XXVII.

A SUDDEN sun-burst in the woods,
But late sad Winter's palace dim!
O'er quickening boughs and bursting buds
Pacific glories shoot and swim.

As when some heart, grief-darkened long, Conclusive joy by force invades.

So swift the new-born splendours throng; Such lustre swallows up the shades.

The sun we see not; but his fires

From stem to stem obliquely smite,

Till all the forest aisle respires

The golden-tongued and myriad light.

The caverns blacken as their brows
With floral fire are fringed; but all
Yon sombre vault of meeting boughs
Turns to a golden fleece its pall,

As o'er it breeze-like music rolls.
O Spring, thy limit-line is crossed!
O Earth, some orb of singing Souls
Brings down to thee thy Pentecost!

Dominica Pentecostes.

XXVIII.

CLEAR as those silver trumps of old
That woke Judea's jubilee ;

Strong as the breeze of morning, rolled
O'er answering woodlands from the sea,

That matutinal anthem vast

Which winds, like sunrise, round the globe, Following the sunrise, far and fast,

And trampling on his fiery robe.

Once more the Pentecostal torch

Lights on the courses of the year: The "upper chamber" of the Church

Is thrilled once more with joy and fear.

Who lifts her brow from out the dust?
Who fixes on a world restored

A gaze like Eve's, but more august?

Who bends it heaven-ward on her Lord ?

It is the Birthday of the Bride.

The new begins; the ancient ends: From all the gates of Heaven flung wide The promised Paraclete descends.

He who o'er-shadowed Mary once
O'ershades Humanity to-day;
And bids her fruitful prove in sons
Co-heritors with Christ for aye.

Dominica Pentecostes.

XXIX.

THE Form decreed of tree and flower,
The shape susceptible of life,
Without the infused vivific Power,
Were but a slumber or a strife.

He whom the plastic hand of God
Himself created out of earth

Remained a statue and a clod

Till spirit infused to life gave birth.

So, till that hour, the Church. In Christ
Her awful structure, nerve and bone,
Though built, and shaped, and organised,
Existed but in skeleton;

Till down on that predestined frame,
Complete through all its sacred mould,

The Pentecostal Spirit came,

The self-same Spirit who of old

Creative o'er the waters moved.

Thenceforth the Church, made One and Whole,

Arose in Him, and lived, and loved

His Temple she; and He her Soul.

Turris Davidica.

XXX.

THE towered City loves thee well,
Strong Tower of David's House! In thee

She hails the unvanquished citadel

That frowns o'er Error's subject sea.

With magic might that Tower repels
A host that breaks where foe is none,-
No foe but statued Saints in cells

High-ranged, and smiling in the sun.

There stands Augustin; Leo there;
And Bernard, with a maiden face
Like John's; and, strong at once and fair,
That Spirit-Pythian, Athanase.

Upon thy star-surrounded height

God's angel keepeth watch and ward; And sunrise flashes thence ere night

Hath left dark street and dewy sward.