148 THE AWAKENING OF THE SPIRIT. The stifling weight Of guilt would press her deadly towards earth, Giving sad dreams Hove in its birth; Of death and darkness for the energies Of light and virtue, and the sunny gleams SPIRIT, AWAKE! The night is now far spent-the day at hand; From thy clogged form the sluggish fever shake, Let Love expand Thy shatter'd wings, Cast off those dreams of darkness; for the Sun Be fearless now; The way is certain, for thy path is bright; The world no more By her thick shadows shall thy light obscure, Thy course shall be To vanquish, and subdue, and conquer still The strong right arm From guilt and ill. Of God shall make thee every way secure, And through all human tempests, bear thee calm, And safe, and sure: Thou art his child, And he shall bear thee up, and thou shalt shine Glory of Glory, full Of Love, shall there embrace thee, and restore Then, slumbering soul, To fade no more. From this dark sepulchre of Death AWAKE, "Tis Christ-the Lord, Who calls his chosen kindly to his breast To shield and guard them-feed them with his word, And give them rest. W. MARTIN. MELODY. "The desire of such as be sorrowful." To live with God-its life-for ever. But in some purer, brighter sky. Whence come they?-from our Father-land The joys of brighter worlds expand, To cheer us through our grief and pain; The yearnings of a Father there, Responding to our faith and prayer, Call us to be his own again. W. MARTIN. COMFORT IN SORROW. 'Tis through the rainbow of our tears The deepest glooms of night reveal The stars that sunshine veils in light, Then let us bear our night of sorrow W. MARTIN. LIFE. "Deliver us from Evil." LIFE is a fearful thing! From vague and unreal nothingness we come, Hither and thither fluttering to and fro, The deep-mouth'd thunders o'er us bay and growl, Of headlong passions, and dark thoughts arise Mercy from goodness, and the blaze intense Life is the path of Death; Upon the face. Hung black with sorrows, turmoils, woes, and cares; Beset with pitfalls, quagmires, gins, and snares, Teeming with syren forms which smile and kiss; Yet these seem more than beautiful, and lure Our love for Him Who in high glory and perfection made And thus we grovel on without a guide, Deliver us, O Lord, From this dread gulf of evil-light our path Open our eyes unto that perfect day, That we may see the Truth and know the Way; Of thy good Spirit, and of Faith the shield, Hurl from his throne. And discords of this nether world, no loss, W. MARTIN. THY KINGDOM COME. THY Kingdom come- -and it shall come Now Wrong assails, and Strength prevails, |