to a christian eye,
Touch'd by regen'rate spells, from Christ which came,
When vast creation, from His farewell-sigh,
Felt a new life o'ersteal its giant frame;—
Since Nature's glories, through Man's primal sin,
Darken'd without, when Adam quail'd within.
Hence Nature, Providence, and Grace combine,
Wheel within wheel, their interblending powers,
And, by their threefold action form a shrine,
Where Christ is worshipp'd in memorial-hours:—
Creation and the Church can thus declare,
Each unto each, the life and law of Prayer.
And Thou, Who art the Cause of causes all,
King of the Universe, by God encrown'd!
Thy mercy freshens, through each rain-drop's fall,
The fruit and verdure of the fragrant ground;
While, o'er the clouds adoring hearts ascend,
And, shrined in glory, hail the sinner's Friend.

71

Deluge and drought, the sunshine, dew, or rain
Are not contingencies, but full of God;
Each hath a mission, and the wisest gain
Lessons from all, when Science walks abroad,
Perusing Nature with religious eye,—
Divinely-conscious that her Lord is nigh.
But, if in showers man's atheistic heart
Forget the Fount, whence raining mercies flow,
Who does not dread Thee, when the clouds depart
And landscapes wither in a torrid glow,
Till earth seem iron, and the heaven like brass;—
Is there a Curse that can such doom surpass?
Then, parch'd and pining, droop all fruits and trees,
The meadows burn beneath a blasting glare,
While Nature sickens for the absent breeze,
And Life seems gasping in the pulseless air:
Creation dons the livery of death,
And dying Languor draws its heated breath.
Lord of the atmosphere! in mercy look
Down on our Land, if thus chastised it be,
And once again bid every flowing brook,
In liquid warbles to resound of Thee:
While balm and beauty, as thy People pray,
With answ'ring freshness field and grove array.
And, bounteous Heaven! beneath Thy fruitful Word
Let barren souls be soften'd, and subdued,
Till each dead feeling, by devotion stirr'd,
Bound with new throbs of holy gratitude,—
Learning that wisdom heaven-taught spirits gain,
When God is reverenced in the gift of rain.
 

Gen. iii. 10.

Ezek. i 10.


72

For Fair Weather.

“Send us such weather, as that we may receive the fruits of the earth, in due season.” —Prayer Book.

Inspired by Angels seems the hallow'd air
Of christian Temples, in some hour of prayer,
When bow'd adorers, meek and lowly,
With litanies, heart-deep as holy,
And plaintive accents of melodious love,
Mingle their Altar-chants with martyr-cries above.
But, when pure tears, in penitential flow,
Gush from the heart for sin-avenging woe,
Angelic watchers hover nigh
And listen to each low-breath'd sigh,
Grieved when we sink, or gladden'd when we soar,
And love those Spirits most, who most their God adore.
Thus, not alone, pale Mother, art Thou, now,
Lifting to heaven thy supplicating brow,—
That He, Whose everlasting Throne
O'erawes the water-floods alone,
His olive-bearing Dove may gently send,
To signify, stern wrath may in soft mercy end.
Almighty! when Thy whelming torrents fall,
Palsied with guilt, our craven minds recall
That unrepeated judgment-hour
When shrieking Earth beheld Thy power,—
The drowning Carcase of a deluged world,
Sunk in sepulchral waves, by justice o'er it hurl'd!
But still, Thy Sacramental Bow could shine
And symbolise thy grace by hues divine,

73

Lord of the Sea! Whose Ark did save
Elect ones from the billow's grave,—
Types of true souls hereafter, who should be
Kept in Thy Holy church, baptismally by Thee.
And therefore, let Thy lurid clouds withdraw;
Green make the soil, as that which Noah saw
When from his Ark the Patriarch went,
And, 'neath the sun-clad firmament,
In dripping brightness from departed rain
Watch'd the deliver'd Earth in verdure bloom again.
All weather bears Thy Will's resistless form,
Typed in the calm, or tokened by the storm;
But, in the mild and mellow spring
Love hears a Promise murmuring,
In mystic echoes, which can never cloy,—
Sure as yon rainbow smiles, no Deluge shall destroy
“The earth; but, summer, heat and harvest, shall
My Name and Nature unto faith recall:”—
So be it, Lord! and thus, from Thee
Both in Thy wrath, and clemency,
Our conscience, lesson'd by Almighty lore,
Creation in the Cross shall study, more and more.
Since, what is Nature, but a realm divine,
Where, in dread secresy, as in a shrine,
Father, and Son, and Spirit are
In everything, and everywhere,
Life, Law and Energy, —a Trinitarian soul
Creatively at work, to harmonise the Whole.
And, blest the Church, with more than Science fraught,
Who all her Children has sublimely taught,
What carnal tongues mere “nature” call,
Interprets God, the ruling All,
Since not a pulse, or principle of life,
With hidden Deity that is not sway'd, and rife.

74

And if that Lord, Who cloth'd a field-born flower
With more than glory, in its regal hour,
Shall sanctify each pensive look
We cast upon Creation's book,—
Then, fruit and verdure, rain and sunshine, may
Whisper through Nature's walks,—“Here, let us muse, and pray.”
 

Chrysost. vol. ii. par. ii. p. 530.

Rev. vi. 9, 10.

“The Lord sitteth upon the flood.” —Ps. xxix. 10.

Gen. viii. 21.

Rev. iii. 20, 21.

Gen. ix. 13.

See Ambrose in Comber. Rev. vol. ii. p. 316.

August. Epist. iv. 169.

Dearth and Famine.

“Grant that the scarcity and dearth which we do now most justly suffer, for our iniquity, may through Thy goodness, be mercifully turned into cheapness and plenty.” —Prayer Book.

Some broken whispers of The Name Divine
Float through this fallen world of ours,
But, Conscience cannot into words combine,
Or, explicate, with all her powers,
What mean those whispers, when The Law is nigh,
And thunders, “pay me!” or, a bankrupt, die!
Oft, when Affliction's more than midnight-pall
Enwraps our destiny below,
Or, sight and sound forgotten crimes recall,
As imaged by judicial woe,—
From the dread heart of deep Eternity,
Comes Vengeance, clad with direst mystery!
Searching and sounding Thought's unpierced abyss
When Science gropes its way to God,
Who, by a mental path, perplexed like this,
The ground of sainted virtue trod?—
Alas, for Cain-like spirits! who can dare
To find in reason, what must flow from prayer.

75

They stumble on, for ever, more and more,
In dimness, doubt, and secret dread,
Who will not God Himself in Christ adore,
And are not by His Spirit led;
Their church, Self-will, their Decalogue the same,—
How can such heathens bear the Christian name?
O! timely meek, and thus, made truly wise,
Child of the Church, Lord, let me live;
Anoint by faith our spirit's inward eyes,
And in Thy word those comforts give
Which neither blast, nor blight, nor famines reach,
Where'er they echo what Thy warnings teach!
Eden of Isles, though blissful England be,
Glory and Garden of all lands,
'Tis only while her children worship Thee,
Round her green clime that grace expands
From whence our wave-rock'd paradise can smile,
And prove, O Lord! Thy consecrated Isle.
The boundless Universe is but thy slave,
Its Faculties Thy vassals are;
And in the womb, as in the whelming grave,
Both life and death obey Thee, there;
Famine and food alike from Thee descend,
By Wisdom fitted for some moral end.
Whether from rainless cloud, or cruel war,
The with'ring scourge of Scarceness come,
Truth sees in all those miseries that mar
The peace, and preciousness of home,
Not second Causes!—to the FIRST we soar,
Who holds creation's granaries in store.
Famine and dearth, dread God! Thy vengeance sent,
On Canaan's realm, and Egypt's clime;
When, curs'd by Thee, the parchèd firmament
Refused the rain, in fair spring-time:
'Twas thus of old, Thy penal frowns did fall,
And back the godless unto Heaven recall.

76

But from thy lips, O lion-hearted Seer!
Samaria's cry for mercy rose;
And, hark! on prostrate Ahab's ear,
The answering rain-flood quickly flows:—
E'en while he prays, the blacken'd clouds dispart,
And all their freshness in full shower impart!
But, Thou art still the ever-changeless God,
Whose heaven Elijah ope'd by prayer,
And, while we tremble at Thy Judgment-rod,
Receive our Litanies, and “spare
Thy punish'd ones, who in this trial-hour,
Adore Thy Goodness, while they dread Thy power.
Giver of food! Thou art Almighty Bread,
The Manna of immortal souls,
Deprived of Whom, the living are the dead,
Whatever fate such life controls;
Celestial nutriment our spirits need,
And Christ is He, on Whom disciples feed.
Whatever dearth these famish'd bodies feel,
Food of the Soul! if Thou be nigh
Thy Saints will bear it with heroic zeal,
And greet the death 'tis gain to die,
For all who crucify the flesh-born will
And drink the Cup which Christ has deign'd to fill.
 

Gen. iv. 3.

Ps. cxix. 91.

John vi. 35.

Phil. i. 31.

Matt. xx. 22.

War and Tumults.

“King of all Kings, and Governor of all things—save and deliver us, we humbly beseech Thee, from the hands of our enemies.” —Prayer Book.

Dead Empires, sepulchred in graves of Time,
Proud Hist'ry mantles with a pall sublime;
But, underneath that shroud repose
What buried crimes, and hidden woes!—

77

King of kings! and Lord of Lords,
By Thine Own omniscient words
Embruted minds instruct this royal Truth to know,—
Empires, as well as souls, to Thee their safety owe.
Wafted and winged by supernat'ral love
Soars the ascending heart of Prayer above,
And, entering through yon veilèd Shrine,
Visions within Thy Hands Divine
Church, and Country's mingled cause,
Freedom, Faith and holy Laws,
Thou Lover of all souls! in Whose true light men see,
A kingdom's master-stength is christian purity.
Those passion-roots of desolating War,
Which germinate in havoc, fierce and far,
What are they, but a brood of Sin,
Sprung from a bosom-hell within?—
Pride and envy, lust of power,
Form the fiends which thus devour
All principles of Peace a God Incarnate came
To purchase by His pangs, and hallow by His Name.
What is false “glory,”—save a guilt disguised,
A murd'rous cheat, magnificently prized,
When rifled home and ruin'd shrine
With all the curse of war combine,
And the shrieks of Womanhood
Heard in harrowing solitude,—
Throng round the gory track, where Armies fought, or fled,
And crushing war-steeds stamp'd their hoofs upon the dead.
Go, when the rush and roar of Fight are past
And pallid moonbeams on the slain are cast,
Go, muse around the mangled heap
Who there in welt'ring havoc sleep,—
Youth and Manhood, as they fell,
Far from home, and loved so well!—
And, while you heave a sigh o'er many a sunken brow,
Think what their spirits feel, whose flesh lies mould'ring, now!

78

Blest Teacher! who unteachest pride to Man,
In perfect harmony with God's own plan,
Mother of Saints! thy meekness bring,
When War and Faction round us ring
Yells of fierceness, which betray
Passions in their fiendish play,
Come, with thy gentleness, celestial as refined,
And let our struggle be,—who most shall love mankind!
Blest Jesu! in Thy Unity repose
All healing remedies for war, and woes:
Discord, and Strife, and reinless Will,
Calm'd by Thy chastening word, are still;
Halcyon-dreams of holy bliss,
Vile Ambition's hope dismiss,
And ploughshares into swords transformed by Grace will be,
When Heroes are the Saints, whose souls resemble Thee.
Yet, Lord of Hosts! if blood and battle come
And weapon'd Patriots fight for hearth and home,
While tented field, and bivouac,
The trumpet, steed, and victor-track,
Soldiers of the World delight
Who for crowns of conquest fight,
The prowess of the Church will prove, by ceaseless prayer,
As Joshua did of old,—true victory is, there!
Ah! who can tell how oft the Child of God
In saintly paths by tranquil Virtue trod,
While Earth's loud clarions falsely claim
A vict'ry in some earth-god's name,
Dreaming martial courage can
Be a Providence to Man,—
High o'er the heaven of faith by secret prayer hath soar'd,
And from Jehovah gained the blessing thus implored.
Thy Saints, oh Lord! true soldiers are,
Baptised for conflict, and ordained to war,—
But, that is fought the soul within,
Where grace subdues each hostile sin.—

79

Teach them, Saviour! thus to be
Victors who contend for Thee,
And, vanquish by that Truth, which gains the World's release,
Whose perfect Hero is the Prince of Holy Peace.
 

Heb. vi. 19.

Plague or Sickness.

“Have pity upon us, miserable sinners, who are now visited with great sickness and mortality.” —Prayer Book.

Almighty! in the midnight of Thy frown
Myriads are wither'd down:—
Walking in darkness, like a curtain'd Fiend
In power and presence screen'd,
Moves round our land a desolating Pest
No mortal cures arrest;
Since, onward, in its blast and blight of death,
Sweeps His contagious breath!
Tremendous art Thou, sin-avenging God!
When thus Thy penal rod
Is darkly wielded o'er an Empire's sin,
While guilt's own lash within
Harrows the conscience with a secret scourge,
As Past and Present urge
Home on the heart, what Priest, and Seer declares,—
Thy People are not “spared”
When truths are yielded to Rebellion's cries,
And faith in goodness dies,
Till loyalty from Church and Crown departs,
And Treason in base hearts
Fosters each faction proud Self-will approves,
And mad Opinion loves,—
To hail the Korahs, whose schismatic joy
Reels in the word—“Destroy!

80

Guardian of Holiness! Thy frowns descend
On all who thus offend:
Plague, Pestilence, and Death, those awful Three!
So eloquent of Thee,
Proclaim Thy justice, and our guilt display
Clear as the Judgment-day;—
For, though from man dread Judgments oft arise,
Yet faith Thy rod descries.
When cureless Pestilence, with scorching blast
O'er hearts and homes hath past,
Then, pangs are preachers; and our graves reveal
Truths which the sternest feel.—
And grant, O Lord! in such deep hour of dread
Thine Own elect be led,
For punishment to find a moral cause
Which indicates Thy laws.
Incarnate Healer of the sin-plagued heart!
Thy Paraclete impart;
E'en as of old, the sworded Angel-hand
Once paused at Thy command,
So, bid the terrible Inflictor now
Relax His deathful brow,
And in the mercy of thy pardoning word
Sheathe the Almighty sword!
Such precedents inspire the Church's prayer,
And seeds of promise are:
Atoned by David, if Thy People found
Their Lord with blessing crown'd,—
Not less, Jehovah! shall baptised ones see
Some token-smiles of Thee,
Gleaming around them with irradiant love
Fresh from Thy Face above.
 

See Collect.

2 Sam. xxiv. 16.


81

The Ember Week.—First Collect.

“Guide and govern the minds of Thy servants, the Bishops and Pastors of Thy flock.” —Prayer Book.

Mysterious purchase of Almighty Blood!
Who, based on God's eternity, hast stood
Unchang'd in essence, since Emanuel's time,
High o'er all hate, by miracle sublime,—
We pray for Thee!
Church of the Lord! catholical and one,
Neither by Power, nor Policy begun,
No mere creation, framed by mortal will,
In sacramental might enduring still,—
We pray for Thee!
From everlasting in the Heart Divine
Bride of th' Incarnate! was Thine awful shrine;
Loved by The Trinity, Whose counsels gave
All which mankind can sanctify, or save,—
We pray for Thee!
Here, in this creedless world of Woe and sin
Tempted without, and sorely tried within,
Hated, yet fear'd, while faction, scorn, and strife
Blend and combine to counterwork Thy life,—
We pray for Thee!
Long may these Ember-fasts intensely prove
A perfect witness of primeval Love,
Whose dateless birth in Time's religious past
Hath round their claims a consecration cast,—
We pray for Thee!

82

Thy priested Applicants of purchased grace,
Stewards of Christ, who back their Office trace
E'en to The Lord, from Whom it first began,—
Priest of all priests, th' ordaining Son of Man!—
We pray for them!
Counsel and comfort, guardian-love, and light,
In the true meekness of anointed Might,
Heroic purity, and hallow'd power
To baffle Fiends in their most fearful hour,—
We pray for them!
And Ye! Successors by celestial law
To that Episcopate Apostles saw,
With links unbroken handing down the Chain
That binds the Present with the Past again,—
We pray for You!
Pastors for Christ! that on no impious head
The spell of consecrating Hands be shed,
But with all wisdom, faith, and watching care
Deacon and Priest may binding vows declare,—
We pray for You!
Guard them, and guide them, Bishop of all Souls!
Whose living Unction heart and will controls;
That, in the plenitude of each high gift,
The Church may ever Thy true Cross uplift,—
And pray for them!
Here, while our low-breathed Litanies ascend,
Enter the Veil, and with hosannahs blend
Which deepen round Thy saint-encircled Throne,
Pardon Thy people, who are called Thine Own,—
And pray for them!
Shelter'd, and screen'd within Christ's ancient Fold,
Still may Thy Pastors, Sheep and Lambs behold;
And that Chief Shepherd endless worship give
Who died on earth, that man in heaven might live,—
For this we pray!
 

Acts xx. 28.

Prov. viii. 23.

John xvii. 9.

Prov. xiv. 3.


83

The Ember Week.—Second Collect.

Replenish them with the truth of Thy doctrine, and endue them with innocency of life.” —Prayer Book.

Wisdom divine, o'er-mast'ring mortal sin!—
Here is true Hist'ry, when our souls begin
In Providence, by faith unroll'd,
More than man's will to there behold;
And, while maintaining that our choice is free,
High o'er all human strife, discerns Theocracy.
Taught by that science which Thy Word illumes,
Thus can a Saint disperse those deepening glooms,
Which oft around Christ's home below
Have darken'd with mysterious woe,
And seem, to sense, as though Destruction came
To banish from the earth the Brightness of Thy name!
Oh! blessed thought, that with almighty spell,
Circles the Church His first-born prize so well,—
Head over all Things” is that Love
Incarnate, on God's Throne above,
Beneath Whose will Eternity and Time
In full subjection bow, to aid His Cause sublime!
Bestower of all gifts, supremely-good,
Hence on Thy promise hath for ages stood
Thine order'd Church, where Truth and Grace
Regenerate our fallen race,—
Above mutation, policy, and all
The Antichrists of earth “a sure progression” call!
And now, while Apostolic gifts descend
As Priest and Levite round the Altar bend,
Mysterious Unction, Love, and Light,
To guide and govern each aright,—
Communicate to them, O Christ! we pray,
And in each heart enshrine Thy Paraclete, to day.

84

In just gradation of a Threefold Line,
Are those pure Orders, faith reveres as Thine,
Which through successive links referr'd,
We backward trace to that high Word,
Firm as God's throne, and like His promise, true,—
“As Me the Father sent, mine Heralds, send I you!”
And thus, anointed Almoners for heaven!
To whom, by sacramental law, are given
Most awful Powers, for Christ to wield,
Albeit in simple rites conceal'd,—
Yours may the Everlasting Urim be,
And in consistent lives, may Love her Thummim see.
Replenish'd by heaven's radiant truth within,
And sanctified beyond prevailing sin,
Ambassadors! now speed ye forth
From east to west, and south and north,
In earthen vessels holding Treasures, far
Transcending jewell'd mines, which in creation are!
Grace is the master-gift of Love profound,
Peerless bestowal by the Godhead crown'd:—
Without it, each prophetic Gift
Will, Satan-like, the soul uplift;
And what in Pulpit noblest sermons preach,
The language of bad Life will sinfully unteach!
'Tis by a soul of purity and prayer
Lord of the Church! true Priests anointed are:
And, little heed such, where they hie,
If guarded by That sleepless Eye,
Within Whose beams of overwatching love
Saints are secure below, as Seraphin above.
 

Ps. lxxvi. 10.

John xiv. 23.

See Ordination Service.

Deut. xxxiii. 8.


85

Collect for Pardon.

“Let the pitifulness of Thy great mercy loose us.” —Prayer Book.

Bound and bleeding in that chain
Whose links are made of misery,
Rise our sunken hearts again
For heaven-born light, and liberty,—
To Thee, the sole Relief of spirits all
Who mourn for guilt, and Christ their Master call.
Not for weal, or wealth, we ask,
Or sigh for what mere worldlings seek;
While we bear Life's daily task
Our strength is found in being weak,—
Strong in Thy grace, but weak, whene'er we trust
On human Pillars, which are based in dust!
Yet, a ransom, Lord! we crave,
Transcending all terrestrial gift,
E'en thy Sympathies!—which save
And up to Thee ourselves uplift:—
Home of the heart! and centre of each soul,
Heavenward attract us by such blest control.
In Thy Name deep glories dwell,
Whose nature is forgiving love;
Mercies more than numbers tell,
Hover round Thy Throne above,
And wing their flight to this low world of care,
In wafted answer to the Church's prayer.
Thus, in that mysterious hour
When oft some bosom-weight of sin,
Burdens with a crushing power
Exalted thoughts which soar within,
Celestial Ransomer! unbind the chain,
Till holy Freedom shall the heart regain.

86

Not in sickness, gloom, or grief,
Disciples of the Cross can see
That which most demands relief
Besought from prayer-moved Deity:
For, christian sorrows lose their earth-made stings,
And, touch'd by faith, are turned to glorious things!
But thy people, Lord of Glory!
To Thee and Thine betroth'd for ever,
When they bow in prayer before Thee,—
From all corruptions which can sever
Souls from Thyself, internal ransom seek,
And sacred Vengeance on their errors wreak!
Pardon'd guilt will not alone
Capacitate the heart for bliss;
Purity must lend a tone
Before we reach a state like this;
Since, hell exists in nature, more than space,—
And is not heaven begun by inward grace?
Kingly Heart, and holy Mind,
Heroic Saints by hist'ry throned,
Who have most adorn'd mankind
In life and death, this doctrine own'd,—
Meetness for God from Christ's true merit flows,
And none reach heaven, in whom nought heaven-like glows:
Thou, whose property is Love,
On Thee we fix our lifted eyes,
Yearning for that Scene above,
Which dawn'd on David's visioned eyes,—
The coronation of the Holy Ghost,
Glory of feasts!—the final Pentecost!
 

2 Cor. xii. 10.

1 John iv. 8.

Hos. ii. 19.

2 Cor. vii. 11.


87

Prayer for Parliament.

“We humbly beseech Thee, as for this kingdom in general, so especially for the High Court of Parliament.” —Prayer Book.

The captive Exile, far from Judah's clime
Weeping alone by Babel's willow'd streams,
Must oft have pondered o'er Youth's golden prime,
When Fancy revell'd in her fairy dreams,
On vine-clad hills, or by that haunted Sea
Whose blue waves fringe the shores of Galilee.
Yet, nothing stern that songless moment pain'd,
No angry shadows round each home-dream fell,
For, high o'er Wrong, this hallow'd doctrine reign'd,—
He conquers woe, who can endure it well!
Thus, truly meek, Faith spread her fetter'd hands,
Lifted in prayer for peace on hostile lands.
And, when the racking fires of Pagan Rome
Rent young disciples, limb by limb, to death,
Ere tortured Virtue soar'd to Jesu's home
In bleeding glory, and on martyr-breath,
Still, for the Commonwealth the Churches prayed,
And Christ's own Spirit parting souls array'd.
But, if for Governments, whose impious wrong
Convulsed the heart of Liberty, and Truth,
And crush'd the Right with vengeance stern, and strong,
Making a holocaust of Age and Youth—
If for such Empire, temple-prayer ascended,
That heathen-law might be by Heaven defended,
No lagging spirit of reluctant vows
For this high Kingdom in the faith, shall rise!
But, bearing on our consecrated brows
The Sign baptismal, let us scale the skies
With soaring prayer, and seek celestial Light
To guide Britannia in her course, aright.

88

Lord of all Lands! to us a peerless Isle,
An ancient Ark of Liberty and Laws
By Thee is granted; and Thy guardian-smile
Has ever brighten'd round her perill'd cause,
Where Church and State make one incorp'rate Whole,
And both are balanced by a wise control.
Thus, do we supplicate, with soul intense,
Wisdom on high, to strengthen Church, and State,
And find in Deity that true defence
Which forms the good, and sanctifies the great,
And prompts his heart, where'er the Pilgrim roams,
Here to behold a paradise of homes!
Religion is the golden chain which binds
All warring powers and principles, in one,
Where meets the lowest, with the loftiest, mind,
Round that deep Centre, whence all Laws begun—
The Will Divine, by which true Kings alone
Can wield a Sceptre, or sustain a Throne.
Supreme of Councillors! Thou Saviour-God,
Wise by thy wisdom, let true Patriots learn
To tread those path-ways heaven-taught Sages trod,
And England's glory in Thy Grace discern:
So, shall Thy words her sacred watchmen be,
And Britain prosper, when approved by Thee.
 

Jerem. xxix. 7.

Ps. cxxxvii. 4.

Luke xxiii 34

See Tertullian. &c.

For Rain.

“Send us, we beseech Thee—moderate rain and showers.” —Prayer Book.

Hark! how the rain-drops with a silv'ry tone
Are on the languid flowers and fruits descending,
While balmy freshness, from the fields new-mown,
With sudden bloom seems all the landscape blending.
And a green radiance from reviving grass
Sparkles, when swift the breezy air-wings pass.

89

A Hand Almighty, in a viewless course,
Hath softly glided o'er the teeming ground,
And summoned into beauteous life and force
Creative energies, which there abound:—
From the mean insect, to you mighty Sun,
A new enchantment is from God begun!
Again the conscious brooks their anthems sing,
And wild bees hum within the blossom'd flower,
While young birds quiver on ecstatic wing
And sweetly carol o'er this rain-bright hour:
Around, beneath, one rich expanse of bloom
Hides from the heart, that earth contains a tomb!
O! blessed answer to a church-breath'd prayer
When mercy-showers descend with stealing fall,
That parch'd creation and the pulseless air
Their genial freshness may for man recall;
While, crown'd with plenty, glorious Harvest tells
The Lord is working with His myriad spells!
Nature in God, and God in Nature, too,—
Here is the creed which heaven-taught Science learns;
All veiled causation ever gazing through,
Religion greets Him, and her Lord discerns
In the bright rain-gems which impearl the land,
Or, when the storm-clouds round His throne expand.
And, eyeless are we, more than blind and base,
Victims of flesh, enthrall'd with vilest power,—
Divinity if thus we dread to trace
Nor see Heaven smiling through this gracious hour,
Since the dark heathens could their Rain-gods own,
And gave to Altars a memorial-tone.
Thou teaching Mother! in thy lore of Love
All nature proves a christian shrine to thee,
One vast cathedral, arch'd by skies above,
Where Saints and Angels blend their liturgy,—
Each, in due order, working out the plan,
Creation ministers from God to Man.

90

Lord of my Soul! when rain and sunbeams send
Tokens of Thee, through forest, glade, or field,
Let Faith her anthems with Thy mercy blend
And worship Christ, in His own world reveal'd:
Where men see “Nature,” in a second cause,
She finds a Presence, which the soul o'erawes!
And grant, that on the prayerless minds of those
Who feel the with'ring blast of unbelief,
Thy spirit-dews, by which Devotion grows,
May drop, like latter rains that bring relief;
Till fruitless hearts, by fresh'ning grace restored,
Shall bloom with holiness, and bless The Lord.
 

Heb. i. 14.

For Fair Weather.

“Who in Thy mercy has comforted our souls by this seasonable and blessed change of weather.” —Prayer Book.

The primal Altar was a shrine of praise
Erected on the sod,
When rescued Noah, with adoring gaze,
Forth from the Ark of God
Came at command,—and saw the world around
In deathful slumber bound,
But still, deliver'd from that penal flood
Whose waves of awful ire above the mountains stood!
In dripping brightness greenly shone the earth
Where golden sun-gleams smiled;
As if Creation, like a second birth,
No more by sin defiled,—
Fresh from the cradle of dread waters rose,
And, safe from future woes,
Renew'd that radiance her young features wore
When Adam's priestly heart did first his God adore.

91

And, ever may this virgin-altar preach
Sermons of holy love,
To that true Church, whom vaster mercies reach
Than Noah saw above,
When the calm Bow with curving beauty spread
A symbol o'er his head:—
For, what it preach'd, our Ark of grace enshrines
In sacramental depths, where Love with Life combines.
Fair weather from the fresh'ning North proceeds;
But, in these changes all,
When climate brings to man's perpetual needs
What men “fair weather” call,
The pure expressions of His perfect will
Creation-laws fulfill,
Whether by blast, or breeze, in cloud, or sun,—
Whom Saints and Angels crown the God-revealing One!
Now, while the howling blasts lie hush'd and still,
The blazonry of storms
No longer darkens o'er the cloud-veiled hills
In fierce and thund'rous forms;
The whirlwinds fold their tossing plumes to rest;
And ocean's waveless breast
Mirrors the sunbeam, whose incessant play
Breaks o'er the dimpling tide, which heaven's soft hues array.
God of fair Weather! hymns to Thee we lift
O Thou! That hearest prayer,
From Whom descends each atmospheric gift
Thy lauding People share;
The plague of waters might we justly meet,—
But, on the Mercy-seat
Reigns that Incarnate Priest, to Whom we pray,
Under Whose calming gaze all tempests clear away.
And thus, an omnipresent Gospel dwells,
In symbol, or in sign,
Through vast creation, whose material spells
Image the Cross divine,—

92

Each, by mute eloquence, proclaiming Him
Whom Souls and Seraphim
With blended unity of praise adore,
And in Whose heart are shrined all blessings now in store.
The hush of Nature is a holy thing,
A calm which hath a Creed:
For, e'en as Tempests unto conscience bring
Mem'ries which make it bleed,
Typing the guilt these storm-clouds well present
That shade the firmament,—
So, in the balm and beauty of bright weather,
Christ and Creation seem by Mercy brought together.
Lyre of the heart! let all thy chorded praise
Vibrate with lauding zeal;
And unto Him, Devotion, lift thy gaze
In Whom all gifts reveal
A pardon infinite, by anguish gain'd
Upon the Cross blood-stained,
When He hung there, between the earth and sky,
While Heaven look down amazed, to see her Maker die!
Hence, awful are our mercies! bleeding Lord,
When each by Scripture read,
Since they are mottoed by a mystic word
Which speaks,—“Thy Saviour bled!”
Bled to redeem what guilt to ruin gave,
And none prevailed to save,
But Love Incarnate, in Whose Person met
Merit and Manhood both, to pay sin's boundless debt!
And, e'en as Aaron on his raiment wore
Mysterious Bells, whose tone
Sounded, whene'er he went his God before
Under the mercy-throne,—
So, for each gift let Faith her harp prepare
And laud Him ev'rywhere,
On Whose vast merit hangs Creation's whole,
Not less the Lord of earth, than Saviour of the soul!
 

Gen. ix. 13.

Job xxxvii. 11.


93

For Plenty.

“Continue Thy loving-kindness unto us, that our land may yield us her fruits.” —Prayer Book.

While the breezy woodlands sing
And the ripen'd corn-fields bring
Bending harvests, rich and rare,
Seek we, Lord, the Shrine of prayer.
What is Growth, in fruit, or field,
All which golden summers yield,—
But indeed a sacred Birth
Preaching God through all the earth!
Verdant haunts, and vine-clad hills,
Freshness which the landscape fills,
Each can tune the harp of thought
Waking tones with wonder fraught,—
Wonder, that a sin-born race
Still behold Thy mercy-Face
Beaming down such radiant bliss
On a world depraved as this!
Did the foodless soil remain
Scorch'd by heat, or drench'd by rain,
Were our flocks and herds to fail,
And a famish'd Empire's wail
Heard to pierce yon deafen'd skies,—
Could we dare uplift our eyes,
Nor in all, pure Justice see
Vindicating Truth, and Thee?
But in Christ, reveal'd Thou art
Pouring with paternal Heart
Peace and plenty, far and wide
Rich as Canaan's seer descried.

94

Eden of the Ocean, smiles
Thus our Queen of sceptred Isles,
Fair and fruitful, free and bold,
Such as poet-dreams behold!
Fountains, lakes, and lovely dells,
Woods and groves, with haunting spells,
Garden-slope and winding glade,—
Lord! in each hast Thou display'd
Signs and symbols, that Thy hand
Hath adorn'd our wave-girt Land
With high gifts of heavenly power,
Linking Thee with scene, and hour.
To the Giver in His gift
Lauding worship thus we lift,—
Looking through each veil that lies
On each charm Thy grace supplies.
Let our soaring hearts ascend,
And their anthem'd praises blend
With Heaven's orchestra on high,
Echo'd through eternity!
Might the vast creation feel
What Thy words to us reveal,
Matter then, as well as Mind,
Would adore Thee, with mankind.
Living Christ of holy love!
Waft pure wisdom from above,
Faith, and feeling,—all which can
Raise and rescue sunken Man.
Lost in Self, but saved in Thee,
Let our bright'ning spirits be
Ever growing, more and more,
Like the Lord Whom they adore.
 

Acts xiv. 17.


95

For Peace and Deliverance.

“All the world may know that Thou art our Saviour and mighty Deliverer.” —Prayer Book.

But late, was heard the battle-roar
In boding echoes round the shore,
Peal after peal in hollow thunder telling
Tales of dread conflict, blood and death,
Which paled the cheek, and check'd the breath,
In many a widow'd Heart, and wasted dwelling!
Now, Heaven has sent benign release;
And in the balm of blessed peace
A christian Empire is profoundly learning,
That God the only Giver is
Of public, as of private, bliss,—
Though seldom thank'd by spirits undiscerning!
Oh! taught by Grace, and truly-wise,
Their spirit which in all descries
The hand of Goodness, and the heart of God:—
Such, everywhere His guidance feel,
Who fans within their fainting zeal
And bears them onward o'er Life's bleakest road.
O Thou! Who wert a Rock and Tower,
A Fortress in some fearful hour
When cannon-thunders round the ranks were rolling,—
Now, while amid the sad repose
Which many a tomb-shade o'er us throws,
Knells for the dead from solemn fanes are tolling,
Salvation's “Captain!” on Thy battle-Throne
We laud Thee,—as that Power alone
High o'er the clouds of savage war presiding:
Helmet and hawberk, sword and shield
No shelter from the havoc yield,
Except Thy Hand heroic souls be guiding.

96

When, buried in the Red Sea-wave,
The Host of Egypt found a grave,
While marching Israel saw a billow-wall
On either side each warrior stand,
As on they move o'er waveless land,
Guided by miracle which guarded all,—
Moses and Miriam sang that Song
Repeating time and truth prolong,
Where grace and gratitude together meet;
While Deborah's fierce anthem fires
The soul with more than Earth inspires,
As God in battle her brave numbers greet!
But, were we dumb, each Pagan shrine
Would thrill us into shame divine,
For, in their blindness, conqu'ring Heathens praised
Some god, by whose celestial arm
Their hearth and home were kept from harm,
And wreath'd due Altars, for their glory raised.
E'en thus, when Church and State were one,
Religion graced whate'er was done
Of great and glorious by an Empire's heart:
Monarchs uncrown'd, to worship went,
And praised the Lord Omnipotent
While chanting myriads took the choral part.
At Agincourt, when Vict'ry waved
Old England's banner, when she braved
The Gallic Charles with all his glitt'ring host,—
See royal Henry gaze on high,
With plumèd warriors, kneeling by,
And hymn the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
But creedless men of colder days
Shrink from the angel-work of praise,

97

Nor the dread Giver in His gifts adore;—
Self, sin, and sense, combine to be
Their own consummate trinity,
Who dream it madness to aspire for more!
But Thou, Incarnate Source of truth,
Guardian of age, and Guide of youth,
Let pure disciples from Thy doctrine learn,
Both war and peace, and all they are
To consecrate by offered prayer,
And with bright fervors of devotion burn.
Hence, in lauding choirs of love,
Lift we our chants to Christ above,
From Whom descendeth earth's release,
Preached in that Church, by whose true heart
Infant of grace! thou wert, and art
Baptised for battle, and prepared for peace.
 

See Hooker, passim.

See Baptismal Service for Infancy.

For Public Peace at Home.

“Heavenly Father, who alone makest men to be of one mind in a house.” —Prayer Book.

When Jesu walk'd the midnight-waves
That foam'd, and flash'd in lightning-glare,
Or, darken'd like devouring graves
On sea and shipmen, tossing there,
Nature obey'd her present God,
And crouch'd beneath His calming Eye,
As though she felt the feet which trod,
Belong'd to Him, who rules the sky!

98

But storms arise, of deeper swell,
And tempests of a darker sway,
Which in our mortal bosom dwell,
By Law, nor Reason, lull'd away.
Passion, and pride, and lust and sin,
With stern emotions, fierce, or wild,
All, in mad discord, mix'd within,—
How often have they man defiled!
And who, but He, Whose word and will
The storms of Nature's realm control,
Can say to spirits—Peace! be still!
And calm thee down, tempestuous soul?
Men wonder, how the Ark contain'd
In perfect concord, brute and bird,
Under a ruling spell restrain'd,
And not in war and wildness stirr'd.
And yet, a miracle we find
Of higher range and holier law,—
When home is one harmonious mind,
By love becalm'd and christian awe.
All hateful tempests of the heart,
Which blacken there, with turbid gloom,
Sooth'd by The Saviour, thence depart,
And smiles of peace their reign resume.
The soul is hush'd beneath the balm
Till heaven seems mirror'd by its rest,
As moonlight, when the waves are calm,
Lies tranced upon the ocean's breast.

99

Deliverance from Plague.

“In the midst of judgment remembering mercy, hast redeemed our souls from the jaws of death.” —Prayer Book.

That inward cowardice of palsied will
Fainting and faltr'ing, at the word, “Be still,
“Be still, and know that I am God”
Though sternly fall the Judgment-rod,—
The Children of the Church, O, Lord,
Whose heaven is in Thy holy Word,
Such cowardice, by faith's heroic spell
Have wisely master'd, and resisted well.
Yet, though endurance be the law of Faith,
When Pestilence hath ceased a clime to scathe,
Celestial hearts may sing and soar
And that dread Trinity adore,
Who in fierce judgment feel for Man,
Pursue on high Their mercy-plan,
And, while pale Empires draw contagious breath,
Deliver myriads from the jaws of Death.
Great God! it was indeed, Thy wrathful day
When in our streets unburied corses lay,
While gloom sepulchral, deep as dread,
O'er hearts and homes was thickly spread,
And chills of damping awe oppress'd
Each pulse that play'd in Sorrow's breast,
Till friends shrank frighted, if perchance, they met,
As though man wonder'd, man was living, yet!
But, if when sickness, fang'd with fearful pains,
Rends the worn flesh, and like a Demon reigns,
And fresh-dug grave, and frequent knell,
The triumphs of destruction tell,

100

While sackcloth'd Guilt, with groaning prayer
Her litany of woe declares,—
When dies the Plague, and Pestilence departs,
We praise thee, God,” sing all regenerate hearts!
Oh, blest revival! when the bloom and blush
Of health return, and in one glowing rush
Tides of enchantment seem to roll
Through each glad vein, with such control
That lip and limb, and heart and eyes
Are touched with new-born energies,
And earth and heaven that hue of glory wear
That beams and brightens through some answer'd prayer.
And yet, in such millennial glee of mind,
Fond mem'ry cannot leave the lost behind!
For blanks remain in home and heart,
And sorrows deep which ne'er depart,
While crowded graves, in churchyards tell,
How darkly frowns Almighty fell
On true affections, in their fullest power,
When God descended in His judgment-hour!
Thus, gladness hath a touch of holy grief
To shade the brightness of our blest relief;—
E'en as of old, the Temple-wall
Did to each time-hoar'd Saint recall
The vanished Shrine of other days
Reared to Jehovah's awful praise,—
So that, 'mid shouting joy, they wept and wailed,
And mirth and melancholy, by turns, prevailed.
Hence, gracious Lord, this lauding hour perceives
A mental shadow for the dead which grieves:
Though brightning Mercy strew our path
Where daily life its duty hath,
Ghosts of gone joy around us float
And, mingled with each mirthful note,
Sighs from the deep of aching Hearts declare
The lost lies buried by affection, there!
 

Mark ix. 18.

Ezra iii. 12, 13.


101

Deliverance from Common Sickness.

“It hath pleased Thee—to asswage the contagious sickness, and restore the voice of joy and health in our dwellings.” —Prayer Book.

A faculty there seems in eye and ear,
From whence pure grace and harmony are known
Without it, vast creation would appear
Devoid of beauty and deprived of tone.
And, as Proportion gives our taste a law
So, moral Sense must human action guide;—
Such was the truth each wiser heathen saw
Long ere the earth beheld the Crucified!
But, when we view Thine everlasting Cross,
Lord of this ruined world, by grace redeemed,
And strive to fathom our immortal loss
Had never thence atoning life-blood stream'd,
Reason and conscience are alike o'ercome
By such transcendencies of Love Divine;
O'er the dread Scene our faith and feeling roam,
And cry in wonder,—“All the Work is Thine!”
And now, when sickness, with contagious ire,
The blight consuming and the blast of pain
Have all subsided, and our homes respire
The pangless airs of perfect health again,
No trains funereal through our streets are led,
And dwellings, once where blinded windows told
Big tears were dropping o'er some anguished bed,—
Rejoicing inmates in their chambers hold.
God of pure goodness! may such pard'ning love
Be to our souls a ladder, whence to rise
On steps of mercy, till we pause above,
And worship Jesus with adoring eyes!

102

In the bright Easter of this blessed hour
Each lauding sacrifice thy Church would bring,
To Thee, by gentleness, and not by power
Throned in the heart, as Man's Incarnate King.
 

Ps. xviii. 35.

Prayer for all Conditions.

“We humbly beseech Thee for all sorts and conditions of men.” —Prayer Book.

The heart beats catholic in christian prayer
Whose tones interpret what our wants declare,
When soaring worship, sanctified by love,
Echoes the Litanies and Lauds above.
The Root of Manhood is divinely One:
In God we terminate, what God begun,
When back returns the spirit which He gave
And Christ was agonised from hell to save.
Such the pure brotherhood by scripture taught,
With truth and tenderness most deeply fraught;
While Providence by full expression seals
Each unity our blood, and breath reveals.
But in Thy Temple, Lord, may conscience learn
Profounder facts than reasoning Minds discern,
Who from Creation's homilies would read
Those saving lessons fallen spirits need.
By grace incorp'rate, with celestial span
Thy Church o'erarches universal Man;
For “all conditions” bends her suppliant knee,
And hallows each by sacrifice to Thee.

103

Thou art the Bond, by Whose cementing ties
Each sep'rate Member to the whole supplies
Secrets of strength, and sympathies which glow
With the deep fervours faith and heaven bestow.
This be Her creed! and then, though crush'd by wrong,
Yet will the Church in holiness be strong;
Arm'd with high gifts, whose quenchless life within
Subdues the universe, by conqu'ring sin!
Mother of Saints! to God and Angels dear,
Now for affliction let thy sacred tear
In soothing concord with the sad arise,
And speak of Sympathy beyond the skies.
On Soul, and Body, and their suffering all
Divine Consoler! let Thy Gilead fall,—
Drops of sweet balm, that make the will resign'd,
And heal the ulcers of a wounded mind.
And grant, O God! adoring Bliss that prays
In the bright Eden of unweeping days,
May be admonish'd; and from sorrow learn
Truths which the godless oft too late discern!
And ye, pale Miniatures of Christ on earth,
Poor in false wealth, yet priceless in true worth,
Seek from the Church's prayer sublime relief,—
Whose heart is larger than the largest grief.
God of all glories! thus to Thee alone,
Though veiling darkness may invest Thy Throne,
Faith lifts her voice:—oh! grant some blest reply
Which proves Thee “Father,” when Thy Children cry.
 

Rev. vi. 10.

Rev. v. 9.

Eccles. xii. 7.

Acts xvii. 26.

Ephes. iv. 19.

Rom. vi. 5.


104

General Thanksgiving.

“We bless Thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life.” —Prayer Book.

Shall lauding Angels round the Throne
Unecho'd, chant their hymns alone,
Nor wake on earth some answ'ring tone?—
Hallelujah! glorious Lord!
Bright though they are in wingèd glory,
Who cast their coronets before Thee
Lamb, and Light of christian story,—
Hallelujah! gracious Lord!
Though purer, calmer, nobler, far,
Blest Angels than thy People are
Who fight in flesh the spirit-war,—
Hallelujah! worship'd Lord!
Still, never can seraphic Heart
In Thy redemption have such part
As they, whose priested God Thou art,—
Hallelujah! perfect Lord!
Forgiven Saints can love Thee most,
Whose guilt has felt the awful cost
Of That which purchased back the Lost,—
Hallelujah! dying Lord!
Thus, lift we, then, our swelling laud
And choral anthems pour abroad,
Enrapt, sublimed, and overawed,—
Hallelujah! risen Lord!
Let all we have be hailèd Thine,
In one vast gift of Grace divine
Descending from th' Eternal Trine,—
Hallelujah! reigning Lord!

105

Eternity will ne'er recount,
Or, master the untold amount
Of mercies in Salvation's fount,—
Hallelujah! boundless Lord!
Safe in the Ark of Thy dread Hands
Creation firm through Calv'ry stands,
With all its host of seas and lands,—
Hallelujah! saving lord!
Transcendent Giver of all grace!
Sole Ransomer of Adam's race,
Unveil the glories of Thy Face,—
Hallelujah! thronèd Lord!
Let all with each, and each with all,
In endless gratulation fall
Low at Thy Feet, and loudly call,—
Hallelujah! crownèd Lord!
Life's holiness is heaven begun,
Whose Root is that Incarnate One
Of saints and souls the inward Sun,—
Hallelujah! pleading Lord!
From Sin and Self, oh! set us free,
That living hymns our lives may be
In time, as in eternity,—
Hallelujah! All in All!
 

Heb. iii. 1.