None holier than the Desert priest
Beneath the Law's dim sky,

Yet in Heaven's kingdom with the least,
We read, he might not vie.

No member, yet, of Christ the Son,
No Gospel prophet he;
Only a voice from out the throne
Of dread yet blest decree.

If he confessed, nor dared deny,

Woe to that Christian's heart

Who in man's praise would walk on high, And steal his Saviour's part!

And ah! to him what tenfold woe,

Who hides so well his sin,

Through earth he seems a saint to go,
Yet dies impure within!

Pray we our Lord, one pang to send
Of deep, remorseful fear

For every smile of partial friend;-
Praise be our penance here!

SONNET.

67

SONNET.

SACRED OFFERING.

Matthew, Chapter iv.

UPON the mountain's height he stood,- below, The kingdoms of the world around him spread Their glories to his view. The Tempter said, "Fall down and worship me; I will bestow Upon thee all these things." "Hence! thou shalt

bow

To God alone!" replied the Holy One;

"Him only shalt thou serve. - Satan, begone!" Awed by the voice divine, and threatening brow, The Tempter instant fled, and, borne on wing

Of love, the ministering angels come

In robes of light, and heaven's immortal bloom, Aid from above with gentle hands to bring; And shall we tremble on our high career, When He who guarded Jesus still is near?

CANA.

J. F. CLARKE.

DEAR Friend! whose presence in the house,
Whose gracious word benign,
Could once, at Cana's wedding feast,

Change water into wine,

Come, visit us, and when dull work
Grows weary, line on line,
Revive our souls, and make us see
Life's water glow as wine.

Gay mirth shall deepen into joy,
Earth's hopes shall grow divine,
When Jesus visits us, to turn
Life's water into wine.

The social talk, the evening fire,
The homely household shrine,
Shall glow with angel visits when
The Lord pours out the wine.

For when self-seeking turns to love,
Which knows not mine and thine,

The miracle again is wrought,

And water changed to wine.

SONNET.

69

SONNET.

SACRED OFFERING.

Luke, Chapter iv.

He stood within the Temple; on his brow
Sat heavenly wisdom, and his Father's love;
The holy book before him; and below,

The people round their gracious Saviour move; The page, with great Isaiah's vision fraught,

Then with a voice divine the Master read: "The spirit of the Lord is on me, - taught

To preach the Gospel to the poor, and led By Him to heal the broken heart, to preach Deliverance to the captives, to the blind Restore their sight again; and I must reach

Aid to the bruised ones, and their chains un

bind."

O words of love and mercy! still shall rest
Thy spirit, Jesus, in thy follower's breast.

THE IMAGE OF THE EARTHY.

T. H. GILL.

O MEAN may seem this house of clay,
Yet 't was the Lord's abode;

Our feet may mourn this thorny way,
Yet here Emmanuel trod.

This fleshly robe the Lord did wear,
This watch the Lord did keep,
These burdens sore the Lord did bear,
These tears the Lord did weep.

This world the Master overcame,
This death the Lord did die;
O vanquished world! O glorious shame!
O hallowed agony!

O vale of tears, no longer sad,
Wherein the Lord did dwell!
O holy robe of flesh, that clad
Our own Emmanuel!

Our very frailty brings us near
Unto the Lord of heaven;
To every grief, to every tear,

Such glory strange is given.