HOLY DAYS.

For ever outs;

[ expanse, What' eye can range the limitless Or bear the blaze of love's inheritance? Ours:-Christ is ours: oh, miracle of bliss!

And we are His. Amen.

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW THE APOSTLE. 418 FATHER, before Thy throne of

416 KING of Saints, to whom the

light The guardian angels bend,

number

And ever in Thy presence bright Their psalms adoring blend; And casting down each golden crown Beside the crystal sea, With voice and lyre, in happy choir. Hymn glory, Lord, to Thee. And as the rainbow lustre falls Athwart their glowing wings, While seraph unto seraph calls, And each Thy goodness sings; Oh may we feel, as low we kneel To pray Thee for Thy grace, That Thou art here for all who fear The brightness of Thy face. Here where the angels see us come To worship day by day, Teach us to seek our heavenly home, And serve Thee e'en as they; With them to raise our notes of praise, With them Thy love to own; Till life's first flower and fuliest power Be Thine and Thine alone. Amen.

Of Thy starry host is known, Mary a name, by man forgotten, Lives for ever round Thy throne; Lights, which earth- born mists have darken'd.

Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days; Hope soon change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. Amen.

There are shining full and clear, Princes in the court of heaven,

Nameless, un remember'd here. How they toil'd for Thee and suffer'd None on earth can now record; All their saintly life is hidden

In the knowledge of their Lord. All is veil'd from us, but written

In the Lamb's great book of life, All the faith, and prayer, and patience, All the toiling, and the strife; There are told Thy hidden treasures; Number us, O Lord, with them, When Thou makest up the jewels Of Thy living diadem. Amen.

ST. MATTHEW THE APOSTLE.

417 JESUS, I my cross have taken, 419 HARK, hark, my soul! Angelic

All to Destitute, despised, forsaken,[ Thee; Thou from hence my all shall be: Perish every fond ambition,

songs are swelling O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave- beat shore:

All I've sought, or hoped, or known; Yet how rich is my condition!

God and heaven are still my own. Man may trouble and distress me,

How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling ( no more. Of that new life when sin shall be Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.

Twill but drive me to Thy breast; Life with trials hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest. Oh,' tis not in grief to harm me,

While Thy love is left to me; Oh,' twere not in joy to charın me, Were that joy unmix'd with Thee. Take, my soul, Thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find in every station

Something still to do or bear: Think what Spirit dwells within

thee;

What a Father's smile is thine; What a

Child of heaven, shouldst thou

And

Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, [ you come Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids through the dark, its echoes thome. sweetly ringing, The music of the Gospel leads us Angels of Jesus,& c. Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, [ and sea The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land And laden souls by thousands meekly stealing, ( steps to Thee. Kind Shepherd, turn their weary Angels of Jesus,& c. Rest comes at length; though life be long and dreary,

repine?

Haste then on from grace to glory, Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer;

Heaven's eternal day's before thee, God's own hand shall guide thee there. 102

The day must dawn, and darksome night be past: Faith's journey ends in welcome to the And heaven, the heart's true home I will come at last.

[ weary

Angels of Jesus,& c