By all thy dower of lights and fires; By thy large draughts of intellectual day; By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire; By the full kingdom of that final kiss That seized thy parting soul, and sealed thee His; By all the heaven thou hast in Him (Fair sister of the seraphim); By all of Him we have in thee, TWO WENT UP INTO THE TEMPLE TO PRAY. TWO went to pray? O rather say One went to brag, the other to pray: One stands up close and treads on high, One nearer to God's altar trod, HENRY VAUGHAN. (1621-1695). The Works of Henry Vaughan, "Silurist", fill four volumes of the Fuller Worthies Library, edited by Dr. A. B. Grosart, 1871; they also appear in the Muses' Library, edited by Mr. E. K. Chambers, 1896. His Sacred Poems have been reprinted also in the Aldine Poets, 1847, edited by the Rev. H. F. Lyte, and his Secular Poems have been edited by Mr. J. R. Tutin, Hull, 1893. The first three selections are found in Silex Scintillans, 1650; the next in Part II. of the same title, 1655; and the last from Thalia Rediviva, 1678. THE RETREAT. [APPY those early days, when I HAPPY Shined in my angel-infancy! Before I understood this place Before I taught my tongue to wound From whence the enlightened spirit sees But ah! my soul with too much stay THE WORLD. I SAW Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright; And round beneath it Time in hours, days, years, Driven by the spheres Like a vast shadow moved; in which the world And all her train were hurled. Y PEACE. My soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars; There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend, And, O my soul awake! Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake, There grows the flower of peace, THEY The rose that cannot wither, For none can thee secure, BEYOND THE VEIL. HEY are all gone into the world of light! Their very memory is fair and bright, It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days: O holy Hope! and high Humility, High as the heavens above! These are your walks, and you have showed them me, To kindle my cold love. Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just, Shining no where, but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust; Could man outlook that mark! He that hath found some fledged bird's nest, may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet as angels in some brighter dreams So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, If a star were confined into a tomb, The captive flames must needs burn there; O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee! Resume Thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty. Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill THE CHOSEN PATH. WELCOME, pure thoughts and peaceful hours, Enriched with sunshine and with showers! Welcome fair hopes and holy cares, The not-to-be-repented shares Of time and business; the sure road The circle, centre, and abyss Nor leave that path, which leads to Thee, I hear, I see, all the long day, The noise and pomp of the 'broad way'; |