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On wheels of light, on wings of fame, The idle spear and shield were high up The glorious hosts to Zion came;
The hooket chariot stood
hung, High heaven with songs of triumph rung, Unstain'd with hostile blood; While thus they smote their harps and sung: The trumpet spake not to the arm'd throng;
And kings sat still with awful eye, o Zion! lift thy raptured eye:
As if they surely knew their soy'reign Lord The long-expected hour is nigh ;
was by. The joys of nature rise again; The Prince of Salem comes to reign. But peaceful was the night,
Wherein the Prince of Light See Mercy, from her golden urn,
His reign of peace upon the earth began : Pours a rich stream to them that mourn; The winds, with wonder whist, Behold, she binds, with tender care,
Smoothly the waters kiss'd, The bleeding bosom of Despair.
Whisp'ring new joys to the mild ocean He comes to cheer the trembling heart,
Who now hath quite forgot to rave, Bids Satan and his host depart;
While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
John Milton. Again the day-star gilds the gloom, Again the bowers of Eden bloom.
260. BIRTH OF CHRIST, Welcoming the. Thomas Campbell. All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, 238. BIRTH OF CHRIST, Heathenism at the.
Whose love did not the sinner scorn! The oracles are dumb,
In my distress Thou cam'st to me: No voice or hideous hum
What thanks shall I return to Thee ? Runs through the arched roof in words de- Were earth a thousand times as fair, Apollo from his shrine
Beset with gold and jewels rare, Can no more divine,
She yet were far too poor to be With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos
A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. No nightly trance, or breathed
spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the pro- Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child ! phetic cell.
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.
Martin Luther, tr. by A. T. Tozer. And mooned Ashtaroth,
261. BLAME, Shifting the. Heaven's queen and mother both,
How backward man himself to blame! Now sits not girt with tapers holy shine ; How ready I, like Adam, am The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn,
To palliate what I first would hide, In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded To excuse what cannot be denied, Thammuz mourn.
Or dare with boldest blasphemy
To charge my sin, O God, on Thee ! And sullen Moloch fled,
Charles Wesley. Hath left in shadows dread
262, ELESSED, Who are the ? His burning idol all of blackest hue: In vain with cymbal's ring,
Who are the bless'd ? They call the grisly king,
They who have kept their sympathics awake, In dismal dance about the furnace blue: And scattered joy for more than custom's The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
sakeIsis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
Steadfast and tender in the hour of need,
Gentle in thought, benevolent in deed ; Nor is Osiris seen
Whose looks have power to make dissensions In Memphian grove or green,
(peace; Trampling the unshower'd grass with low. Whose smile is pleasant and whose words are Nor can he be at rest
They who have lived as harmless as the dove, Within his sacred chest,
(shroud; Teachers of truth and ministers of love; Naught but profoundest Hell can be his Love for all moral power—all mental grace In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark
Love for the humblest of the human raceThe sable-stoled sorcerers bear his wor- Love for that tranquil joy that virtue brings-shipp'd ark.
Love for the Giver of all goodly things; He feels from Judah's land
True followers of that soul-exalting plan The dreaded Infant's hand,
Which Christ laid down to bless and govern The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky
man; Nor all the gods beside
They who can calmly linger to the last, Longer dare abide.
Survey the future and recall the past; (pain,
And with that hope which triumphs over 259. BIRTH OF CHRIST, Peace at the. Feel well assured they have not lived in vain; No war, or battle's sound
Then wait in peace their hour of final rest Was heard the world around,
These are the only bless'd I P. Prince.
263, BLESSEDNESS, True.
Still hoping that the next, and still the next, In the nine heavens are eight Paradises; Would put an alms into his trembling hand. Where is the ninth one? În the human breast. He thinks he hears the coming breeze faint Only the blessed dwell in th' Paradises, Among the sycamores; it is the tread (rustle But blessedness dwells in the human breast. Of thousand stops, it is the hum of tongues Created creatures are in th' Paradises, Innumerable; but when the sightless man The uncreated Maker in the breast.
Heard the Nazarene was passing by, Given to thee are those eight Paradises,
He cried and said, “ Jesus, thou Son of David, When thou the ninth one hast within thy Have mercy upon me!” and when rebuked breast.
He cried the more, “Have mercy upon me!" “Thy faith hath made thee whole;
so Jesus 264. BLESSINGS, Oertainty of.
[God! If what I wish is good,
And straight the blind beheld the face of And suits the Will divine,
When I consider how my life is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and
wide, They cannot keep a blessing back And that one talent, which is death to hide,
By Heaven designed for me. Lodged with me useless, though my soul
To serve therewith my Maker, and present His Love shall cross my fond desires, My true account, lest he returning chide; His kindly-jealous Love.
“Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? "
Charles Wesley. I fondly ask: but Patience, to prevent 265. BLINDNESS, Compensation of.
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not
need O happiness of blindness! now no beauty Inflames my lust; no other's good my envy;
Either man's work or His own gifts; who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best: His Or misery, my pity; no man's wealth
state Draws my respect, nor poverty my scorn. Yet still I see enough! man to himself
Is kingly; thousands at His bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest; Is a large prospect, rais'd above the level Of his low creeping thoughts; if then I have They also serve who only stand and wait.”
Milton. A world within myself, that world shall be
269. BLINDNESS, Light in. My empire, there I'll reign, commanding freely,
I am old and blind ! And willingly obey'd secure from fear Men point to me as smitten by God's frown,
kindOf foreign forces, or domestic treasons, [lute, Afflicted and deserted of And hold a monarchy more free, more abso
Yet I am not cast down. Than in my father's seat, and looking down
I am weak, yet strongWith scorn or pity on the slipp'ry state I murmur not that I no longer sceOf kings, will tread upon the neck of fate. Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong, Sir John Denham.
Father Supreme to Thee. 266. BLINDNESS, Complaint of.
O merciful One,
(near : O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! When men are farthest, then Thou art most Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, When friends pass by, my weakness to shun, Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age !
Thy chariot I hear.
Thy glorious face
Is leaning towards me—and its holy light Inferior to the vilest now become [ceased.
And there is no more night. Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: They creep, yet see; I dark in light exposed
On my bended knee To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, I recognize Thy purpose clearly shownWithin doors or without still as a fool, My vision Thou hast dimmed that I may see In power of others, never in my own; [half.
Thyself, Thyself alone. Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than
I have naught to fear! O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, This darkness is the shadow of Thy wingIrrecoverably dark, total eclipse,
Beneath it I am almost sacred-here
Can come no evil thing.
01 I seem to stand [been 267, BLINDNESS, Cured.
Trembling where foot of mortal ne'er hath Blind, poor, and helpless, Bartimeus sat, Wrapped in the radiance of Thy sinless land, Listening the foot of the wayfaring man,
Which eye hath never seen.
Visions come and go; [throng; | The baleful influence of whose giddy dance Shapes of resplendent beauty round me Sheds sad vicissitude on all beneath. From angel lips I seem to hear the flow Here teems with revolutions every hour; Of soft and holy song.
And rarely for the better: or the best,
More mortal than the common births of fate. It is nothing now, [eyes, Each moment has its sickle, emulous [sweep When heaven is ripening on my sightless Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample When airs from Paradise refresh my brow,
Strikes empires from the root: each moment That earth in darkness lies.
plays In a purer clime
His little weapon in the narrower sphere My being fills with rapture ; waves of thought The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss
Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down Roll in upon my spirit; strains sublime Break over me unsought.
Bliss ! sublunary bliss !-proud words and
Implicit treason to divine decree !
A bold invasion of the rights of Heaven!
What darts of agony had miss'd my heart ! Elizabeth Lloyd.
Edward Young. 270. BLINDNESS, Prayer in.
272. BODY, The Glorified.
With the year 'Tis night: behold, as if by death opprest, Seasons return, but not to me returns
The sun his rays in gloom sepulchral hide ! Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,
'Tis day: behold, with renovated pride, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
In the magnificence of morning drest, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
The sun, rejoicing, lifts his orient crest; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
A bridegroom issuing forth to meet his Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
bride! Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Thus, like the sun, beneath the ocean tide, Presented with a universal blank
The Christian seeks the chamber of his rest; Of nature's works, to me expung'd and raz’d, Thus, like the sun, to rise !—But not the samo And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Shall rise, as when his mortal course was So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her to that unearthly, pure, ethereal frame, pow'rs
That robe of amaranthine radiance spun, Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from No nearer likeness this vile form may claim, Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Than glimmering starlight to yon glorious Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Bishop Mant. Milton. 271. BLISS, Sablunary.
273. BOLDNESS, Ministerial. Our waking dreams are fatal. How I dream'd When young, and full of sanguine hope, Of things impossible! (Could sleep do And warm in my first love, more?)
My spirit's loins I girded up, Of joys perpetual in perpetual change!
And sought the things above; Of stable pleasures on the tossing wave! Swift on the wings of active zeal Eternal sunshine in the storms of life!
With Jesu's message flew, How richly were my noontide trances hung
O'erjoyed with all my heart and will
I drew the two-edged sword,
Rushed on with full career,
And aimed at each opposer's head, Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie
And smote off many an ear. On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
Charles Wesley. O ye bless'd scenes of permanent delight! Full, above measure! lasting, beyond bound!
274. BOOK, Dedication of a A perpetuity of bliss is bliss.
Go, little Book! from this my solitude; Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an end; I cast thee on the waters, -go thy ways ; That ghastly thought would drink up all And if, as I believe, thy vein be good, your joy,
The World will find thee after many days, And quite unparadise the realms of light. Be it with thee according to thy worth: Safc are you lodged above these rolling Go, little Book! in faith I send thee forth. spheres ;
275. BOOK, Inscription of the
No daylight trembling on the dungeon bar; Like to a bride, come forth, my book, at last, Turn, as we list, the globe's great axle round, With all thy richest jewels overcast.
Traverse all space, and number every star, Say, if there be, 'mongst many gems here, one And feel the Near less household than the Deserveless of the name of paragon:
Far! Blush not at all for that, since we have set There is no Past, so long as Books shall live! Some pearls on queens that have been coun- A disinterred Pompeii wakes again terfeit. Robert Herrick. For him who seeks you well; lost cities give
Up their untarnished wonders, and the reign 276. BOOKS, Enduring.
Of Jove revives and Saturn: at our will Composed of many thoughts, possessing, each, Rise dome and tower on Delphi's sacred hill; Innate and underived vitality:
Bloom Cimon's trees in Academe; along Which having fitly shaped, and well arranged Leucadia's headland sighs the Lesbian's song; In brotherly accord they builded up With Ægypt's Queen once more we sail the A stately superstructure, that, nor wind,
[smile; Nor wave, nor shock of falling years could And learn how worlds are bartered for a move;
Rise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming Majestic and indissolubly firm,
o'er, As ranks of veteran warriors in the field; Ope but that page—lo, Babylon once more ! Each by himself alone, and singly seen
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. A sea of valor, dreadl invincible! Books of this sort, or sacred, or profane,
280. BOOKS, Pleasure of.
Give me Which virtue helped, were titled not amiss, The medicine of the mind: who read them, Contain my books, the best companions, is
Leave to enjoy myself. That place that does read Wisdom, and was refreshed; and on his path Converse with the old sages and philosophers;
To me a glorious court, where hourly I Of pilgrimage with healthier step advanced. And sometimes for variety I confer
Robert Pollok. 277. BOOKS, Immortal.
With kings and emperors, and weigh their The Wise
counsels; (Minstrel or Sage), out of their books are clay; Unto a strict account; and in my fancy,
Calling their victories, if unjustly got, But in their books, as from their graves, they Deface their ill-plac'd statues. Can I then
rise, Angels, that, side by side, upon our way,
Part with such constant pleasures, to embrace
Uncertain vanities? No: be it your care Walk with and warn us ! We call some books immortal ! Do they live? To augment a heap of wealth : it shall be If so, believe me, TIME hath made them pure.
To increase in knowledge.
John Fletcher. In Books, the veriest wicked rest in peace God wills that nothing evil should endure;
281. BRAVERY, Field for. The grosser parts fly off and leave the whole, Dare to think, though others frown; As the dust leaves the disembodied soul !
Dare in words your thoughts express; Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton.
Dare to rise, though oft cast down;
Dare the wronged and scorned to bless. 278. BOOKS, Multiplicity of.
Productive was the world Dare from custom to depart;
Dare to wear it next your heart;
Dare, when others curse, to bless. Rebellious long, admonished long in vain,
Dare forsake what you deem wrong;
Dare to walk in wisdom's way;
Dare to give where gifts belong;
Dare God's precepts to obey. Thy wonder stay: like men, this was their Do what conscience says is right; That dust they were, and should to dust
Do what reason says is best ; return.
Do with all your mind and might; And oft their fathers, childless and bereaved,
Do your duty and be blest. Wept o'er their graves, when they themselves were green,
282, BRIBERY, Infinence of. And on them fell, as fell on every age,
What is that which I should turn to, lighting As on their authors fell, oblivious Night.
upon days like these ?
Robert Pollok. Every door is barr'd with gold, and opens 279. BOOKS, Omniscience of.
but to golden keys.
In them, we Every gate is throng'd with suitors, all the Who, but for them, upon that inch of ground markets overflow. We call “THE PRESENT," from the cell could I have but an angry fancy : what is that
which I should do ?
I had been content to perish, falling on the Sweetly his pale arms folded forman's ground,
My neck in a meek embrace, When the ranks are roll'd in vapor, and the As the light of immortal beauty winds are laid with sound.
Silently covered his face; But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt And when the arrows of sunset that Honor feels,
Lodged in the tree-tops bright, And the nations do but murmur snarling at He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
each other's heels. Alfred Tennyson. Asleep by the gates of light. 283. BRIBERY, Prevalence of
Therefore, of all the pictures
That hang on Memory's wall, Inaction now is crime. The old earth reels,
The one of the dim old forest Inebriate with guilt; and vice grown bold,
Seemeth the best of all. Alice Carey. Laughs innocence to scorn. The thirst for gold
286. BROTHERHOOD, Bond of. Hath made men demons, till the heart that When a deed is done for Freedom, through The impulse of impartial love, nor kneels
the broad earth's aching breast In worship foul to Mammon, is contemned. Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on He who hath kept his purer faith, and from east to west; stemmed
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the Corruption's tide, and from the ruffian heels
soul within him climb Of impious tramplers rescued perilled right, To the awful verge of manhood, as the Is called fanatic, and with scoffs and jeers
energy sublime Maliciously assailed. W. H. Burleigh. Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the : 284. BRIBERY, Power of.
thorny stem of Time. The advocate for him who offered most Through the walls of hut and palace shoots Pleaded; the scribe, according to the hire,
the instantaneous throe, Worded the lie, adding for every piece
Where the travail of the Ages wrings earth's An oath of confirmation; judges raised
systems to and fro; One hand to intimate the sentence, death,
At the birth of each new Era, with a recogImprisonment, or fine, or loss of goods,
nizing start, And in the other held a lusty bribe,
Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with Which they had taken to give the sentence
mute lips apart, wrong:
And glad Truth's yet mightier man-child So managing the scale of justice still,
leaps beneath the Future's heart. That he was wanting found who poorest So the Evil's triumpb sendeth, with a terror seemed. Robert Pollok.
and a chill, 285. BROTHER, Memory of a.
Under continent to continent, the sense of Among the beautiful pictures
coming ill, That hang on Memory's wall,
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels his Is one of a dim old forest,
sympathies with God That seemeth best of all;
In hot teardrops ebbing earthward, to be Not for its gnarled oaks olden,
drunk up by the sod, Dark with the mistletoe;
Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving Not for the violets golden
in the nobler clod. That sprinkle the vale below;
For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct Not for the milk-white lilies
bears along, That lean from the fragrant ledge, Round the earth's electric circle, the swift Coquetting all day with the sunbeams,
flash of right or wrong; And stealing their golden edge: Whether conscious or unconscious, yet HuNot for the vines on the upland,
manity's vast frame Where the bright red berries rest, Through its ocean-sundered fibres feels the Nor the pinks, nor the pale sweet cowslip, gush of joy or shame; It seemeth to me the best.
In the gain or loss of one race all the rest I once had a little brother,
have equal claim.
James Russell Lowell. With
eyes that were dark and deep; In the lap of that old dim forest
287. BROTHERHOOD, Disbelief of Man's. He lieth in peace asleep:
Early from heaven it was revealed, and oft Light as the down of the thistle,
Repeated in the world, from pulpits Free as the winds that blow,
preached, We roved there the beautiful summers And penned and read in holy books, that The summers of long ago;
Had this been truly credited and felt,
The king, in purple robe, had owned, indeed, A bed of the yellow leaves.
The beggar for his brother ; pride of rank