WHEN GOD OF OLD CAME DOWN FROM
HEAVEN.

WHEN God of old came down from heaven,

In power and wrath he came ;

Before his feet the clouds were riven,
Half darkness and half flame.

Around the trembling mountain's base
The prostrate people lay:

A day of wrath, and not of grace;
A dim and dreadful day.

But when he came the second time,
He came in power and love;
Softer than gale at morning prime
Hovered his holy Dove.

The fires, that rushed on Sinai down.
In sudden torrents dread,

Now gently light, a glorious crown,
On every sainted head.

Like arrows went those lightnings forth,
Winged with the sinner's doom;
But these, like tongues, o'er all the earth
Proclaiming life to come.

And as on Israel's awe-struck ear
The voice exceeding loud,

The trump that angels quake to hear,
Thrilled from the deep, dark cloud;

So, when the Spirit of our God

Came down, his flock to find,

A voice from heaven was heard abroad,
A rushing, mighty wind.

Nor doth the outward ear alone

At that high warning start: Conscience gives back the appalling tone; 'Tis echoed in the heart.

It fills the Church of God, it fills
The sinful world around:
Only in stubborn hearts and wills
No place for it is found.

To other strains our souls are set :

A giddy whirl of sin

Fills ear and brain, and will not let

Heaven's harmonies come in.

Come, Lord! come Wisdom, Love, and Power,

Open our ears to hear!

Let us not miss the accepted hour;

Save, Lord, by love or fear!

1827.

If

JOHN KEBLE

OUR BLEST REDEEMER ERE HE BREATHED.

Ο

UR blest Redeemer, ere he breathed

His tender, last farewell,

A Guide, a Comforter, bequeathed,

With us to dwell.

1829.

He came in semblance of a dove,

With sheltering wings outspread,
The holy balm of peace and love
On earth to shed.

He came, in tongues of living flame,
To teach, convince, subdue ;
All-powerful as the wind he came,
As viewless too.

He came, sweet influence to impart,
A gracious, willing Guest,
While he can find one humble heart
Wherein to rest.

And his that gentle voice we hear,
Soft as the breath of even,

That checks each fault, that calms each fear,
And speaks of Heaven.

1

HARRIET AUBER.

THOU WHO ONE IN ESSENCE LIVEST.

(Simplex in Essentia.)

HOU who One in Essence livest,

THOU

Seven-fold in the grace thou givest,
Holy Spirit, on us shine!

All the shadows o'er us brooding,
All the snares our flesh deluding,

Lighten by thy beam divine.

Clad in fear, in darkness clouded,
Came the Law in figure shrouded:
Now behold the Gospel ray,

Now the Spirit's wisdom better,
Hidden by the leafy letter,

Open into perfect day.

'Neath the mount the people trembled:

In the upper room assembled,

Heard a few the word of Grace:

Nobler law than Sinai telling,

Newer precepts, gifts excelling,

Learn we in that holy place.

Trumpet clang and fiery wonder,
Midnight and the muttering thunder,

Bickering lamps and sounds of dread, Shook the Hebrew, conscience-stricken; But the love it could not quicken,

By the Oil of gladness shed.

See the fathers, fore-appointed,

God's ambassadors anointed,

Break the chains of human ill: Raining truth, and judgment pealing, With new tongues and doctrines healing, Heavenly signs attend them still.

See, the sick they kindly cherish:
Man's lost nature, nigh to perish,

Love divine will seek, will find;

But the guilty, past repentance,
Scourge they with pursuing sentence;

Theirs to loose, and theirs to bind.

1192.

This the time to by-gone ages,
If you search the mystic pages,

In the Jubilee foreshowed:
Lo! the long descried fulfilling,
When three thousand converts willing
Bloomed within the Church of God.

Jubilee! the glorious token,

When the captive's bonds were broken,
Rose anew Redemption's morn;
So from sin's dark, hapless prison,
By the law of love new-risen,

Sons of God are we free-born.

ADAM OF ST. VICTOR, TRANS. BY E. A. WASHBURN.

SONGS OF SUNDAY.

SUNDA Y.

DAY most calm, most bright!

The fruit of this, the next world's bud;

The indorsement of supreme delight,

Writ by a Friend, and with his blood;

The couch of time; care's balm and bay ;-
The week were dark but for thy light :
Thy torch doth show the way.

Sundays the pillars are

On which heaven's palace archèd lies:
The other days fill up the spare
And hollow room with vanities.