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VII.

REDEMPTION.

ING, my tongue, the glorious battle,

With completed victory rife,
And above the Cross's trophy

Tell the triumph of the strife;
How the world's Redeemer con-

quered,
By surrendering of His life.

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God, His Maker, forely grieving

That the first-born Adam fell,
When he ate the noxious apple

Whose reward was death and hell,
Noted then this wood, the ruin

Of the ancient wood to quell.

For the work of our Salvation

Needs would have His order fo,
And the multiform deceiver's

Art by art would overthrow;
And from thence would bring the medicine

Whence the venom of the foe.

Wherefore, when the sacred fulness

Of the appointed time was come,
This world's Maker left his Father,

Left His bright and heavenly home,
And proceeded, God Incarnate,

From the Virgin's holy womb.

Weeps the infant in the manger

That in Bethlehem's stable stands ; And His limbs the Virgin Mother

Doth compose in swaddling bands, Meetly thus in linen folding

Of her God the feet and hands.

Thirty years among us dwelling,

His appointed time fulfilled; Given for this, He meets His Passion,

For that this He freely willed; On the Cross the Lamb is lifted,

On whose Death our hope we build.

He endured the shame and spitting,

Vinegar, and nails, and reed; As His blessed fide is opened,

Water thence and blood proceed. Earth, and sky, and stars, and ocean,

By that flood are cleansed indeed.

Faithful Cross! above all other

One and only noble tree !
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit

compares

with Thee : Sweetest wood, and sweetest iron,

Sweetest weight sustaining free.

Bend thy boughs, O Tree of glory!

Thy relaxing finews bend;

For awhile the ancient rigour

That thy boughs, O Tree of Glory!
And the King of Heavenly Beauty

On thy bosom gently tend.

Thou alone wast counted worthy

This world's ransom to uphold;
For a shipwrecked world preparing

Harbour, like the Ark of old;
With the Sacred Blood anointed

From the wounded Lamb that rolled.

Laud and honour to the Father,

Laud and honour to the Son,
Laud and honour to the Spirit,

Ever Three and ever One :
Consubftantial, Coeternal,
While unending ages run.

VENANTIUS *, 6th Cent.

The above, which may be placed in the very first class of Latin hymns, beginning “Pange, lingua , gloriofi,” was composed by Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Poictiers, during the time of Augustine's mission to this country.

VIII.

THE HOLY SPIRIT.

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OME, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,

And lighten with celestial fire.
Thou the anointing Spirit art,
Who doft Thy seven-fold gifts

impart.
Thy blessed Unction from above
Is comfort, life, and fire of love.
Enable with perpetual light
The dulness of our blinded sight.
Anoint and cheer our soiled face
With the abundance of Thy grace ;
Keep far our foes, give peace at home,
Where Thou art guide no ill can come.
Teach us to know the Father, Son,
And Thee, of both, to be but One;
That through the ages all along
This may be our endless song:
Praise to Thy eternal merit,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. *

Gregory, 6th Cent.

This beautiful hymn, so well known from its being introduced in the Ordination Service of the Church of England, has been frequently attributed to Charlemagne in the 8th century, but Mone, in his “Collection of Latin Hymns of the Middle Ages,” more correctly adjudges the authorship to Gregory, commonly called “ The Great."

IX.

THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM.

LESSED city, Heavenly Salem,

Vision dear of peace and love, Who, of living stones upbuilded,

Art the joy of Heaven above : And, with Angel cohorts tended, As a Bride to earth doft move.

Coming new from highest heaven,

Ready for the nuptial bed,
Decked with jewels, to His presence

By her Lord shall she be led :
All her streets and all her bulwarks

Of pure gold are fashioned.

Bright with pearls her portal glitters;

It is open evermore :
And by virtue of their merits

There each faithful soul may soar
Who, for Christ's dear Name, in this world

Pain and tribulation bore.

Many a blow and biting sculpture

Polished well these stones elect,
In their places now compacted

By the mighty Architect;
Who therewith hath willed for ever

That His palace should be decked.

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