FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS.

So the sun returned ten degrees, by which degrees it was gone down. Isaiah xxxviii. 8; compare Josh. x. 13.

"TIs true, of old th' unchanging sun

His daily course refus'd to run,

The pale moon hurrying to the west

Paus'd at a mortal's call, to aid

Th' avenging storm of

war,

that laid

Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.

But can it be, one suppliant tear
Should stay the ever-moving sphere?
A sick man's lowly breathed sigh,
When from the world he turns away,

And hides his weary eyes to pray,

Should change your mystic dance, ye wanderers of the

sky?

• Then Hezekiah turned his face toward the wall, and prayed unto the Lord.

Isaiah xxxviii. 2.

F

We too, O Lord, would fain command,
As then, Thy wonder-working hand,

And backward force the waves of Time,
That now so swift and silent bear

Our restless bark from year to year;

Help us to pause and mourn to Thee our tale of crime.

Bright hopes, that erst the bosom warm'd,
And vows, too pure to be perform'd,

And prayers blown wide by gales of care;-
These, and such faint half-waking dreams,

Like stormy lights on mountain streams,

Wavering and broken all, athwart the conscience glare.

How shall we 'scape th' o'erwhelming Past?

Can spirits broken, joys o'ercast,

And eyes that never more may smile:-
Can these th' avenging bolt delay,

Or win us back one little day

The bitterness of death to soften and beguile?

Father and Lover of our souls!

Though darkly round Thine anger rolls,

Thy sunshine smiles beneath the gloom,
Thou seek'st to warn us, not confound,

Thy showers would pierce the harden'd ground, And win it to give out its brightness and perfume.

FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS.

Thou smil'st on us in wrath, and we,
E'en in remorse, would smile on Thee;

The tears that bathe our offer'd hearts,
We would not have them stain'd and dim,
But dropp'd from wings of seraphim,
All glowing with the light accepted Love imparts.

Time's waters will not ebb, nor stay,

Power cannot change them, but Love may;
What cannot be, Love counts it done.
Deep in the heart, her searching view

Can read where Faith is fix'd and true,

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Through shades of setting life can see Heaven's work begun.

O Thou, who keep'st the key of Love,

Open Thy fount, eternal Dove,

And overflow this heart of mine,

Enlarging as it fills with Thee,

Till in one blaze of charity

Care and remorse are lost, like motes in light divine;

Till, as each moment wafts us higher,

By every gush of pure desire,

And high-breath'd hope of joys above,

By every secret sigh we heave,

Whole years of folly we outlive,

In His unerring sight, who measures Life by Love.

THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.

In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without hands.

Coloss. ii. 11.

THE year begins with Thee, And Thou beginn'st with woe, To let the world of sinners see That blood for sin must flow.

Thine infant cries, O Lord,
Thy tears upon the breast,
Are not enough-the legal sword
Must do its stern behest.

Like sacrificial wine

Pour'd on a victim's head

Are those few precious drops of Thine,
Now first to offering led.

They are the pledge and seal
Of Christ's unswerving faith
Given to His Sire, our souls to heal,
Although it cost His death.

THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.

They to His Church of old,

To each true Jewish heart, In Gospel graces manifold Communion blest impart.

Now of Thy love we deem

As of an ocean vast,

Mounting in tides against the stream
Of ages gone and past.

Both theirs and ours Thou art,
As we and they are Thine;

Kings, Prophets, Patriarchs-all have part
Along the sacred line.

By blood and water too

God's mark is set on Thee,

That in Thee every faithful view
Both covenants might see.

O bond of union, dear

And strong as is Thy grace! Saints, parted by a thousand year, May thus in heart embrace.

Is there a mourner true,
Who fallen on faithless days,

Sighs for the heart-consoling view

Of those, Heaven deign'd to praise ?

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