« AnteriorContinuar »
TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER
The sound of war! In earth and air
The volleying thunders roll:
Their fiery darts the fiends prepare,
And dig the pit, and spread the snare,
Against the Christian's soul.
The tyrant's sword, the rack, the flame,
The scorner's serpent tone,
Of bitter doubt the barbed aim,
All, all conspire his heart to tame :
Force, fraud, and hellish fires assail
The rivets of his heavenly mail,
Amidst his foes alone.
Gods of the world, ye warrior host
of darkness and of air,
In vain is all your impious boast,
In vain each missile lightning tost,
In vain the temipter's snare.
Though fast and far your arrows fly,
Though mortal nerve and bone
Shrink in convulsive agony,
The Christian can your rage defy;
Towers o'er his head salvation's crest,
Faith like a buckler, guards his breast,
Undaunted, though alone.
'Tis past, 't is o'er! in foul defeat
The demon host are fled,
Before the Saviour's mercy-seat,
(His live-long work of faith complete,)
Their conqueror bends his head.
• The spoils thyself hast gained, Lord :
I lay before thy throne:
Thou wert my rock, my shield, my sword;
My trust was in thy name and word :
’T was in thy strength my heart was strong ;
Thy spirit went with mine along ;
How was I then alone?
TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER
O God, my sins are manifold, against my life
they cry, And all my guilty deeds foregone, up to thy temple
Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to des
pair is driven ? * Forgive ! a blessed voice replied, and thou
shalt be forgiven.' My foemen, Lord, are fierce and fell, they spurn
me in their pride, They render evil for my good, my patience they
deride ; Arise, O King, and be the proud to righteous
ruin driven. * Forgive!' an awful answer came,
'as thou would'st be forgiven.' Seven times, O Lord, I pardoned them, seven
times they sinned again : They practise still to work me wo, they triumph
in my pain; But let them dread my vengeance now, to just re
sentment driven. 'Forgive ! the voice of thunder spake, or never
TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER
FROM foes that would the land devour;
From guilty pride, and lust of power;
From wild sedition's lawless hour;
From yoke of slavery ;
From blinded zeal by faction led ;
From giddy change by fancy bred ;
From poisonous error's serpent head,
Good Lord, preserve us free.
Defend, O God, with guardian hand,
The laws and ruler of our land,
And grant our church thy grace to stand
In faith and unity;
The spirit's help of thee we crave,
That thou, whose blood was shed to save,
Mayest, at thy second coming, have
A flock to welcome thee.
TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER
To conquer and to save, the Son of God
Came to his own in great humility,
Who wont to ride on cherub wings abroad,
And round him wrap the mantle of the sky.
The mountains bent their necks to form his road;
The clouds dropt down their fatness from on high ;
Beneath his feet the wild waves softly fowed,
And the winds kissed his garment tremblingly.
The grave unbolted half his grisly door,
(For darkness and the deep had heard his fame,
Nor longer might their ancient rule endure;)
The mightiest of mankind stood hushed and tame :
And, trooping on strong wing, his angels came
To work his will, and kingdom to secure;
No strength he needed save his father's name;
Babes were his heralds, and his friends the poor.