If a man keep My saying, he shall never see death.

ST. JOHN viii. 51. My days are like a shadow that declineth.

Ps. cii. 11.

RIGHT is the world's meridian : overhead
The proud imperial summer

wears its crown,

And pours the largesse of its beauty down Over the strong young life, all garlanded About the brows, and at whose feet is spread So slight a shadow, so confined a frown, 'Tis all unnoted as it were unknown ; And yet it marks the living for the dead. For the day wanes, and that phantasmal doom Creeps from the feet far forward, till at last, When power and pleasure, health and hope are

past, It merges with the impenetrable gloom. Yet can my Saviour make that darkness bright, And at that evening time can give me light.

Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be

equal with God: but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant. PHIL. ii. 6, 7.

Vo

ISTFUL is

every servant, † who hath borne The high sun's heat, for lower light that

throws His shadow far, day deepening at its close From bright to blood-red. He from the

young morn On to the even with much labour worn, Finds sweet this promise of a near repose. So spreads he forth his arms as one who knows His hour of freedom in a life forlorn. So-yet not som -behold Emmanuel ! So—for the Man whose Godhead is no spoil Hath thus the long day borne the servant's toil ; And yet not so—for 'tis an oracle Of more than Sleep o'erlies the radiant floor: Death in this shadow casts his sign before.

*

• See Notes, page 99.
+ Cf. Job vii. 2: “A servant earnestly desireth the shadow.”

Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from
Bozrah ?

Isa, lxiii. 1. (For the Epistle.)

HO cometh Zionward ? The Seraphim
'Twixt earth and heaven in dread amaze

reply
“ The Lord to Whom continually we cry,

Adoring." But, behold, His eyes are dim,
His step is slow, and none to honour Him
Sing now "Hosanna.” Nor girds He on His thigh,
Or sways in hand, sword, sceptre, royally.
Only a mystic Cup full to the brim
He bears, as towards the Valley and the Hill,
Where He must drink it, wearily He tends.
All of God's wrath and all of human ill-
Sin, sorrow--in that Cup begins and ends.
So comes He to His hour: Gethsemane
Is nigh beneath Him : o'er Him Calvary,

I was not rebellious, neither turned away back. I gave My back

to the smiters, and My cheeks to them that plucked off the hair : I hid not My Face from shame and spitting. ... I set My Face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed.

Isa. 1. 5-7. (For the Epistle.)

o cheering rays His path to death illume.

Warning Him back and shrieking in

His ear

The hands and voices of His human

fear Clutch at His heart and cry to Him of doom, Less of the dismal silence of the tomb Than of its way of sorrows in the shame Of scornful deed and word and hideous blame, That must precede the last and utter gloom. Yet is His Face set ! sadness soft and stern Sits on His priestly brow and in His eye, Stern to His fear, but in humility Most gentle. This is strength that nought shall

turn : Stronger than passion : in the still drear Vale, Or on the blatant Hill, it will not fail.

Judas, surnamed Iscariot, being of the number of the Twelve.

ST. LUKE xxii. 3.

T Bethany, with His beloved alone,
'the calm ere the far-murmuring storm

of hate
Breaks o'er Him:—when, as if they know

'tis late And the end near, the chosen few, His own, Draw close about Him, wondering, fearful--one Is not. Son of perdition, reprobate, He, though in secret guile he lies in wait, Is to his Lord by bitterest anguish known. “ His own familiar friend !” O deeper woe Herein-to that torn heart intenser painIn thought of love's “sweet counsel all in vain, Than in all hate and hurt of fiend and foe! By stealth the traitor wrought: shunning the light: So, later, went he out, and it was night.