HOLY, HOLY, HOLY LORD. Spirit, daily meetness bringing In this strain what fulness dwelleth! Fullest praise thy saints thus bring thee, Lord! with sin-bound souls thou bearest, That thrice-awful name of thine. Rings through heaven this strain full meetly, "Holy, holy, holy Lord!" Shall we, Lord, meet voices never Bring to that eternal hymn ? Hallow us to help the endeavor Of thy pure-lipped seraphim! Hark! their own high strain we bring thee; Listen to the full accord! Sweet the song we ever sing thee, "Holy, holy, holy Lord!" 1860. THOMAS HORNBLOWER GILL. HOLY, HOLY, HOLY LORD. God of hosts, eternal King, To the blessed Trinity. Since by thee were all things made, Praise to thee let all things give, Thousands, tens of thousands, stand, Cherubim and seraphim Veil their faces with their wings; Eyes of angels are too dim To behold the King of kings, While they sing eternally To the blessed Trinity. 1862. Thee apostles, prophets thee, Thee the noble martyr band, Praise with solemn jubilee ; Thee the Church in every land; Singing everlastingly To the blessed Trinity. In thy name baptized are we, To the Father and the Son, Who for us vouchsafed to die, And to God the Holy One Who the Church doth sanctify, Sing we with glad jubilee, Alleluia! Lord, to thee. Alleluia! Lord, to thee, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Godhead One and Persons Three; Join us with the heavenly host, Singing everlastingly To the blessed Trinity. 469 CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D. D. TO GOD. Ω πάντων ἐπέκεινα· τί γὰρ θέμις ἄλλο σε μελπειν· GREGORY was born near Nazianzus, in Cappadocia, in 325, and died in 389. He was a man of sincere piety and great learning. He was engaged in the contest of Christianity and paganism against the apostate emperor Julian, and by his remarkable eloquence produced profound effects. successively Bishop of Sasima, Nazianzus, and Constantinople. The Rev. Allen W. Chatfield, Vicar of Much Marcle, England, is author of a volume of translations entitled "Songs and Hymns of Earliest Greek Christian Poets." He was O THOU, the One supreme o'er all! And pierce and find thee out, and scan Unuttered thou! all uttered things Have had their birth from thee: The one unknown! from thee the springs Of all we know and see! And all things, as they move along In order fixed by thee, And lo! all things abide in thee, And through the complex whole Thou spread'st thine own divinity, Thyself of all the goal. One being thou, all things, yet none, Beyond the range of thought. O thou, the One supreme o'er all! May we upon thy greatness call, Translated from the Greek of GREGORY NAZIANZEN THRICE HOLY. HOLY, holy, holy Lord God of Hosts! When heaven and earth, Out of darkness, at thy word Issued into glorious birth, All thy works before thee stood, Holy, holy, holy! Thee, One Jehovah evermore, Father, Son, and Spirit, we, Dust and ashes, would adore ; Lightly by the world esteemed, From that world by thee redeemed, Sing we here, with glad accord, Holy, holy, holy Lord! A THOUGHT. A FAIR and stately scene of roof and walls Like golden feathers in the ringdove's nest Yonder the bounding sea, that couch of God! A wavy wilderness of sand between; Such pavement, in the Syrian deserts, trod Bright forms, in girded albs, of heavenly mien. Such saw the patriarch in his noonday tent: Three severed shapes that glided in the sun, Till lo, they cling, and, interfused and blent, A lovely semblance gleams, the three in one! Be such the scenery of this peaceful ground, This leafy tent amid the wilderness; Fair skies above, the breath of angels round, And God the Trinity to beam and bless! Aug. 30, 1866. ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER. TO THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE GOD. JUAN MELENDEZ VALDEZ was born at Ribera, March 11, 1754, and received a thorough education. In 1785 he published his "Poesias Liricas," which established his poetical reputation. He became involved in the political fortunes of his country, and was banished in 1798 to Zamora. In 1802 he returned, but, having accepted office under Joseph Bonaparte, he was obliged to retire to France upon the final overthrow of his government, and died May 24, 1817. FIRST, mightiest Deity! Eternal mind! And feel thine influence, thy celestial presence, All lives, all breathes, all vegetates in thee; O THOU ETERNAL ONE! And nought I see, but mine own ignorance And thine immensity. Thee, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, How should these thoughts embrace? Of dazzling light is drowned, For if to man to know thee it were given, Would wrest thy sceptre, and usurp in heaven Thy throne of majesty. But thou art far beyond my knowledge, Lord! Filling all space, all time. The first, the last, ungoverned and adored! Thou makest thy path sublime, Thou givest motion to the heavens, thy hand Pours out the deep proud sea; And the adamantine pillars of the land Are reared and propped by thee. Thy way is in the empyrean, and thy feet 471 I'll stop the hurrying night, the hastening day, To tell me where is God? I'll ask forgive my daring, gracious One! And lead the wanderer home: Oh, may I catch one lightbeam from thy throne, Through ages yet to come! For how should earthly dust presume to rise So daringly, so high? And how should dim and dying mortal eyes I cannot bear them; but I feel and know, And worms and worlds, the lofty and the low, All, all thy love proclaim, thy power and love, Obvious to every sense; And heard in all, around, beneath, above, In varied eloquence. I see thee in the flower, I feel thee still I hear thee in the music of the rill, Yes, thy glance visits death's profoundest pit, This is enough all sadness to control, And night with brightness fills; And from the car of light where thou dost ride, Thine eye, serene and holy, Mourns over man's intolerable pride, Laughs at his towering folly. But thou art vaster than the unbounded sky And the unfathomed ocean; Thou art, and wert before eternity, Before or rest or motion. How shall I praise thee? Seraphs, when they bring The homage of their lyre, Veil their bright face beneath their flaming wing, And tremble and retire. Eternal majesty, immense abyss ! Light and Infinity! Canst thou unveil thee to a worm like this? No! 't is all dark to me. Who art thou? where? Oh, condescend to speak, And let thy servant hear : Oh, lend me wings, and I my God will seek I'll ask the rapid wind, I'll ask the storm, "Say, hast thou seen his venerable form, I'll meet the comet in his fiery way, All doubts and fears to chase; And to shed over my enraptured soul The rivers of thy grace. To contemplate, enjoy, admire, adore, And send sweet thoughts towards heaven; What can an earthly spirit ask for more, What more to man be given? Lost in thy works, yet full of humble trust, I close the worthless lay; Bow down my reverent forehead in the dust, JUAN MELENDEZ VALDEZ. Translated by O THOU ETERNAL ONE! GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN, the brilliant Russian statesman, Secretary of State under Catherine II., was born at Kazan, July 3, 1743, and died July 6, 1816. His poems appeared in four volumes in 1810, two years after his retirement from his positions at Court, and are marked by sublimity, originality, and purity of sentiment. Among them none surpasses his Oda Bogu, "Ode to God," here given in the excellent translation of Bowring, O THOU eternal One! whose presence bright All space doth occupy, all motion guide; Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight; Thou only God! There is no God beside! Being above all beings! mighty One! Whom none can comprehend and none ex plore ; spark, Reason's brightest What are ten thousand worlds compared to thee? And what am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host, Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed Nought! yet the effluence of thy light divine Though kindled by thy light, in vain would Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom Sole origin all life, all beauty thine. Thy splendor fills all space with rays divine. Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate! Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround, Upheld by thee, by thee inspired with breath! Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, And beautifully mingled life and death! As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze, So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from thee, And as the spangles in the sunny rays A million torches lighted by thy hand too; Yes! in my spirit doth thy spirit shine, I am, O God! and surely thou must be ! Thou art directing, guiding all, thou art! birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land! The chain of being is complete in me; I can command the lightning, and am dust! Constructed and conceived? unknown! this clod Lives surely through some higher energy; For from itself alone it could not be ! A HYMN FOR ALL NATIONS. Yet shall thy shadowed image fill our breast, And waft its homage to thy Deity. God! thus alone my lonely thoughts can soar; Thus seek thy presence, Being wise and good! Midst thy vast works admire, obey, adore ; And when the tongue is eloquent no more, The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude! Translated from the Russian of GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN by SIR JOHN BOWRING. GOD IN THE HEART. SOURCE of my life's refreshing springs, Whose presence in my heart sustains me, Thy love appoints me pleasant things, Thy mercy orders all that pains me. If loving hearts were never lonely, If all they wish might always be, Accepting what they look for only, They might be glad, but not in thee Well may thy own beloved, who see In all their lot their Father's pleasure, Bear loss of all they love, save thee, Their living, everlasting treasure. We need as much the cross we bear, It binds us to our strength in thee. A HYMN FOR ALL NATIONS. MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, author of "Proverbial Philosophy," was born in London, July 17, 1810, and was educated at Charterhouse and at Oxford. He was admitted to the bar, but never practised. This hymn, written for the World's Fair of 1851, was translated into thirty languages, and printed in more than fifty versions at that time. GLORIOUS God! on thee we call, In the wonders all around Yea, and foremost in the van 473 Lo, our God! thy children here May we, with fraternal mind, Bless our brothers of mankind! Be the blest of God above! MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER. ANIMA MUNDI. "ANIMA Mundi," of thyself existing, Embrace the slaves of circumstance and time? Could we remain continually content But if we mourn, not because time is fleeting, Not because life is short and some die young, But because parting ever follows meeting, And, while our hearts with constant loss are wrung, Our minds are tossed in doubt from sea to sea, We cannot live by instincts, forced to let We would erect some thought the world above, We would, indeed, be somewise as thou art, Not spring and bud, and flower and fade and fall, |