Grant, Lord, that so to Thee we turn,
That we to die thro' life may learn,
And after this brief life with Thee,
May find a glad eternity.
Saint John Baptist's Day.
Lo! from the desert homes,
Where he hath hid so long,
The new Elias comes,
In sternest wisdom strong.
The voice that cries
Of Christ from high,
And judgment nigh
From opening skies!
Your God e'en now doth stand
Within heaven's opening door;
His fan is in His hand,
And He will purge His floor.
The wheat He claims,
And with Him stores;
The chaff He throws
To deathless flames.
May his dread voice around,
The harbinger of light,
On our dull ears still sound,
Lest here we sleep in night,
Till judgment come,
And on our path
Shall burst the wrath
And deathless doom!
CREATOR of the rolling flood!
In Whom Thy people hope alone; Who cam'st by Water and by Blood, For man's offences to atone :
Who from the labours of the deep
Didst set Thy servant Peter free,
To feed awhile Thy chosen sheep,
And die a martyr's death for Thee.
Grant us, O Lord, in joy or pain,
To hold the faith which He confess'd,
To count all loss for Thee as gain,
And in Thy Church's fold to rest:
And when, our life-long toil to crown,
Thy call shall set the spirit free,
To cast with joy our burden down,
And rise, O Lord, and follow Thee.
SERVANTS of Christ, His truth who know,
Forth on your glorious warfare go,
Strong in your Savior's Name and might;
Daily take up the hallow'd cross,
And, counting all beside as dross,
Beneath its sacred banner fight.
Above the world, its smile or frown,
On all its vanities look down,
Its wealth and pleasure, power and state:
The man who dares the world despise,
The righteous, he alone is wise;
The righteous, he alone is great.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God Whom heaven's triumphant host,
And suff'ring saints on earth adore,
Be glory; as in ages past,
As now it is, and so shall last
When time itself shall be no more.
Saint Bartholomew the Apostle.
How bless'd are they whose hearts are pure,
Whose minds from guile are free;
To them shall God Himself reveal,
They shall His glory see.
Their simple souls upon His word,
In fullest light of love,
Place all their trust, and ask no more
Than guidance from above.
Who in meek faith unmix'd with doubt,
Th' engrafted word receive;
Whom the first proof of heavenly power
Persuades, and they believe.
They, as they walk the painful world,
See hidden glories rise;
Our God the brightness of His love
Unfolds before their eyes.
For them far greater things than these
Doth Christ the Lord prepare;
Whose bliss no heart of man can reach,
No human voice declare.
Saint Matthew the Apostle.
JESUS calls us, in the tumult
Of our life's wild restless sea,
Day by day His sweet voice soundeth,
Saying, Christian, follow Me.
As, of old, Saint Matthew heard it
By the Galilean lake,
Turn'd from home, and place, and kindred,
Leaving all for His dear sake.
Jesus calls us from the worship
Of the vain world's golden store,
From each idol that beguiles us,
Saying, Christian, love Me more.
In our joys, and in our sorrows,
Days of toil, and hours of ease,
Still He calls, 'mid cares and pleasures,
Christian, love Me more than these.
Jesus calls us; by Thy mercies,
Savior, may we hear Thy call,
Give our hearts to Thy obedience,
Serve and love Thee best of all.
Saint Michael and All Angels.
AROUND the throne of God a band
Of bright and glorious angels stand;
Sweet harps within their hands they hold,
And on their heads are crowns of gold.
Some wait around Him, ready still
To sing His praise and do His will;
And some, when He commands them, go
To guard His servants here below.
Lord, give Thy angels every day
Command to guide us on our way;
And bid them every evening keep
Their watch around us while we sleep.
And at the last may they be nigh
On golden pinions from on high,
To bear the parted spirit home,
And place us near Thy glorious throne.
WHERE angelic hosts adore Thee,
Thou, O God, in heaven dost reign;
At Thy Word they rose around Thee,
And Thy Word doth them sustain.
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