The Seraph throwing off his Disguise.

WILD sparkling rage inflamed the Father's eyes,

He bursts the bonds of fear, and madly cries,
"Detested wretch !"-but scarce his speech began,
When the strange partner seemed no longer man.
His youthful face grew more serenely sweet,
His robe turned white, and flowed upon his feet;
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair,
Celestial odors fill the empurpled air:

While wings, whose colors glittered on the day,
Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.
The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,
And moves in all the majesty of light!

THOMAS PARNELL.

Christus Consolator.

Σὺν Χριστῷπολλῷ μᾶλλον κρεϊσσον.

H

OPE of those that have none other,

Left for life by father, mother,

All their dearest lost or taken,

Only not by thee forsaken;

Comfort thou the sad and lonely,

Saviour dear, for thou canst only.

When the glooms of night are o'er us,
Satan in his strength before us:
When despair, and doubt, and terror
Drag the blinded heart to error,
Comfort thou the poor and lonely,

Saviour dear, for thou canst only.

"HOW AMIABLE ARE THY TABERNACLES." 341

By thy days of earthly trial,
By thy friend's foreknown denial,
By thy cross of bitter anguish,
Leave not thou thy lambs to languish;
Comforting the weak and lonely,
Lead them in thy pastures only.

Sick with hope deferred, or yearning
For the never-now-returning,

When the glooms of grief o'ershade us,
Thou hast known, and thou wilt aid us!
To thine own heart take the lonely,

Leaning on thee only, only.

Happy souls! their praises flow

Even in this vale of woe:
Waters in the desert rise,

Manna feeds them from the skies:
On they go from strength to strength,
Till they reach Thy throne at length,
At Thy feet adoring fall,

Who hast led them safe through all.

Lord, be mine this praise to win!
Guide me through a world of sin :
Keep me by Thy saving grace;
Give me at Thy side a place;
Sun and Shield alike Thou art;
Guide and guard my erring heart!
Grace and glory flow from Thee:
Shower, O shower them, Lord, on me!

HENRY F. LYTE

The Heart's Song.

N the silent midnight watches,

List-thy bosom-door!

How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh,
Knocketh evermore !

Say not 't is thy pulse's beating;
'Tis thy heart of sin-

'Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth: Rise, and let me in!

Death comes down with reckless footstep
To the hall and hut,

Think you Death will stand a-knocking
Where the door is shut?

CHRIST'S CALL TO THE SOUL.

343

Jesus waiteth, waiteth, waiteth,

But thy door is fast!
Grieved, away the Saviour goeth:
Death breaks in at last.

Then 't is thine to stand entreating
Christ to let thee in:

At the gate of heaven beating,
Wailing for thy sin.

Nay, alas! thou foolish virgin,
Hast thou then forgot?

Jesus waited long to know thee,—
But he knows thee not!

ARTHUR C. COXE.

Christ's Call to the Soul.

FAIR soul, created in the primal hour,

Once pure and grand,

And for whose sake I left my throne and power

At God's right hand,

By this sad heart pierced through because I love thee, Let love and mercy to contrition move thee!

Cast off the sins thy holy beauty veiling,
Spirit divine!

Vain against thee the host of hell assailing;
My strength is thine!

Drink from my side the cup of life immortal,

And love will lead thee back to heaven's portal !

I for thy sake was pierced with many sorrows,
And bore the cross,

Yet heeded not the galling of the arrows,
The shame and loss;

So faint not thou, whate'er the burden be:
But bear it bravely ev'n to Calvary!

(Anonymous Translation.)

SAVONAROLA.

Consolation.

PILGRIM burdened with thy sin,

Come the way to Zion's gate,

There, till mercy lets thee in,

Knock, and weep, and watch, and wait.
Knock !-He knows the sinner's cry;
Weep! He loves the mourner's tears;
Watch!--for saving grace is nigh;
Wait-till heavenly light appears.

Hark! it is the Bridegroom's voice:
Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest
Now within the gate rejoice,

Safe, and sealed, and bought, and blest.

Safe-from all the lures of vice,

Sealed-by signs the chosen know,

Bought by love, and life the price,
Blest-the mighty debt to owe.

Holy pilgrim! what for thee

In a world like this remain ?
From thy guarded breast shall flee

Fear, and shame, and doubt, and pain.
Fear-the hope of heaven shall fly,
Shame-from glory's view retire,

Doubt-in certain rapture die,

Pain-in endless bliss expire.

CRABBE.