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In travailings of second birth,—
Thy children hold thee still to earth:
The time for thy release is come,
And ready is thy heavenly home.

When 'mid the Twelve thy throne is set,
And we shall be for judgment met,
May we whom from the dead of night
God calls in thee to see His light,
For ever with the angelic host
Sing Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

AT THE MATTINS.

Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord; that I may know Him, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death.-PHILIP. iii.

"Sudore sat tuo fides."

YES, thou hast drain'd thy Master's cup,

His bitter woes ador'd,

And by thy sufferings hast fill'd up

The suffering of thy Lord.

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Not only on thy body borne
Thy Master's mark impress'd,
But He within thy spirit worn
Himself doth manifest.

So, holy Paul, thou liv'st no more,
Art dead with Him that died;
But in thy bosom evermore

Doth live the Crucified.

Then rise aloof, and the third heav'n, Once heard, shall now to Thee, From out its inmost fountains given, Break everlastingly.

( in thy teaching, while we may,

Still let us more abide,

And follow thee on Christ's blest way, The follower and the guide.

Grant this, O Thou in Spirit one,

Thrice holy, One and Three,

And ever be to Thee alone,
All glory be to Thee.

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THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY VISITING ELIZABETH.

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of one that bringeth good tidings!-Is. lii.

"Montes, superbum verticem."

YE mountains, bend ye low,
O'er which the Virgin flies,
To whom the starry skies
Would their glad summits bow.

In maiden fear conceal'd,

Long hid in quiet home,

She now abroad doth come,
With charity her shield.

She flies without delay,—

She flies from human eyes,

Not to be seen, she flies,

And fears lest aught betray.

Blest earth, whereon she trod,
Put forth your fragrance sweet ;-
Blest hills, that felt her feet,
The mother with her God.

More blest ye friends, whose guest She now doth silence break,

Of heavenly things to speak,

And where her footsteps rest.

The Father, who doth send,
The Son, who saves the lost,
The guiding Holy Ghost,
We praise Thee without end.

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ST. MARY MAGDALENE.

AT THE FIRST VESPERS.

What a word is this! for with authority and power He commandeth the unclean spirits, and they come out.-LUKE iv. 36.

"Procul maligni cedite spiritus."

AVAUNT, ye fiends unclean,
It is our God commands;

Spare the worn Magdalene

From your tormenting bands:

They hear Christ's voice in dread dismay—
The seven-fold fiends are fled away.

Now, to herself restor❜d,

She follows Christ alone,

And treasures every word

Which she from Him hath won ;And now, beneath the accursed wood

Whereon He hung, she weeping stood.

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