The Sanctuary :: :: University of Virginia Library

E'en to the inmost centre of the soul
Burning with shame, let men confess the whole
Of that vast debt to Law they owe;
And, while Emanuel welcomes prayer,
Be ours a Litany, inspired with—“spare,
And soothe our agonising woe.”

Low in the dust, we thus Thy Name adore:
Thy ruin'd penitents to grace restore,
And bring them back to heaven and Thee;
So may the soul hereafter live, and shine
In law's obedience, and with love divine
Embrace reveal'd eternity.

How blest are they, whose filial hearts and true,
By Christ atoned, their sinful madness rue:

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And to the Priest Eternal bring
Burdens of guilt, or shame, or gloomy crime,
That darken hope, and agonize all time
With pangs which the remorseful wring.

Here doth the Church man's cheating world oppose,
And teach equality to friends and foes,
By proving,—all apostate are:
Wealth, rank, and splendor, whose seductive lies
The vain re-echo, and the vicious prize,
Vanish, in one confession-prayer!

And lift we, too, this lauding hymn of love
To Him, the Priest of priesthood throned above,—
That not with us, as once of old,
The Priest alone within God's awful Shrine,
Presenteth prayer in secresy divine
Which none but Heaven and he behold.

Not in the bondage of dread Law are we!
But, in the fullness of the Gospel, free
Around a throne of Grace to stand;
And with the Priest our pleading voice to blend,
Finding in God our Father and our Friend,
With lowly heart, and lifted hand.

Sion, not Sinai, is the Mount where man
Enters within the veil of Mercy's plan;
And there, oh Lord! thy Church is found:
Sackcloth'd with grief, or, clothed with saintly zeal,
Charter'd by heaven-born right, Herself to feel
Of Truth the pillar, and the ground.

Levit. xvi.

1 Tim. iii. 15.

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Second Sunday after the Epiphany.

“Continuing instant in prayer.” —Epistle for the Day.

“When ye pray, say, Our Father, &c.” —Luke xi. 2.

With bended knee and bowing head
As oft The Prayer of prayers is said,
Till parch'd and panting spirits feel
The mystic Heaven-dews o'er them steal,
Time and eternity can meet
With Man, before the Mercy-seat;
And inward vision learn to view
That sacramental oneness true,
Which binds the Saviour and the soul
In Unity of love's control.

Adore we then, Incarnate God!
Who, when our world of graves He trod
And scatter'd blessings bright and fast
As beams from out the sun are cast,
And bore for Sin that awful curse
Which else had sunk the Universe!—
Before He drank His cup of Woe
And drain'd it in death's overflow,
Inspired us, as the Truth and Way
Both how to live, and how to pray!

All graces, which our being calm;
All comforts, breathing inward balm;
All hopes, and consolations deep
In homes that wail, or hearts that weep,
The Saviour-God doth thus declare
Are promised by this boundless Prayer:—
Whenever said, or sigh'd, or wept,
Unflinching watch hath Jesu kept
O'er each by whom His words are given
Back to Himself, Who hears in Heaven.

A miracle of Speech thou art!
For, in Thee beats Emanuel's heart.
Thy syllables like pulses seem
To throb with all a Saint can dream

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Of tenderness, divine and deep
Inspiring Him, Who lived to weep;
And in Thy concentrated truth
Can hoary Age and lisping Youth
Find echoed there Devotion's whole,
When most it breathes, and burns with soul!

John xviii. 11.

Is. xliii.

Third Sunday after the Epiphany.

“Shew thyself to the priest.” —Gospel for the Day.

Of old, the sacerdotal blessing flow'd
From Aaron's heaven-commission'd lips;
And on Thy Church not less shall be bestow'd,
Whose glories Law and Type eclipse,
And to that “better Covenant” belong
Based upon Him, the Stronger than the strong.

Dove of our souls! blest Paraclete! descend
And bid the Priest Thy mouthpiece be,
That with his breath absolving grace may blend,
And what it saith, be signed by Thee;
While, inly-prostrate with a kneeling heart,
Devotion feels the Benison Thou art.

Grace from the God Triune!—what more than this
Can hearts enclose, or Christs bestow?
Here found St. Paul a paradise of bliss,—
The Heaven those highest raptures know,
When most his fervours into flame arise
And Love's farewell a final blessing sighs.

So be it, Saviour! with Thy chosen now;
Ere from the Temple-home they part
Bid Thy pure radiance clothe each pensive brow
And threefold unction fill the heart,
That Saints may ever by communion be
Shrined in thy depths, unfathom'd Trinity!

Luke xi. 22.

Num. vi. 25.

John iv. 13.

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Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany.

“Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers.” —Epistle for the Day.

Ruler Divine! in Whom alone
A Monarchy's foundations lie,
Ever around her ancient throne
God save the Queen! let patriots cry.

Though scepter'd with surpassing might
And shrined in more than queenly splendour,
'Tis God Who seals her sacred Right,
And Heaven which must on high defend her.

Replenish'd be the regal-heart
With gifts and graces, rich and rare;
While health and wealth their boon impart,
And blessings more than tongues declare.

Nor pause we here: for, Queens must die;
Truncheons, and crowns, and sceptres fall,
When death shall close a Monarch's eye
In that low dust which levels all.

Hence, for our Island-Queen we pray
That when her earth-bound reign is past
And Kings are judged at Judgment-day,—
Her Crown before the Lord be cast.

God save the Queen! and guard her Crown
By all which Church and Creed can bring;
And ne'er let mad Rebellion frown,
Or Faction her dread peans ring.

Bulwark'd by loving Hearts which beat
With loyalty, from heaven derived,—
Thus may our Monarchs nobly meet
That strength by which the Land has thrived.

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For, not in Arts, or Arms, or Skill,
But in religion, Patriots find
The Power which guides that human Will
Whose motions bless, or blast mankind.

Rev. iv. 10.

Phil. ii. 13.

Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany.

“Let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body.“ —Epistle for the Day.

God is our Want,—come then, celestial Grace,
Unction Divine, anoint Thy chosen race
Who, spirit-born,
Are not forlorn,
But, sacramental heirs of promised heaven,
And have the signs and seals of their adoption given.

Blest be that Church, who thus convenes us all
Morn, noon, and night, on Father-God to call;
With blended heart
To take our part
In orisons, where praying Martyrs found
Pure antipasts of heaven inspiringly abound.

Let but some “two, or three,” together meet
In blended homage at the Mercy-seat,
And He is there
To answer prayer,
Who, not by numbers, but devotion, measures
The yearning faith which seeks for Love's almighty treasures.

“Knowledge of Truth, and Everlasting Life,”—
Giver of both! oh, in this world of strife
While sin and care
Breathe everywhere,
Time cannot tell, but, only future bliss,
How limitless the soar of such high language is!

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Meanwhile, by speech, far wiser than we are,
Wing'd on such words, saints mount on plumes of prayer,
And in His name
Those blessings claim
Th' atoning Saviour for His people brought,
With all that God can give, how infinitely-fraught!

“The Spirit's Unity in bonds of peace”
Brings heaven on earth, the world's divine release:
Here is true wealth,
And hope and health,—
Highest of blessings which our hearts can share,
Which leaves them prayerless all, by thus exhausting prayer!

Prayer of St. Chrysostom.

Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany.

“What manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the Sons of God.” —Epistle for the Day.

“Merciful Father!”—in that word
Thine Incarnation, Lord, unfolds
More than mere Reason ever heard,
Or, Science in proud search beholds.

O Thou! Who, when some contrite heart
By inward sigh ascends to Thee,
An infinite Compassion art,
Still, to Thy Church all-gracious be!

Her heart-cries have a tone which moves
The sympathizing Priest Divine,
Who more, perchance, such music loves
Than Angel-chants, before His shrine.

Rock, Shield, and Sun, of Souls art Thou,
The Church's everlasting Friend!
And faith would realize Thee, now,
And in Thy Courts devoutly bend.

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Hence, not as worldlings supplicate
For time and wealth's decaying-things,—
Souls merely seek a brighter state
Than what this fever'd earth-scene brings;

Nor yet, for selfish calm we pray
Embower'd in some Arcadian spot,
Where pangless hours may roll away
Lull'd in soft dreams of life forgot:

But, this Thy yearning saints desire,—
More of Thyself to share and see,
And, glowing with celestial fire,
Anthem Thy Throne immortally.