And wheresoe'er, in earth's wide field, TRINITY SUNDAY. If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? St. John iii. 12. CREATOR, Saviour, strengthening Guide, Now on Thy mercy's ocean wide Help us, each hour, with steadier eye The blessed angels look and long Along the Church's central space The sacred weeks with unfelt pace Have borne us on from grace to grace. As travellers on some woodland height, When wintry suns are gleaming bright, Lose in arch'd glades their tangled sight ; By glimpses such as dreamers love Through her grey veil the leafless grove Shews where the distant shadows rove ; Such trembling joy the soul o'er-awes The door is clos'd-but soft and deep Such airs as soothe a hermit's sleep. From each carv'd nook and fretted bend Cornice and gallery seem to send Tones that with seraph hymns might blend. Three solemn parts together twine Three solemn aisles approach the shrine: Yet all are One-together all, In thoughts that awe but not appal, Within these walls each fluttering guest Is gently lur'd to one safe nestWithout, 'tis moaning and unrest. The busy world a thousand ways Why tarries not her chariot wheel, Alas! for her Thy opening flowers N What echoes from the sacred dome That will not hear of love or home? The heart that scorn'd a father's care, Or how shall envious brethren own How shall thy Spirit's gracious wile That frowns on sweet affection's smile? Eternal One, Almighty Trine! (Since Thou art ours, and we are Thine) By all thy love did once resign, By all the grace thy heavens still hide, We pray thee, keep us at thy side, Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide! FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. So Joshua smote all the country, and all their kings; he left none remaining. Joshua x. 40. WHERE is the land with milk and honey flowing, The promise of our God, our fancy's theme? Here over shatter'd walls dank weeds are growing, And blood and fire have run in mingled stream; Like oaks and cedars all around The giant corses strew the ground, And haughty Jericho's cloud-piercing wall These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even, Soft slumbers in the open eye of heaven, Which every hour dread warning give, |