All the words unheedingly Fell from lips untouch'd by care, Dreaming not that they might be On some other lips a prayer'Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee.' 'Rock of Ages, cleft for me' 'Twas a woman sung them now, Sung them slow and wearily Wan hand on her aching brow. Rose the song as storm-toss'd bird Beats with weary wing the air, Every note with sorrow stirr'd— Every syllable a prayerRock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee.' 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me' Lips grown aged sang the hymn Trustingly and tenderly― Voice grown weak and eyes grown dim— 'Let me hide myself in Thee.' Trembling through the voice and low, Ran the sweet strain peacefully, Like a river in its flow. Sung as only they can sing Who life's thorny paths have press'd; Sung as only they can sing Who behold the promised rest'Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee.' Rock of Ages, cleft for me,' All life's joys and sorrows hid, 3012. ROCK OF AGES. The THE sea is flashing its silver light, And fiercely its surface gleams; There is not a cloud in the wide blue sky To temper its burning beams. But cool in the shadow the great Rock throws I sit through the scorching day, While the white rocks glitter, and ships go by, And the glad waves tireless play. And I think of One who has thrown for me, A great Rock's shadow where I might rest, But happy, and safe, and calm, Through the smiting heat I could sit and sing The words of a thankful psalm. The sea was angry and rough one day, I saw the wreck of a ship that sank, But I was safe on the mighty Rock, So the Rock of Ages has been to me A refuge and safe retreat, A hiding-place from the storms of life, But happy and safe are they Who are hidden away in the great Rock's cleft In the dangerous stormy day. The winds were armies of conquering foes Smiting the trembling trees, And over the hills in their might they came Lashing the foaming seas. But I clung to the Rock till the wild hour pass'd, For nothing could harm me there; The rocks are firm in the tempest times, As well as in balmy air. And I said, I will cling to my Rock of strength, I am safe, and happy, and calm, and free, From the might of the creeping waves, 3013. RUMOUR. RUMOUR is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, And of so easy and so plain a stop, That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The flying rumours gather'd as they roll'd; Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told, In heavenly flowers unfolding week by week; The next world's gladness imaged forth in this; Days of whose worth the Christian's heart can speak! Eternity on time, the steps by which We climb to future ages, lamps that light Days fix'd by God for intercourse with dust, A gleam of glory after six days' showers! A milky-way mark'd out through skies else drear, Though briers and thorns around his pathway twine. Foretastes of heaven on earth; pledges of joy And the bright out-courts of immortal glory! 3015. SABBATH. Import of the HAIL to the day, which He, who made the heaven, Earth, and their armies, sanctified and blest, Perpetual memory of the Maker's rest! Hail to the day, when He, by whom was given New life to man, the tomb asunder riven, Arose! That day His Church doth still confess, At once Creation's and Redemption's feast, Sign of a world call'd forth, a world forgiven. Welcome that day, the day of holy peace, The Lord's own day! to man's Creator owed, And man's Redeemer; for the soul's increase In sanctity, and sweet repose bestow'd; Type of the rest when sin and care shall cease, The rest remaining for the loved of God !--Mant. 3016. SABBATH: its preciousness to the poor. HAIL, Holy Day! the blessing from above Brightens thy presence like a smile of love, Smoothing, like oil upon a stormy sea, Mrs Hele. But, chiefly, man the day of rest enjoys. Both seat and board-screen'd from the winter's cold Grahame 3017. SABBATH: its preciousness to the poor. THE merry birds are singing, We meet to praise and pray We thank Thee, Lord, for one day The sweeter is the grace. That sings their week away. A tender fall of rain, With smiling flowers is gay; 'Tis here the weary pilgrim Doth reach his house of ease; Take heart, ye faint and fearful, Shall shine in glory there; The tears are wiped away; An endless Sabbath-day! Ah! there are empty places, Since last we mingled here! There will be missing faces When we meet another year! Now all together pray That we may meet in heaven, to spend 3018. SABBATH. Observance of the Now let us repose from our care and our sorrow, Let us say to the world, should it tempt us to wander, And tarry you here till I seek you again. When on and on, in ceaseless course, Amid the wilderness Of waters-then it comes like dove 3020. SABBATH. Rest of the FRESH glides the brook and blows the gale, How motionless and still! Six days of toil, poor child of Cain, Ah, tender was the Law that gave This holy respite to the breast, Invites thee to the skies. To teach the soul its nobler worth O Dives, from thy banquet-hall; 3021. SABBATH. Stillness of the WITH silent awe I hail the sacred morn, That scarcely wakes while all the fields are still; To-day on that mount we would seek for Thy bless- A soothing calm on every breeze is borne, O Spirit of Holiness, meet with us there; 3019. SABBATH: on the sea. OH! welcome to the wearied Earth The Sabbath resting comes, Back to their peaceful homes; Opens the House of God, Where all who seek may come and learn The way the Saviour trod. But holier to the wanderer seems The Sabbath on the deep, A graver murmur echoes from the hill, The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. Have hush'd their drowsy wings in dead repose. How still the morning of the hallow'd day! Calmness seems throned on yon unmoving hill. THE highest glory is not where, 'Mid crimson clouds, the fight is won; 'Tis to reclaim the erring son, Long used the sinful yoke to bear. Better to clothe with corn the wild Than track the fire-path of a star; Less the proud sons of science are Than clown who saves a drowning child. Through death the world is raised above The wheaten corn which falls and dies, The highest benedictions hide If done for Christ, in Him abide.—Punshon, 3025. SAFETY. PLACE me on some desert shore 'My mind to me a kingdom is.'-Tupper. 3026. SAILOR. The Christian LAUNCH thy bark, mariner! Christian, Heaven speed thee! Let loose the rudderbands! good angels lead thee! What of the night, watchman? what of the night? Crowd all thy canvas on, cut through the foam, 3027. SAINT: a name of honour. And confidently take my stand, Would, though it were in scorn applied, In mockery to the King of Heaven. A saint! and what imports the name How shall the name of saint be prized, 3028. SAINTS. Communion of FROM saint to saint the world around Celestial odours are diffused; Marriott. Sweet thoughts are born on hallow'd ground, Where holy men have mused. And none can tell how many springs Flow to sustain one soul serene; But every hour some tribute brings The loneliest pilgrim in the ways We dwell with shadows round us here, How many shall we know and love! Yet, as we learn the mystery, Around One holy fount we fall, And, in the light eternal, see That God is all in all.-Gostick. 3029. SAINTS. Our Tis not alone from legend and old story, 'Tis not alone from canvas, dark with time, That holy saints, crown'd with celestial glory, Smile down upon us, from their height sublime. Not only from church windows, colour'd brightly, Do their bless'd shadows fall across our way; Ah, not alone in niches gleaming whitely, With folded hands, do they stand night and day. Who is there in this world who has not, hidden Deep in his heart, a picture, clear or faint, Veil'd, sacred, to the outer world forbidden, O'er which he bends and murmurs low, 'My saint.' A face, perhaps, all written o'er with sorrow, A face whence all the sunshine of the morning That perfect day - when, crown'd with heaven's brightness, Without a pain, or care, or mortal need, With conqueror's palm, in robe of snowy whiteness, Our bless'd shall stand, as very saints indeed. Yes, God be thank'd! though the pure saints of story, And holy martyrs that the artist paints, Are veil'd in radiance and crown'd with glory, There still are halos for these unknown saints. A. R. M. 2030. SAINTS. Our I SEE them with their heavenward eyes, Men who in Christ abide ; The long train ceases not to rise Though time's unceasing tide, Like a chorus which no discords mar, And covering all the land, They sound, they pass; each man beholds The Master's risen face, Each arm some near beloved enfolds, Yet keeps its forward place; Up, through the darkness and the pain, Life shows them nothing to detain, Death, nothing to affright. By all things fair their course is graced, Who, being challenged, yield, |