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For what Thy foul sustained,

When Thou for me didst bleed :
Grant me to lean, unshaken,

Upon Thy faithfulness;
Until from hence I'm taken

To see Thee face to face.

Lord, at my

dissolution
Do not from me depart ;
Support, at the conclufion

Of life my fainting heart ;
And when I pine and languish,

Seized with death's agony,
Oh, by thy pain and anguish,
Set me at liberty !

ST. BERNARD, 12th Cent.

XVI.

LIFE.
RIEF life is here our portion,

Brief sorrow, short-lived care :
The life that knows no ending,

The tearless life is there.

[graphic]

* The above is rather a translation of a translation, taken from one of Paul Gerhard's most beautiful German hymns, and which indeed is almost too original to be properly termed a translation. Paul Gerhard is supposed to be a lineal descendant of Gerhard, the brother of the great St. Bernard, whose love and affection are so glowingly described in that wonderful sermon preached by the Abbot of Clairvaux on his brother's decease.

happy retribution,

Short toil, eternal rest! For mortals and for sinners

A mansion with the bleft;—

That we should look, poor wanderers,

To have our home on high ! That worms should seek for dwellings

Beyond the starry sky ! And now we fight the battle,

And then we wear the crown Of full and everlasting

And passionless renown. Then glory, yet unheard of,

Shall shed abroad its ray,
Resolving all enigmas, -

An endless Sabbath day.
Then, then, from his oppressors,

The Hebrew shall go free,
And celebrate in triumph

The year of Jubilee.

And the sun-lit land that recks not

Of tempeft or of fight, Shall fold within its bosom

Each happy Ifraelite.

Midst power

that knows no limit, And wisdom free from bound, The beatific vision

Shall glad the saints around.

And peace, for war is needless,

And rest, for storm is paft, And goal from finished labour,

And anchorage at last. There God my King and portion,

In fulness of His grace, Shall we behold for ever,

And worship face to face. There Jacob unto Israel,

From earthlier self estranged, And Leah unto Rachel

For ever shall be changed.

There all the halls of Sion

For aye shall be complete; And in the land of Beauty

All things of beauty meet.

To thee, O much loved country !

Mine eyes their vigils keep; For very love beholding

Thy happy name, they weep. The mention of Thy glory

Is unction to the breast, And medicine in sickness,

And love, and life, and rest.
O one, Q only mansion !

O Paradise of joy,
Where tears are ever banished,

And smiles have no alloy.

Beside thy living waters

All plants are great and small;
The cedar of the forest

The hyffop of the wall.
With jaspers glow thy bulwarks,

Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; The fardius and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays.

Thy ageless walls are bonded

With amethyst unpriced; Thy Saints build up its fabric,

And the Corner-stone is CHRIST.

Thou hast no shore, fair Ocean!

Thou haft no time, bright day ! Dear fountain of refreshment

To pilgrims far away!

Upon the Rock of Ages

They raise thy holy tower ; Thine is the victor's laurel,

And thine the golden dower.

Thou feelft in mystic rapture,

O Bride that know'st no guile ; The Prince's sweetest kisses,

The Prince's loveliest smile.

Unfading lilies, bracelets

Of living pearl, thine own; The Lamb is ever near Thee,

The Bridegroom thine alone.

And all thine endless leisure

In sweetest accents sings The ills that were thy merit,

The joys that are thy King's.

Jerusalem the golden !

With milk and honey bleft, Beneath thy contemplation

Sink heart and voice oppreft.

I know not, oh, I know not

What social joys are there, What radiancy of glory

What light beyond compare.

And when I fain would fing them,

My spirit fails and faints; And vainly would it image

The assembly of the Saints.
They stand, those halls of Sion,

Conjubilant with song,
And bright with many an angel,

And many a martyr throng;
The Prince is ever in them,

The light is aye serene ; The pastures of the blessed

Are decked in glorious sheen.

There is the throne of David,

And there, from toil released, The shout of them that triumph,

The song of them that feast.

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