And they who, with their Leader, Have conquer'd in the fight, For ever and for ever Jerusalem the glorious, That look'st from heaven below, In thee is all my glory, And though my body may not, My spirit seeks thee fain, Till flesh and earth return me O none can tell thy bulwarks, O none can tell thy capitals O fields that know no sorrow! O state that fears no strife! O princely bowers! O land of flowers! Jerusalem, exulting, On that securest shore, I hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, I ask not, for my merit ; A child of wrath am I. Exult, O dust and ashes, The Lord shall be thy part: His only, His for ever, Thou shalt be, and thou art. Neale (from the Latin). EVENING HYMN OF THE GREEKS. 风风 HE day is past and over; All thanks, O Lord, to Thee! I pray Thee that offenceless The hours of dark may be. O Jesu, keep me in Thy sight, And save me through the coming night! The toils of day are over: I raise the hymn to Thee; And ask that free from peril The hours of dark may be. O Jesu, keep me in Thy sight, And guard me through the coming night! Lighten mine eyes, O Saviour, Or sleep in death shall I; "He could not make their darkness light, Nor guard them through the hours of night!" Be Thou my soul's preserver, O God, for Thou dost know Through which I have to go: And guard and save me from them all! Neale (from Anatolius). 66 IT IS I BE NOT AFRAID." IERCE was the wild billow; dark was the night; Oars labour'd heavily; foam glimmer'd white; Trembled the mariners; peril was nigh; Then said the Son of God, "Peace! it is I !" Ridge of the mountain-wave, lower thy crest! Wail of Euroclydon, be thou at rest! Peril can never be,-sorrow must fly,— Where saith the Light of Light, "Peace! it is I!" Jesus, deliverer! come Thou to me: Soothe Thou my voyaging over Life's seaꞌ Thou, when the storm of Death roars, sweeping by, Whisper, O Truth of Truth! "Peace! it is I!" Neale (from Anatolius). COME UNTO ME, ALL YE THAT LABOUR AND RT thou weary? art thou languid? Art thou sore distrest? "Come to Me," saith One, "and coming, Be at rest!" Hath He marks to lead me to Him, If He be my Guide? "In His feet and hands are wound-prints, And His side." Is there diadem, as monarch, That His brow adorns? "Yea, a crown in very surety, If I find Him, if I follow, But of thorns!" What His guerdon here? Many a sorrow, many a labour, Many a tear." |