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Arise, oh King! and be the proud to righteous ruin driven!
FOR ST. JAMES'S DAY. "Forgive !" an awful answer came,
Though sorrows rise and dangers roll would'st be forgiven !"
In waves of darkness o'er my soul,
Though friends are false and love decays, Seven times, Oh Lord! I pardoned them, seven And few and evil are my days, times they sinned again ;
Though conscience, fiercest of my foes, They practice still to work me wo, they triumph Swells with remembered guilt my woes, in my pain;
Yet ev'n in nature's utmost ill,
Peals o'er mine unprotected head,
Till nature, shrieking in the strife,
Would fly to hell, to 'scape from life,
Though every thought has power to kill,
I love thee, Lord! I love thee still !
Oh, by the pangs thyself hast borne,
The ruffian's blow, the tyrant's scorn;
By Sinai's curse, whose dreadful doom
Was buried in thy guiltless tomb: From giddy change by fancy bred;
By these my pangs, whose healing smart
Thy grace hath planted in my heart;
I know, I feel thy bounteous will !
Thou lovest me, Lord! thou lovest me still !
Oh, captain of God's host, whose dreadful might The spirit's help of thee we crave,
Led forth to war the armed Seraphim, That thou whose blood was shed to save,
And from the starry height,
Subdued in burning fight,
Cast down that ancient dragon, dark and grim!,
Thine angels, Christ! we laud in solemn lays,
Our elder brethren of the crystal sky, TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER Who, 'mid thy glory's blaze, TRINITY
The ceaseless anthem raise,
And gird thy throne in faithful ministry!
We celebrate their love, whose viewless wing
But thee, the first and last, we glorify, And the winds kissed his garment tremblingly!
Who, when thy world was sunk in death and sin,
Not with thine hierarchy, The grave unbolted half his grisly door,
The armies of the sky,
All glorious in thy gore,
Therefore, with angels and archangels, we To thy dear love our thankful chorus raise,
And tune our songs to thee
Who art, and ought to be, And, endless as thy mercies, sound thy praise !
Waft, waft, ye winds, his story,
And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory,
It spreads from pole to pole; Till o'er our ransomed nature,
The lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign!
IN TIMES OF DISTRESS AND
DANGER. On God, that madest earth and sky, the darkness
and the day, Give ear to this thy family, and help us when we
pray! For wide the waves of bitterness around our ves
• sel roar, And heavy grows the pilot's heart to view the
rocky shore ! The cross our master bore for us, for him we fain
would bear, But mortal strength to weakness turns, and cour
age to despair! Then mercy on our failings, Lord! our sinking
faith renew! And when thy sorrows visit us, oh send thy pa
BEFORE THE SACRAMENT. BREAD of the world, in mercy broken!
Wine of the soul in mercy shed! By whom the words of life were spoken,
And in whose death our sins are dead! Look on the heart by sorrow broken,
Look on the tears by sinners shed, And be thy feast to us the token
That by thy grace our souls are fed !
AT A FUNERAL. Beneath our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given; Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven! Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay;
Ourselves may be as they.
He lurks in every flower ;
Its peril every hour!
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
On manhood's middle day.
Halt feebly towards the tomb,
And dreams of days to come?
Tum, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
ON RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS. The earth rings hollow from below,
Ou, Saviour of the faithful dead,
With whom thy servants dwell,
Though cold and green the turf is spread
Above their narrow cell,-
No more we cling to mortal clay,
We doubt and fear no more,
Which thou hast trod before !
'Twas hard from those I loved to go,
Who knelt around my bed,
Whose tears bedewed my burning brow, Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not de
Whose arms upheld my head! plore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the As fading from my dizzy view, tomb:
I sought their forms in vain, Thy Saviour has passed through its portal before The bitterness of death I knew, thee,
And groaned to live again. And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the
'Twas dreadful when th' accuser's power gloom!
Assailed my sinking heart, Thou art gone to the grave ! we no longer behold Recounting every wasted hour, thee,
And each unworthy part:
But, Jesus ! in that mortal fray, thee,
Thy blessed comfort stole, And sinners may die, for the Sinless has died !
Like sunshine in a stormy day,
Across my darkened soul! Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking,
When soon or late this feeble breath Perchance thy weak spirit in fear lingered long;
No more to thee shall pray, But the mild rays of paradise beamed on thy Support me through the vale of death, waking,
And in the darksome way! And the sound which thou heardst was the sera
When clothed in fleshly weeds again phim's song!
I wait thy dread decree, Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not de Judge of the world! bethink thee then plore thee,
That thou hast died for me. Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian and guide;
Thou art gone to the grave ! and whole nations bemoan thee, He gave thee, he took thee, and he will restore Who caught from thy lips the glad tidings of peace: thee,
Yet grateful, they still in their hearts shall enthrone thee, And death has no sting, for the Saviour has died !*
And ne'er shall thy name from their memorios cease.
Thou art gone to the grave! but thy work shall not perish, The following stanzas were written as an addition to the
That work which the spirit of wisdom hath blest; above hymn, by an English clergyman, on hearing of the de- His strength shall sustain it, his comforts shall cherish, Cease of the author.
And make it to prosper, though thou art at rest.
Translations of Pindar.
THE FIRST OLYMPIC ODE. Can honour give to actions ill,
And faith to deeds incredible;-
And bitter blame, and praises high,
Fall truest from posterity.-
But, if we dare the deeds rehearse
Of those that aye endure, Or lives there one, whose restless eye
'T were meet that in such dangerous verse Would seek along the empty sky,
Our every word were pure.Beneath the sun's meridian ray,
Then, son of Tantalus, receive A warmer star, a purer day?
A plain unvarnished lay:O thou, my soul, whose choral song,
My song shall elder fables leave, Would tell of contests sharp and strong,
And of thy parent say, Extol not other lists above
That, when in heaven & favoured guest, The circus of Olympian Jove;
He called the gods in turns to feast Whence borne on many a tuneful tongue, On Sipylus, his mountain home:So Saturn's seed the anthem sung,
The sovereign of the ocean foam, With harp, and flute, and trumpet's call,
-Can mortal from such favour prove? Hath sped to Hiero's festival.
Rapt thee on golden car above
To highest house of mighty Jove; Over sheep-clad Sicily
To which, in after day,
As bard in ancient story read,
The dark-winged eagle's prey.-
And when no earthly tongue could tell
The fate of thee, invisible ;-
Nor friends, who sought thee wide in vain,
To soothe thy weeping mother's pain,
Some envious neighbour's spleen,
In distant hints, and darkly, said, No sounding lash his sleek side rended ;
That in the caldron hissing red, By Alpheus' brink, with feet of flame,
And on the god's great table spread, Self-driven, to the goal he tended :
Thy mangled limbs were seen.And earned the olive wreath of fame
But who shall tax, I dare not, I, For that dear lord, whose righteous name
The blessed gods with gluttony?The sons of Syracusa tell :
Full oft the sland'rous tongue has felt Who loves the generous courser well:
By their high wrath the thunder dealt;Beloved himself by all who dwell
And sure, if ever mortal head In Pelop's Lydian colony.
Heaven's holy watchers honoured, -Of earth-embracing Neptune, he
That head was Lydia's lord.— The darling, when, in days of yore,
Yet, could not mortal heart digest All lovely from the caldron red
The wonders of that heavenly feast;' By Clotho's spell delivered,
Elate with pride, a thought unbiest The youth an ivory shoulder bore.
Above his nature soared. -Well!—these are tales of mystery!-
And now, condemned to endless dread, And many a darkly-woven lie
(Such is the righteous doom of fate,) With men will easy credence gain;
He eyes, above his guilty head, While truth, calm truth, may speak in vain; The shadowy rocks' impending weight:For eloquence, whose honeyed sway
The fourth, with that tormented three(1) Our frailer mortal wits obey,
In horrible society!
For that, in frantic theft,
The nectar cup he reft,
For whom a sin it were
With mortal life to share
And who by policy
Can hope to 'scape the eye Of him who sits above by men and gods adored? For such offence, a doom severe, Sent down the sun to sojourn here Among the fleeting race of man;Who, when the curly down began To clothe his cheek in darker shade, To car-borne Pisa’s royal maid(2) A lover's tender service paid. — But, in the darkness first he stood Alone, by ocean's hoary flood, And raised to him the suppliant cry, The hoarse earth-shaking deity.
Nor called in vain, through cloud and storm Half-seen, a huge and shadowy form,
The god of waters came.He came, whom thus the youth addressed"Oh thou, if that immortal breast
Have felt a lover's flame, A lover's prayer in pity hear, Repel the tyrant's brazen spear
That guards my lovely dame!And grant a car whose rolling speed May help a lover at his need; Condemned by Pisa's hand to bleed Unless I win the envied meed
In Elis' field of fame!
Beheld a stock of warriors spring,
Six valiant sons, as legends sing.–
Where Alpheus' stream in wat'ry ring,
Near that blest spot where strangers move
The altar of protecting Jove.-
The present is our own!
The passing hour alone.-
(A grateful task,) be mine;
To praise his ancient line!
To dwell with heroes like to thee,
For youthful knights thirteen
By him have slaughtered been, His daughter vexing with perverse delay.
Such to a coward's eye
Were evil augury;Nor durst a coward's heart the strife essay!
Yet, since alike to all
The doom of death must fall, Ah! wherefore, sitting in unseemly shade,
Wear out a nameless life,
Remote from noble strife, And all the sweet applause to valour paid? Yes!—I will dare the course! but, thou, Immortal friend, my prayer allow!"
II. TO THERON OF AGRAGAS, VICTOR
IN THE CHARIOT RACE.
Thus, not in vain, his grief he told
The ruler of the wat'ry space Bestowed a wondrous car of gold,
And tireless steeds of winged pace.So, victor in the deathful race,
He tamed the strength of Pisa's king, And, from his bride of beauteous face,
O song! whose voice the harp obeys,