Page:The Christian Year 1887.djvu/43

 Infusing all that fires the breast, And cheats the unstable soul.

And still, as loud the revel swells, The fevered pulse beats higher, Till the seared taste from foulest wells Is fain to slake its fire.

Unlike the feast of heavenly love Spread at the Saviour's word For souls that hear His call, and prove Meet for His bridal board.

Why should we fear, youth's draught of joy If pure would sparkle less? Why should the cup the sooner cloy, Which God hath deigned to bless?

For, is it Hope, that thrills so keen Along each bounding vein, Still whispering glorious things unseen? -  Faith makes the vision plain.

The world would kill her soon: but Faith Her daring dreams will cherish, Speeding her gaze o'er time and death To realms where nought can perish.

Or is it Love, the dear delight Of hearts that know no guile, That all around see all things bright With their own magic smile?

The silent joy that sinks so deep, Of confidence and rest, Lulled in a father's arms to sleep, Clasped to a mother's breast?

Who, but a Christian, through all life That blessing may prolong? Who, through the world's sad day of strife, Still chant his morning song?

Fathers may hate us or forsake, God's foundlings then are we: Mother on child no pity take, But we shall still have Thee.