32 Come near and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take: We lose ourselves in heaven above. ADVENT SUNDAY. Now it is high time to awake out of sleep, for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. Romans xiii. 11. AWAKE-again the Gospel-trump is blown— From year to year it swells with louder tone, Are gathering round the Judge's path, Strange words fulfill'd, and mighty works achiev'd, Awake! why linger in the gorgeous town, Speed to the eastern mount like flame, Nor wonder, should ye find your King in tears, Alas! no need to rouse them: long ago They are gone forth, to swell Messiah's show: All but hearts are there-O doom'd to prove The arrows wing'd in Heaven for Faith that will not love! Meanwhile He paces through th' adoring crowd, That o'er wild scenes of ocean-war Holds its still course in heaven afar : Even so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on, Even so, the world is thronging round to gaze On the dread vision of the latter days, Constrain'd to own Thee, but in heart Prepared to take Barabbas' part: "Hosanna" now, to-morrow "Crucify," The changeful burden still of their rude lawless cry. Yet in that throng of selfish hearts untrue Children and childlike souls are there, And Lazarus waken'd from his four days' sleep, And fast beside the olive-border'd way Stands the bless'd home, where Jesus deign'd to stay, The peaceful home, to Zeal sincere And heavenly Contemplation dear, When Martha lov'd to wait with reverence meet, Still through decaying ages as they glide, Pause where we may upon the desert road, When withering blasts of error swept the sky, On shelter'd nooks of Palestine ! Then to his early home did Love repair", And cheer'd his sickening heart with his own native air. c Arianism in the fourth century. d See St. Jerome's Works, i. 123. edit. Erasm. Years roll away again the tide of crime Has swept thy footsteps from the favour'd clime. On a crown'd monarch's mailed breast: Like some bright angel o'er the darkling scene, Through court and camp he holds his heavenward course serene. A fouler vision yet; an age of light, Light without love, glares on the aching sight: Meek Walton! shews thy green retreat, Thus bad and good their several warnings give Counts them like minute bells at night, ? Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn, But what are heaven's alarms to hearts that cower e St. Louis in the tenth century. That draw their curtains closer round, The nearer swells the trumpet's sound? Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die, Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee nigh. SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up and lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh. St. Luke xxi. 28. NOT till the freezing blast is still, Till freely leaps the sparkling rill, A mother's kiss; ere calls like these, Why then, in sad and wintry time, Her heavens all dark with doubt and crime, |