79 To Thee, O Christ, we fly, Dedication of a Church. [By N. P. WILLIS, the American poet, born in Maine, 1807; died at Idlewild, 1867.] HE perfect world by Adam trod, THE Was the first temple built by God: His fiat laid the corner-stone, And heaved its pillars, one by one. He hung its starry roof on high- He spread its pavement, green and bright, The mountains in their places stood, Lord! 'tis not ours to make the sea [From the Latin of Venantius Fortunatus of Italy, who was born 530, and died 609. He was the intimate friend of Queen Rhadegunda. This hymn is sung in the Roman Catholic Church on Good Friday, when "the Host" is carried to the altar. The version here given is, with some variations, that of Rev. J. M. Neale, who considers this "one of the grandest in the treasury of the Latin Church." The explanation of the last line of the third stanza is, that in the Italic version, Ps. 96: 10 reads, "Tell it among the heathen that the Lord reigneth from the Tree." Justin Martyr accused the Jews of corrupting the text, and Tertullian in several places quotes the elder reading.] Treyaross shines forth in mystic glow; HE banners forward go; Where He in flesh, our flesh who made, Where deep for us the spear was dyed, Fulfilled is all that David told In true prophetic song of old; Hath reigned and triumphed from the tree. O tree of beauty, tree of light! On whose dear arms, so widely flung, 81 The Heavens declare His Glory. [This noble hymn has generally been attributed to Joseph Addison. It was published in a number of the "Spectator" which Addison is known to have written, but there he makes no claim to the authorship. The "Athenæum" brings to light, from an old edition of his poems collected in 1776, strong evidence that the hymn was written by Andrew Marvell. There is no evidence that Addison was the author.] HE spacious firmament on high, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, The unwearied sun, from day to day, Soon as the evening shades prevail, While all the stars that round her burn, What though in solemn silence all In reason's eye they all rejoice, 82 Resignation. [By HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.] HERE is no flock, however watched and THE tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair! The air is full of farewells to the dying, The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Let us be patient! These severe afflictions But oftentimes celestial benedictions We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There is no death! What seems so is transition. Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 83 T A City that hath Foundations. [By CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. Written in 1866.] THEREFORE, O friend, I would not, if I might, Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed One time to dwell: my soul shall walk in white, Cast down, but not destroyed. Therefore in patience I possess my soul; Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face, To pluck down, to build up again the whole, – But in a distant place. These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them; This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet; My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem, My heart remembers it. I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees, I, precious more than seven times molten gold, Until the day when from His storehouses I languish and grow less. Although to-day He prunes my twigs with pain, Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root; To-morrow I shall put forth buds again, 84 Fellowship of Suffering. [By THEODORE TILTON, a native of New York.] HY cruel crown of thorns! THY But where, O But where, O Lord, is mine? |