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Who, while his lips so gently move,

And all his look is purpose strong,

Can say what wonders, wrought above,
Upon his unstained fancy throng?

The world new-framed, the Christ new-born, The Mother-maid, the cross and grave, The rising sun on Easter morn,

The fiery tongues sent down to save,

The gathering Church, the Fount of Life, The saints and mourners kneeling round, The day to end the body's strife,

The Saviour in His people crowned,

All in majestic march and even

To the veil'd eye by turns appear, True to their time as stars in heaven, No morning dream so still and clear.

And this is Faith, and thus she wins

Her victory, day by day rehearsed.

Seal but thine eye to pleasant sins,

Love's glorious world will on thee burst.

10.

LESSONS AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS.

(For St. Luke's Day.)

MOTHER of Christ's children dear,
Teacher true of loving Fear,
Kind Physician, wakeful Nurse,
Went with many a potent verse
By our cradles watch to keep,
Singing new born Saints to sleep;
Be thy tenderest breath to-day
Breathed on all we sing or say,
For to-day that Saint we own,
Who to JESUS' cradle-throne

Led us first, with shepherds mild,

With that mother undefiled,

There to adore the wondrous child.

Spouse of Christ, so pure and bright,
Skill'd by His unearthly light,

In our coarse dim air to trace

Lines and hues from yon high place,

Gathering tones from earth and sky
For His perfect harmony :-

As to-day thou guid'st our thought
Where that holy Painter wrought,
Who with pen and pencil true
Christ's own awful Mother drew;
Be thy prayer untired and strong,
That when eager fancies throng,
Pure may be our dream and song.

Watcher of the eternal ways,
Trusted with the Saints' high praise,

Oft as o'er our childish trance

History bids her visions glance

Wondrous wild in airy measures,
Records grave from Memory's treasures,-
Guide thou well the heart-winning line,

May our love and hate be thine.
He whose tongue of Jesus told

On His Cross and in His Fold,
Third of the mysterious Four,-
Learn we all his sacred lore,
Listening at the Kingdom's door.

10.

UNWEARIED LOVE.

"Jesus saith unto hlm, I say not unto thee, Until seven times; but, Until seventy times seven."

My child, the counsels high attend

Of thine Eternal Friend.

When longings pure, when holy prayers,
When self-denying thoughts and cares
Room in thine heart would win,

Stay not too long to count them o'er ;

Rise in His Name; throw wide the door,

Let the good angels in:

Nor listen, should the Tempter say,
"How wearying, day by day,

To say the prayer we said before,
The mountain path climb o'er and o'er
No end to warfare find!".
Nor seek thou, limit to discern
In patient woe, in duty stern,

But learn thy Mother's mind.

She will not live on thee to wait

In early hour or late:

To-morrow even as yesterday

Still onward, onward in Love's way To speed, her only dream.

So

many love-deeds done, to cease Her kindly toil, and rest in peace, Small joy to her would seem.

And He, the Fountain of her Love,
His treasure-house above

Is open, day and night, with store
Of healing for our daily sore,

With grace to mourners given,
O'er-powering by the tide of tears
All that from old abhorred years
Remains of wasting leaven.

He pardoning wearies not. Ah why Behold with evil eye

Thy brother asking grace for sin ?

He doth but aid thee, more to win

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