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Manifest at Jordan's stream,
Prophet, Priest, and King supreme ;
And at Cana Wedding-Guest,
In Thy Godhead manifest ;
Manifest in power Divine,
Changing Water into Wine ;
Anthems be to Thee addrest,

God in Man made manifest. 3 Manifest in making whole

Palsied limbs and fainting soul ;
Manifest in valiant fight,
Quelling all the Devil's might ;
Manifest in gracious will,
Ever bringing good from ill ;
Anthems be to Thee addrest,

God in Man made manifest.
4 Sun and Moon shall darkened be,

Stars shall fall, the heavens shall flee;
Christ will then like lightning shine,
All will see His glorious Sign:
All will then the Trumpet hear ;
All will see the Judge appear.
Thou by all wilt be confest,

God in Man made manifest.
5 Grant us grace to see Thee, Lord,

Mirrored in Thy holy Word;
May we imitate Thee now,
And be pure, as pure art Thou;
That we like to Thee may be
At Thy great Epiphany ;
And may praise Thee, ever blest,
God in Man made manifest. Amen.

C. Wordsworth.

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57.
O VERY God of very God,

And very Light of Light,
Whose feet this earth's dark valley trod,

That so it might be bright;

2

Our hopes are weak, our fears are strong,

Thick darkness blinds our eyes ;
Cold is the night, and O! we long

That Thou, our Sun, wouldst rise !

3 And even now, though dull and grey,

The east is brightening fast,
And kindling to the perfect day,

That never shall be past.

4. O, guide us till our path be done,

And we have reached the shore
Where Thou, our Everlasting Sun,

Art shining evermore!

5 We wait in faith, and turn our face

To where the daylight springs,
Till Thou shalt come our gloom to chase,

With healing on Thy wings.

6 To God the Father, power and might

Both now and ever be ;
To Him that is the Light of Light,
And, Holy Ghost, to Thee. Amen.

7. M. Neale.

58.

I

Te læta mundi Conditor.
CREATOR of the world, to Thee

Eternal rest belongs,
And heavenly choirs are ever free

To pour their endless songs.

2

But we, poor fallen creatures, here

Are doomed to toil and pain ;
How then can we in exile drear

Lift up the heavenly strain ?

3

O Father, who dost promise still

To make the captive free,
Grant us to mourn the deeds of ill

That banish us from Thee ;

4 And, mourning, grant us faith to rest

Upon Thy love and care :
Till Thou restore us, with the blest

The joys of heaven to share.

5 O God the Father, God the Son,

And God the Holy Ghost,
To Thee be praise, great Three in One,

From Thy created host. Amen.

I

59. THERE is a book, who runs may read,

, Which heavenly truth imparts ; And all the lore its scholars need,

Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

2

The works of God, above, below,

Within us, and around,
Are pages in that book to show

How God Himself is found.

3 The glorious sky, embracing all,

Is like the Maker's love,
Wherewith encompassed, great and small

In peace and order move.
4. The dew of heaven is like Thy grace,

It steals in silence down ;
But where it lights, the favoured place

By richest fruits is known.
5 One Name above all glorious names,

With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims,

Echoing angelic songs.
6 The raging fire, the roaring wind,

Thy boundless power display ;
But in the gentler breeze we find

Thy Spirit's viewless way.

7 Two worlds are ours : 'tis only sin

Forbids us to descry
The mystic heaven and earth within,

Plain as the sea and sky.

8 Thou, who hast given me eyes to see,

And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere. Amen.

7. Keble.

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60.
COME, labour on!
Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain ?
While all around him waves the golden grain,
And to each servant does the Master say

“Go, work to-day !”

Come, labour on!
Claim the high calling Angels cannot share,
To young and old the Gospel-gladness bear:
Redeem the time ; its hours too swiftly fly,

The night draws nigh.

Come, labour on!
The labourers are few, the field is wide,
New stations must be filled, and blanks supplied ;
From voices distant far, or near at home

The call is “ Come !"

Come, labour on !
The enemy is watching, night and day,
To sow the tares, to snatch the seed away.
While we in sleep our duty have forgot

He slumbered not.

Come, labour on !
Away with gloomy doubts and faithless fear !
No arm so weak but may do service here;
By feeblest agents can our God fulfil

His righteous will.

Come, labour on !
No time for rest, till glows the western sky,
While the long shadows o'er our pathway lie,
And a glad sound comes with the setting sun,-

“Servants, well done!”

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