7.

ABSOLUTION

"Whose sins ye forgive, they are forgiven.'

LIVE ever in my heart, sweet awful hour,
When prostrate in my sin and shame I lay,
And heard the absolving accents fall with power,
As soft, as keen, as lambent lightning's play.

And sure with lightning glance they seem'd to thrill, (O may the dream prove true!) and search and burn Each foul dark corner of my lawless will,

What if the Spirit griev'd did then return ?

O fear, O joy to think! and what if yet,
In some far moment of eternity,

The love of evil I may quite forget,

And with the pure in heart my portion be!

Live in my heart, dread blissful hope, to tame
The haughty brow, to curb the unchastened eye,
And shape to deeds of good each wavering aim;
O teach me some true penance ere I die!

8.

HOURS OF PRAYER.

"Evening, and morning, and at noonday will I pray."

Down, slothful heart! how darest thou say,
"Call not so oft to pray?"

Behold, the Lord's own bounteous showers
Keep their appointed hours.

The forenoon saw the Spirit first
On orphan'd Saints in glory burst;

At noontide hour Saint Peter saw

The sheet let down, heavenward all earth to draw; At eventide, when good Cornelius kneel'd

Upon his fasting day, an angel shone revealed.

Untired is He in mercy's task,

Then tire not thou to ask.

He says not, "Yesterday I gave,
Wilt thou for ever crave ?"

He every moment waits to give,

Watch thou unwearied to receive.

Thine Hours of Prayer, upon the Cross

To Him were hours of woe and shame and loss; Scourging at morn; at noon, pierced hands and feet;

At eve, fierce pains of death, for thee He counted

sweet.

The blue sky o'er the green earth bends,
All night the dew descends:

The green earth to the blue heaven's ray
Its bosom spreads all day,

Earth answers heaven-the holy race
Should answer His unfailing grace.

Then smile, low world, in spite or scorn,

We to our God will kneel ere prime of morn;

The third, the sixth, the ninth-each Passion hour,

We with high praise will keep, as He with gifts of

power.

9.

REPEATING THE CREED.

"Whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."

MANY the banners bright and fair,
Uplifted in the gleaming sky,

When Faith would show this lower air

The token of her victory.

The heaven-enlightened eye and mind,
By meek confession purified,

Gazes on high, nor fails to find

Which way the signs celestial guide.

One bodies forth a virgin Form,

Holding aloft a cross of might,

And watching, how through cloud and storm
Its head is lost in deepening light.

Another dreams, by night and day,
Of a calm Prophet's voice, intent
To hear what God the Lord shall say,

Ere the dread tones be gone and spent.

An Eagle from the deep of space

Is hovering near, and hastes to bring (Meetest the unearthly tale to trace,) A plume of his mysterious wing.

A golden Chalice standing by

What mantles there is life or death;
A Dragon to the unpurged eye,
A Serpent from the Cross, to Faith.

O visions dread and bright, I feel

You are too high for me, I seek

A lowlier impress for my seal,

More of this earth, though pure and meek.

Give me a tender spotless child,

Rehearsing or at eve or morn

His chant of glory undefiled,

The Creed that with the Church was born.

Down be his earnest forehead cast,

His slender fingers joined for prayer, With half a frown his eye sealed fast

Against the world's intruding glare.