And men, at war with men, hear not And ye, beneath life's crushing load For lo! the days are hastening on, Its ancient splendours fling, And the whole world send back the song Which now the angels sing. E. H. Sears LXXI THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM When, marshall'd on the nightly plain, The glittering hosts bestud the sky; One star alone of all the train Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks Once on the raging seas I rode, The storm was loud, the night was dark, The ocean yawn'd-and rudely blow'd The wind that toss'd my foundering bark : Deep horror then my vitals froze, It was the star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all; Now safely moor'd, my perils o'er, For ever and for evermore, The star! the star of Bethlehem! H. Kirke White THE SEA OF GALILEE LXXII How pleasant to me thy deep blue wave, For the Glorious One, who came to save, Fair are the lakes in the land I love, It is not that the wild gazelle Comes down to drink thy tide; But He that was pierced to save from hell' It is not that the fig-tree grows, But that Sharon's fair and bleeding rose Graceful round thee the mountains meet, But ah, far more! the beautiful feet Those days are past-Bethsaida, where ? Tell me, ye mould'ring fragments, tell, Ah! would my flock from thee might learn How days of grace will flee; How all an offer'd Christ who spurn Shall mourn, at last, like thee. And was it beside this very sea The new-risen Saviour said Three times to Simon, "Lovest thou Me? My lambs and sheep then feed?" O Saviour! gone to God's right hand ! Graved on Thy heart is this lovely strand, O give me, Lord, by this sacred wave, That I may feed, till I find my grace, R. M. McCheyne . LXXIII SAINT ANDREW. When brothers part for manhood's race, 'Tis true, bright hours together told, Shall last in fancy unimpair'd. E'en round the death-bed of the good But yet our craving spirits feel We shall live on, though fancy die, Of love to last eternally. Who art thou that wouldst grave thy name Thus deeply in a brother's heart? Look on this saint, and learn to frame First seek thy Saviour out, and dwell Till thou have scann'd His features well, Such proof as they are sure to find Who spend with Him their happy days, Thus, potent with the spell of Heaven, Till he, too, see his Saviour plain. Or, if before thee in the race, Urge him with thine advancing tread, Till, like twin stars, with even pace, Each lucid course be duly sped. No fading frail memorial give To soothe his soul when thou art gone, But wreaths of hope for ay to live, And thoughts of good together done. That so, before the judgment seat, For endless ages to embrace. J. Keble |