Holy Places and Things. 273 8. RELICS AND MEMORIALS. "As the shadow of a great Rock in a weary land.” THE Twelve holy men are gathered in prayer, A keen silent thrilling is round them in air, A Power from the Highest with thought and word blends. They pass by the way, to sight poor and mean. How glorious the train that streams to and fro ! The blind, dumb, halt, withered, by hundreds are seen, The prisoners of Satan lie chained where they go. O lay them but where the shadow may fall T Or bring where they lie Paul's girdle or vest: Christ is in His Saints: from Godhead made Man See Acts iv. and v. Holy Places and Things. 275 9. CARVED ANGELS. "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones: for in Heaven their angels do always behold the Face of My Father." GREATEST art Thou in least, O Lord, And even Thy least are great in Thee : A mote in air, a random word, Shall save a soul if Thou decree : Much more their presence sweet, Whom with an oath Thou didst into thy Kingdom greet. A little child's soft sleeping face The murderer's knife ere now hath staid : The adulterous eye, so foul and base, Is of a little child afraid. They cannot choose but fear, Since in that sign they feel God and good Angels near. For by the Truth's sure oath we know, One of the everlasting Thrones, Who in high Heaven His face Beholding ever, best His likeness here may trace. As in each tiny drop of dew, Glistening at prime of morn, they mark Of Heaven's great Sun an image true, Hear their own chantings in the Lark, So, sleeping or awake, They love to tend their babes for holy Bethlehem's sake. And so this whole fallen world of ours, To us all care, and sin, and spite, Is even as Eden's stainless bowers To the pure spirits out of sight,— To Angels from above, And souls of infants, sealed by new-creating Love. Carved Angels. Heaven in the depth and height is seen; Is earth, and tastes of earth: even so To strongest seraphs there, to weakest infants here. 277 And both are robed in white, and both On evil look unharmed, and wear A ray so pure, ill Powers are loth To linger in the keen bright air. As Angels wait in joy On Saints, so on the old the duteous-hearted boy. God's Angels keep the eternal round They boast not to be free, They grudge not to their Lord meek ear and bended knee. |