Visions come and go Shapes of resplendent beauty round me throng- It is nothing now, When heaven is ripening on my sightless eye, In a purer clime My being fills with rapture-waves of thought Give me now my lyre; I feel the stirrings of a gift divine; CHRIST, LET ME COME TO THEE. MARY M. GRAVES. HRIST, let me come to Thee! CH Behind me roars the angry ocean tide; Each crested wave comes nearer, nearer still; The muttered thunders in the billows hide, I shudder at their hoarse, loud voice, so chill, I cannot meet the fierce, wild storm of Life! Christ, let me come to Thee! In dreams I hear Thy white-robed angels sing And feel their touch upon my fevered hand. When I awake and see them flit away; I strain my eyes, the last bright glimpse to see, And watch them vanish through the gates of day. Sweet Christ, O may I come? Christ, let me come to Thee! I watch my toiling breath grow faint and slow; Which one kind breath of heaven would melt away! A little longer in this world of vice The wished-for boundary is almost passed I see the shining shore of Paradise, I know my pain is almost o'er at last. Sweet Chirst, O let me come! Christ, let me come to Thee! I've seen the gates that guard Thy holy clime! I've had through all this weary care and pain. One blessed hope that ne'er has known despairIt cheers me like the sunshine after rain! I know Thou'lt hear my deep and heartfelt prayer, And let me come to Thee! COME, LORD, MY HEART IS SICK. GEORGE HERBERT. OME, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is sick COM While Thou dost ever, ever stay: Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick, My spirit gaspeth night and day. O show Thyself to me, Or take me up to Thee! How canst Thou stay, considering the pace Or take me up to Thee! Yet if Thou stayest still, why must I stay? O show Thyself to me, Or take me up to Thee! Oh, loose this frame, this knot of man untie ! Or take me up to Thee! What have I left that I should stay and grone? My thoughts and joys are all packt up and gone, O show Thyself to me, Or take me up to Thee! Come, dearest Lord, passe not this holy season, And even my verse, when by the rhyme and reason O show Thyself to me, Or take me up to Thee! ME TO ZION TAKE IN PITY. From the Latin. By THOMAS H. CHIVREs. AVE me, Lord! thou Judge Eternal! SAVE From those dark domains infernal; Tortures reaping-ever crying, Me to Zion take in pity! In this city, light eternal Reigns forever-peace supernal; Odors flow in such completeness, Heaven is filled with songs of sweetness Here, the soul knows no corruption, Heavenly city! glorious city! |