Again Thou dost Thy form resume,
A Victim ready for the tomb,

And thence descend

In lowliness ineffable,

Thy Father's mandate to fulfil,
Unto the end.

O Christ, who now Thyself dost hide,
May faith our darkling spirits guide,
And firmly hold,

That when these fleshly vessels break,
We of Thy goodness may partake,
And Thee behold.

And with an undefiled tongue
May sing the Spirit, ever young,

Through Heav'n's long days,

Sing Thee, whose voice was heard aloud, Sing Thee, who wast beneath the cloud, In endless praise.

AT THE MATTINS.

See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh. For if they escaped not who refused Him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from Him who speaketh from Heaven.-HEB. XII.

"Jesu dulcedo cordium."

JESU, the heart's own sweetness, and true light,
Thou art the secret Fountain that o'erflows
The weary soul, surpassing all delight,

In whom each anxious longing finds repose.

Stay with us, Lord, and with Thy kindly ray
Enlighten our dark spirits, at whose birth
Dark shades shall flee the opening eye of day,

And sweetness shall revive the drooping earth.

When Thou the heart dost visit, all things seem
Made new, Truth shines in her unclouded form,
Emerging from the world as from a dream;
And Love, her face beholding, waxeth warm.

Good Jesus, while time's scroll I still unfold,
Do Thou to me Thy love make manifest,
That I, 'mid clouds that wrap me, may behold
Thine everlasting glory, and find rest.

He whom Thy love makes glad as with new wine, He knows that knowledge which is from above; Full blest is he; that fulness is Divine,

And there is nothing else that he can love.

Thou art the Fount of pity; as it flows

All drink of Thine abundance infinite:

Thou art the only Sun Thy country knows ; Scatter the clouds, and show us Thy true light.

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST BEHEADED IN PRISON.

AT THE FIRST VESPERS.

I will speak of Thy testimonies also even before kings, and will not be ashamed.-PSALM CXIX

"Quis ille sylvis e penetralibus."

WHO hither comes from shrines of the dark wood,
With voice that sternly cries; and as he goes
Hang on his words a growing multitude?

His is no brow that swells with fancied woes,
Nurs'd in a palace or a court's repose:
No reed is he which to the moaning gale
Waves its tall shadow in the moon-light pale.

For thrice-ten years in desert haunts profound
He hath been rear'd to holy hardihood,

And the deep wild now hears again the sound
Of her Elijah in the solitude;

Who with his spirit bold and might endued
The thunders of God's law proclaims aloud,
To soldier, Pharisee, and humble crowd.

And now admitted to the kingly hall

Unto the subtle tyrant he draws near;
No coward fears the Prophet's heart appal,
No courtly favor wins, nor listening ear
His holy admonitions glad to hear ;
But e'en in kingly ears, severe and free,
He warning speaks of foul adultery.

To Thee, O God, the Father, Spirit, Son,
To Thee, O holy, holy, holy Three,
To Thee, O blessed Three, O awful One,
O Thou who dwellest in eternity,

All love, all might, all glory be to Thee,
A sacrifice to Thee our hearts we raise,

Make Thou them meet to sing Thine endless praise.