Mornings are mysteries; the first, world's youth,
Man's resurrection, and the future's bud,
Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light, truth
Is styl'd their star; the stone and hidden food:
Three blessings wait upon them, one of which
Should move-they make us holy, happy, rich.
When the world's up, and every swarm abroad,
Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay;
Despatch necessities; life hath a load
Which must be carried on, and safely may :
Yet keep those cares without thee; let the heart
Be God's alone, and choose the better part.
EVENING HYMN.
Thomas Ken.
ALL praise to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, oh, keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thy own Almighty wings!
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ill that I this day have done :
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed;
To die, that this vile body may
Rise glorious at the judgment-day.
Oh! may my soul on thee repose,
And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close-
Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make
To serve my God when I awake.
When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No pow'rs of darkness me molest.
Dull sleep!-of sense me to deprive ;
I am but half my time alive;
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are griev'd,
To lie so long of thee bereav'd.
But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns,
Let it not hold me long in chains;
And now and then let loose my heart,
Till it an Hallelujah dart.
The faster sleep the senses binds,
The more unfettered are our minds;
Oh, may my soul from matter free,
Thy loveliness unclouded see!
Oh, when shall I, in endless day,
For ever chase dark sleep away;
And hymns with the supernal choir
Incessant sing, and never tire?
Oh, may my Guardian while I sleep,
Close to my bed his vigils keep,
His love angelical instil,
Stop all the avenues of ill.
THE dew is on the summer's greenest grass,
Through which the modest daisy blushing peeps;
The gentle wind that like a ghost doth pass,
A waving shadow on the corn-field keeps ;
But I, who love them all, shall never be
Again among the woods, or on the moorland lea!
The sun shines sweetly-sweeter may it shine!-
Blessed is the brightness of a summer day;
It cheers lone hearts; and why should I repine,
Although among green fields I cannot stray! Woods! I have grown, since last I heard you wave, Familiar with death, and neighbour to the grave!
These words have shaken mighty human souls-
Like a sepulchre's echo drear they sound-
E'en as the owl's wild whoop at midnight rolls
The ivied remnants of old ruins round.
Yet wherefore tremble? Can the soul decay?
Or that which thinks and feels in aught e'er fade
away?
Are there not aspirations in each heart
After a better, brighter world than this? Longings for beings nobler in each part
Things more exalted-steeped in deeper bliss? Who gave us these? What are they? Soul, in thee The bud is budding now for immortality!
Death comes to take me where I long to be;
One pang, and bright blooms the immortal flower; Death comes to lead me from mortality,
To lands which know not one unhappy hour; I have a hope, a faith-from sorrow here
I'm led by death away-why should I start and fear ? If I have loved the forest and the field,
Can I not love them deeper, better there?
If all that power hath made, to me doth yield
Something of good and beauty-something fair-
Freed from the grossness of mortality,
May I not love them all, and better all enjoy ?
A change from woe to joy-from earth to heaven,
Death gives me this-it leads me calmly where
The souls that long ago from mine were riven
May meet again! death answers many a prayer. Bright day, shine on! be glad : days brighter far Are stretch'd before my eyes than those of mortals are.
THE CHRISTIAN GRACES.
FAITH, Hope, and Charity-these three,
Yet is the greatest Charity:
Father of Lights! these gifts impart,
To mine and every human heart.
Faith, that in prayer can never fail;
Hope, that o'er doubting must prevail;
And Charity, whose name above
Is God's own name-for God is Love.
The morning star is lost in light;
Faith vanishes at perfect sight;
The rainbow passes with the storm,
And Hope, with sorrow's fading form.
But Charity, serene, sublime,
Unlimited by death or time,
Like the blue sky's all-bounding space,
Holds heaven and earth in one embrace.
WHERE SHALL REST BE FOUND.
O WHERE shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?
'Twere vain the ocean depths to sound, Or pierce to either pole.
Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.
There is a death whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath;
Oh, what eternal horrors hang
Around "the second death!"
Lord God of truth and grace,
Teach us that death to shun;
Lest we be banished from thy face,
And evermore undone.
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