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Coming unseen, unseen departing thence;
Anew creating all, and yet not heard ;
Compelling, yet not felt: mysterious these ;
Not that Jehovah to conceal them wish'd ;
Not that Religion wish'd. The Christian faith,
Unlike the timorous creeds of Pagan priest,
Was frank, stood forth to view, invited all
To prove, examine, search, investigate,
And gave herself a light to see her by.
Mysterious these-because too large for eye
Of man, too long for human arm to mete.-Pollok.

Hither come, ye poor and wretched;

Know His will

Is to fill
Every hand outstretched :
Here are riches without measure,

Here forget

All regret, Fill your hearts with treasure. Blessed Saviour, let me find Thee !

Keep Thou me

Close to Thee,
Cast me not behind Thee!
Life of life, my heart Thou stillest,

Calm I rest

On Thy breast,
All this void Thou fillest.

496. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol.

Heedfully my Lord I'll cherish,

Live to Thee,

And with Thee
Dying shall not perish ;
But shall dwell with Thee for ever,

Far on high,

In the joy
That can alter never.

Gerhardt, tr. by Miss Winkworth.

All my heart this night rejoices,

As I hear,

Far and near, Sweetest angel voices : 'Christ is born,' their choirs are singing,

Till the air

Everywhere
Now with joy is ringing.
Hark! a voice from yonder manger,

Soft and sweet,

Doth entreat : *Flee from woe and danger; Brethren, come: from all that grieves you

You are freed;

All you need
I will surely give you.'
Come, then, let us hasten yonder;

Here let all,

Great and small,
Kneel in awe and wonder ;
Love Him who with love is yearning;

Hail the Star

That from far
Bright with hope is burning !
Ye who pine in weary sadness,

Weep no more,

For the door
Now is found of gladness.
Cling to Him, for He will guide you

Where no cross,

Pain or loss,
Can again betide you.
Hither come, ye heavy-hearted,

Who for sin,

Deep within,
Long and sore have smarted :
For the poison'd wounds you're feeling

Help is near;

One is here
Mighty for their healing.

497. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol.

To-Day in Bethlehem hear I

Sweet angel voices singing :
All glory be to God on high,

Who peace to earth is bringing.
The Virgin Mary holdeth more

Than highest heaven most holy :
Light shines on what was dark before,

And lifteth up the lowly.

God wills that peace should be in earth,

And holy exultation :
Sweet Babe, I greet Thy spotless birth

And wondrous Incarnation.
To-day in Bethlehem hear I

Even the lowly singing :
With angel-words they pierce the sky;
All earth with joy is ringing.

John of Damascus, tr. by Schaff.

498. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol.

Like silver lamps in a distant shrine,

The stars are sparkling clear and bright; The bells of the city of God ring out,

For the Son of Mary was born to-night; The gloom is past, and the morn at last

Is coming with orient light.

Never fell melodies half so sweet

As those which are filling the skies; And never a palace shone half so fair

As the manger-bed where our Saviour lies; No night in the year is half so dear

As this which has ended our sighs. The stars of heaven still shine as at first

They gleam'd on this wonderful night; The bells of the city of God peal out,

And the angels' song still rings in the height; And love still turns where the Godhead burns,

Veild in the flesh from fleshly sight. Faith sees no longer the stable floor,

The pavement of sapphire is there;
The clear light of heaven streams out to the world,

And angels of God are crowding the air;
And heaven and earth through the spotless birth

Are at peace on this night so fair.-W. C. Dix.

Aye fresh and green His love untold,

He died, but ne'er again shall die. Then bear a joy where joys are not,

Go speak a kindly word in love; Less bitter make some loveless lot,

Now earth is link'd to heaven above;
And day by day, in common round,

Or dark or light, in joy or ill,
Let faith and love and peace be found,

So ever work a Father's will.-W. S. Lee.

501. CHRISTMAS. Hymn for

Come hither, ye faithful ;

Triumphantly sing ;
Come, see in the manger

Our Saviour and King !
To Bethlehem hasten,

With joyful accord !
Oh, come ye, come hither,

To worship the Lord !
True Son of the Father,

He comes from the skies;
To be born of a Virgin

He doth not despise.
To Bethlehem hasten, etc.
Hark, hark to the angels !

All singing in heaven :
"To God in the highest

All glory be given !'
To Bethlehem hasten, etc.

499. CHRISTMAS. Glory of

A DAY, a Day of Glory!

A Day that ends our woe !
A Day that tells of triumph

Against the vanquish'd foe!
Yield, summer's brightest sunrise,

To this December morn :
Lift up your gates, ye Princes,

And let the Child be born!
With ‘Glory in the Highest,'

Archangels tell their mirth :
With ‘Lord, have mercy on us,'

Men answer upon earth :
And Angels swell the triumph,

And mortals raise the horn,
Lift up your gates, ye Princes,

And let the Child be born!
He comes, His throne the manger,

He comes, His shrine the stall;
The ox and ass His courtiers,

Who made and governs all ;
The House of Bread ’His birthplace,

The Prince of Wine and Corn;
Lift up your gates, ye Princes,
And let the Child be born!

Tr. by 7. M. Neale. 500. CHRISTMAS : how to keep it. He came, heaven's glories to unfold,

To bring the captive a release,
For age of iron, an age of gold, -

Emmanuel, the Prince of Peace.
Su chime the bells for weald and wold,

Hang the bright holly up on high;

To Thee, then, O Jesus !

This day of Thy birth, Be glory and honour

Through heaven and earth ! True Godhead Incarnate !

Omnipotent Word ! Oh, come, let us hasten

To worship the Lord !- From the Latin.

502. CHRISTMAS. Return of
The happy Christmas comes once more,
The heavenly Guest is at the door:
The blessed words the shepherds thrill,
The joyous tidings : Peace, good-will !
Oh wake our hearts, in gladness sing !
And keep our Christmas with our King,
Till living song, from loving souls,
Like sound of mighty waters rolls.
O holy Child ! Thy manger streams
Till earth and heaven glow with its beams,
Till midnight noon's broad light has won,
And Jacob's Star outshines the sun.

Thou Patriarchs' joy, Thou Prophets' song,
Thou heavenly Day-spring, look'd for long,
Thou Son of Man, Incarnate Word,
Great David's Son, great David's Lord !
Come, Jesus, glorious, heavenly Guest,
Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast !
Then David's harp-strings, hush'd so long,
Shall swell our Jubilee of song.

Tr. from the Danish by Chas. P. Krauth.

503. CHRISTMAS. Song of

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth

To touch their harps of gold :
*Peace to the earth, good-will to men

From heaven's all-gracious King!'
The world in solemn stillness lay

To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come,

With peaceful wings unfurl'd ;
And still their heavenly music floats

O'er all the weary world : Above its sad and lowly plains

They bend on heavenly wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds

The blessed angels sing.
Yet with the woes of sin and strife

The world has suffer'd long :
Beneath the angel-strain have rollid

Two thousand years of wrong; And men, at war with men, hear not

The love-song which they bring :
Oh! hush the noise, ye men of strife,

And hear the angels sing!
And ye, beneath life's crushing load

Whose forms are bending low ;
Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow,-
Look now! for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh! rest beside the weary road,

And hear the angels sing.
For lo ! the days are hastening on,

By prophet-bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years

Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendours Aling,
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.

Edmund H. Sears.

504. CHRISTMAS. The Christmas Angels. The Christmas angels, is their mission ended ?

They are not seen by mortal eyes, as when O'er Bethlehem's plain their shining troops de

scended, And chanted, 'Peace on earth, good will to men.' The voices that once join'd the heavenly chorus

That mighty ‘Gloria,' echoing far and wide| Are floating in the wintry starlight o'er us,

And singing sweetly every Christmas-tide. Far over snow-clad hills and moorlands dreary

Is heard the rushing of each silver wing; Wherever homes are sad or hearts are weary

The blessed Christmas angels come and sing. In the dim alleys of the crowded city

They enter, where the sunbeams never came;
Unbidden guests, yet full of tender pity

For all earth's bitter misery and shame.
And then despairing hearts look up and wonder

Whence came that sudden hope they feel within, Bidding them rise and break their bonds asunder

Those heavy fetters forged by want and sin. The angels sing of holy aspirations,

Of pure and happy things, of better times ; Until the soul is stirr'd by strange vibrations,

That seem as if they came from Christmas chimes. And new desires, to resolutions growing,

Are slowly shaped and fashion'd into form; Till frozen hearts become all warın and glowing,

And gain fresh strength to battle with the storm.
In the vast minster, where the anthems olden

In glorious waves of music ebb and flow-
Those voices from “Jerusalem the Golden,'

Are singing ever with the Church below.
And in the rustic church that rises lowly

Amid encircling hills or woodlands dim,
The simple song of gratitude is holy,

For angels join the poor man's Christmas hymn.
Those humble walls can boast no sculptured splen-

dour, Yet is the hallelujah just as sweet; For angels and archangels sing, and render

The feeble notes all perfect and complete.
And we of them their gentle tones may borrow,

While this old world is full of grief and wrong;
The word of sympathy in time of sorrow

Is pure and precious as an angel's song.
And loving lips, which faithfully endeavour

To speak their Lord's glad tidings far and nearThe old, old story, that is new for ever| Oh these are breathing heaven's own music here!

510. CHURCH: is to be found everywhere.

Why should we crave a hallow'd spot?
An altar is in each man's cot,
A church in every grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads.-Wordsworth.

505. CHURCH. Conduct in WHEN once thy foot enters the church, be bare. God is more there than thou : for thou art there Only by His permission. Then beware, And make thyself all reverence and fear. Kneeling ne'er spoild silk stockings : quit thy

state,
All equal are within the church's gate.
Let vain or busy thoughts have there no part :
Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleasures thither.
Christ purged His temple, so must thou thy heart.
All worldly thoughts are but thieves met together

To cozen thee. Look to thy actions well :
For churches either are our Heaven or Hell !

George Herbert. 506. CHURCH. Death in the MANY there are and dry,

Spread through the open vale,
Millions of lifeless souls they lie

Within the Christian pale.
I pass the churches through,

The scatter'd bones I see,
And Christendom appears in view

A hideous Calvary !

507. CHURCH: the devil's chapel.

God never had a house of prayer
But Satan had a chapel there. -De Foe.

511. CHURCH. How God is building the WHENCE came of old those goodly stones 'twas

Israel's pride to raise, The glory of the former house, the joy of ancient

days; In purity and strength erect, in radiant splendour

bright, Sparkling with golden beams of noon, or silver

smiles of night? From coasts the stately cedar crowns, each noble slab

was brought, In Lebanon's deep quarries hewn, and on its moun

tains wrought; There rung the hammer's heavy stroke among the

echoing rocks, There chased the chisel's keen, sharp edge, the rude,

unshapen blocks. Thence polish’d, perfected, complete, each fitted to

its place, For lofty coping, massive wall, or deep imbedded

base, They bore them o'er the waves that roll'd their

billowy swell between The shores of Tyre's imperial pride and Judah's

hills of green. With gradual toil the work went on, through days

and months and years, Beneath the summer's laughing sun, and winter's

frozen tears; And thus in majesty sublime and noiseless pomp it

rose, Fit dwelling for the God of Peace ! a temple of

repose ! Brethren in Christ ! to holier things the simple type

apply; Our God Himself a temple builds, eternal and on

high, Of souls elect; their Zion therethat world of light

and bliss ; Their Lebanon — the place of toil — of previous

moulding-this. From nature's quarries, deep and dark, with gracious

aim He hews The stones, the spiritual stones, it pleaseth Him to

choose :

508. CHURCH. A fashionable
Look on this edifice of marble made-
How fair it swells, too beautiful to fade.
See what fine people in its portals crowd,
Smiling and greeting, talking, laughing loud !
What is it? Surely not a gay Exchange,
Where Wit and Beauty social joys arrange;
Not a grand shop, where late Parisian styles
Attract rich buyers from a thousand miles ?
Bat step within : no need of further search ;
Behold, admire a fashionable church !
Look how its oriel window glits and gleams,
Where tinted light magnificently streams
On the proud pulpit, carved with quaint device,
Where velvet cushions, exquisitely nice,
Press'd by the polish'd preacher's dainty hands,
Hold a large volume clasp'd by golden bands.

Park. 509. CHURCH. The first

THE perfect world, by Adam trod,
Was the first Temple-built by God-
His fiat laid the corner-stone,
And heaved its pillars, one by one. - Willis,

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