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The trivial round, the common talk,
Would furnish all we ought to ask ;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.

Seek we no more ; content with these,
Let present Rapture, Comfort, Ease,
As Heaven shall bid them, come and go :
The secret this of Rest below.

Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect Reft above;
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray.

KEBLE.

XIX.

CHRISTMAS.

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HAT sudden blaze of song,

Spreads o'er the expanse of Heaven? In waves of light it thrills along,

Th' angelic fignal given “ Glory to God !” from yonder cen

tral fire, Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry quire;

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Like circles widening round

Upon a clear blue river,

Orb after orb, the wondrous sound

Is echoed on for ever : Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, And love towards men of love, salvation and release.”

Yet stay, before thou dare

To join that feftal throng,
Listen, and mark what gentle air
First ftirred the tide of song;

" the Saviour born in David's home, To whom for power and health obedient worlds should

come:"

'Tis not,

'Tis not “ the Christ the Lord :".

With fix'd adoring look
The choir of Angels caught the word,
Nor

yet their silence broke ; But when they heard the fign, where Christ should be, In sudden light they shone and heavenly harmony.

Wrapped in his swaddling bands,

And in his manger laid,
The hope and glory of all lands,

Is come to the world's aid ;
No peaceful home upon His cradle smild,
Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal

Child.
But where Thou dwellest, Lord,

No other thought should be,
Once duly welcom'd and ador'd,

How should I part with Thee?
Bethlehem must lose Thee foon, but Thou wilt grace
The single heart to be thy sure abiding-place.

*

O faint ye not for fear

What though your wandering sheep,
Reckless of what they see and hear,

Lie loft in wilful sleep?
High Heaven, in mercy to your fad annoy,
Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy.

Think on th' eternal home,

The Saviour left for you ;
Think on the Lord most holy, come

To dwell with hearts untrue :
So shall ye tread untir’d His pastoral ways,
And in the darkness fing your carol of high praise.

Keble.

XX.

EPIPHANY.

RIGHTEST and best of the sons of the

Morning,
Dawn on

our darkness and lend
thine aid;

Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining,

Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining,

Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all.

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,

Odours of Edom and offerings divine,
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,

Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation ;

Vainly with gifts would His favour secure;
Richer by far is the heart's adoration,
Dearer to God are the prayers

BISHOP HEBER.

of the poor.

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Crush and kill each secret fin,
That would reign our hearts within ;
Let our hearts Thy temple be,
Pure to praise and worship Thee.

Jesus at Thy latest feast,
John once leaned upon Thy breast;
Fill'd like him, with love divine,
Let us on Thy breast recline.

G

More than to parched land soft showers,
More than dews to drooping flowers,
Precious be to us Thy grace,
Till we see Thee face to face.

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