The Angel came full early, but Christ had gone be fore, Not for Himself, but for His Saints, is burst the prison door, That penitents who bring Him tears and perfume of good deeds May for His glory school their eyes, watching His funeral weeds. They who have sinn'd, though much they love,—they who have thrice denied, 'Tis meet that they awhile beneath the garb of glory hide A shred of JESUS' grave clothes, such robes as hermits weave ; But Virgin Love needs only to behold, rejoice, believe. Dearest, be thine such portion: yet even so, in still And humble guise draw nigh: such is thy Saviour's will. Stoop lowly o'er His traces dim, and of His Angels learn Where face to face He will be met, and for that greet ing yearn. Easter-Day. 343 Thou know'st He died not for Himself, nor for Him self arose: Millions of souls were in His Heart, and thee for one He chose. Upon the palms of His pierc'd Hands engraven was thy name, He for thy cleansing had prepar'd His water and His flame. Sure thou with Him art risen: and now with Him thou must go forth, And He will lend thy sick soul health, thy strivings, might and worth. Early with Him thou forth must fare, and ready make the way For the descending Paraclete, the third hour of the day. He veil'd His awful footsteps, our all-subduing Lord, Until the Blessed Magdalene beheld Him and ador❜d. But through the veil the Spouse may see, for her heart is as His own, That to His Mother or by sight or touch He made Him known. And even as from His manger bed He gave her His first smile, So now, while Seraphs wait, He talks apart with her awhile; That thou of all the forms, which to thee His image wear, Might'st own thy parents first, with thy prime of loving care. And when that first spring-flower of love is gather'd, be thou seen Full soon with mourning Peter, and bereaved Mag dalene, And meet with looks of soothing cheer the women on their way To find the Lord, nor from beside his musing comrades stray. To Emmaus see thou lose not the narrow path; for there With open face He tarries, to give thee Angels' fare. Where all His Saints assemble, make haste ere twilight cease, His Easter blessing to receive, and so lie down in peace. Holy Seasons and Days. 345 9. WHITSUN EVE. "O my Dove, that art in the clefts of the Rock,....let me hear thy voice." WELL fare the Sage, whose dreams of old Would every cradle fain enfold In evening clouds of softest sound, Such as in inmost soul they crave, Who, when the battles of the Lord are fought, Shrink from their own frail hearts, else fearing nought. One of the attendant Spirits kind, Such strains have I desired erewhile, Might to another The dimly eyed and narrow-souled! He longs for music in the morn, Nor heeds the lark's unwearied horn. He finds at eve no soothing lullaby, Though west winds stir, and whispering pines are nigh." O heavenly Wisdom, strong and sweet, |