It shines for us in vain, while drooping sadness Our wintry course do Thou beguile, Nor by the wayside ruins let us mourn, Who have th' eternal towers for our appointed bourne. LII. SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. 1 St. John iii. 13. THE clouds that wrap the setting sun When Autumn's softest gleams are ending, In sweet confusion blending :- When up some woodland dale we catch Or with pleas'd ear bewilder'd watch His chime of restless motion; Still as the surging waves retire Wouldst thou the life of souls discern? The spring of the regenerate heart, But he, whose heart will bound to mark By leaf or flow'ret worn: Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis true, Through the bright shower-drop meet his view; The colouring may be of this earth; The lustre comes of heavenly birth. Even so, who loves the Lord aright, All will be precious in his sight, Since Christ on all hath shin'd: But chiefly Christian souls; Though worn and soil'd with sinful clay, Are yet, to eyes that see them true, All glistening with baptismal dew. Then marvel not, if such as bask In purest light of innocence, If they who hate the trespass most, Love the poor sinner, marvel not, Christ's mark outwears the rankest blot. No distance breaks the tie of blood: Brothers are brothers evermore; Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, That magic may o'erpower; Oft, ere the common source be known, The kindred drops will claim their own, And throbbing pulses silently Move heart towards heart by sympathy. So is it with true Christian hearts; Their mutual share in Jesus' blood An everlasting bond imparts Of holiest brotherhood: Oh! might we all our lineage prove, There is much need: for not as yet Are we in shelter or repose, The holy house is still beset With leaguer of stern foes; Wild thoughts within, bad men without, Are banded in unblest device, Then draw we nearer day by day, |