Now triumph, scribe and Pharisee ! Still from his lip no curse has come, 66 IV. Croly. "There was darkness over all the earth."-Luke xxiii. 44. ON Judah's hills a weight of darkness hung, From the sharp cross th' enlightened spirit fled, O Saviour! O Atoner! thou that fain The bright and morning star, my guide to perfect day! Mrs Hemans. V. "There were also women looking on."- Mark xv. 40. LIKE those pale stars of tempest hours, whose gleam Waves calm and constant on the rocking mast, Such by the Cross doth your bright lingering seem, Daughters of Zion! faithful to the last! cast By the death-cloud within the Saviour's eye, Still hath your act a voice-through fear, through strife, Bidding her bind each tendril of her life To that which her deep soul hath proved of holiest worth. Mrs Hemans. VI. IN the Cross of Christ I glory!- Gathers round its head sublime. When the woes of life o'ertake me, Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, Never shall the cross forsake me, Lo! it glows with peace and joy! When the sun of bliss is beaming Light and love upon my way, Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure, Peace is there that knows no measure, In the cross of Christ I glory!- Gathers round its head sublime. J. Bowring. THE RESURRECTION. I. LIFT your glad voices in triumph on high, For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die. Vain were the terrors that gathered around him And short the dominion of death and the grave; He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound him Resplendent in glory, to live and to save. Loud was the chorus of angels on high, 'The Saviour hath risen, and man shall not die.' Glory to God, in full anthems of joy; The being he gave us, death cannot destroy. Sad were the life we must part with tomorrow, If tears were our birthright, and death were our end; But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend. Lift then your voices in triumph on high, For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die. Henry Ware jun. II. "Go your way,- tell his disciples, and Peter, that He goeth before you into Galilee." - Mark xvi. 7. BUT wherefore Peter? He whose pride Dream'd on the monarch sea to tread, Whose traitor tongue with oaths denied His master, in the hour of dread, Wherefore to him in accents sweet, Such words of heavenly solace bear, And not to those whose firmer feet Indignant foil'd the Tempter's snare? Hark! from a risen Saviour's tomb, The guardian seraph makes reply, Flows forth the language of the sky, With silent ministry sublime And neutralize a mass of crime. |