O Thou, whose infant feet were found
Within thy Father's shrine!
Whose years, with changeless virtue crown'd,
Dependent on thy bounteous breath, We seek thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age and death, To keep us still thine own!
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.
Oн, hand of bounty, largely spread, By whom our every want is fed, Whate'er we touch, or taste, or see, We owe them all, oh Lord! to Thee; The corn, the oil, the purple wine, Are all thy gifts, and only thine!
The stream thy word to nectar dyed, The bread thy blessing multiplied, The stormy wind, the whelming flood, That silent at thy mandate stood, How well they knew thy voice divine, Whose works they were, and only thine!
Though now no more on earth we trace Thy footsteps of celestial grace, Obedient to thy word and will We seek thy daily mercy still; Its blessed beams around us shine, And thine we are, and only thine!
INCARNATE Word, who, wont to dwell
In lowly shape and cottage cell, Didst not refuse a guest to be At Cana's poor festivity :
Oh, when our soul from care is free, Then, Saviour, may we think on Thee, And seated at the festal board, In Fancy's eye behold the Lord.
Then may we seem, in Fancy's ear, Thy manna-dropping tongue to hear, And think,-even now, thy searching gaze Each secret of our soul surveys!
So may such joy, chastised and pure, Beyond the bounds of earth endure; Nor pleasure in the wounded mind Shall leave a rankling sting behind!
WHEN on her Maker's bosom
The new-born earth was laid, And nature's opening blossom Its fairest bloom display'd;
When all with fruit and flowers The laughing soil was drest, And Eden's fragrant bowers Receiv'd their human guest;
No sin his face defiling,
The heir of Nature stood, And God, benignly smiling, Beheld that all was good!
Yet in that hour of blessing, A single want was known; A wish the heart distressing; For Adam was alone!
May such thy bounties ever
To wedded love be shown,
And no rude hand dissever
Whom thou hast link'd in one !
« AnteriorContinuar » |