Chapter VI: Part 6

And if a heavy cloud, opaque at night,
In which the sun may seem embodied,
Deprived of all its dregs we see so white,
Burning in liquid gold its watery head,
Or round with ivory edges silvered;
What lustre supereminent will HE
Lighten on those who shall his sunshine see
In that all-glorious _court_, in which all glories be.
_Giles Fletcher._

Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares,
Anxious sighs, untimely tears.
Fly, fly to _courts_;
Fly to fond worldlings’ sports,
Where strain’d sardonic smiles are glossing still,
And grief is forced to laugh against her will;
Where mirth’s but mummery;
And sorrows only real be!
_Sir Walter Raleigh._

COVENANT--RAINBOW.

And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me.

But with thee will I establish my _covenant_.--Genesis, vi. 13, 18.

And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud.

And I will remember my _covenant_, which is between me and you, and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh.--Genesis, ix. 14, 15.

Know therefore that the Lord thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth _covenant_ and mercy with them that love Him and keep His commandments to a thousand generations.--Deuteronomy, vii. 9.

For if that first _covenant_ had been faultless, then should no place have been sought for the second.--Hebrews, viii. 7.

Still young and fine, but what is still in view,
We slight as old and soil’d, though fresh and new;
How bright wert thou when Shem’s admiring eye
Thy burnished flaming arch did first descry;
When Zarah, Nahor, Haran, Abram, Lot,
The youthful world’s grey fathers, in one knot,
Did, with intentive looks, watch every hour
For thy new light, and trembled at each shower!
When thou dost shine, darkness looks white and fair;
Forms turn to music, clouds to smiles and air;
Rain gently spreads his honey-drops, and pours
Balm on the cleft earth, milk on grass and flowers.
Bright pledge of peace and sunshine, the sure tye
Of the Lord’s hand, the object of his eye;
When I behold thee, though my light be dim,
Distant, and low, I can in thine see Him
Who looks upon thee from His glorious throne,
And minds the _covenant_ betwixt all and One.
_Henry Vaughan._

The _rainbow_ bending in the sky,
Bedecked with sundry hues,
Is like the seat of God on high,
And seems to tell these news:--
That as, thereby, He promised
To drown the world no more,
So, by the blood which Christ has shed,
He will our souls restore.
_George Gascoigne._

When Science from Creation’s face
Enchantment’s veil withdraws,
What lovely visions yield their place,
To cold material laws!

And yet, fair _bow_, no fabling beams,
But words of the Most High,
Have told why first thy robe of beams
Was woven in the sky.

When o’er the green undeluged earth,
Heaven’s _covenant_ thou didst shine,
How came the world’s grey fathers forth,
To watch thy sacred sign!

And when the yellow lustre smiled
O’er mountains yet untrod,
Each mother held aloft her child,
To bless the _bow_ of God.

Methinks, thy jubilee to keep,
The first-made anthem rang
On earth delivered from the deep,
And the first poet sang.

Nor ever shall the Muse’s eye,
Unraptured greet thy beam:
Theme of primeval prophecy,
Be still the poet’s theme!
_Campbell._

_Bow_ in the cloud, what token dost thou bear?
--That justice still cries “strike,” and mercy “spare.”
_J. Montgomery._

Such thou hast shone, bright _rainbow_! when the sky
Has clothed in clouds its blue serenity;
And such shall shine, while, grateful for the vow.
All nations of the earth to heaven shall bow.
Curbing the tempest on its thunder path,
Chaining the boisterous billows in their wrath;
Majestic symbol of their Maker’s might!
Girdle of beauty! coronal of light!
God’s own blest handmark, mystic, sure, sublime,
Graven in glory to the end of time!
_Anon._

CREATION.

In the beginning, God _created_ the heavens and the earth.--Genesis, i. 1.

Let them praise the name of the Lord: for He commanded, and they were _created_.--Psalm cxlviii. 5.

Remember now thy _Creator_ in the days of thy youth.--Ecclesiastes, xii. 1.

Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath _created_ these things.

Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the _Creator_ of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?--Isaiah, xl. 26, 28.

Have we not all one father? hath not one God _created_ us?--Malachi, ii. 10.

Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for Thou hast _created_ all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were _created_.--Revelation, iv. 11.

Here finished he, and all that he had made
Viewed, and behold all is entirely good;
So even and morn accomplished the sixth day;
Yet not till the _Creator_ from his work
Desisting, though unwearied, up returned,
Up to the heaven of heavens his high abode,
Thence to behold his new _created_ world,
Th’ addition of his empire, how it showed
In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair,
Answering his great idea. Up he rode,
Followed by acclamation, and the sound
Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned
Angelic harmonies; the earth, the air,
Resounded,
The heavens and all the constellations rang,
The planets in their stations listening stood,
While the bright pomp ascended jubilant:--
Open, ye everlasting gates, they sang,
Open, ye heavens, your everlasting doors; let in
The great _Creator_ from his work returned
Magnificent, his six days’ work--a world.
_Milton._

My heart is awed within me, when I think
Of the great miracle that still goes on,
In silence, round me--the perpetual work
Of thy _creation_, finished, yet renewed
For ever.
_W. C. Bryant._

From the throne of the Highest the mandate came forth,
From the word of Omnipotent God;
And the elements fashioned his footstool the earth,
And the Heavens his holy abode:
And his Spirit moved over the fathomless flood
Of waters that fretted in darkness around,
Until at his bidding, their turbulent mood
Was hushed to a calm, and obedient they stood
Where he fixed their perpetual bound.

From the work of _creation_, which rose by his word,
When finished the heavens and the earth;
On the seventh day rested th’ Omnipotent Lord,
As he looked on each beautiful birth:--
On the firmament, stretched from the east to the west,
On the far flowing sea, and the fast teeming land,
And he saw they were good, and the Sabbath was blest,
The Sabbath! the sanctified season of rest
To the _creatures_ that came from his hand.
_Knox._

Mysterious power! which guides by night
Through darkest wood the illumined sight;
Which prompts them, by the unerring smell,
The appointed prey’s abode to tell;
Bore with long bill the investing mould,
And feel, and from the secret hold
Dislodge the reptile spoil! But who
Can look _Creation’s_ volume through,
And not fresh proofs, at every turn,
Of the _Creator’s_ mind discern:
The end to which his actions tend,
The means adapted to the end,
The reasoning thought, the effective skill,
And, ruling all, the Almighty will.
_Bishop Mant._

In the Beginning primal darkness flung
Her veil o’er chaos, void and formless all;
The brooding Spirit o’er the waters hung;
The father’s fiat moved the empty pall:
“Let there be Light!” Forthwith _Creation_ sprung
Glad into being. Thy _Creating_ Love,
Lord, I believe! Mine unbelief remove.
_H. H. Weld._

CROWN.

In that day shall the Lord of Hosts be for a _crown_ of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of his people.--Isaiah, xxviii. 5.

Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize?

Now they do it to obtain a corruptible _crown_; but we an incorruptible.--I. Corinthians, ix. 24, 25.

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

Henceforth there is laid up for me a _crown_ of righteousness.--II. Timothy, iv. 7, 8.

They who die in Christ are bless’d--
Ours be, then, no thought of grieving!
Sweetly with their God they rest,
All their toils and troubles leaving:
So be ours the faith that saveth,
Hope that every trial braveth,
Love that to the end endureth,
And, through Christ, the _crown_ secureth!
_Bishop Doane._

The way to bliss lies not on bed of down,
And he that had no cross deserves no _crown_.
_Quarles._

How much do they mistake, how little know
Of kings, and kingdoms, and the pains which flow
From royalty, who fancy that a _crown_,
Because it glistens, must be lin’d with down.
With outside show, and vain appearance caught,
They look no further, and by folly taught,
Prize high the toys of thrones, but never find
One of the many cares which lurk behind.
The gem they worship, which a _crown_ adorns,
Nor once suspects that _crown_ is lin’d with thorns.
O might reflection folly’s place supply,
Would we one moment use her piercing eye,
Then should we know what woe from grandeur springs,
And learn to pity, not to envy kings.
_Churchill._

CROSS--CRUCIFIXION.

And he that taketh not his _cross_, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.--Matthew, x. 38.

Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let Him be _crucified_.

And the governor said, Why, what evil hath He done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let Him be _crucified_.--Matthew, xxxvii. 22, 23.

For the preaching of the _cross_, is to them that perish, foolishness; but unto us, which are saved, it is the power of God.--I. Corinthians, i. 18.

But we preach Christ _crucified_, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness;

But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.--I. Corinthians, i. 23, 24.

I am _crucified_ with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.--Galatians, ii. 20.

But God forbid that I should glory, save in the _cross_ of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is _crucified_ unto me, and I unto the world.--Galatians, vi. 14.

Now my frail bark through this tempestuous flood
Is steered, and full in view that port is seen,
Where all must answer what their course has been,
And every work be tried if bad or good.
Now do those lofty dreams, my fancy’s brood,
Which made of art an idol and a queen,
Melt into air; and now I feel, how keen!
That what I needed most I most withstood.
Ye fabled joys, ye tales of empty love,
What are ye now if two-fold death be nigh?
The first is certain, and the last I dread.
Ah! what does sculpture, what does painting prove,
When we have seen the _cross_, and fixed our eye
On him whose arms of love were thus outspread.
_From the Italian of Michael Angelo._

My trust is in the _Cross_, there lies my rest,
My fast, my sole delight.
Let cold-mouthed Boreas, or the hot-mouthed East,
Blow till they burst with spite;
Let earth and hell conspire their worst, their best,
And join their twisted might;
Let showers of thunderbolts dart round and round me,
And troops of fiends surround me:
All this may well confront; all this shall ne’er confound me.
_Francis Quarles._

Christ, when he died,
Denied the _cross_,
And on death’s side,
Threw all the loss:
The captive world awak’d and found
The prisoners loose, the jailor bound.

O dear and sweet dispute,
’Twixt death’s and love’s far different fruit,
Different as far
As antidotes and poisons are:
By the first fatal tree,
Both life and liberty
Were sold and slain;
By this, they both look up and live again.

O strange mysterious strife,
Of open death and hidden life!
When on the _cross_ my kind did bleed,
Life seemed to die, death died indeed.
_Richard Crawshaw._

The sun beheld it--No, the shocking scene
Drove back his chariot: midnight veiled his face;
Not such as this; not such as nature makes;
A midnight nature shuddered to behold;
A midnight new! a dread eclipse (without
Opposing spheres.) from her Creator’s frown!
Sun! didst thou fly thy Maker’s pain? or start
At that enormous load of human guilt,
Which bowed his blessed head; o’erwhelmed his _cross_;
Made groan the centre; burst earth’s marble womb
With pangs, strange pangs! delivered of her dead?
Hell howled, and Heaven that hour let fall a tear;
Heaven wept that man might smile! Heaven bled that man
Might never die!
_Young._

My soul is caught:
Heaven’s sovereign blessings, clustering from the _cross_,
Rush on her in a throng, and close her round,
The prisoner of amaze!--In his blessed life
I see the path, and, in His death, the price,
And in His great ascent, the proof supreme
Of immortality.
_Young._

Man, know thyself; all wisdom centres there,
To none man seems ignoble but to man;
Angels that grandeur, men o’erlook, admire,
How long shall human nature be their book,
Degenerate mortal! and unread by thee?
The beam dim reason sheds, shows wonders there;
What high contents! illustrious faculties!
But the grand comment which displays at full
Our human height, scarce sever’d from divine,
By heaven composed, was publish’d on the _cross_.
_Young._

There, where the _cross_ in hoary ruin nods,
And weeping yews o’ershade the lettered stones;
While midnight silence wraps these dark abodes,
And soothes me, wand’ring o’er my kindred bones;
Let kindled fancy view the glorious morn,
When from the bursting graves the dust shall rise,
All nature smiling; and, by angels borne,
Messiah’s _cross_, far blazing o’er the skies.
_Mickle._

Hear the just law, the judgment of the skies;
He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies;
And he that will be cheated to the last,
Delusions strong as hell shall bind him fast.
But if the wanderer his mistake discern,
Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return,
Bewildered once, must he bewail his loss
For ever and for ever? No--the _cross_!
There, and there only, (though the Deist rave,
And Atheist, if earth bear so base a slave;)
There, and there only, is the power to save.
There no delusive hope invites despair;
No mockery meets you, no delusion there;
The spells and charms that blinded you before,
All vanish there, and fascinate no more.
_Cowper._

The _cross_ once seen is death to every vice:
Else He that died there suffered all His pain,
Bled, groaned, and agonized, and died, in vain.
_Cowper._

Thou who for me didst feel such pain,
Whose precious blood the _cross_ did stain,
Let not those agonies be vain.
_Roscommon._

Guide me there, for here I burn
To make my Saviour some return.
I’ll rise (if that will please thee, still,
And sure I’ve heard thee own it will;)
I’ll trace His steps and bear my _cross_,
Despising every grief and loss:
Since He, despising pain and shame,
First took up His, and did the same.
_Parnell._

How blessed the man, how fully so,
As far as man is blessed below,
Who, taking up his _cross_, essays
To follow Jesus all his days.
_Parnell._

Through _cross_ to crown! And, through the spirit’s life,
Trials untold assail with giant strength.
Good cheer! good cheer! Soon ends the bitter strife,
And thou shalt reign, in peace, with Christ, at length.
_Rosegarten._

Or if, at times, wild storms shall hover, dark,
Still fix thy gaze upon that hallowed mark
Which gilds the tempest with hope’s bow divine--
Cling to the _Cross_, and conquer in that sign.
_B. D. Winslow._

Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was love! Holy, with power,
He on the thought-benighted sceptic beamed
Manifest Godhead.
_Coleridge._

Thou palsied earth, with noon-day night o’erspread;
Thou sickening sun, so dark, so deep, so red!
Ye hovering ghosts, that throng the starless air,
Why shakes the earth? Why fades the light? Declare!
Are those His limbs, with ruthless scourges torn?
His brows, all bleeding with the twisted thorn?
His the pale form, the meek, forgiving eye,
Raised from the _cross_ in patient agony?
_Bishop Heber._

DANGER.

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in _danger_ of the judgment:

But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in _danger_ of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in _danger_ of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in _danger_ of hell fire.--Matthew, v. 21, 22.

What is _danger_
More than the weakness of our apprehension?
A poor cold part o’ the blood; whom takes it hold of?
Cowards and wicked livers; valiant minds
Were made the masters of it.
_Beaumont and Fletcher._

_Dangers_ of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the World’s deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
_Cowper._

_Dangers_ stand thick through all the ground
To push us to the tomb,
And fierce diseases wait around
To hurry mortals home.

Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this _dangerous_ road,
And if our souls be hurried hence,
May they be found with God.
_Watts._

When _dangers_ compass me around,
And unto Thee I cry,
An ark of safety will be found,
Whereto my soul may fly.

I know that my Redeemer’s hand
Will be outstretched to save,
If _dangers_ meet me on the land,
Or on the stormy wave.

And wheresoe’er my feet may go,
Though perilous the road,
My soul assured will keep, and know
That there His feet have trod.
_Egone._

DARKNESS.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and _darkness_ was upon the face of the deep.--Genesis, i. 1, 2.

Thou makest _darkness_, and it is night: wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth.--Psalm civ. 20.

The people which sat in _darkness_ saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up.--Matthew, iv. 16.

But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer _darkness_: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.--Matthew, viii. 12.

He here with us to be
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,
And chose with us a _darksome_ house of mortal clay.
_Milton._

When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And even the hope that threw
A moment’s sparkle o’er our tears
Is dimm’d and vanish’d too!

O who would bear life’s stormy doom,
Did not thy wing of love
Come brightly wafting through the gloom
One peace-branch from above!

Then sorrow touched by thee grows bright
With more than rapture’s ray,
As _darkness_ shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day.
_Moore._

’Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.

In _darkness_ and in weariness
The traveller on his way must press,
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.

Thou Framer of the light and _dark_,
Steer through the tempest thine own ark:
Amid the howling wintry sea
We are in port if we have Thee.
_Keble._

DAVID.

_David_, the son of Jesse, the man who was raised up on high, the anointed of the God of Jacob, and the sweet psalmist of Israel.--II. Samuel, xxiii. 1.

He chose _David_ also his servant, and took him from the sheep-folds:

From following the ewes great with young, he brought him to feed Jacob his people, and Israel his inheritance.--Psalm lxxviii. 70, 71.

I have found _David_ my servant; with my holy oil have I anointed him.--Psalm lxxxix. 20.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people,

And hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant _David_.--Luke, i. 68, 69.

For _David_ speaketh concerning him, I foresaw the Lord always before my face.--Acts, ii. 25.

Beauteous and bright is he among the tribes;
As when the sun attired in glistering robe
Comes dancing from his oriental gate,
And, bridegroom-like, hurls through the gloomy air
His radiant beams: such doth King _David_ show,
Crowned with the honour of his enemies’ town,
Shining in riches like the firmament,
The starry vault that overhangs the earth:
So looketh _David_, King of Israel.
_George Peele._

See Judah’s promised king bereft of all:
Driven out an exile from the face of Saul.
To distant caves the lonely wanderer flies,
To seek that peace a tyrant’s frown denies.
Hear the sweet accents of his tuneful voice;
Hear him, o’erwhelmed with sorrows, yet rejoice;
No womanish or wailing grief has part,
No, not a moment, in his royal heart;
’Tis manly music, such as martyrs make,
Suffering with gladness for a Saviour’s sake;
His soul exults; hope animates his lays;
The sense of mercy kindles into praise;
And wilds, familiar with the lion’s roar,
Ring with ecstatic sounds unheard before.
_Cowper._

And lo! the glories of the illustrious line
At their first dawn with ripened splendours shine,
In _David_ all expressed; the good, the great,
The king, the hero, and the man, complete.
Serene he sits, and sweeps the golden lyre,
And blends the prophet’s with the poet’s fire.
See, with what art he strikes the vocal strings
The God, his theme, inspiring what he sings!
_Bishop Lowth._

Thy living lyre alone, whose dulcet sounds
In gentlest murmurs floating on the air,
Could calm the fury of the woe-struck king,
And soothe the agony which pierced his heart.
Or when thou swept the master strings, and rolled’st
The deep impetuous tide along with more
Than mortal sound, could’st raise his raptured soul
To ecstacy; or from the tortured strings
Harsh discord shaking, sink him in the gulf
Of dire despair, while horror chilled his blood,
And from each pore the agonizing sweat
Distilled! that deep-toned lyre alone can sing
Thy fervent piety, thy glowing zeal.
_William Hodson._

One struggle of might, and the giant of Gath
With a crash like the oak in the hurricane’s path,
And a clangour of arms, as of hosts in the fray,
At the feet of the stripling of Ephratah lay.

A hush of amazement;--a calm as of death,
When the watcher lists long for that spasm-drawn breath,
Then a shout like the roll of artillery rose,
And the armies of Israel swept on to their foes.

For a space the Philistine had paused, as in doubt,
Ere the Israelite triumph rang gloriously out;
Then, scattering his arms on the mountains, he fled,
Till the valley of Elah was strewn with the dead.

The carnage moved on, and alone in the vale,
The Shepherd knelt down by the dead in his mail,
And there, with his arm on that still reeking sword,
Poured forth his thanksgiving in prayer to the Lord.
_Anon._

DAY.

And God called the light _Day_.--Genesis, i. 5.

The _day_ of the Lord is great and very terrible; and who can abide it?--Joel, ii. 11.

But of that _day_ and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.--Matthew, xxiv. 36.

The _dayspring_ from on high hath visited us.--Luke, i. 78.

Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the _day_ of salvation.--II. Corinthians, vi. 2.

How many hours bring about the _day_?
How many _days_ will finish up the year?
_Shakspere._

The breath of heaven, blowing pure and sweet,
With _dayspring_ born, here leaves us to respire.
_Milton._

Yet are we able only to survey
Dawnings of beams, and promises of _day_.
_Prior._

Once more, my soul, the rising _day_
Salutes my waking eyes;
Once more, my voice, thy tribute pay
To Him that rules the skies.

Night unto night His name repeats,
The _day_ renews the sound,
Wide as the heaven on which he sits,
To turn the seasons round.
_Watts._

See, where the falling _day_
In silence steals away,
Behind the western hills withdrawn;
Her fires are quench’d, her beauty fled,
With blushes all her face o’erspread,
As conscious she had ill fulfill’d
The promise of the dawn.

Another morning soon shall rise,
Another _day_ salute our eyes,
As smiling and as fair as she,
And make as many promises:
But do not thou
The tale believe.
They’re sisters all,
And all deceive.
_Barbauld._

Sudden in the sky
Stands the great sun! Like the first glorious breath
Of Freedom to the slave, like Hope upon
The hush of woe, or through the mists of death
The pardoning Angel--comes to earth the Sun.
Ice still on land--still vapour in the air,
But Light--the victor Lord--but Light is there!

On siege-worn cities, when their war is spent,
From the far hill as gleam on gleam, arise
The spears of some great aiding armament,
Grow the dim splendours, broadening up the skies;
Till, bright and brighter, the sublime array
Flings o’er the world the banners of the _Day_!
_Sir E. Bulwer Lytton._

That _day_ of wrath, that dreadful _day_,
When heaven and earth shall pass away;
What power shall be the sinner’s stay?
How will ye meet that dreadful _day_?

When shrivelling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead.

O! on that _day_, that wrathful _day_,
When man to judgment wakes from clay;
Be Thou the trembling sinner’s stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away.
_Scott._

Oh! _day_ of _days_! shall hearts set free,
No “minstrel rapture” find for thee?
Thou art the Sun of other _days_,
They shine by giving back thy rays:

Enthroned in thy sovereign sphere,
Thou shedd’st thy light on all the year,
Sundays by thee more glorious break,
An Easter _day_ in every week.

And week _days_ following in their train,
The fullness of thy blessing gain,
Till all, both resting and employ,
Be one Lord’s _day_ of holy joy.
_Keble._

DEATH.

Let me _die_ the _death_ of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!--Numbers, xxiii. 10.

But now he is _dead_, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me. II. Samuel, xii. 23.

What man is he that liveth, and shall not see _death_? Shall he deliver his soul from the hand of the grave?--Psalm lxxxix. 48.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the _death_ of His saints.--Psalm cxvi. 15.

Weep ye not for the _dead_, neither bemoan him: but weep sore for him that goeth away: for he shall return no more, nor see his native country.--Jeremiah, xxii. 10.

O _death_, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

The sting of _death_ is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.

But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.--I. Corinthians, xv. 55, 56, 57.

But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.

For if we believe that Jesus _died_ and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.--I. Thessalonians, iv. 13, 14.

Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also himself likewise took part of the same; that through _death_ He might destroy him that had the power of _death_, that is, the devil,

And deliver them who through fear of _death_ were all their lifetime subject to bondage.--Hebrews, ii. 14, 15.

Blessed are the _dead_ which _die_ in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.--Revelations, xiv. 13.

Ah, but to _die_, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice:
To be imprison’d in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and uncertain thoughts
Imagine howling! ’tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, imprisonment,
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of _death_.
_Shakspere._

O harmless _Death_! whom still the valiant brave,
The wise expect, the sorrowful invite;
And all the good embrace, who know the Grave,
A short dark passage to eternal light.
_Sir W. Davenant._

This world _death’s_ region is, the other, life’s:
And here it should be one of our first strifes,
So to front _death_, as each might judge us past it:
For good men but see _death_, the others taste it.
_Ben Jonson._

The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate:
_Death_ lays his icy hands on kings:
Sceptre and crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield,
They tame but one another still.
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to _death_.

The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds,
Upon _death’s_ purple altar now
See where the victor victim bleeds:
All heads must come
To the cold tomb:
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.
_Shirley._

He patient show’d us the wise course to steer,
A candid censor, and a friend sincere;
He taught us how to live; and (Oh! too high
The price of knowledge,) taught us how to _die_.
_Tickell._

That I must _die_, it is my only comfort;
_Death_ is the privilege of human nature,
And life without it were not worth our taking;
Thither the poor, the prisoner, and the mourner,
Fly for relief, and lay their burdens down.
Come then, and take me into thy cold arms,
Thou meagre shade; here let me breathe my last.
Charmed with my Father’s pity and forgiveness,
More than if angels tuned their golden viols,
And sung a requiem to my parting soul.
_Rowe._

_Death_ comes with irrespective feet
And beats upon the door,
That shuts the palace of the great,
The cabin of the poor.
_Howell, from Horace._

And since ’tis certain then that we must _die_,
No hope, no chance, no prospect of redress;
Be it our constant aim, unswervingly,
To tread God’s narrow path of holiness:
For He is first, last, midst--O, let us press
Onwards--and when _death’s_ monitory glance
Shall summon us to join his mortal dance,
Even then shall hope and joy our footsteps bless.
_From the Spanish of R. de Carrion._

I fled and cried out _Death_--
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed
From all her caves, and back resounded _Death_.
_Milton._

Thou dost, O _Death_, a peaceful harbour lie
Upon the margin of Eternity;
Where the rough waves of Time’s impetuous tide
Their motion lose, and quietly subside.
Weary, they roll their drowsy heads asleep
At the dark entrance of Duration’s deep.
Hither our vessels in their turn retreat;
Here still they find a safe untroubled seat,
When worn with adverse passions, furious strife,
And the hard passage of tempestuous life.
_Blackmore._

Dear, beauteous _Death_, the jewel of the just,
Shining nowhere but in the dark,
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
Could man outlook that mark!
He that hath found some fledg’d bird’s nest may know
At first sight, if the bird be flown;
But what fair field or grove he sings in now,
That is to him unknown.
_Henry Vaughan._

The man, how wise, who, sick of gaudy scenes,
Is led by choice to take his favourite walk
Beneath _death’s_ gloomy, silent cypress shades,
Unpierced by vanity’s fantastic ray!
To read his monuments, to weigh his dust,
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the tombs!
_Young._

Why should man’s high aspiring mind
Burn in him, with so proud a breath:
When all his haughty views can find
In this world, yields to _death_;
The fair, the brave, the vain, the wise,
The rich, the poor, the great, and small,
Are each, but worm’s anatomies,
To strew his quiet hall.

Power may make many earthly gods,
Where gold, and bribery’s guilt, prevails;
But _death’s_ unwelcome honest odds,
Kicks o’er the unequal scales.
The flatter’d great, may clamours raise
Of power,--and their own weakness hide;
But _death_ shall find unlooked-for ways
To end the farce of pride.

_Death_ levels all things, in his march
Nought can resist his mighty strength;
The palace proud,--triumphal arch,
Shall mete their shadow’s length:
The rich, the poor, one common bed
Shall find, in the unhonoured grave,
Where weeds shall crown alike the head
Of tyrant, and of slave.
_Andrew Marvell._

The prince, who kept the world in awe,
The judge, whose dictate fix’d the law,
The rich, the poor, the great, the small,
Are levell’d: _death_ confounds them all.
_Gay._

There was, ’tis said, and I believe, a time
When humble Christians _died_ with views sublime;
When all were ready for their faith to bleed,
And few to write or wrangle for their creed;
When lively faith upheld the sinking heart,
And friends assured to meet prepared to part;
When love felt hope, when sorrow grew serene,
And all felt comfort in the _death_-bed scene.
_Crabbe._

On this side, and on that, men see their friends
Drop off, like leaves in autumn; yet launch out
Into fantastic schemes, which the long-livers,
In the world’s hale and degenerate days,
Could scarce have leisure for: fools that we are!
Never to think of _death_, and of ourselves,
At the same time! As if, to learn to _die_,
Were no concern of ours!
_Blair._

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
Bridal of earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night,
For thou, alas! must _die_!

Sweet rose, in air whose odours wave,
And colour charms the eye,
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou, alas! must _die_!

Sweet spring, of days and roses made,
Whose charms for beauty vie;
Thy days depart, thy roses fade--
Thou, too, alas! must _die_!

Be wise, then, christian, while you may,
For swiftly time is flying;
The thoughtless man may laugh to-day,
To-morrow may be _dying_!
_Bishop Horne._

_Death_ distant!--no alas! he’s ever with us,
And shakes the dart at us in all our actings;
He lurks within our cup, while we’re in health;
Sits by our sick-bed, mocks our medicines;
We cannot walk, or sit, or ride, or travel,
But _death_ is by to seize us when he lists.
_Sir Walter Scott._

Since we can _die_ but once, and after _death_
Our state no alteration knows,
But when we have resign’d our breath,
Th’ immortal spirit goes
To endless joys, or everlasting woes;
Wise is the man who labours to secure
That mighty and important stake;
And by all methods strives to make
His passage safe, and his reception sure.
_J. Pomfret._

_Death_ rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower;
Each season has its own disease,
Its perils every hour!
Our eyes have seen the rosy light
Of youth’s soft cheek decay,
And fate descend in sudden night
On manhood’s middle day.
_Heber._

_Death_’s but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pass to God;
A port of calms, a state to ease
From the rough rage of swelling seas.
_Parnell._

Happy the babe, who, privileged by fate
To shorter labour, and a lighter weight,
Received but yesterday the gift of breath,
Ordered to-morrow to return to _Death_.
_Prior._

Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind’s breath,
And stars to set--but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O _Death_!
_Mrs. Hemans._

O what is _Death_? ’Tis life’s last shore,
Where vanities are vain no more!
Where all pursuits their goal obtain,
And life is all retouched again;
Where, in their bright results, shall rise
Thought, virtues, friendships, griefs, and joys.
_Leigh Richmond._

Cold hand, I touch thee! Perished friend! I know
What years of mutual joy are gone with thee;
And yet from those benumbed remains there flow
Calm thoughts, that best with chastened hopes agree.

How strange is _Death_ to life! and yet how sure
The law which dooms all living things to _die_!
Whate’er is outward cannot long endure,
And all that lasts, eludes the subtlest eye.
_John Sterling._

Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
_Death_ came with friendly care,
The opening bud to Heaven conveyed,
And bade it blossom there.
_Coleridge._

O _Death_! Thou great invisible,
Pale monarch of the unending Past,
Who shall thy countless trophies tell,
Or when shall be thy last!
By thee high thrones to earth are flung--
By thee the sword and sceptre rust--
By thee the beautiful and young
Lie mouldering in the dust.
Into thy cold and faded reign
All glorious things of earth depart;
The fairest forms are early slain,
And quenched the fiery heart.
But in yon world thou hast not been,
Where joy can fade, nor beauty fall:
O, mightiest of the things unseen,
Save One that ruleth all!
_Geo. H. Colton._

To _die_ is landing on some peaceful shore,
Where billows never beat, nor tempests roar,
Ere well we feel the friendly stroke ’tis o’er.
_Garth._

The air of _death_ breathes through our souls,
The _dead_ all round us lie;
By day and night the _death_-bell tolls,
And says, “Prepare to _die_!”

The loving ones we love the best,
Like music all are gone!
And the wan moonlight bathes in rest
Their monumental stone.

But not when the _death_-prayer is said,
The life of life departs;
The body in the grave is laid,
Its beauty in our hearts.
_Professor Wilson._

Sleep on, sleep on, ye resting _dead_;
The grass is o’er ye growing
In dewy greenness. Ever fled
From you hath Care; and in its stead
Peace hath with you its dwelling made,
Where tears do cease from flowing--
Sleep on!
_Robert Nicol._

All at rest now--all dust!--wave flows on wave;
But the sea dries not!--what to us the grave?
It brings no real homily; we sigh,
Pause for awhile and murmur, “all must _die_!”
Then rush to pleasure, action, sin once more,
Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore.
_Sir E. Bulwer Lytton._

Ah! it is sad when one thus link’d departs!
When _Death_, that mighty sev’rer of true hearts,
Sweeps through the halls so lately loud in mirth,
And leaves pale Sorrow weeping by the hearth!
_Mrs. Norton._

So live, that when thy summons comes,
The innumerable caravan that moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of _death_,
That thou, sustained and soothed, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
Around him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
_W. C. Bryant._

DEFENCE.

Be thou my strong rock, for an house of _defence_ to save me.--Psalm xxxi. 2.

Deliver me from my enemies, O my God: _defend_ me from them that rise up against me.--Psalm lix. 1.

Who trust in thee, O let not shame deject!
Thou ever just, my chased soule secure:
Lord lend a willing eare, with speede protect;
Be thou my rock; with thy strong arme immure.

My rock, my fortresse, for thy honour aid,
And my engaged feet from danger guide,
Pull from their subtile snares in secret laid,
O thou, my only strength, so often try’d.

O let thy face upon thy servant shine;
Save for thy mercies sake, from shame _defend_.
Shame cover those who keepe no lawes of thine,
And undeplored to the grave descend!
_Sandys._

How are thy servants blest O Lord!
How sure is their _defence_!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,
Their help omnipotence.

In midst of dangers, fears, and death,
Thy goodness I’ll adore;
And praise thee for thy mercies past,
And humbly hope for more.

My life, if thou preserv’st my life,
Thy sacrifice shall be;
And death, if death must be my doom,
Shall join my soul to Thee.
_Addison._

From common accidents of life
His care shall guard thee still;
From the blind strokes of chance, and foes
That lie in wait to kill.

At home, abroad, in peace, in war,
Thy God shall thee _defend_;
Conduct thee, through life’s pilgrimage,
Safe to thy journey’s end.
_Brady and Tate._

DELIGHT.

_Delight_ thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desire of thine heart.--Psalm xxxvii. 4.

Then I was by him, as one brought up with him; and I was daily his _delight_, rejoicing always before him; rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth; and my _delights_ were with the sons of men.--Proverbs, viii. 30, 31.

Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest; yea, he shall give _delight_ unto thy soul.--Proverbs, xxix. 17.

O voice! once heard
_Delightfully_, increase and multiply;
Now death to him.
_Milton._

Holy and reverend is the name
Of our Eternal King:
Thrice holy Lord! the angels cry;
Thrice holy let us sing.

Holy is He in all His works,
And truth is His _delight_!
But sinners and their wicked ways,
Shall perish from His sight.
_Needham._

And was the day of my _delight_
As pure and perfect as I say?
We know the very Lord of Day
Is dash’d with wandering isles of night.

If all was good and fair we met,
This earth had been a paradise;
It never look’d to human eyes
Since Adam left his garden yet.
_Tennyson._

Amid a round of vain _delights_ he lived,
And took his fill of pleasure; never thought
That life had higher objects, nobler aims
Than just to eat, and drink, and pass away
The precious hours in revelry and mirth.
Born to a priceless heritage, he went
Down to his grave, and knew it not, and all
The everlasting pleasures and _delights_
Of heaven he forfeited--great loss was his!
_Egone._

DELIVERANCE.

Thou art my King, O God: command _deliverances_ for Jacob.--Psalm xliv. 4.

_Deliver_ me, O my God, out of the hand of the wicked, out of the hand of the unrighteous and cruel man.--Psalm lxxi. 4.

And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be _delivered_: for in Mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be _deliverance_, as the Lord hath said.--Joel, ii. 32.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach _deliverance_ to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.--Luke, iv. 18.

Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell
How high our great _Deliverer_ reigns;
Sing how He spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster, Death, in chains.
_Watts._

Lord, I have put my trust in Thee,
Turn not my confidence to shame;
Thy promise is a rock to me,
A tower of refuge is Thy name.

Thou hast upheld me from the womb;
Thou wert my strength and hope in youth;
Now, trembling, bending o’er the tomb,
I lean upon Thine arm of truth.

Cast me not off in mine old age,
Forsake me not in my last hour;
The foe hath not forgone his rage,
The lion ravens to devour.

Me, through what troubles hast Thou brought!
Me, with what consolations crown’d!
Now be Thy last _deliverance_ wrought:
My soul in peace with Thee be found!
_J. Montgomery._

Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey through:
Strong _Deliverer_,
Be thou still my strength and shield.
_Oliver._

DELUSIONS.

I also will choose their _delusions_, and will bring their fears upon them; because when I called, none did answer; when I spake, they did not hear: but they did evil before mine eyes, and chose that in which I delighted not.--Isaiah, lxvi. 4.

God shall send them strong _delusion_, that they should believe a lie.--II. Thessalonians, ii. 11.

Who therefore seeks in these
True wisdom, finds her not, or by _delusion_.
_Milton._

Dreams and _delusions_ play
With man: he thinks not of his mortal fate:
Death treads his silent way;
The earth turns round, and then, too late,
Man finds no beam is left of all his fancied state.

Rise from your sleep, vain men!
Look round, and ask if spirits born of Heaven,
And bound to Heaven again,
Were only lent or given
To be in this mean round of shades and follies driven.

Turn your unclouded eye
Up to yon bright, to yon eternal spheres;
And spurn the vanity
Of time’s _delusive_ years,
And all its flattering hopes, and all its frowning fears.

What is the ground ye tread
But a mere point compared with that vast space
Around, above you spread--
Where, in the Almighty’s face,
The present, future, past, hold an eternal place?
_From the Spanish of Luis Ponce de Leon._

We walk amid _delusions_ here,
Our joys are unsubstantial things,
Though glorious our dreams appear,
They have their quick evanishings;
They cheat the sense, with vain pretence,
The heart that on them leans deceive;
_Delusive_ all, they rise and fall,
And nought but sad remembrance leave.
_Egone._

DENIAL.

Whosoever shall _deny_ me before men, him will I also _deny_ before my Father which is in heaven.--Matthew, x. 33.

Peter answered and said unto him, Though all men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended.

Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt _deny_ me thrice.

Peter said unto him, Though I should die with thee, yet will I not _deny_ thee. Likewise also said all the disciples.--Matthew, xxvi. 33, 34, 35.

I think that look of Christ might seem to say:--
“Thou, Peter! art thou then a common stone,
Which I at last must break my heart upon,
For all God’s charge to His high angels may
Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday
Wash my feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to _deny_ me, ’neath the morning sun,--
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?
The cock crows coldly,--Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy deathly need is bitterest,
Thou shalt not be _denied_, as I am here--
My voice to God and angels shall attest,--
‘Because I know this man let him go clear.’”
_Elizabeth Barrett._

She in her Saviour’s ranks had done
A veteran’s service, and with Polycarp
Might say to Death, “For more than fourscore years
He was my Lord--shall I _deny_ Him now?”
No! no! thou could’st not turn away from Him
Who was thy hope in youth, and on whose arm
The feebleness of hoary hairs were staid.
Before His Father, and the Angel host,
He will adjudge thee faithful. So farewell,
Blessed and full of days.
_Mrs. Sigourney._

Numbers before have try’d,
And found the promise true;
Nor yet one been _deny’d_,
Then why should I or you?
Let us by faith our footsteps trace,
And hasten to the throne of grace.
_John Newton._

DESIRE--DESIRES.

Lord, all my _desire_ is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee.--Psalm xxxviii. 9.

And I will shake all nations, and the _desire_ of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts.--Haggai, ii. 7.

For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a _desire_ to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better.--Philippians, i. 23.

But our _desires’_ tyrannical extortion
Doth force us there to set our chief delightfulness,
When but a baiting-place is all our portion.
_Sir P. Sidney._

Thou blind man’s mark; thou fool’s self-chosen snare,
Fond fancy’s scum, and dregs of scatter’d thought;
Band of all evils; cradle of causeless care;
Thou web of ill, whose end is never wrought,
_Desire! Desire!_ I have too dearly bought,
With price of mangled mind thy worthless ware;
Too long, too long, asleep thou hast me brought,
Who should’st my mind to higher things prepare.
_Sir P. Sidney._

_Desire_’s the vast extent of human mind,
It mounts above, and leaves poor hope behind.
_Dryden._

How large are our _desires_! and yet how few
Events are answerable! So the dew,
Which early on the top of mountains stood,
Meaning, at least, to imitate a flood;
When once the sun appears, appears no more,
And leaves that parch’d which was too moist before.
_Gomersall._

Sages leave your contemplations,
Brighter visions beam afar;
Seek the great _Desire_ of nations,
Ye have seen its natal star;
Come and worship,
Worship Christ the new-born King.
_J. Montgomery._

The _desire_ of the moth for the star--
Of the night for the morrow--
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow.
_Shelley._

DESOLATION.

Be not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the _desolation_ of the wicked, when it cometh.--Proverbs, iii. 25.

And what will ye do in the day of visitation, and in the _desolation_ which shall come from far? to whom will ye flee for help? and where will ye leave your glory?--Isaiah, x. 3.

O my God, incline thine ear, and hear; open thine eyes and behold our _desolations_, and the city which is called by thy name.--Daniel, ix. 18.

How is Babylon become a _desolation_ among the nations!--Jeremiah, l. 23.

Let us seek some _desolate_ shades, and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.
_Shakespere._

My _desolation_ does begin to make
A better life.
_Shakespere._

God hath created nights
As well as days to deck the varied globe;
Grace comes as oft clad in the dusky robe
Of _desolation_, as in white attire.
_John Beaumont._

’Tis well to be a mourner, well to feel
My glad hope die;
And sicken at the tears that daily steal
O’er the dimmed eye,
If this strong _desolation_ should reveal
Where my sins lie.
_E. L. Montague._

I sometimes deem their pleasant smiles
Still on me sweetly fall,
Their tones of love I faintly hear
My name in sadness call.
I know that they are happy
With their angel plumage on,
But my heat is very _desolate_,
To think that they are gone.
_Park Benjamin._

But this was like those sudden blasts that
Unlook’d for, wonder on the face of spring;
And worst woe for the heart, whose early fate
Leaves it so young, and, oh, so _desolate_.
_Miss Landon._

DESTRUCTION.

Is not _destruction_ to the wicked? and a strange punishment to the workers of iniquity?--Job, xxxi. 3.

O thou enemy, _destructions_ are come to a perpetual end; and thou hast _destroyed_ cities; their memorial is perished with them.--Psalm ix. 6.

Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to _destruction_, and many there be which go in thereat.--Matthew, vii. 13.

’Tis safer far to be that which we _destroy_,
Than by _destruction_ swell in doubtful joy.
_Shakspere._

What a scene of misery
Hath thine obdurate frowardness, old man,
Drawn on thy country’s bosom! and, for that,
Thy proud ambition could not mount so high
As to be styled thy country’s only patron;
Thy malice hath descended to the depth
Of hell, to be renowned in the title
Of her _destroyer_.
_Beaumont and Fletcher._

To _destruction_, sacred and devote,
He with his whole posterity must die.
_Milton._

Thus saith the righteous Lord,
My vengeance shall unsheath the flaming sword,
O’er all thy realms my fury shall be poured.
Where yon proud city stood,
I’ll spread the stagnant flood!
And there the bittern in the sedge shall lurk,
Moaning with sullen strain,
While sweeping o’er the plain,
_Destruction_ ends her work.
_Mason._

While like a tide our minutes flow,
The present and the past,
He fills his own immortal now,
And sees our ages waste.

The sea and sky must perish too,
And vast _destruction_ come;
The creatures--look, how old they grow,
And wait their fiery doom!
_Watts._

DEVOTION--DEVOUT.

No _devoted_ thing, that a man shall _devote_ unto the Lord of all that he hath, both of man and beast, and of the field of his possession, shall be sold or redeemed: every _devoted_ thing is most holy unto the Lord.--Leviticus, xxvii. 28.

A _devout_ man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway.--Acts, x. 2.

For as I passed by, and beheld your _devotions_, I found an altar with this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.--Acts, xvii. 23.

An aged holy man,
That day and night said his _devotion_,
No other worldly business did apply.
_Spenser._

One grain of incense with _devotion_ offer’d,
’S beyond all perfumes or Sabæan spices,
By one that proudly thinks he merits it.
_Massinger._

I fly
Those wicked tents _devoted_, lest the wrath
Impendent, raging into sudden flame,
Distinguish not.
_Milton._

In vain doth man the name of just expect,
If he _devotion_ to his God neglect.
_Denham._