FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. THE TEN LEPERS. And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger. St. Luke xvii. 17, 18. [Gospel for the Day.] [Almighty and everlasting God, give unto us the increase of faith, hope and charity; and that we may obtain that which thou dost promise, make us to love that which thou dost command, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] TEN cleans'd and only one remain! Even He who reads the heart, Knows what He gave and what we lost, Yet 'twas not wonder, but His love Then from afar on God we cry; Faster than those false drops and few A wo for future years? Spirits, that round the sick man's bed Or, when soft showers in season fall How should we gaze in trance of fear! "Ten cleans'd and one remain!" Than by Thy placid voice and brow, FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD. Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. St. Matthew vi. 28. [Gospel for the Day.] [Keep, we beseech thee, O Lord, thy Church with thy perpetual mercy: and because the frailty of man without thee cannot but fail, keep us ever by thy help from all things hurtful, and lead us to all things profitable to our salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.] * SWEET nurslings of the vernal skies, ["Look at the little child on the meadow, no matter though it has been born in the very heart of a city, and seen nothing but brick walls, and crowds, and rolling carriages, and pavements, and dust; let it once get its feet upon the sward, and it will toss away the most costly playthings, and never gather enough of the butter-cups, and daisies, and other wild flowers which prank the sod. And if it shall start a little bird, which bounces onward with easy wing, as if it were leaping from portion to portion of the sightless air, how it will stretch its little hands, and shout, and hurry on to catch the living treasure, which, in its young, but perfectly natural estimation, is of more value than the wealth of the world. And if the bird perches on the hedge or the tree, and sings its sweet song of security, the little finger will at once be held up by their little ear, and the other hand will be extended with the palm back wards, as if a sign were given by nature herself for the world to listen and admire." Mudie's Observation of Nature, p. 35.] Relics ye are of Eden's bowers, Fall'n all beside-the world of life, But cheerful and unchang'd the while The stars of heaven a course are taught Ye dwell beside our paths and homes, They cannot brook our shame to meet― Ye fearless in your nests abide Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise, Your silent lessons, undescried By all but lowly eyes: For ye could draw th' admiring gaze He taught us how to prize. |