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Mindful of that sad vision, which in thought From Chebar's plains the captive prophet brought

To see lost Sion's shame. 'Twas morning prime,

And like a Queen new seated on her throne, God's crowned mountain, as in happier time,

Seem'd to rejoice in sunshine all her own; So bright, while all in shade around her lay, Her northern pinnacles had caught th' emerging ray.

The dazzling lines of her majestic roof

Cross'd with as free a span the vault of Heaven, As when twelve tribes knelt silently aloof,

Ere God his answer to their king had given ”,
Ere yet upon the pew-built altar fell
The glory of the LORD, the Lord of Israel.

All seems the same: but enter in and see

What idol shapes are on the wall pourtray'do : And watch their shameless and unholy glee,

Who worship there in Aaron's robes array'd: Hear Judah's maids the dirge to Thanımuz pour P, And mark her chiefs yon orient sun adore 9.

m Ezekiel viii. 3. p Ezekiel viii. 14.

ni Kings viii. 5. o Ezekiel viii. 10.

4 Ezekiel viii. 16.

Yet turn thee, Son of man-for worse than these

Thou must behold: thy loathing were but lost
On dead men's crimes, and Jews' idolatries-

Come learn to tell aright thine own sins' cost,-
And sure their sin as far from equals thine,
As earthly hopes abus'd are less than hopes divine.

What if within His world, His church, our LORD

Have enter'd thee, as in some temple gate,
Where, looking round, each glance might thee afford

Some glorious earnest of thine high estate,
And thou, false heart and frail, hast turn'd from all
To worship pleasure's shadow on the wall.

If, when the LORD of Glory was in sight,

Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear, To bow before the “little drop of light,”

Which dim-eyed men call praise and glory here; What dost thou, but adore the sun,

and scorn Him at whose only word both sun and stars were born ?

If, while around thee gales from Eden breathe,

Thou hide thine eyes, to make thy peevish moan Over some broken reed of earth beneath,

Some darling of blind fancy dead and gone,

As wisely might'st thou in JEHOVAH's fane
Offer thy love and tears to Thammuz slain.

Turn thee from these, or dare not to enquire

Of Him whose name is Jealous, lest in wrath
He hear and answer thine unblest desire:

Far better we should cross his lightning's path
Than be according to our idols heard,
And God should take us at our own vain word.

Thou, who hast deign'd the Christian's heart to call
Thy Church and Shrine; whene'er our rebel will
Would in that chosen home of thine instal

Belial or Mammon, grant us not the ill
We blindly ask; in very love refuse
Whate'er thou know'st our weakness would abuse.

Or rather help us, LORD, to choose the good,

To pray for nought, to seek to none, but Thee, Nor by “our daily bread” mean common food,

Nor say, “ From this world's evil set us free;" Teach us to love, with CHRIST, our sole true bliss, Else, though in CHRIST's own words, we surely pray

amiss.

VOL. II.

LXVIII.

EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER

TRINITY.

I will bring you into the wilderness of the people, and there will I plead with you face to face : like as I pleaded with your fathers in the wilderness of the land of Egypt, so will I plead with you, saith the Lord God. Ezekiel xx, 35, 36.

IT is so-ope thine eyes, and see

What view'st thou all around ?
A desert, where iniquity

And knowledge both abound.

In the waste howling wilderness

The Church is wandering stilla,
Because we would not onward press

When close to Sion's hill.

Back to the world we faithless turn'd,

And far along the wild,

• Revelations xiii. 14.

With labour lost and sorrow earn'd,

Our steps have been beguild.

Yet full before us, all the while,

The shadowing pillar stays, The living waters brightly smile,

Th' eternal turrets blaze.

Yet Heaven is raining angels' bread

To be our daily food, And fresh, as when it first was shed,

Springs forth the SAVIOUR's blood.

From every region, race, and speech,

Believing myriads throng,
Till, far as sin and sorrow reach,

Thy grace is spread along.

Till sweetest nature, brightest art,

Their votive incense bring, And every voice and every heart

Own Thee their God and King.

All own; but few, alas! will love;

Too like the recreant band

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