Page:The Christian Year 1887.djvu/84




 * Seemeth it but a small thing unto you, that the God of Israel hath separated you from the congregation of Israel, to bring you near to Himself? Numbers xvi. 9.

First Father of the holy seed, If yet, invoked in hour of need, Thou count me for Thine own Not quite an outcast if I prove, (Thou joy'st in miracles of love), Hear, from Thy mercy-throne!

Upon Thine altar's horn of gold Help me to lay my trembling hold, Though stained with Christian gore; - The blood of souls by Thee redeemed, But, while I roved or idly dreamed, Lost to be found no more.

For oft, when summer leaves were bright, And every flower was bathed in light, In sunshine moments past, My wilful heart would burst away From where the holy shadow lay, Where heaven my lot had cast.

I thought it scorn with Thee to dwell, A Hermit in a silent cell, While, gaily sweeping by, Wild Fancy blew his bugle strain, And marshalled all his gallant train In the world's wondering eye.

I would have joined him—but as oft Thy whispered warnings, kind and soft, My better soul confessed. "My servant, let the world alone - Safe on the steps of Jesus' throne  Be tranquil and be blest."

"Seems it to thee a niggard hand That nearest Heaven has bade thee stand,  The ark to touch and bear, With incense of pure heart's desire To heap the censer's sacred fire,   The snow-white Ephod wear?"