There, swathed in humblest poverty, On Chast.i.ty's meek lap enshrined, With breathless Reverence waiting by, When we our Sovereign Master find,

Will not the long-forgotten glow Of mingled joy and awe return, When stars above or flowers below First made our infant spirits burn?

Look on us, Lord, and take our parts E'en on Thy throne of purity!

From these our proud yet grovelling hearts Hide not Thy mild forgiving eye.

Did not the Gentile Church find grace, Our mother dear, this favoured day?

With gold and myrrh she sought Thy face; Nor didst Thou turn Thy face away.

She too, in earlier, purer days, Had watched thee gleaming faint and far- But wandering in self-chosen ways She lost Thee quite, Thou lovely star.

Yet had her Father's finger turned To Thee her first inquiring glance: The deeper shame within her burned, When wakened from her wilful trance.

Behold, her wisest throng Thy gate, Their richest, sweetest, purest store, (Yet owned too worthless and too late,) They lavish on Thy cottage-floor.

They give their best-O tenfold shame On us their fallen progeny, Who sacrifice the blind and lame- Who will not wake or fast with Thee!

First Sunday after Epiphany.

They shall spring up as among the gra.s.s, as willows by the water courses. _Isaiah_ xliv. 4.

LESSONS sweet of spring returning, Welcome to the thoughtful heart!

May I call ye sense or learning, Instinct pure, or Heaven-taught art?

Be your t.i.tle what it may, Sweet this lengthening April day, While with you the soul is free, Ranging wild o'er hill and lea.

Soft as Memnon's harp at morning, To the inward ear devout, Touched by light, with heavenly warning Your transporting chords ring out.

Every leaf in every nook, Every wave in every brook, Chanting with a solemn voice, Minds us of our better choice.

Needs no show of mountain h.o.a.ry, Winding sh.o.r.e or deepening glen, Where the landscape in its glory Teaches truth to wandering men: Give true hearts but earth and sky, And some flowers to bloom and die, Homely scenes and simple views Lowly thoughts may best infuse.

See the soft green willow springing Where the waters gently pa.s.s, Every way her free arms flinging O'er the moist and reedy gra.s.s.

Long ere winter blasts are fled, See her tipped with vernal red, And her kindly flower displayed Ere her leaf can cast a shade.

Though the rudest hand a.s.sail her, Patiently she droops awhile, But when showers and breezes hail her, Wears again her willing smile.

Thus I learn Contentment's power From the slighted willow bower, Ready to give thanks and live On the least that Heaven may give.

If, the quiet brooklet leaving, Up the stony vale I wind, Haply half in fancy grieving For the shades I leave behind, By the dusty wayside drear, Nightingales with joyous cheer Sing, my sadness to reprove, Gladlier than in cultured grove.

Where the thickest boughs are twining Of the greenest darkest tree, There they plunge, the light declining- All may hear, but none may see.

Fearless of the pa.s.sing hoof, Hardly will they fleet aloof; So they live in modest ways, Trust entire, and ceaseless praise.

Second Sunday after Epiphany.

Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine: and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now. _St. John_ ii. 10.

THE heart of childhood is all mirth: We frolic to and fro As free and blithe, as if on earth Were no such thing as woe.

But if indeed with reckless faith We trust the flattering voice, Which whispers, "Take thy fill ere death, Indulge thee and rejoice;"

Too surely, every setting day, Some lost delight we mourn; The flowers all die along our way Till we, too, die forlorn.

Such is the world's gay garish feast, In her first charming bowl Infusing all that fires the breast, And cheats the unstable soul.

And still, as loud the revel swells, The fevered pulse beats higher, Till the seared taste from foulest wells Is fain to slake its fire.

Unlike the feast of heavenly love Spread at the Saviour's word For souls that hear His call, and prove Meet for His bridal board.

Why should we fear, youth's draught of joy If pure would sparkle less?

Why should the cup the sooner cloy, Which G.o.d hath deigned to bless?

For, is it Hope, that thrills so keen Along each bounding vein, Still whispering glorious things unseen?- Faith makes the vision plain.

The world would kill her soon: but Faith Her daring dreams will cherish, Speeding her gaze o'er time and death To realms where nought can perish.

Or is it Love, the dear delight Of hearts that know no guile, That all around see all things bright With their own magic smile?

The silent joy that sinks so deep, Of confidence and rest, Lulled in a father's arms to sleep, Clasped to a mother's breast?

Who, but a Christian, through all life That blessing may prolong?

Who, through the world's sad day of strife, Still chant his morning song?

Fathers may hate us or forsake, G.o.d's foundlings then are we: Mother on child no pity take, But we shall still have Thee.

We may look home, and seek in vain A fond fraternal heart, But Christ hath given His promise plain To do a Brother's part.

Nor shall dull age, as worldlings say, The heavenward flame annoy: The Saviour cannot pa.s.s away, And with Him lives our joy.

Ever the richest, tenderest glow Sets round the autumnal sun- But there sight fails: no heart may know The bliss when life is done.

Such is Thy banquet, dearest Lord; O give us grace, to cast Our lot with Thine, to trust Thy word, And keep our best till last.

Third Sunday after Epiphany.

When Jesus heard it, He marvelled, and said to them that followed, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. _St. Matthew_ viii. 10.

I MARKED a rainbow in the north, What time the wild autumnal sun From his dark veil at noon looked forth, As glorying in his course half done, Flinging soft radiance far and wide Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side.

It was a gleam to Memory dear, And as I walk and muse apart, When all seems faithless round and drear, I would revive it in my heart, And watch how light can find its way To regions farthest from the fount of day.