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3582. WORLD: neither to be feared nor loved.
A Pilgrim through this lonely world,
The blessed Saviour pass'd;
A dying Lamb at last.
For all its life-blood gave;
Save only in the grave.
Such was our Lord, -and shall we fear
The cross, with all its scorn ? Or love a faithless, evil world,
That wreath'd His brow with thorn?
3585. WORLD. Quitting the I HAVE not loved the world, nor the world me
But let us part fair foes : I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may be Words which are things, hopes which will not de
ceive, And virtues which are merciful, nor weave Snares for the failing : I would also deem
O’er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; That two, or one, are almost what they seem, That goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.
Byron, Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home:
Thou'rt not my friend, and I'm not thine.
A river-ark on the ocean's brine,
No! facing all its frowns or smiles,
Like Him obedient still, We homeward press through storm or calm,
To Zion's blessed hill. — Denny.
3583. WORLD. Power of the Whence has this world her magic power ?
Why deem we death a foe, Recoil from weary life's best hour,
And covet longer woe?
Her tale of guilt renews;
And dread of death ensues.
Man mourns his flying breath :
With the approach of death. The judgment shakes him ! there's the fear
That prompts the wish to stay!
And must despair to pay.
His death your peace ensures ;
And calm descend to yours.-Cowper,
I'm going to my own hearth-stone,
Oh, when I am safe in my sylvan home,
Emerson 3586. WORLD. Sale of the
3584. WORLD. Question about the
What is the world ? tell, worldling, if thou know it. If it be good, why do all ills o'erflow it?
If it be bad, why dost thou like it so?
If it be friend, why kills it, as a foe,
The world for sale! Hang out the sign;
Call every traveller here to me; Who'll buy this brave estate of mine,
And set this weaty spirit free? 'Tis going ! yes, I mean to fling
The bauble from my soul away, I'll sell it, whatsoe'er it bring;
The world at auction here, to-day!
ved me sore,
I must sell!
But let me tell you fair,
Il buy himself a burial-place?
All over's the enchanter's reign. Who'll buy the plumeless, dying dove,
A breath of bliss, a storm of pain ? And Friendship, rarest gem of earth;
Who e'er hath found the jewel his? Frail, fickle, false, and little worth,
Who bids for Friendship-as it is? 'Tis going! going ! hear the call ;
Once, twice, and thrice, 'tis very low ! 'Twas once my hope, my stay, my all,
But now the broken staff must go ! Fame ! hold the brilliant meteor high,
How dazzling every gilded name! Ye millions ! now's the time to buy.
How much for Fame? how much for Fame? Hear how it thunders! Would you stand
On high Olympus, far renown'd, Now purchase, and a world command,
And be with a world's curses crown'd. Ambition, fashion, show, and pride,
I part from all for ever now; Grief, in an overwhelming tide,
Has taught my haughty heart to bow. By Death, stern sheriff ! all bereft,
I weep, yet humbly kiss the rod; The best of all I still have left-
My faith, my Bible, and my God!-Hoyt.
And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.
Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety :
But through the night, a beast she grins at me,
In all the naked horror of the truth,
My soul to her, give her my life and youth, Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell ?
Christina G. Rosetti. 3587a. WORLD: transient.
The flower that smiles to-day,
Tempts, and then flies :
Brief even as bright.-Shelley.
To buy their peace you sell your own;
Who hate you while they make you known.
Oh! sad conclusion that it brings !
Defended by a thousand stings.
That live upon her treacherous smiles :
And ruins all whom she beguiles. —Cowper.
3589. WORLD. Vanity of the
Oh! the world is but a word ;
3590. WORLD. Youth of the
Who will say the world is dying?
Who will say our prime is past? Sparks from heaven within us lying
Flash, and will flash to the last.
Man a tool to buy and sell ;
Ante-room of hell.
Pass the lamp from hand to hand ;
Wife and child and fatherland.
3587. WORLD. The enticing By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair :
But all night as the moon so changeth she ; Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy,
Still the youthful hunter gathers
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our Fiery joy from wold and wood;
tears, He will dare as dared his fathers,
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the Give him cause as good.
ice appears. While a slave bewails his fetters;
Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth disWhile an orphan pleads in vain;
tract the breast, While an infant lisps his letters,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their Heir of all the ages' gain ;
former hope of rest, While a lip grows ripe for kissing;
'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreathe, While a moan from man is wrung; All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and Know, by every want and blessing,
grey beneath. That the world is young.-C. Kingsley.
O could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been,
Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a 3591. WORLDLINESS. Influence of
vanish'd scene, THE world is too much with us ; late and soon,
| As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish
though they be, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would Little we see in nature that is ours;
flow to me !-Byron. We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
3593. WORLDLINGS. Ways of The winds that will be howling at all hours,
Lo! here spread out the plains of heavenly light, And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers
And narrow way, that ends where all is bright. For this, for everything, we're out of tune;
Behold, with globes upon the lightsome green, It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be
To different work address'd, two men are seen. A pagan suckled in a creed outworn,
With careless ease one rolls his globe along, So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
And follows after full of mirth and song; Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ;
The other strives to move his world's vast weight Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Uphill, toward the brightly shining gate; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
He strives in vain ; the globe, though in the track, Wordsworth.
Still downward tending drives him farther back :
And though they seem contrary roads to go, 3592. WORLDLING. Lament of the
They meet together in the vale below. There's not a joy the world can give like that it
Thus some pursue an open course of sin ; takes away,
Some Christ profess, yet hold the world within ; When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's
| Though these appear to play a different game, dull decay;
Their fate is equal, and their end the same. Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone
W. Holmes. which fades so fast,
3594. WORLDS. Other But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth it. Other worlds. Those planets evermore self be past.
On their golden orbits swiftly glide on
From quick Hermes by the solar shore Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of
To remote Poseidon. happiness Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or oceans of ex- | Are they like this earth? The glory shed cess :
From the ruddy dawn's unfading portals The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in Does it fall on regions tenanted vain
By a race of mortals ? The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never Are there merry maidens. wicked-eved. stretch again.
Peeping slyly through the cottage lattice? Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself
Have they vintage-bearing countries wide ? comes down ;
Have they oyster-patties? It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its Have they silent shady forest realms, own;
Odorous violets that in grassy nooks hide,
Aged oaks and great ancestral elms
But in deep penitence the other turns
His downcast eyes to earth, in sorrow bent:
He offers bleeding innocence, and yearns On dark rocks and sandy shores fantastic?
Vicarious release from punishment. Have they any Darwins there to make
The promised Christ to bruise the serpent's head, Theories elastic?
The substitute for man, is shadow'd here;
And Heaven approves the gift-accepts the deed, Have they landscapes that would set a flat alight
The principle of future trust is there. With their beauty? Have they snow-neck'd clerici?
Abel, by faith, Heaven's favour thus obtains Poets who be-rhyme each whirling satellite?
For a more excellent sacrifice by far than Cain's. Dr Temple's heresy ?
Churchill. Does their weather change? November fog
3596. WORSHIP: in what spirit it is to be Weeping April - March with many a raw gust? And do thunder and demented dog
offered. Come to them in August ?
I WOULD my gift were worthier,' sigh'd the Greek, Nineteenth-century science should unravel
As on he goaded to the temple door All these queries, but has somehow miss'd 'em.
His spotted bullock : ‘Ever of our store
Doth Zeus require the best. And fat and sleek
The ox I vow'd to him (no brindle streak,
No fleck of dun), when through the breakers' roar 3595. WORSHIP. Acceptable
He bore me safe, that day, to Naxos' shore :
And now my gratitude-how seeming weak!
* But here be chalk-pits: What if I should white Of sacred rites, can bliss procure
The blotches, hiding all unfitness so ?
The victim in the people's eyes would show
Better therefor, the sacrificial rite
Be quicklier granted at so fair a sight,
And the great Zeus himself might never know !'
Even he his all in alms who spends
We have a God who knows: And yet we dare,
On His consuming altar-coals, to lay
(Full loth the goad of conscience to obey)-
In place of what we vow'd-in our despairTwo altars are upreard in yonder plain ;
Of best and holiest ; glad no mortal may Two worshippers with different gifts draw near;
Pierce through the cheat, and hoping half to stay Two sacrifices are presented there,
That eye before whose search all souls are bare. Heaven's merciful approval to obtain. One brings a bloody offering, and the slain
Nay, rather let us bring the victim-heart, Crimsons earth's beauteous carpet with its gore; Defiled, unworthy, blemish'd though it be, A lamb-a sinless victim-there is slain ;
And Aing it on the flame, entreating : 'See ! Such sacrifice Earth never saw before.
I blush to know how vile in every part Upon the other altar luscious fruits,
| Is this, my gift, through sin's delusive art, Like incense, are in rich profusion piled,
Yet-'tis the best that I can offer Thee!' Mix'd with earth's ripen'd grain, its fruitful roots,
Margaret 7. Preston. And gorgeous flowers, all beautiful and wild. Which of these two oblations will be found
3597. WORSHIP. Places of Most worthy-tribute from the ..ock, or from the SPIRIT! whose life-sustaining presence fills ground?
Air, ocean, central depths, by man untried, Heaven takes the former, but the latter spurns ; Thou for Thy worshippers hast sanctified
One lifts his head to heaven to thank the Giver, All place, all time! The silence of the hills
Nor thinks to mourn his lost condition ever; Breathes veneration ; founts and choral rills With Pharisaic pride his spirit burns,
Of these are murmuring : to its inmost glade
The living forest with Thy whisper thrills,
We built our church; carved were the stones and And there is holiness on every shade.
wood, Yet must the thoughtful soul of man invest
And priceless was the land on which it stood ; With dearer consecration those pure fanes, Surely our golden gists are not forgot :Which, sever'd from all sound of earth's unrest, And the stern Christ shall say, 'I know them not,' Hear nought but suppliant or adoring strains
But this I know, that at your temple gate Rise heavenward. Ne'er may rock or cave possess
My poor, my starving poor, in sorrow sat; Their claim on human hearts to solemn tenderness.
Mine were the children, ignorant and cold,
Mine were the mothers, in their anguish old ; 3598. WORSHIP. Prayer for acceptance of And those young girls were sisters all of mine The glorious hosts of peerless night
That you, for “my sake,” might have saved from That ever see Thy face,
crime. Thou mak'st the mirrors of Thy light,
"I never knew you! From your splendid place The vessels of Thy grace ;
No heart with sorrow breaking sought my face; Then when their wondrous strain they weave, No poor man's soul e'er to my bosom came, Hast pleasure in the lay:
And your church kept the memory of his name; Deign thus our praises to receive,
My poor-which are my body, quite forgot,
I am dishonour'd! Go-I know you not!'
Lillie E. Barr. And yet Thyself they cannot know, Nor pierce the veil of light
3600. WORSHIP. True That hides Thee from the thrones below,
TRUE faith nor biddeth nor abideth form.
The bended knee, the eye uplift, is all
Which man need render; all which God can bear. Due tribute to the King ?
What to the faith are forms ? A passing speck, Thou only, while we praise Thy name,
A crow upon the sky. God's worship is
That only He inspires; and His bright words,
Writ in the red-leaved volume of the heart,
Return to Him in prayer, as dew to heaven. 3599. WORSHIP. Rejected
Our proper good we rarely seek or make; GLADSOME the bells so musical and loud,
Mindless of our immortal powers and their Splendid the court, splendid the glistening crowd ;
Immortal end, as is the pearl of its worth, Luxuriously soft the cushion'd stalls
The rose its scent, the wave its purity.-Bailey. And costly carpet, where the footstep falls; The air perfumed, the music soft and low,
3601. WORTH: how it is to be measured. The tinted lights upon the tinted show.
The worth of all men by their end esteem, O Christ, they come to praise Thee! Dost Thou And then due praise, or due reproach, them yield. hear?
Spenser. For Thee the psalm rings out so sweet and clear, 1 3602. WORTH. Joy in And silk-robed beauty bends the graceful knee,
There is a joy in worth, And wealth doth suffer Thy meek company,
A high, mysterious, soul-pervading charm, Content to pray with self-approving ken,
Which, never daunted, ever bright and warm, • Thanks, Lord ! that we-are not as other men.'
Mocks at the idle, shadowy ills of earth, O vainest prayer! unheard beyond the skies
Amid the gloom is bright, and tranquil in the For widows' wails, and orphans' bitter cries,
storm. For hunger's calls, and the sad freezing moan It asks, it needs no aid; Of dying souls untended and alone.
It makes the proud and lofty soul its throne : Shall they have answer, then ? Ah, yes ! I say There, in its self-created heaven, alone, They shall have answer-on the Judgment Day. No fear to shake, no memory to upbraid, When sore-perplex'd, with hearts that sink and
It sits a lesser God-life, life is all its own ! quake,
The Stoic was not wrong: They urge the plea, ‘Think, Lord, that for Thy There is no evil to the virtuous brave; sake
Or in the battle's rift, or on the wave,