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“He shall give His Angels charge concerning thee.”
“ TELL me now thy morning dream.”
“In the flowery sweet spring-tide I beheld a sparkling stream,
Where by thousands Angels glide ;
Far within the unearthly Fount
Showed the pure Heaven's steadfast rays, Stars beyond what eye can count
Deepening on the unwearied gaze.
Round the margin breath'd and bloom'd
Flowers from Eden : far below Gems from Heaven the sides illum'd :
But nor flower nor gem might show Half so fair as your soft charms, Who in your own Seraphs' arms Here are wafted, in pure vest Rob'd, and wash'd, and seal'd, and bless'd.
There one moment lay immers'd
Each bright form, and ere it rose,
From where golden morning glows,
In a moment came that ray,
Came but went not: every sprite, Through its veil of mortal clay,
Now is drench'd in quickening light ;
Light wherewith the Seraphs burn,
Through the pure Heavens now at large
See the immortal guardians soar, Joying to behold their charge
Purg'd, wing’d, brighten’d more and more, As the strong undying spark Buoys them upward to God's Ark, To the Throne where all repair With the first fruits of their care.
Ne’er with smile so glad and kind
Welcom'd God's High Priest of old
Offering gifts from field and fold,
As in that entrancing dream,
On my sleep-embolden'd eyes, From the shrine, the approving beam
Thrill’d, as each new sacrifice, Each new living ray, each soul Borne beyond where shadows roll, With its faithful Watcher, found Place in the eternal round.”
O sweet morning dream, I pray,
Pass not with the matin hour ; Charm me :-heart and tongue allay,
Thoughts that ache and eyes that lower. From the Fountain to the Shrine Bear me on, thou trance divine ; Faint not, fade not on my view, Till I wake and find thee true.
“That which ye have already, hold fast till I come.'
O HAPPY new-born babe, where art thou lying ?
What are these sounds that fill with healing balm The hallow'd air, of power to still thy crying
At once, and nurse thee into heavenly calm ?
His Bosom bears me, who on earth descended,
Of a poor Maid vouchsafing to be born. His saving words, with holy water blended,
Have brought the glory to my prime of morn."
Joy to thy nurse, more joy to her who bare thee,
Lamb of that Shepherd's flock, whose name is Good : As He hath won, for ever may He wear thee,
And keep thee purified with His dear blood !
" Amen : and therefore am I sworn His servant,
His sacred Heart through life to be my rest, To watch His eye with adoration fervent,
Foe of His foes, and in His white robe drest."