"He wept by Lazarus' grave-how will He bear "This bed of anguish? and his pale weak form "Is worn with many a watch "Of sorrow and unrest. "His sweat last night was as great drops of blood, “And the sad burthen press'd him so to earth, "The very torturers paus'd "To help Him on His way. "Fill high the bowl, benumb His aching sense “With medicin❜d sleep."-O awful in thy woe! The parching thirst of death Is on thee, and thou triest The slumbrous potion bland, and wilt not drink : Putting his solace by : But as at first thine all-pervading look Saw from thy Father's bosom to th' abyss, The infinite descent; So to the end, though now of mortal pangs Made heir, and emptied of thy glory' awhile, Thou meetest all the storm. Thou wilt feel all, that Thou may'st pity all; So clear in agony, Or lose one glimpse of Heaven before the time. Renew'd in every pulse That on the tedious Cross Told the long hours of death, as, one by one, Look Sorrow in the face, And bid her freely welcome, unbeguil'd By false kind solaces, and spells of earth :- For when was Joy so dear, As the deep calm that breath'd, "Father, forgive," Or, “Be with me in Paradise to-day?” And, though the strife be sore, Yet in His parting breath Love masters agony; the soul that seem'd Contented dies away. WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER. Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done. St. Luke xxii. 42. O LORD my God, do Thou thy holy will— I will not stir, lest I forsake thine arm, And break the charm, Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways; Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all с Come, Self-devotion, high and pure, Thoughts that in thankfulness endure, And let me kiss thy placid cheek, And read in thy pale eye serene Their blessing, who by faith can wean Their hearts from sense, and learn to love God only, and the joys above. They say, who know the life divine, And upward gaze with eagle eyne, That by each golden crown on high ̊, Rich with celestial jewelry, that little coronet or special reward which God hath prepared (extraordinary and besides the great Crown of all faithful souls) for those I Which for our Lord's redeem'd is set, All gemm'd with pure and living light, Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. Oft in Life's stillest shade reclining, In Desolation unrepining, Without a hope on earth to find And there are souls that seem to dwell Above this earth-so rich a spell "who have not defiled themselves with women, but follow the (virgin) Lamb for ever." Rp. Taylor, Holy Living, c. xi. sect. 3. |