From thy forehead's gushing streams Till thy glowing countenance Thou the first-slain victim free First to tread the pointed road Through the deep Red sea of blood: Prince of martyrs, thee behind What a countless army wind? Thou of Virgin-mother born, 2. Behold my witness is in Heaven, and my record is on high.-JOB XVI. Why, stern of heart, and dull of ear, When full of Heaven he bids you hear, Why doom the saint to die? Behold him, where each murderous hand Upheaves the deadly stone; And Saul hath arm'd his savage band How fruitless all! for lo, on high Th' enthroned Saviour stands. Thou fail'st not, Lord, Thy liegeman true, Amidst the struggle hard, Thou art his might, his umpire Thou, And Thou his great reward. Nor recks he aught the 'whelming shower, Full fix'd on Heaven and Thee: Where Thou art Judge, and Thine the power, To die is victory. From Thy full fount his raptur'd thought Drinks in Thy living fires; And from his mortal coil up-caught, He joins Thine Angel quires. Oh Thou, of Virgin-mother born, Jesu, all praise to Thee: All glory be to Father, Son, And Holy Spirit, Three in One, To all eternity. 3. I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you, that ye may be the children of your Father which is in Heaven.-ST. MATT. V. Holy love towards her foes In mysterious channels flows; Pleader for himself he stood: Now he falls, his eloquent blood From the ground for mercy cries, God from Heav'n His martyr heard,- Saul was granted to that cry. Thus he bow'd his drooping head, "Jesu, Lord," his offering free,— Death, kind angel, watching nigh, Thou that dealt'st thy plenteous store Now art come, a welcome guest, In thy bridal crown display'd, Thou of Virgin-mother born, |