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as thou

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,
But let them dread my vengeance now, to just re I love thee, Lord! I love thee still!

sentment driven!
"Forgive!” the voice of thunder spake, “or never Though Sinai's curse, in thunder dread,
be forgiven!"

Peals o'er mine unprotected head,
And memory points, with busy pain,
To grace and mercy given in vain,

Till nature, shrieking in the strife,
TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER

Would fly to hell, to 'scape from life,
TRINITY

Though every thought has power to kill,

I love thee, Lord! I love thee still !
FROM foes that would the land devour;
From guilty pride, and lust of power;

Oh, by the pangs thyself hast borne,
From wild sedition's lawless hour;

The ruffian's blow, the tyrant's scorn;
From yoke of slavery;

By Sinai's curse, whose dreadful doom
From blinded zeal by faction led;

Was buried in thy guiltless tomb: From giddy change by fancy bred;

By these my pangs, whose healing smart
From poisonous error's serpent head,

Thy grace hath planted in my heart;
Good Lord, preserve us free!

I know, I feel thy bounteous will !

Thou lovest me, Lord! thou lovest me still !
Defend, oh God! with guardian hand,
The laws and ruler of our land,
And grant our church thy grace to stand

MICHAELMAS DAY.
In faith and unity!

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,
May'st, at thy second coming, have

Subdued in burning fight,
A flock to welcome thee!

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!
To conquer and to save, the Son of God
Came to his own in great humility,

We celebrate their love, whose viewless wing
Who wont to ride on cherub wings abroad, Hath left for us so oft their mansion high,
And round him wrap the mantle of the sky. The mercies of their king,
The mountains bent their necks to form his road; To mortal saints to bring,
The clouds dropt down their fatness from on high; Or guard the couch of slumbering infancy.
Beneath his feet the wild waves softly flowed,

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,
(For darkness and the deep had heard his fame, But didst with thine own arm the battle win,
Nor longer might their ancient rule endure;)
The mightiest of mankind stood hushed and tame: Alone didst pass the dark and dismal shore
And, trooping on strong wing, his angels came Alone didst tread the wine-press, and alone,
To work his will, and kingdom to secure :

All glorious in thy gore,
No strength he needed save his Father's name; Didst light and life restore,
Babes were his heralds, and his friends the poor! To us who lay in darkness and undone!

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

tience too!

AN INTROIT
TO BE SUNG BETWEEN THE LITANY AND COMMU-

NION SERVICE.
Oh most merciful !
Oh most bountiful!
God the Father Almighty!
By the Redeemer's
Sweet intercession
Hear us, help us when we cry!

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 !

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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;
And ere another day is done,

Ourselves may be as they.
Death rides on every passing breeze,

He lurks in every flower ;
Each season has its own disease,

Its peril every hour!
Our eyes have seen the rosy light

Of youth's soft cheek decay,
And Fate descend in sudden night

On manhood's middle day.
Our eyes have seen the steps of age

Halt feebly towards the tomb,
And yet shall earth our hearts engage,

And dreams of days to come?

Tum, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread

ON RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS. The earth rings hollow from below,

Ou, Saviour of the faithful dead,
And warns thee of her dead!

With whom thy servants dwell,
Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply

Though cold and green the turf is spread
To truths divinely given;

Above their narrow cell,-
The bones that underneath thee lie

No more we cling to mortal clay,
Shall live for hell or heaven!

We doubt and fear no more,
Nor shrink to tread the darksome way

Which thou hast trod before !
STANZAS

'Twas hard from those I loved to go,
ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

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:
Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side;
But the wide arms of Mercy are spread to enfold

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;-
TO HIERO OF SYRACUSE, VICTOR IN THE HORSE

And bitter blame, and praises high,
RACE.

Fall truest from posterity.-
Can earth, or fire, or liquid air,
With water's sacred stream compare ?
Can aught that wealthy tyrants hold

But, if we dare the deeds rehearse
Surpass the lordly blaze of gold ?-

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,
Who the righteous sceptre beareth, Came golden-haired Ganymede,
Every flower of virtue's tree

As bard in ancient story read,
Wove in various wreath he weareth.-

The dark-winged eagle's prey.-
But the bud of poesy
Is the fairest flower of all;

And when no earthly tongue could tell
Which the bards, in social glee,

The fate of thee, invisible ;-
Strew round Hiero's wealthy hall.
The harp on yonder pin suspended,

Nor friends, who sought thee wide in vain,

To soothe thy weeping mother's pain,
Seize it, boy, for Pisa's sake;
And that good steed's, whose thought will wake Could bring the wanderer home again;

Some envious neighbour's spleen,
A joy with anxious fondness blended :-

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,
And to his mortal peers in feasting poured

For whom a sin it were

With mortal life to share
The mystic dainties of th’ immortal board:

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.–
And now, with fame and virtue crowned,

Where Alpheus' stream in wat'ry ring,
Encircles half his turfy mound,
He sleeps beneath the piled ground ;(3)

Near that blest spot where strangers move
In many a long procession round

The altar of protecting Jove.-
Yet chief, in yonder lists of fame,
Survives the noble Pelop's name;
Where strength of hands and nimble feet
In stern and dubious contest meet;
And high renown and honeyed praise,
And following length of honoured days,
To victor's weary toil repays.-
But what are past or future joys?

The present is our own!
And he is wise who best employs

The passing hour alone.-
To crown with knightly wreath the king,

(A grateful task,) be mine;
And on the smooth Æolian string

To praise his ancient line!
For ne'er shall wandering minstrel find
A chief so just, –a friend so kind;
With every grace of fortune blest ;
The mightiest, wisest, bravest, best!

-
God, who beholdeth thee and all thy deeds,(4)
Have thee in charge, king Hiero!—so again
The bard may sing thy horny-hoofed steeds
In frequent triumph o'er the Olympian plain;
Nor shall the Bard awake a lowly strain,
His wild notes flinging o'er the Cronian steep
Whose ready muse, and not invoked in vain,
For such high mark her strongest shaft shall keep.
Each hath his proper eminence !
To kings indulgent, Providence
(No farther search the will of Heaven)
The glories of the earth hath given.
Still may'st thou reign! enough for me

To dwell with heroes like to thee,
Myself the chief of Grecian minstrelsy.--

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,
Accordant aye with answering string;
What god, what hero wilt thou praise,
What man of godlike prowess sing ?--
Lo, Jove himself is Pisa's king;
And Jove's strong son the first to raise
The barriers of th’ Olympic ring.-
And now, victorious on the wing

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