There with pearls the gates are dight Upon that Holy Mountain;

And thither come both day and night,
Who in the Living Fountain

Have washed their robes from earthly stain,
And borne below Christ's lowly chain.

By the hand of the Unknown
The Living Stones are moulded
To a glorious Shrine, ALL ONE,
Full soon to be unfolded:

The building wherein God doth dwell,
The Holy Church Invisible.

Glory be to God, who layed

In heaven the foundation;

And to the Spirit who hath made The walls of our salvation;

To Christ himself the Corner Stone,

Be glory! to the Three in One.

THE END.

ૐ.

INDEX.

AND dare I say, "Welcome to me

And dare ye deem God's ire must cease

And shrink ye still?—He nearer draws,

. 205

And they who grudge the Omnipotent His praise 144 "And we too, Levites though we be

€ 192

179

96

And where is now the Tishbite? Where is he And wouldst thou reach, rash scholar mine, "Are the gates sure?-is every bolt made fast? 203 Are these the tracks of some unearthly Friend "Away, or ere the Lord break forth!

Banished the House of sacred rest,

.

Beautiful flowers round Wisdom's secret well Behold your armoury !-sword, and lightning shaft,

33 . 188

5

115

207

. 209

. 198

. 183

"But Faith is cold, and wilful men are strong, 145

But louder yet the heavens shall ring,
But sadder strains, and direr bodings dark,
By your Lord's creative breath,

Cease, Stranger, cease those piercing notes
Christ bade His followers take the sword
Christ only, of God's messengers to man,
Christ's Church was holiest in her youthful days,
Come, twinkle in my lonely room,

206

51

. 77

215

161

75

Dear sainted Friends, I call not you,

Deep in his meditative bower,

Did we but see,

Page

59

90

32

Do not their souls, who neath the Altar wait
. 223
Dread glimpses, even in Gospel times, have been; 197
Dull thunders moan around the Temple Rock,

Each morn and eve, the Golden Keys
Each trial has its weight; which, whoso bears
Ere yet I left home's youthful shrine,

Faint not; and fret not, for threatened woe,
Far sadder musing on the traveller falls
Fear not for He hath sworn :

181

15

104

2

. 103

. 216

17

France! I will think of thee, as what thou wast, 132

Full many an eve, and many a morn,

"Give any boon for peace!

God of our Israel! by our favoured sires

71

85
178

Hail! gladdening Light, of His pure glory poured 73
Hail, glorious Lights, kindled at God's own urn 106
Hark! Baal's praise resounds from countless choirs 177
Heard ye? the unerring Judge is at the door? 167
He spake He died and rose again—

:

How can I keep my Christmas feast

How didst thou start, Thou Holy Baptist, bid

. 72

"How long endure this priestly scorn,
How long, O Lord of grace,

How shall a child of God fulfil

I bear upon my brow the sign

I bow at Jesus' name, for 'tis the Sign

I dreamed that, with a passionate complaint,

I have been honoured and obeyed

I sat beneath an olive's branches grey
I saw thee once, and nought discerned

I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd
If e'er I fall beneath Thy rod

If waiting by the time-crown'd halls,

In childhood, when with eager eyes
Into God's word as in a palace fair
Is He not near?-look up and see:

Is there no sound about our Altars heard

142

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, 28

Let others sing thy heathen praise,

Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed,

Lord, in this dust Thy sovereign voice

Man is permitted much

Many the guileless years the Patriarch spent,
Methought I saw a face divinely fair,

Mid Balak's magic fires

Mortal! if e'er thy spirits faint,

Moses, the patriot fierce, became

108

40

25

Mother and hast thou left thy child
My Father's hope! my childhood's dream!
My home is now a thousand mile away ;
My smile is bright, my glance is free

"No joy of mine to invite the thunder down,
Nor wants there Seraph warnings, morn and eve,
Now is the Autumn of the Tree of Life;

Now the stars are lit in heaven,

་

O aged Saint! far off I heard

O comrade bold of toil and pain!

O Father, list a sinner's call!

O Heart of fire! misjudged by sinful man,

Oh! miserable power

Oh prophet, tell me not of peace,

Oh! surely Scorner is his name

12

154

185

157

69

88

214

8

20

11

7

193

218

O Lord and Christ, Thy Churches of the south 129

O Lord, I hear, but can it be

O Lord! when sin's close marshalled line
O Mother Church of Rome! why has thy heart
Once as I brooded o'er my guilty state
Once cast with men of language strange

One only way to life

O piteous race

O purest semblance of the Eternal Son

rail not at our brethren of the North,
say not thou art left of God