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What echoes from the sacred dome
The selfish spirit may o'ercome
That will not hear of love or home?

The heart that scorn'd a father's care,
How can it rise in filial prayer ?
How an all-seeing Guardian bear?

Or how shall envious brethren own
A Brother on th' eternal throne,
Their Father's joy, their hope alone ?

How shall thy Spirit's gracious wile The sullen brow of gloom beguile, That frowns on sweet affection's smile ?

Eternal One, Almighty Trine ! (Since Thou art ours, and we are Thine) By all thy love did once resign,

By all the grace thy heavens still hide, We pray thee, keep us at thy side, Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide!

FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

So Joshua smote all the country, and all their kings; he left none remaining. Joshua x. 40.

WHERE is the land with milk and honey flowing,

The promise of our God, our fancy's theme? Here over shatter'd walls dank weeds are growing, And blood and fire have run in mingled stream;

Like oaks and cedars all around

The giant corses strew the ground, And haughty Jericho's cloud-piercing wall Lies where it sank at Joshua's trumpet call.

These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even,

For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades,
Soft slumbers in the open eye of heaven,
And all the listless joy of summer shades.

We in the midst of ruins live,
Which every hour dread warning give,

Nor may our household vine or figtree hide
The broken arches of old Canaan's pride.

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Where is the sweet repose of hearts repenting,

The deep calm sky, the sunshine of the soul, Now heaven and earth are to our bliss consenting, And all the Godhead joins to make us whole ?

The triple crown of mercy now

Is ready for the suppliant's brow,
By the Almighty Three for ever plann'd,
And from behind the cloud held out by Jesus' hand.

“Now, Christians, hold your own the land before ye

“ Is open-win your way, and take your rest.” So sounds our war-note; but our path of glory By many a cloud is darken'd and unblest :

And daily as we downward glide,

Life's ebbing stream on either side
Shews at each turn some mouldering hope or joy,
The Man seems following still the funeral of the Boy.

Open our eyes, thou Sun of life and gladness,

That we may see that glorious world of thine !
It shines for us in vain, while drooping sadness

Enfolds us here like mist: come Power benign,

Touch our chill'd hearts with vernal smile,

Our wintry course do Thou beguile, Nor by the wayside ruins let us mourn, Who have th' eternal towers for our appointed bourne.

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. 1 St. John iii. 13.

THE clouds that wrap the setting sun

When Autumn's softest gleams are ending,
Where all bright hues together run

In sweet confusion blending :-
Why, as we watch their floating wreath,
Seem they the breath of life to breathe ?
To Fancy's eye their motions prove
They mantle round the Sun for love.

When up some woodland dale we catch

The many twinkling smile of ocean,

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ποντίων σε κυμάτων ανάριθμον γέλασμα. .

Æschyl. Prom. 89.

Or with pleas'd ear bewilder'd watch

His chime of restless motion ;
Still as the surging waves retire
They seem to gasp with strong desire,
Such signs of love old Ocean gives,
We cannot choose but think he lives.

Wouldst thou the life of souls discern?

Nor human wisdom nor divine
Helps thee by aught beside to learn ;

Love is life's only sign.
The spring of the regenerate heart,
The pulse, the glow of every part,
Is the true love of Christ our Lord,
As man embrac'd, as God ador'd.

But he, whose heart will bound to mark

The full bright burst of summer morn, Loves too each little dewy spark

By leaf or flow'ret worn: Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis true, Through the bright shower-drop meet his view; The colouring may be of this earth; The lustre comes of heavenly birth.

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