Thus while the storm is high within
'Twixt love of Christ and fear of sin,
Who can express the soothing charm,
To feel thy kind upholding arm,

My mother Church ? and hear thee tell
Of a world lost, yet lov’d so well,
That He, by whom the angels live,
His only Son for her would give".

And doubt we yet? thou call'st again ;
A lower still, a sweeter strain ;
A voice from Mercy's inmost shrine,
The
very

breath of Love divine.

Whispering it says to each apart,
“ Come unto me, thou trembling heart';"
And we must hope, so sweet the tone,
The precious words are all our own.

Hear them, kind Saviour-hear thy spouse
Low at thy feet renew her vows;
Thine own dear promise she would plead
For us her true though fallen seed.

She pleads by all thy mercies, told
Thy chosen witnesses of old,
Love's heralds sent to man forgiven,
One from the Cross, and one from heavenk,

This, of true Penitents the chief,
To the lost spirit brings relief,
Lifting on high th' adored name :-
“ Sinners to save, Christ Jesus came'.”

That, dearest of thy bosom Friends, Into the wavering heart descends : “ What? fall'n again? yet cheerful rise", “ Thine Intercessor never dies.”

The eye

of Faith, that waxes bright Each moment by thine altar's light, Sees them e’en now: they still abide In mystery kneeling at our side;

And with them 'every spirit blest,
From realms of triumph or of rest,
From Him who saw creation's morn,
Of all thine angels eldest born,

To the poor babe, who died to-day, Take part in our thanksgiving lay, Watching the tearful joy and calm, While sinners taste thine heavenly balm.

Sweet awful hour! the only sound
One gentle footstep gliding round,
Offering by turns on Jesus' part
The Cross to every hand and heart.

Refresh us, Lord, to hold it fast;
And when thy veil is drawn at last,
Let us depart where shadows cease,
With words of blessing and of peace.

Z

HOLY BAPTISM.

WHERE is it, mothers learn their love?
In every Church a fountain springs
O’er which th' eternal Dove

Hovers on softest wings.

What sparkles in that lucid flood
Is water, by gross mortals ey'd :
But seen by Faith, 'tis blood

Out of a dear friend's side.

A few calm words of faith and prayer,
A few bright drops of holy dew,
Shall work a wonder there

Earth's charmers never knew.

O happy arms, where cradled lies,
And ready for the Lord's embrace,
That precious sacrifice,

The darling of his grace !

Blest eyes, that see the smiling gleam
Upon the slumbering features glow,
When the life-giving stream

Touches the tender brow!

Or when the holy cross is sign’d,
And the young soldier duly sworn
With true and fearless mind

To serve the Virgin-born.

But happiest ye, who seald and blest
Back to your arms your treasure take,
With Jesus' mark impress’d

To nurse for Jesus' sake:

To whom-as if in hallow'd air

Ye knelt before some awful shrine

His innocent gestures wear

A meaning half divine :

By whom Love's daily touch is seen
In strengthening form and freshening hue,
In the fix'd brow serene,

The deep yet eager view.