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For CHRIST the WORD, bestowing

His blessed peace on men,
In Faith's most holy union
Hath knit His Church again.

The GOD of vengeance rises :
And CHRIST attacks the foe,
And makes His servants mighty
The wicked to o'erthrow :
And now Thy condescension.
In boldness may we hymn,
And now in peace and safety
Thy sacred Image limn.

O LORD of loving kindness,
How wondrous are Thy ways!

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Because of Thy dear Image

Men dared Thy Saints to kill, Yet didst Thou not consume them, But bear'st their insults still.

Thou Who hast fixed unshaken
Thy Church's mighty frame,
So that hell-gates shall never
Prevail against the same ;-
Bestow upon Thy people

Thy peace, that we may bring One voice, one hymn, one spirit, To glorify our King!

S. Methodius I.

A.D. 836.

Sent as

S. Methodius I., a native of Syracuse, embraced the monastic life at Constantinople. legate from Pope Paschal to Michael the Stammerer, he was imprisoned by that prince in a close cell, and there passed nine years, on account of his resolute defence of Icons. Having been scourged for the same cause, by the Emperor Theophilus, he made his escape from prison; and when peace was restored to the Church was raised to the throne of Constantinople. His first care was to assemble a Synod for the restoration of Icons; and it is, properly speaking, that Synod

which the Greeks celebrate on Orthodoxy Sunday. With this Council the Iconoclast troubles ceased. S. Methodius died November 4th, 846. His compositions are very few, and are chiefly confined to Idiomela.

εἰ καὶ τὰ παρόντα.

Are thy toils and woes increasing?
Are the Foe's attacks unceasing?
Look with Faith unclouded,

Gaze with eyes unshrouded,
On the Cross !

Dost thou fear that strictest trial?

Tremblest thou at CHRIST's denial?

Never rest without it,

Clasp thine hands about it,

-That dear Cross!

Diabolic legions press thee?

Thoughts and works of sin distress thee?

It shall chase all terror,

It shall right all error,

That sweet Cross!

Draw'st thou nigh to Jordan's river?

Should'st thou tremble?

quiver?

Need'st thou

No! if by it lying,—

No! if on it dying,—

On the Cross !

Say then," Master, while I cherish

That sweet hope, I cannot perish!

After this life's story,

Give Thou me the glory

For the Cross !"

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