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And they beneath their Leader,
Who conquered in the fight,
Are clad in robes of white.
The joy of the elect,
That eager hearts expect.
Ev'n here thy walls discern;
And strive, and pant, and yearn.
That look’ft from Heav'n below,
In me is all my woe.
My spirit seeks thee fain;
To earth and flesh again.
O state that fear'ft no strife!
BERNARD, 12th Cent.
* These very beautiful lines form a portion of a lengthy poem “On the Contempt of the World,” by Bernard of Cluny, the contemporary of his more illustrious na
namesake, better known as St. Bernard, one of whose hymns will be found in this collection.
IGH the angel choirs are raising
Heart and voice in harmony;
Sweetest strains, from soft harps stealing ;
In that city cease to be !
Every voice is there harmonious,
There the Triune Deity,
Aye, with love eternal burning ;
To their fount of honour turning ;
Gaze upon His Majesty.
Oh, how beautiful that region,
Where thus men and angels blend !
Light and peace from end to end!
Shine in robes of purity;
Bound in firmeft unity ;
Ignorance can ne'er perplex,
THOMAS À Kemps, 14th Cent.
THE LAST DAY.
REAT God, what do I see and hear!
The end of things created !
On clouds of glory seated !
graves restore The dead, which they contained before ;
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.
“ The dead in Christ shall first arise,”
At the last trumpet's founding !
Caught up to meet Him in the skies,
With joy their Lord surrounding : No gloomy fears their fouls dismay; His presence sheds eternal day
On those prepared to meet Him.
Far over space to diftant spheres
The lightnings are prevailing;
And cries are unavailing :
All unprepared to meet Him.
Stay, Fancy, stay, and close thy wings;
Repress thy flight too daring;
The Judge my nature wearing;
MARTIN LUTHER, 16th Cent.
THE HOLY SPIRIT.
OME, Holy Spirit, God and Lord,
Thy light this day shone forth so clear,