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SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
WHEN spring unlocks the flowers to paint the
laughing soil ; When summer's balmy showers refresh the
mower's toil ; When winter binds in frosty chains the fallow
and the flood, In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his
The birds that wake the morning, and those that
love the shade ; The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the
drowsy glade; The sun thạt from his amber bower rejoiceth on
The moon and stars, their Master's name in
silent pomp display.
Shall man, the lord of nature, expectant of the
sky, Shall man, alone unthankful, his little praise
deny ? No, let the year forsake his course, the seasons
cease to be, Thee, Master, must we always love, and, Saviour,
The flowers of spring may wither, the hope of
summer fade, The autumn droop in winter, the birds forsake
the shade ; The winds be lull'd—the sun and moon forget
their old decree, But we in nature's latest hour, O Lord! will
cling to thee.
JERUSALEM, Jerusalem! enthroned once on high,
below the sky!
and grief to see, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! our tears shall flow for
Oh! hadst thou known thy day of grace, and
flock'd beneath the wing
pomp to see,
“ And who art thou that mournest me?” replied
the ruin gray, ** And fear'st not rather that thyself may prove a
I am a dried and abject branch, my place is given
to thee; But wo to every barren graft of thy wild olive-tree!
“Our day of grace is sunk in night, our time of
mercy spent, For heavy was my children's crime, and strange
their punishment; Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, sinner, warned
be, Who spared not his chosen seed may send his
wrath on thee!
6 Our day of grace is sunk in night, thy noon is in
its prime ; Oh! turn and seek thy Saviour's face in this
accepted time! So, Gentile, may Jerusalem a lesson prove to thee, And in the new Jerusalem thy home for ever be!”
THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
" Who yonder on the desert heath,
Complains in feeble tone ???
6. How cam'st thou to this dismal strand
Of danger, grief, and shame ?”
66 What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare ?
Whose fury laid thee low ?"
- Can art no medicine for thy wound,
Nor nature strength supply ?" -" They saw me bleeding on the ground, And pass’d in silence by!”