And since we see, and not afar, The twilight of the great and dreadful day, Why linger, till Elijah's car Stoop from the clouds? Why sleep ye? rise and pray, Ye heralds seal'd In camp or field Your Saviour's banner to display. Where is the love the Baptist taught, His light should wane, So the whole world to Jesus throng? Thou Spirit who the Church didst lend Her eagle wings, to shelter in the wilde, We pray thee, ere the Judge descend, With flames like these, all bright and undefil'd, Her watchfires light, To guide aright Our weary souls, by earth beguil'd. d St. John iii. 30. He must increase, but I must decrease. e Revelations xii. 14. So glorious let thy Pastors shine, That by their speaking lives the world may learn That sons to parents, all to Thee may turn ; And ready prove In fires of love, At sight of Thee, for aye to burn. f Malachi iv. 6. He shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers. St. Luke i. 17. To turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord. LXXXVII. ST. PETER'S DAY. When Herod would have brought him out, the same night Peter was sleeping. Acts xii. 6. THOU thrice denied, yet thrice belov'd, Watch by thine own forgiven friend; In sharpest perils faithful prov'd, Let his soul love thee to the end. The prayer is heard-else why so deep He loves and is belov'd again Can his soul choose but be at rest? St. John xxi. 15, 16, 17. He dearly loves, and not alone: For his wing'd thoughts are soaring high Where never yet frail heart was known To breathe in vain affection's sigh. He loves and weeps-but more than tears Have seal'd thy welcome and his loveOne look lives in him, and endears Crosses and wrongs where'er he rove: That gracious chiding look, Thy call Even through the veil of sleep it shines, The Angel watching by divines And spares awhile his blissful trance. Or haply to his native lake His vision wafts him back, to talk With JESUS, ere his flight he take, As in that solemn evening walk, h St. Luke xxii, ol. When to the bosom of his friend, The Shepherd, He whose name is Good, Did His dear lambs and sheep commend, Both bought and nourish'd with His blood: Then laid on him th' inverted tree, Which firm embrac'd with heart and arm, Might cast o'er hope and memory, O'er life and death, its awful charm. With brightening heart he bears it on, The unexpressive notes to hear Of angel song and angel motion, Rising and falling on the ear Like waves in Joy's unbounded ocean. His dream is chang'd- the Tyrant's voice But as he rises to rejoice, Not Herod but an Angel leads. |