FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. That thou, the camel of life's woe, 253 BY GRECIAN ANNALS IT REMAINED UNTOLD.R. C. Trench. By Grecian annals it remained untold, had brought. FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. — Keble. Ir was not, then, a poet's dream, Such as beneath the moon's soft gleam On vacant fancies throng, Which bids us see in heaven and earth, In all fair things around, Strong yearnings for a blest new birth With sinless glories crowned; Which bids us hear, at each sweet pause In the low chant of wakeful birds, In whispering leaves, these solemn words,"God made us all for good." All true, all faultless, all in tune, Opened in mystic unison, To last till time expire. And still it lasts: by day and night, Man only mars the sweet accord, Sin is with man at morning break, But when eve's silent footfall steals Along the eastern sky, And one by one to earth reveals Those purer fires on high, FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. When one by one each human sound Then Nature's voice no more is drowned, Then pours she on the Christian heart At which high spirits of old would start Just guessing, through their murky blind, Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise, They marked what agonizing throes Nor could the enchantress Hope forecast The travail-pangs of Earth must last The hour that saw from opening heaven Redeeming glory stream, Beyond the summer hues of even, Beyond the mid-day beam. 255 Thenceforth, to eyes of high desire, The rod of heaven has touched them all, "The God who hallowed thee, and blest, "Why mourn'st thou still as one bereft, His blessed home in heaven hath left Thou mourn'st because sin lingers still Because, as Love and Prayer grow cold, And worldlings blot the temple's gold Hence all thy groans and travail-pains; In Wisdom's ear thy blithest strains, IS THERE, FOR HONEST POVERTY. 257 IS THERE, FOR HONEST POVERTY. - Burns. Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that? Our toil 's obscure, and a' that; What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that, The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a' that! A king can mak' a belted knight, |