Or, if before thee in the race,

Urge him with thine advancing tread, Till, like twin stars, with even pace,

Each lucid course be duly sped.

No fading frail memorial give

To sooth his soul when thou art gone, But wreaths of hope for aye to live, And thoughts of good together done.

That so, before the judgment-seat,
Though chang'd and glorified each face,
Not unremember'd ye may meet
For endless ages to embrace.

ST. THOMAS' DAY.

Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed. St. John xx. 29.

WE were not by when Jesus camea,

But round us, far and near,

We see His trophies, and His name
In choral echoes hear.

In a fair ground our lot is cast,

As in the solemn week that past,

While some might doubt, but all ador'd b,

Ere the whole widow'd Church had seen her risen

Lord.

Slowly, as then, His bounteous hand

The golden chain unwinds,

a St. John xx. 24. Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymas, was not with them when Jesus came.

St. Matt. xxviii. 17. When they saw Him, they worshipped Ili: but some doubted.

Drawing to Heaven with gentlest band
Wise hearts and loving minds.

Love sought him first—at dawn of morn c
From her sad couch she sprang forlorn,

She sought to weep with Thee alone,

And saw thine open grave, and knew that Thou wert gone.

Reason and Faith at once set out d
To search the SAVIOUR'S tomb;
Faith faster runs, but waits without,
As fearing to presume,

Till Reason enter in, and trace

Christ's relics round the holy place

"Here lay His limbs, and here His sacred head, "And who was by, to make His new-forsaken bed?"

Both wonder, one believes-but while

They muse on all at home,

No thought can tender Love beguile
From Jesus' grave to roam.

St. Mary Magdalen's visit to the sepulchre.
St. Peter and St. John.

Weeping she stays till He appear—

Her witness first the Church must hear

All joy to souls that can rejoice

With her at earliest call of His dear gracious voice.

Joy too to those, who love to talk

In secret how He died,

Though with seal'd eyes awhile they walk,

Nor see Him at their side;

Most like the faithful pair are they,
Who once to Emmaus took their way,

Half darkling, till their Master shed

His glory on their souls, made known in breaking bread.

Thus, ever brighter and more bright,

On those He came to save
The Lord of new-created light

Dawn'd gradual from the grave:

Till pass'd th' enquiring daylight hour,
And with clos'd door in silent bower

The Church in anxious musing sate,

As one who for redemption still had long to wait.

Then, gliding through th' unopening door,
Smooth without step or sound,

"Peace to your souls," He said—no more

They own Him, kneeling round.

Eye, ear, and hand, and loving heart,

Body and soul in every part,

Successive made His witnesses that hour, Cease not in all the world to shew His saving power.

Is there, on earth, a spirit frail,
Who fears to take their word,
Scarce daring, through the twilight pale,

To think he sees the Lord?

With eyes too tremblingly awake

To bear with dimness for His sake?

Read and confess the hand divine

That drew thy likeness here so true in every line.

For all thy rankling doubts so sore,

Love thou thy Saviour still,

Him for thy Lord and God adore,

And ever do His will.

Though vexing thoughts may seem to last,

Let not thy soul be quite o'ercast ;