Chapter XVI: Part 16

_Redemption!_ ’twas creation more sublime;
_Redemption!_ ’twas the labour of the skies;
Far more than labour, it was death in Heaven:
A truth so strange! ’twere bold to think it true,
If not far bolder still, to disbelieve.
_Young._

Harp! lift thy voice on high! shout, angels, shout!
And loudest ye _redeemed_! Glory to God,
And to the Lamb, who bought us with His blood,
From every kindred, nation, people, tongue;
And washed, and sanctified, and saved our souls;
And gave us robes of linen pure, and crowns
Of life, and made us kings and priests to God!
Shout back to ancient time! sing loud, and wave
Your palms of triumph! sing, where is thy sting,
O death? where is thy victory, O grave?
Thanks be to God, eternal thanks, who gave
Us victory through Jesus Christ, our Lord!
Harp! lift thy voice on high! shout, angels, shout!
And loudest ye _redeemed_! Glory to God,
And to the Lamb, all glory and all praise!
All glory and all praise, at morn and even,
That come and go eternally, and find
Us happy still, and Thee for ever blest!
Glory to God and to the Lamb! Amen.
For ever and for evermore! Amen.
_Robert Pollok._

_Redemption_ was no after-thought, by Sin
Awakened from thy depths, celestial Love!
When first Humanity the fiend obeyed,
For in the councils of Almighty Grace
Thy priesthood, Oh Incarnate! was designed
Before Creation out of nothing sprang.
But when at length the hour predestined came,
Eternity a form of Time assum’d;
Then from His throne of perfect glory stoop’d
The second in the Godhead, and Himself
In mortal limbs and lineaments array’d;
Then did Emmanuel on this blighted earth
Of sin and suffering, body forth such grace
As made our orb a miracle of worlds,
By there achieving what the God Triune
Determined when their master-work was plann’d,
The vast atonement blood divine unveils.
_R. Montgomery._

Nor hymn, nor harp, nor song divine,
Nor myriad orbs created Thine,
Thy measureless display of love
To earth below, and heaven above,
By their unmingled power could tell,--
That ends the curse, and conquers hell!
Lo! the manger where He lies,
A world-_redeeming_ sacrifice:
“Peace on earth! to man good-will!”
Let the skies our anthem fill!
_R. Montgomery._

Hark! ’tis the prophet of the skies
Proclaims _redemption_ near;
The night of death and bondage flies,
The dawning tints appear.

Zion, from deepest shades of gloom,
Awakes to glorious day;
Her desert wastes with verdure bloom,
Her shadows flee away.

To heal her wounds, her night dispel,
The heralds cross the main;
On calvary’s awful brow they tell,
That Jesus lives again.

From Salem’s towers, the Islam sign,
With holy zeal is hurled:
’Tis there Immanuel’s symbols shine,
His banner is unfurled.

The gladdening news, conveyed afar,
Remotest nations hear;
To welcome Judah’s rising star,
The ransomed tribes appear.

Again in Bethlehem swells the song,
The choral breaks again;
While Jordan’s shores the strains prolong,
“Good-will and peace to men!”
_W. P. Tappan._

_Redemption!_ O, thou beauteous mystic plan!
Thou salutary source of light to man!
What tongue can speak thy comprehensive grace?
What thought thy depths unfathomable trace?
When lost in sin our ruined nature lay,
When awful justice claimed her righteous pay,
See the mild Saviour bend His pitying eye,
And stop the lightning just prepared to fly!
_Boyse._

Be every knee
To Christ in homage bent! Be every heart
In adoration, and in fervent prayer,
To Him poured forth! From His all-gracious birth,
The day-spring from on high descends: grim death,
Stripped of his boasted empire, prostrate falls:
The cerements of the dank, victorious grave
Are burst asunder: th’ adamantine gates
Of Paradise unbarred: man’s forfeit race
From the deep gulf of Erebus _redeemed_,
To life, to immortality arise.
_Samuel Hayes._

The grand _Redemption_ of degenerate man
Is not a single, independent act,
But one great system; that, perchance, involved
In the one only greater, God’s high law
Pervading and supporting every part
Of the stupendous universe: to thee,
Dark are the system’s limits; nay, the whole
To thee unknown, save some minuter spots,
Displayed to show the parts thou hast to act
In the alarming scene.
_John Hey._

REFUGE.

The eternal God is thy _refuge_.--Deuteronomy, xxxiii. 27.

The Lord also will be a _refuge_ for the oppressed, a _refuge_ in times of trouble.--Psalm ix. 9.

I will say of the Lord, He is my _refuge_ and my fortress.--Psalm xci. 2.

At length life’s stormy voyage well nigh done,
These waves shall toss my fragile bark no more,
But ah! there waits the judge, the unerring one,
Who shall each word, and work, and thought explore.
And is it so? the fantasy is o’er
That made enshrined art my idol still;
And many a flying shade I chased before,
As my chief good was but a specious ill!
What, if when death has wrack’d his power to kill,
The living death beyond the grave be mine.
The pencil and the chisel have no skill
To chain such thoughts to rest. O Love Divine
Who didst spread wide thy arms on Calvary,
Be thou my _refuge_, Lord! for I have none save thine!
_Michael Angelo._

When rising winds and rain descending,
A near approaching storm declare;
With trembling speed their wings extending,
The birds to sheltering trees repair.

So I, by faith, with sin oppressed,
Would _refuge_ taste, O Christ, in thee;
Thou art my hiding-place and rest,
From every evil shelter me.
_From the German._

Except the Lord the city keep
All vainly may the watchman wake,
The careless souls within who sleep
In fear and terror well may quake.

Except the soul for safety flee
For _refuge_ to the city built
By God for trembling sinners, he
Will be o’ertaken in his guilt.
_Egone._

RELIGION.

If any man among you seem to be _religious_, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man’s _religion_ is vain.

Pure _religion_ and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.--James, i. 26, 27.

Seeming devotion doth but gild the knave,
That’s neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave;
But where _Religion_ doth with Virtue join,
It makes a hero like an angel shine.
_Waller._

_Religion’s_ all. Descending from the skies
To wretched man, the goddess, in her left,
Holds out this world, and in her right, the next.
_Young._

_Religion!_ Providence! an after state!
Here is firm footing; here is solid rock!
This can support us; all is sea besides;
Sinks under us, bestows, and then devours.
His band the good man fastens on the skies,
And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl.
_Young._

_Religion_ does not censure, or exclude
Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.
_Cowper._

Pity _Religion_ has so seldom found
A skilful guide into poetic ground!
The flowers would spring where’er she deigned to stray,
And every muse attend her in the way.
Virtue, indeed, meets many a rhyming friend,
And many a compliment politely penned;
But unattired in that becoming vest
_Religion_ weaves for her, and half undressed,
Stands in the desert, shivering and forlorn
A wintry figure, like a withered thorn.
The shelves are full, all other themes are sped;
Hackneyed and worn to the last flimsy thread,
Satire has long since done his best, and curs’d;
And loathsome ribaldry has done his worst;
Fancy has sported all her powers away
In tales and trifles, and in children’s play;
And ’tis the sad complaint, and almost true,
Whate’er we write, we bring forth nothing new.
’Twere new, indeed, to see a bard all fire,
Touched with a coal from Heaven, assume the lyre
And tell the world, still kindling as he sung,
With more than mortal music on his tongue,
That he who died below, and reigns above,
Inspires the song, and that His name is Love.
_Cowper._

_Religion!_ what treasures untold
Reside in that heavenly word,
More precious than silver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
_Cowper._

And when _religious_ sects ran mad,
He held, in spite of all his learning,
That if a man’s belief is bad,
It will not be improved by burning.
_Praed._

This _Religion_, which dilates our thoughts
Of God Supreme to an infinity
Of awful greatness, yet connects us with Him
As children, loved and cherished;--
Adoring awe with tenderness united.
_Joanna Baillie._

_Religion_ pure,
Unchanged in spirit, though its forms and codes
Wear myriad modes,
Contains all creeds within its mighty span--
The love of God, displayed in love of man.
_Horace Smith._

And when _Religion_ moves upon the face
Of the remote and multitudinous seas,
Be hers again the peaceful mien that charmed
Judea’s midnight winds in secret prayer,
And walked, a spirit of prevailing love,
Upon the star-lit waves of Galilee.
_A. Alexander._

That man alone is truly brave, whose soul
By virtue tutored, by _religion_ swayed,
At their tribunal every impulse scans.
_Samuel Hayes._

_Religion_ is the chief concern
Of mortals here below;
May I its great importance learn,
Its sovereign virtue know!

More needful this than glittering wealth,
Or aught the world bestows;
Not reputation, food, nor health,
Can give us such repose.

_Religion_ should our thoughts engage
Amidst our youthful bloom;
’Twill fit us for declining age,
And for the awful tomb.
_Fawcett._

O deem not that _Religion’s_ hallowed name
Is justly given to deeds of guilt and shame.
Deem not she loves the faggot and the steel,
The blood-stained hand, the heart untaught to feel.
Trace not her footsteps in the princely hall,
Where Borgia’s father held high festival.
She flees from haunts of guilt, nor heeds her voice
To bid the unrepentant heart rejoice;
To the seared spirit opes no ready heaven;
Forgives not him whom God hath not forgiven;
Nor loves she pomp’s vain homage; not the tide
Of low oblations at the shrine of pride.
_Wm. Spicer Wood._

I see the ocean tossing in its strength,
And with a moan that speaks of coming storms
Rousing the dark waves from their lair, to greet
The howling wind, that in its force comes down
As with a war-cry of defiance, to
The might of the proud waters; in the midst
A giant rock uprears its crest, upon
Whose summit stands a form, beneath whose crowned
And awful brow the tempest seems to quail:
The pale magnificent beauty of her face
Is shaded by dark raven locks, that seem
Like night descending on the setting sun--
The calm rebuking chastity of eye
That lays the soul so bare before its glance
Is hers, and her august and stately form
Towers o’er the storm and tempest like a god
Serene in power. ’Tis _Religion_--yes,
Woman thy homage is well paid to her,
Who shall be as a mother to thy race;
When in his dungeon the lone prisoner weeps
Deserted by his kindred; hunted down
Like a wild beast of prey by man, and left
Year after year to count the lingering time
By the slow pulse of his own failing heart;
When in the bitterness of his despair
He weeps, and deems himself forsaken by
All living things; her soothing voice shall thrill
In comfort to his heart; her form shall bend
Like a pitying mother’s o’er him, and
Uphold his drooping head; her hallow’d brow
Shall shed its light upon his soul, and cast
Around him peace ineffable.
_L. C. Reddell._

With ineffectual toil, the Pow’r Supreme
I sought along the mead which flow’rets bore;
Thro’ a dense woodland;--by a mazy stream;--
On heights;--in valleys;--by the wavy shore;
Nor God I found within the solar beam;
Nor in night’s radiance. What I could explore,
I saw, with proofs of His existence teem;
His certain stamp it had, but nothing more!
But thou, _Religion!_ can’st unveil His face!
Shall, then, man’s bosom feel no love for thee,
And seek thee not within thy hallow’d place?
How clearly there the eye of Faith can see
The ever-living God of Truth--Love--Grace!
There man can learn to meet Eternity!
_Rev. W. Pulling._

’Tis _Religion_ that can give,
Sweetest pleasures while we live;
’Tis _Religion_ must supply
Solid comfort when we die.

After death its joys will be
Lasting as eternity!
Be the living God my friend,
Then my bliss shall never end.
_Master._

REMEMBRANCE.

_Remember_, O Lord, thy tender mercies and thy loving-kindnesses; for they have been ever of old.

_Remember_ not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions; according to thy mercy _remember_ thou me for thy goodness’ sake, O Lord.--Psalm xxv. 6, 7.

They that feared the Lord spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of _remembrance_ was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name.--Malachi, iii. 16.

Gethsemane, can I forget? or there Thy conflict see,
Thine agony and bloody sweat, and not _remember_ Thee?
When to the cross I turn mine eyes, and rest on Calvary,
O Lamb of God, my sacrifice! I must _remember_ Thee!
_Remember_ Thee and all Thy pains, and all Thy love to me;
Yea, while a breath or pulse remains, I will _remember_ Thee!
And when these failing lips grow dumb, and mind and memory flee,
When Thou shalt in Thy kingdom come, Jesus _remember_ me.
_J. Montgomery._

Say, who can mourn
Over the smitten idol, by long years
Cemented with his being, yet perceive
No dark _remembrance_ that he fain would blot,
Troubling the tear? If there were no kind deed
Omitted, no sweet, healing word of love
Expected, yet unspoken; no light tone
That struck discordant on the shivering nerve,
For which the weeper fain would rend the tomb
To cry, “Forgive.” O, let him kneel and praise
God amid all his grief.
_Mrs. Sigourney._

_Remember_ me--not, I entreat,
In scenes of festal week-day joy;
For then it were not kind or meet
Thy thoughts thy pleasures should alloy;
But on the sacred Sabbath day,
And, dearest, on thy bended knee,
When thou for those thou lov’st dost pray,
Sweet sister, then _remember_ me.
_Edward Everett._

_Remember_ thee! _remember_ Christ!
While mem’ry holds her place,
Can we forget the Lord of Life,
Who saves us by his grace?

The Lord of Life, with glory crown’d,
On heaven’s exalted throne,
Forgets not those for whom on earth
He heav’d his dying groan.

The promis’d joy he then obtain’d
When he ascended hence,
Up from the grave to God’s right hand
A Saviour and a prince!

His glory now no tongue of man
Or seraph bright can tell:
Yet still the chief of all his joys,
That souls are saved from hell.

For this he came and dwelt on earth;
For this his life was given;
For this he fought and vanquished death,
For this he pleads in heav’n!

Join, all ye saints beneath the sky,
Your grateful praise to give:
Sing loud hosannas to the Lord,
Who died that you might live.
_Dr. Wardlaw._

_Remember_ thy Creator,
Now in thy youthful days,
And let thy heart, an opening flower,
Breathe incense forth of praise.

_Remember_ thy Creator;
O’er thee His love abides,
His wisdom plans, His power sustains,
His bounteous hand provides.

_Remember_ thy Creator,
In all life’s mirth and glee,
And he shall in thy fading age
Still, still, _remember_ thee.
_W. Martin._

REPENTANCE.

_Repent_ ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

Bring forth therefore fruits meet for _repentance_.--Matthew, iii. 2, 8.

_Repent_ ye, and believe the gospel.--Mark, i. 15.

_Repent_ ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.--Acts, iii. 19.

And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men everywhere to _repent_.--Acts, xvii. 30.

For godly sorrow worketh _repentance_ to salvation not to be _repented_ of: but the sorrow of the world worketh death.--II. Corinthians, vii. 10.

Confess yourself to Heaven;
_Repent_ what’s past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
To make them ranker.
_Shakspere._

Try what _repentance_ can: what can it not?
Yet what can it, when one cannot _repent_?
O, wretched state! O, bosom black as death!
O, limed soul, that struggling to be free,
Art more engaged!
_Shakspere._

Chide sinners as the father doth his child,
And keep them in the awe of loving fear;
Make sin most hateful, but in words be mild,
That humble patience may the better hear;
And wounded conscience may receive relief,
When true _repentance_ pleads the sinner’s grief.

Yet flatter not the foul delight of sin,
But make it loathsome in the eye of love,
And seek the heart with holy thoughts to win
Unto the best way to the soul’s behove:
So teach, so live, that both in word and deed
The world may joy thy heavenly rules to read.

Heal the infect of sin with oil of grace,
And wash the soul with true contrition’s tears;
And when confession shows her heavy case,
Deliver faith from all infernal fears,
That when high justice threatens sin with death,
Mercy again may give _Repentance_ breath.
_Nicolas Breton._

At the round world’s imagined corners blow
Your trumpets, angels; and arise, arise,
From death you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall o’erthrow,
All whom war, death, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance hath slain; and you whose eyes
Shall behold God and never taste death’s woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and men mourn a space;
For if above all these my sins abound,
’Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace,
When we are there; here, on this lowly ground
Teach me how to _repent_; for that’s as good
As if Thou hadst sealed my pardon with Thy blood.
_John Donne._

Heaven may forgive a crime to penitence,
For Heaven can judge if penitence is true.
_Dryden._

While music flows around,
Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours;
Amid the roses, fierce _repentance_ rears
Her snaky crest: a quick returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
_Thomson._

I will to-morrow, that I will,
I will be sure to do it;
To-morrow comes, to-morrow goes,
And still thou art to do it.
Thus still _repentance_ is deferred,
From one day to another:
Until the day of death is come
And judgment is the other.
_Drexelius._

Go, let me weep! there’s bliss in tears,
When he who sheds them inly feels
Some lingering strain of early years
Effaced by every drop that steals.
The fruitless showers of worldly woe
Fall dark to earth and never rise;
While tears that from _repentance_ flow,
In bright exhalement reach the skies.

Leave me to sigh o’er hours that flew
More idly then the summer’s wind;
And while they pass’d a fragrance threw,
But left no trace of sweets behind.
The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves
Is faint, is cold to those that swell
The heart, where pure _repentance_ grieves
O’er hours of pleasure loved too well.
_Moore._

He who seeks _Repentance_ for the past,
Should woo the angel virtue for the future.
_Sir E. B. Lytton._

Divine _Repentance_, in thy sacred tear
Alone is wisdom for the erring heart,
That infancy of soul, that stainless hour
When all the chaos of our spirit sleeps
In passionless repose,--how oft it woos
Our feelings back to purity and Heaven!
Alas! that in our solitude we soar
To perfect goodness, but in life descend
To dust again!--our aspirations quenched;
And all that purer moments wisely taught,
Denied, degraded, or forgot!--Thus glide
Our years along, in melancholy dreams
Of what they dare, and what they cannot be!
_R. Montgomery._

_Repentance_ clothes in grass and flowers
The grave in which the past is laid.
_John Sterling._

O blest _Repentance_, in thy weeping eye
Swim the pure beams of embryo-ecstacy.
And Faith, and Hope, and Love, and Joy, prepare
To still thy heart, and wipe thy bitter tear!
To thee alone the privilege is given,
By earthly woe, to kindle joy in Heaven,
For God Himself descends to soothe the heart
That weeps o’er sin, and struggles to depart;
And deeper transport swells the bliss above,
As seraphs sing the triumphs of His love.
_J. K. Mitchell._

RESIGNATION.

I would seek unto God, and unto God would I commit my cause:

Which doeth great things and unsearchable; marvellous things without number.--Job, v. 8, 9.

I know, O Lord, that Thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.--Psalm cxix. 75.

If, friendless, in a vale of tears I stray,
Where briars wound, and thorns perplex my way--
Still let my steady soul Thy goodness see,
And with strong confidence lay hold on Thee;
With equal eye my various lot receive,
_Resigned_ to die, or resolute to live;
Prepared to kiss the sceptre or the rod,
While God is seen in all, and all in God.
_Mrs. Barbauld._

Thou Power supreme! whose mighty scheme,
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here firm I rest; they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want, (O do Thou grant
This one request of mine!)
Since to enjoy Thou didst deny,
Assist me to _resign_.
_Burns._

Luxury and pomp
Are but the splendid cover of distress
Rankling within; while conscience, ever gay,
And placid _resignation_ to his lot,
Cheer the poor tattered pilgrim, and derive
A flavour to his casual homely meal,
The rich man’s laboured dainties cannot yield.
_George Bally._

Yet is He there: beneath our eaves
Each sound His wakeful ear receives;
Hush idle words, and thoughts of ill,
Your Lord is listening; peace, be still.
Christ watches by a Christian’s hearth,
Be silent, vain, deluding mirth,
Till in thine altered voice be known,
Somewhat of _resignation’s_ tone.
_Keble._

REST.

Return unto thy _rest_, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.--Psalm cxvi. 7.

Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your _rest_: because it is polluted.--Micah, ii. 10.

Let us therefore fear, lest a promise being left us of entering into His _rest_, any of you should seem to come short of it.

There remaineth therefore a _rest_ to the people of God.--Hebrews, iv. 1, 9.

I pass, with melancholy state,
By all these solemn heaps of fate,
And think, as soft and sad I tread
Above the venerable dead,
“Time was, like me, they life possessed;
And time will be, when I shall _rest_.”
_Parnell._

Think not of _rest_; though dreams be sweet,
Start up, and ply your heavenward feet.
Is not God’s oath upon your head,
Ne’er to sink back on slothful bed,
Never again your loins untie,
Nor let your torches waste and die,
Till, when the shadows thickest fall,
Ye hear your Master’s midnight call?
_Keble._

Hail, heavenly voice, once heard in Patmos; “Write,
Henceforth the dead who die in Christ are blest:
Yea, saith the Spirit, for they now shall _rest_
From all their labours!” But no dull, dark night
That _rest_ o’ershadows: ’tis the day-spring bright
Of bliss; the foretaste of a richer feast;
A sleep, if sleep it be, of lively zest,
Peopled with visions of intense delight.
And though the secrets of that _resting_-place
The soul embodied knows not; yet she knows
No sin is there God’s likeness to deface,
To stint His love, no purgatorial woes;
Her dross is left behind, nor mixture base
Mars the pure stream of her serene repose.
_Bishop Mant._

Hail to the day, which He, who made the Heaven,
Earth, and their armies, sanctified and blest,
Perpetual memory of the Maker’s _rest_!
Hail to the day, when He, by whom was given
New life to man, the tomb asunder riven,
Arose! That day His church hath still confest,
At once creation’s and redemption’s feast,
Sign of a world call’d forth, a world forgiven.
Welcome that day, the day of holy peace,
The Lord’s own day! to man’s Creator owed,
And man’s Redeemer; for the soul’s increase
In sanctity, and sweet repose bestowed;
Type of the _rest_, when sin and care shall cease,
The _rest_ remaining for the lov’d of God.
_Bishop Mant._

Lord of the Sabbath, hear our vows,
On this Thy day, in this Thy house,
And own, as grateful sacrifice,
The songs which from the desert rise.

Thine earthly sabbaths, Lord, we love,
But there’s a nobler _rest_ above;
To that our labouring souls aspire,
With ardent pangs of strong desire.

No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place;
No groans to mingle with the songs
Which warble from immortal tongues.

No rude alarms of raging foes;
No cares to break the long repose;
No midnight shade, no clouded sun,
But sacred, high, eternal noon.

O long-expected day, begin,
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin!
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death to _rest_ with God.
_Dr. Doddridge._

O, _rest_ not now, but scatter wide the seeds
Of faithful words, and yet more faithful deeds;
So thou shalt _rest_ above eternally,
When God the harvest fruit shall give to thee.
_Bethune._

Not in this weary world of ours
Can perfect _rest_ be found;
Thorns mingle with its fairest flowers,
Even on cultured ground;
Earth’s pilgrim still his loins must gird
To seek a lot more blest;
And this must be his onward word--
“In Heaven alone is _rest_!”
_Bernard Barton._

He passeth calmly from that sunny morn,
Where all the buds of youth are newly born,
Through varying intervals of onward years,
Until the eve of his decline appears;
And while the shadows round his path descend,
And down the vale of age his footsteps tend,
Peace o’er his bosom sheds her soft control,
And throngs of gentlest memories charm the soul;
Then, weaned from earth, he turns his steadfast eye
Beyond the grave, whose verge he falters nigh,
Surveys the brightening regions of the blest,
And, like a wearied pilgrim, sinks to _rest_.
_Willis G. Clark._

Oh, when life’s sunset draws around me,
Closing my eventful day,
Let Thy love, O Christ, upon me
Shed its pure and spirit ray.
Up the starry steeps of even,
Let Thy spirit be my guide,
Till in the deathless light of heaven,
Lost to earth, my spirit glide.

There, where daylight ever lingers,
O’er the vernal flower-clad plains,--
There, where morning’s rosy fingers
Wreathe with light the azure main--
There, where all we dream of brightness,
Joy or peace, to make us blest,
May the wrapt soul on wings of lightness
Find _rest_, ah, yes: eternal _rest_.
_Rev. E. Case._

RESURRECTION--RISING.

Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified: he is _risen_: he is not here:--Mark, xvi. 6.

The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the grave shall hear His voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the _resurrection_ of life; and they that have done evil, unto the _resurrection_ of damnation.--John, v. 28, 29.

I am the _resurrection_ and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.--John, xi. 25, 26.

Now is Christ _risen_ from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept.

For since by man came death, by man came also the _resurrection_ of the dead.

For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.--I. Corinthians, xv. 20, 21, 22.

The waking cock, that early crows
To wear the night away,
Puts in my mind the trump that blows
Before the latter day;
And as I _rise_ up lustily,
When sluggish sleep is past,
So hope I to _rise_ joyfully
To judgment, at the last.
_George Gascoigne._

Up, and away,
Thy Saviour’s gone before,
Why dost thou stay,
Dull soul? Behold the door
Is open, and His precepts bid thee _rise_,
Whose power hath vanquished all thine enemies.

In vain thou say’st
Thou art buried with thy Saviour,
If thou delay’st
To show by thy behaviour,
That thou art _risen_ with Him. Till thou shine
Like Him, how canst thou say His light is thine.

Open thine eyes
Sin-seized soul, and see
What cobweb ties
They are that trammel thee;
Not profit, pleasure, honours, as thou thinkest,
But loss, pain, shame, at which thou vainly winkest.

All that is good
Thy Saviour dearly bought
With His heart’s blood,
And it must then be sought,
Where he keeps residence, who _rose_ this day;
Linger no longer then, up and away.
_George Herbert._

What though my body run to dust?
Faith cleaves unto it, counting every grain,
With an exact and most particular trust,
Reserving all for flesh again.
_George Herbert._

Man but dives in death;
Dives from the sun, in fairer day to _rise_;
The grave his subterranean road to bliss.
_Young._

Angels of Heaven,
Ye who beheld Him fainting on the cross,
And did Him homage, say, may mortal join
The hallelujahs of the _risen_ God?
Will the faint voice and grovelling song be heard
Amid the seraphim in light divine?
Yes, He will deign, the Prince of Peace will deign
For mercy to accept the hymn of faith,
Low tho’ it be and humble. Lord of life,
The Christ, the Comforter! thine advent now
Fills my _uprising_ soul. I mount, I fly
Far o’er the skies, beyond the rolling orbs;
The bonds of flesh dissolve, and earth recedes,
And care, and pain, and sorrow, are no more.
_Henry Kirke White._

These ashes too, the little dust
Our Father’s care shall keep,
Till the last angel _rise_ and break
The long and dreary sleep.
Then Love’s soft dew on every eye
Shall shed its mildest rays;
And the long-silent dust shall burst
With shouts of endless praise.
_Henry Kirke White._

Majestical He _rose_: trembled the earth;
The ponderous gate of stone was rolled away;
The keepers fell, the angels, awe-struck, sunk
Into invisibility, while forth
The Saviour of the world walked, and stood
Before the sepulchre, and viewed the clouds
Empurpled glorious by the _rising_ sun.
_Graham._

Jesus is _risen_! triumphal anthems sing;
Thus from dead winter mounts the sprightly spring;
Thus does the sun from night’s black shades return,
And thus the single bird wings from the Arabian urn.
Jesus is _risen_! He shall the world restore!
Awake, ye dead! dull sinners, sleep no more!
_Wesley._

Christ hath _arisen_! Oh! not one cherished head
Hath ’midst the flowery sods been pillowed here
Without a hope, (howe’er the heart hath bled
In its vain yearnings o’er the unconscious bier,)
A hope upspringing clear
From those majestic tidings of the morn,
Which lit the living way to all of woman born.
_Mrs. Hemans._

When by a good man’s grave I muse alone,
Methinks an angel sits upon the stone;
Like those of old, on that thrice-hallowed night,
Who sat and watched in raiment heavenly bright;
And with a voice inspiring joy, not fear,
Says, pointing upwards--that he is not here,
That he is _risen_.
_Samuel Rogers._

Deign from Thy glory, Saviour, now to shed
On us Thy quickening Spirit’s influence,
That, _risen_ with Thee, our hearts with strong desire
May seek the things above, and join the strain
Of seraphs that surround Thy sapphire throne,
Mingle our songs with theirs, till, in one tide
Of harmony, the pealing anthem roll
O’er the eternal hills, and waft Thy deathless fame.
_S. Stennet._

REVELATION.

The wrath of God is _revealed_ from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness;

Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them.--Romans, i. 18, 19.

Now to him that is of power to stablish you according to my gospel, and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to the _revelation_ of the mystery, which was kept secret since the world began, but now is made manifest.--Romans, xvi. 25, 26.

Gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the _revelation_ of Jesus Christ.--I. Peter, i. 13.

_Revealed_ religion first informed thy sight,
And Reason saw not till Faith sprung to light.
Hence all thy natural worship takes the source:
’Tis _Revelation_, what thou think’st discourse,
Else how com’st thou to see those truths so clear,
Which so obscure to heathens did appear.
_Dryden._

Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light,
A blaze of glory that forbids the sight;
O, teach me to believe Thee thus concealed,
And search no farther than Thyself _revealed_.
_Dryden._

Bright as the morning of primeval day
Burst on the waters of chaotic gloom,
Came _Revelation_ on the darksome world!--
Then error vanish’d in celestial truth,
Hush’d were the oracles, and quench’d the fires
That savage bigotry for ages fed:
New light, new order, new existence rose!
The pangs of woe, the wrongs of patient worth,
Were now no more, as once their truth had been:
Eternity would pay the debt of time,
The soul redeem, and justify her God.
_R. Montgomery._

Sad error this, to take
The light of Nature, rather than the light
Of _Revelation_ for a guide. As well
Prefer the borrowed light of earth’s pale moon
To the effulgence of the noon-day sun.
_David Bates._

REVENGE.

All my familiars watched for my halting, saying, Peradventure he will be enticed, and we shall prevail against him, and we shall take our _revenge_ on him.--Jeremiah, xx. 10.

Dearly beloved, _avenge_ not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath.--Romans, xii. 19.

Talk not of fame! What fame enjoyed that wretch
That slew his brother? he who could not brook
Rejection from his God, with anger fired,
With envy stung, the ties of nature burst,
And sacrificed the guiltless to _revenge_.
_C. P. Layard._

The fairest action of our human life
Is, scorning to _revenge_ an injury;
For who forgives without a further strife,
His adversary’s heart doth to him tie:
And ’tis a firmer conquest, truly said,
To win the heart, than overthrow the head.
_Lady Carew._

How rash, how inconsiderate is rage!
How wretched, O, how fatal is our error,
When to _revenge_ precipitate we run!
_Revenge_, that still with double force recoils
Back on itself, and is its own _revenge_.
While to the short-lived, momentary joy,
Succeeds a train of woes--an age of torment.
_Frowde._

A wrong _avenged_ is doubly perpetrated;
Two sinners stand, where lately stood but one.
_Thomas McKeller._

Why should man
For a hasty syllable or two,
And vented only in forgetful fury,
Chain all the hopes and riches of his soul
To the _revenge_ of that? Die lost for ever!
For he that makes his last peace with his Maker
In anger, anger is his peace eternally:
He must expect the same return again
Whose venture is deceitful.
_Rowley._

REVERENCE.

God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, and to be had in _reverence_ of all them that are about Him.--Psalm lxxxix. 7.

He sent redemption unto His people: He hath commanded His covenant for ever: holy and _reverend_ is His name.--Psalm cxi. 9.

We have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them _reverence_.--Hebrews, xii. 9.

While they pervert pure nature’s healthful rules
To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they
God’s image did not _reverence_ in themselves.
_Milton._

Eternal Spirit! grant
The wisdom meek, that lives on truth divine
However veiled. A waiting mind impart,
And in our weakness show our strength to dwell,
Like as of old the pensive Mary sat
Low at His feet, and listened to her Lord;
Absorb’d and self-renouncing, be our soul
Before the cross in docile _reverence_ bent.
_R. Montgomery._

Leaning on Him, make with _reverent_ meekness
His own, thy will;
And with strength from Him shall thy utter weakness
Life’s task fulfil;
And that cloud itself, which now before thee
Lies dark in view,
Shall with beams of light, from the inner glory,
Be stricken through.
_Whittier._

He that to his earthly parent
Pays not _reverence_ due,
To His great Almighty Father
Will be careless too:

He whose filial love is mingled
With no filial fear,
Scarcely will from sad reproaches
Keep his conscience clear.

Grant me, Lord, to duly mingle
Love and fear, that so
I _revere_ my parents earthly,
And for Thee true _reverence_ know.
_Egone._

REWARD.

Verily there is a _reward_ for the righteous.--Psalm lviii. 11.

Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the _reward_ of the wicked.--Psalm xci. 8.

Behold the Lord God will come with strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him; behold, his _reward_ is with him, and his work before him.--Isaiah, xl. 10.

To judge the unfaithful dead, but to _reward_
His faithful, and receive them into bliss.
_Milton._

Blest are the humble souls that see
Their emptiness and poverty,
Treasures of grace to them are given,
And crowns of joy laid up in heaven.

Blest are the men of broken heart,
Who mourn for sin with inward smart,
The blood of Christ divinely flows,
A healing balm for all their woes.

Blest are the souls who thirst for grace,
Hunger and long for righteousness;
They shall be well supplied, and fed
With living streams and living bread.

Blest are the sufferers, who partake
Of pain and shame for Jesus’ sake,
Their souls shall triumph in the Lord,
Glory and joy are their _reward_.
_Watts._

And I am glad that he has lived thus long,
And glad that he has gone to his _reward_:
Nor deem that kindly Nature did him wrong,
Softly to disengage the vital cord.
When his weak hand grew palsied, with his eye
Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to die.
_Wm. C. Bryant._

_Reward_ me not according to my deeds,
But give me grace to stand before Thy throne,
Clad in the robe of righteousness, which He,
The Saviour, graciously hath lent to hide
The foul and leprous taint of guilt. O grant
That His _reward_ may rescue me from death!
_Egone._

RICHES.

Labour not to be _rich_: cease from thine own wisdom.

Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for _riches_ certainly make themselves wings; they fly away as an eagle toward heaven.--Proverbs, xxiii. 4, 5.

How hardly shall they that have _riches_ enter into the kingdom of God.--Mark, x. 23.

For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was _rich_, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be _rich_.--II. Corinthians, viii. 9.

High-built abundance, heap on heap! for what?
To breed new wants, and beggar us the more;
Then make a _richer_ scramble for the throng,
Soon as this feeble pulse, which leaps so long,
Almost by miracle, is tired of play.
_Young._

All flesh is grass, and all its glory fades
Like the fair flower, dishevelled in the wind;
_Riches_ have wings, and grandeur is a dream.
_Cowper._

Nor _riches_ boast intrinsic worth,
Their charms at best superior earth:
These oft the heaven-born mind enslave,
And make an honest man a knave.
“Wealth cures my wants,” the miser cries.
Be not deceived--the miser lies:
One want he has, with all his store,
That worst of wants--the want of more.
_Cotton._

My soul, with all thy weakened powers
Survey the heavenly prize!
Nor let these glittering toys of earth
Allure thy wandering eyes.

The joys and treasures of a day
I cheerfully resign;
_Rich_ in that large, immortal store,
Secured by grace divine.
_Doddridge._

_Riches_ are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death.
_Wordsworth._

RIGHTEOUSNESS.

But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our _righteousnesses_ are as filthy rags.--Isaiah, lxiv. 6.

We do not present our supplications before Thee for our _righteousnesses_, but for thy great mercies.--Daniel, ix. 18.

For they being ignorant of God’s _righteousness_, and going about to establish their own _righteousness_, have not submitted themselves unto the _righteousness_ of God.--Romans, x. 3.

Ay me! how many perils do enfold
The _righteous_ man, to make him daily fall!
Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold,
And steadfast truth acquit him out of all.
_Spenser._

Lord, grant my just request; O hear my cry,
And prayers that lips untouched by guile unfold,
My cause before Thy high tribunal try,
And let Thine eyes my _Righteousness_ behold.

For impious men, and such as deadly hate
My guiltless soul, have compassed me about;
Who swell with pride, enclosed in their own fate,
And words of contumely thunder out.

Filled with Thy secret treasure, to Thy race,
They their accumulated riches leave!
But I with _righteousness_ shall see Thy face;
And rising in Thy image, joy receive.
_Sandys._

What is all _righteousness_ that men devise?
What, but a sordid bargain for the skies?
But Christ as soon would abdicate His own,
As stoop from Heaven to sell the proud a throne.
_Cowper._

All hail!--the age of crime and suffering ends;
The reign of _righteousness_ from Heaven descends;
Vengeance for ever sheathes the afflicting sword!
Death is destroyed, and Paradise restored;
Man, rising from the ruins of his fall,
Is one with God, and God is All in all.
_James Montgomery._

RIVERS.

There is a _river_, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy places of the tabernacles of the Most High.--Psalm xlvi. 4.

All the _rivers_ run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the _rivers_ come, thither they return again.--Ecclesiastes, i. 7.

River! _river!_ headlong _river_!
Down you dash unto the sea;
Sea, that line hath never sounded,
Sea, that voyage hath never rounded,
Like unto Eternity!
_Mrs. Southey._

I think of that great _River_
That from the throne flows free;
Of weary pilgrims on its brink,
Who, thirsting, have come down to drink;
Of that unfailing Stream I think,
When earthly streams I see!
_Mary Howitt._

_River_, beyond the rest
Thou wert supremely blest,
When Zion’s King stood in thy pearly bed;
There did the Saviour stand,
Pour by the prophet’s hand
Thy simple waves o’er His anointed head.
O Saviour! in that tide
Which from Thy pierced side
On Calvary’s mount was poured out like wine,
Cleanse my polluted soul,
The wounds of sin make whole,
And breathe Thy spirit o’er this heart of mine.
_W. H. Brownlee._

Bountiful _rivers_! not upon the earth
Is record traced of God’s exuberant grace,
So deeply graven, as the channels worn
By ever-flowing streams.
_Thomas Ward._

Oh, beautiful _river_,
Flowing so fresh and so free,
I thank the Great Giver
Of every good gift for thee.
_Egone._

ROCK.

The Lord is my _rock_.--Psalm xviii. 2.

He that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly;

He shall dwell on high: his place of defence shall be the munitions of _rocks_.--Isaiah, xxxiii. 15, 16.

Behold, I lay in Sion a stumbling-stone and _rock_ of offence: and whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed.--Romans, ix. 33.

God, known in Hebron, and by Kedar’s hill,
His glory to those _rocks_ was once laid bare;
Upon the mountain top we seek Thee still,
Lord, tell us whether Thou art there?

Ye peaceful dwellers in these blest retreats;
As at the foot of mountains Israel prayed,
For tranquil nights, and on your _rocky_ seats
Are sounds to you from heav’n conveyed?

Never behold ye the celestial bands
Upon your sacred domes alight and bend?
Never the harpings hear of angel-hands,
Back from the _rocks_ their echoes send?
_Rev. W. Pulling, from Lamartine._

_Rock_ of ages! cleft for me!
Let me hide myself in thee!
Let the water and the blood
From thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.

While I draw this fleeting breath
When my eyelids close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on thy judgment throne,
_Rock_ of ages shelter me!
Let me bide myself in thee!
_Toplady._

As the shade of a _rock_ in a weary land
Whence gush the fresh waters at thy command;
As a _rocky_ foundation whereon to build,
As a fortress of _rock_ when the foe is afield,
Such Maker and Saviour of man art thou,
Our fortress, our _rock_, and our shield below.
_Egone._

ROD.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy _rod_ and Thy staff they comfort me.--Psalm xxiii. 4.

I will cause you to pass under the _rod_.--Ezekiel, xx. 37.

The Lord’s voice crieth unto the city, and the man of wisdom shall see thy name: hear ye the _rod_, and who hath appointed it.--Micah, vi. 9.

Give me the voice of mirth, the sound of laughter,
The sparkling glance of pleasure’s roving eye,
The past is past,--Avaunt thou dark hereafter!
“Come, eat and drink--to-morrow we must die!”

So, in his desperate mood, the fool hath spoken--
The fool whose heart hath said, “There is no God.”
But for the stricken heart, the spirit broken,
There’s balm in Gilead yet.--The very _rod_,

If we but kiss it, as the stroke descendeth,
Distilleth balm to allay the inflicted smart,
And “Peace that passeth understanding,” blendeth
With the deep sighing of the contrite heart.
_Caroline Bowles._

He who each bitter cup rejects,
No living spring shall quaff;
He whom Thy _rod_ in love corrects,
Shall lean upon Thy staff:
Happy, thrice happy, then, is he,
Who knows the chastening is from Thee!
_Bernard Barton._

Faith and hope
Will teach me how to bear my lot;
To think Almighty Wisdom best,
To bow my head and murmur not.
The chastening hand of One above
Falls heavy, but I kiss the _rod_:
He gives the wound, and I must trust
Its healing to the self-same God.
_Eliza Cook._

SABBATH.

Remember the _Sabbath_ day to keep it holy.--Exodus, xx. 8.

Thus saith the Lord, Keep ye judgment, and do justice: for my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to be revealed.

Blessed is the man that doeth this, and the son of man that layeth hold on it: that keepeth the _Sabbath_ from polluting it, and keepeth his hand from doing any evil.--Isaiah, lvi. 1, 2.

The _Sabbath_ was made for man, and not man for the _Sabbath_.

Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the _Sabbath_.--Mark, ii. 27, 28.

Great Lord of time! Great King of Heav’n,
Since weekly Thou renew’st my days,
To Thee shall daily thanks be giv’n,
And weekly sacrifice of praise.

This day the light, time’s eldest born,
Her glorious beams did first display,
And then the evening and the morn
Did first obtain the name of day.

Discretion grant me so to know
What _Sabbath_-rites Thou dost require,
And grace my duty so to do,
That I may keep Thy law entire.
_George Wither._

Bright shadows of true rest! some shoots of bliss;
Heaven once a week;
The next world’s gladness pre-possessed in this.
_Henry Vaughan._

How many blessed groups this hour are bending
Through England’s primrose meadow paths, their way
Towards spire and tower, ’midst shadowy elms descending,
Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed day.
The halls from old heroic ages grey,
Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low,
With whose thick orchard blooms the soft winds play,
Send out their inmates in a happy flow,
Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread
With them those pathways--to the feverish bed
Of sickness bound--yet oh my God! I bless
Thy mercy, that with _Sabbath_ peace hath filled
My chastening heart, and all its throbbings stilled
To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.
_Mrs. Hemans._

The cheerful _Sabbath_ bells, wherever heard,
Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice
Of one who from the far off hills proclaims
Tidings of good to Zion.
_Charles Lamb._

The _Sabbath_ bell,
That over wood, and wild, and mountain-dell
Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy
With sounds most musical, most melancholy.
_Samuel Rogers._

Ah! why should a thought of a world that is flying,
Encumber the pleasure of seasons like these?
Or, why should the _Sabbath_ be sullied with sighing,
While Faith the bright side of eternity sees!

Now let us repose from our care and our sorrow,
Let all that is anxious and sad pass away;
The rough cares of life lay aside till to-morrow,
But let us be tranquil and happy to-day.

Let us say to the world, should it tempt us to wander,
As Abraham said to his men on the plain,
There’s the mountain of prayer, I am going up yonder,
And tarry you here till I seek you again.

To-day on that mount we would seek for Thy blessing,
O Spirit of Holiness meet with us there!
Our hearts then will feel, Thine high influence possessing,
The sweetness of praise, and the favour of prayer.
_James Edmeston._

’Tis past! no more the Summer blooms!
Ascending in the rear,
Behold, congenial Autumn comes,
The _Sabbath_ of the year!
What time thy holy whispers breathe,
The pensive evening shade beneath,
And twilight consecrates the floods;
While nature strips her garment gay,
And wears the verdure of decay,
O, let me wander through the sounding woods!
_Logan._

When through the peaceful parish swells
The music of the _Sabbath_ bells,
Duly tread the sacred road
Which leads you to the house of God;
The blessing of the Lamb is there,
For “God is in the midst of her.”
_Bishop Mant._

Whether men sow or reap the fields,
Her admonitions nature yields;
That not by bread alone we live,
Or what a hand of flesh can give;
That every day should leave some part
Free for a _Sabbath_ of the heart;
So shall the seventh be truly blest,
From morn to eve with hallowed rest.
_Wordsworth._

On the seventh day reposing, lo! the great Creator stood,
Saw the glorious work accomplished,--saw and felt that it was good;
Heaven, earth, man, and beast have being, day and night their
courses run,--
First creation,--infant manhood,--earliest _Sabbath_,--it is done.

On the seventh day reposing, Jesus filled His sainted tomb,
From His spirit’s toil retreating, while He broke man’s fatal doom;
’Twas a new creation bursting, brighter than the primal one,--
’Tis fulfilment,--reconcilement; ’tis redemption,--it is done.
_Da Costa._

The All-beneficent
Cares for man’s better nature, and has given
This _Sabbath_-rest to lead his thoughts to Heaven.
Myriads of thanks for this divinest gift,
For this perpetually recurring day--
Wherein both rich and poor--bond--free--can lift
Their hopes above this fading world, and pray.
_E. J. Eames._

The solemn tolling of the _Sabbath_ bell
Hath something in it holier than of earth;
And when loud anthems to Jehovah swell,
The spirit longeth for a heavenly birth;
And, catching impulse from the good man’s prayer,
The heart is softened to contrition there.
_Isaac F. Shepard._

With silent awe I hail the sacred morn,
Which slowly wakes while all the fields are still;
A soothing calm on every breeze is borne,
A graver murmur gurgles from the rill,
An echo answers softer from the hill,
And softer sings the linnet from the thorn,
The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill:
Hail, light serene! Hail, sacred _Sabbath_ morn!
The rooks float by in silent, airy drove;
The sun a placid yellow lustre shows;
The gales that lately sighed along the grove,
Have hushed their downy wings in dead repose;
The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move:
So smiled the day, when the first morn arose!
_Dr. Leyden._

Yes! blessed _Sabbath_ morn, thy light
Is affluent in pure delight
To those who love thy rest;
Beyond thy sun, a heavenly ray
Adds moral lustre to the day,
And shines into the breast.
_J. K. Mitchell._

Too soon our earthly _Sabbaths_ end!
Cares of a work-day will return,
And faint our hearts, and fitful, burn:
O, think, my soul, beyond compare,
Think what a _Sabbath_ must be there;
Where all is holy bliss, that knows
Nor imperfection, nor a close.
_Thomas Grinfield._

It is the _Sabbath_, O my soul
Own its divine and potent sway;
Let it each sinful thought control,
For thee, for that, was blest this day.
_Anon._

SACRIFICE.

For thou desirest not _sacrifice_: else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering.

The _sacrifices_ of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart. O God, thou wilt not despise--Psalm li. 16, 17.

I will offer to thee the _sacrifice_ of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord.--Psalm cxvi. 17.

For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sins.

Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith, _Sacrifice_, and offering thou wouldst not, but a body hast thou prepared me.--Hebrews, x. 4, 5.

See where man’s voluntary _sacrifice_
Bows His meek head, the God eternal dies!
Fixed to the Cross His bleeding arms are bound,
While copious Mercy streams from every wound.
_Bishop Louth._

Thou, Lord, hast said, “the blood of goats,
The flesh of rams I will not prize;--
A contrite heart, a lowly thought,
Are mine accepted _sacrifice_.”
_Sir W. Scott._

When all the breast is pure, each warm desire
Sublimed by holy Love’s ethereal fire,
On winged words our breathing thoughts may rise,
And soar to Heaven, a grateful _sacrifice_.
_James Scott._

Well may the cavern depths of earth
Be shaken and her mountains nod;
Well may the sheeted dead come forth
To gaze upon a suffering God!
Well may the temple-shrine grow dim,
And shadows veil the Cherubim,
When He, the chosen One of Heaven,
A _sacrifice_ for guilt is given!
_J. G. Whittier._