RECENT HYMN-WRITERS AND

THEIR HYMNS.

FABER.

FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, the author of some of the most finished, ornate, and peculiarly beautiful poems of the present generation of hymn-writers, was born in 1815, was early schooled at Harrow, and graduated at Oxford, in 1836. He was a minister of the Established church for some ten years, but at the age of thirty-one he became a communicant of the church of Rome. After the change in his views, he established a brotherhood of priests at London, and lived a somewhat secluded and ascetic life. He died in 1863.

His hymns are flowers from both Catholic and Protestant soil, but are generally as liberal in spirit as they are pure in diction and lofty in sentiment. He had many religious doubts and conflicts, and his life, though uneventful, was one of peculiar experiences. He died in the prime of manhood, yet lived to say:

"A weary actor, I would fain

Be quit of my long part,

The burden of unquiet life

Lies heavy on my heart."

Both of the hymns which we give, are from a collection of Faber's poems, called "Oratory Hymns," and

are colored by his own religious feelings. They indicate his unrest, and his expectation of peace at last. They are founa in both Protestant and Catholic collections.

I.

HARK! hark, my soul! angelic songs are swelling

O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore;
How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling
Of that new life when sin shall be no more!

Angels of Jesus,

Angels of light,
Singing to welcome

The pilgrims of the night.

Onward we go, for still we hear them singing,
"Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come;"
And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing,
The music of the gospel leads us home.
Angels of Jesus, etc.

Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing,
The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea,
And laden souls by thousands meekly stealing
Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to thee.
Angels of Jesus, etc.

Rest comes at length, though life be long and dreary,
The day must dawn, and darksome night be past;

All journeys end in welcome to the weary,

And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last.
Angels of Jesus, etc.

Angels, sing on! your faithful watches keeping;
Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above;
Till morning's joy shall end the night of weeping,
And life's long night shall break in endless love.
Angels of Jesus, etc.

II.

O PARADISE, O Paradise!

Who doth not crave for rest?

Who would not seek the happy land
Where they that loved are blest?
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light,
All rapture through and through,
In God's most holy sight.

O Paradise, O Paradise!

The world is growing old;

Who would not be at rest and free
Where love is never cold?

Where loyal hearts and true, etc.

O Paradise, O Paradise!
'Tis weary waiting here;
I long to be where Jesus is,

To feel, to see him near;

Where loyal hearts and true, etc.

O Paradise, O Paradise!

I want to sin no more,

I want to be as pure on earth

As on thy spotless shore;

Where loyal hearts and true, etc.

O Paradise, O Paradise!

I greatly long to see

The special place my dearest Lord
In love prepares for me;
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light,

All rapture through and through,
In God's most holy sight.

KEBLE.

SUN of my soul! thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide thee from thy servant's eyes.

When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.

Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without thee I dare not die.

If some poor wandering child of thine
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.

Watch by the sick; enrich the poor
With blessings from thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night
Like infant's slumbers pure and light.

Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
Till in the ocean of thy love

We lose ourselves in heaven above.

This hymn is from Keble's "Christian Year," a book that embodies many choice Christian experiences, which have been recognized with gratitude by the universal church, although especially written for those whose worship follows the set forms of the Church of England. Mr. Keble lived a quiet, retired life, and drank from spiritual fountains in secluded places; but his rare gifts