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THEY gave to Thee
Myrrh, frankincense and gold;
were sold ? We've nothing but ourselves, and scarce that neither ;
Vile dirt and clay ;
Thy holy image, and it shall outshine
Jeremy Taylor. 1650.
Mafar beyond the stars
Y soul, there is a countrie
Afar the stars, Where stands a wingéd sentrie
All skilfull in the wars. There, above noise and danger,
Sweet Peace sits crown'd with smiles, And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend
And (O my soul, awake!) Did in pure love descend,
To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither,
There growes the flowre of peace, The rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortresse, and thy ease.
For none can thee secure
Henry Vaughan. 1621–1695.
LOVE divine, how sweet thou art!
When shall I find my willing heart All taken up by thee? I thirst, and faint, and die to prove, The greatness of redeeming love,
The love of Christ to me.
He only knows the love of God;
In this poor stony heart !
Be mine this better part.
O that I could forever sit,
Be this my happy choice ;
To hear the Bridegroom's voice.
O that, with humbled Peter,
My faithfulness to prove.
Thou know'st that Thee I love.
O that I could, with favor’d John,
The dear Redeemer's breast !
My everlasting rest.
Thy only love do I require,
Nothing in heaven above;
“ALLAH, Allah!” cried the fick man, racked with
night Till with prayer his heart grew tender, till his lips like
But at morning came the Tempter ; said, “ Call louder,
child of Pain ! See if Allah ever hear, or answers, 'HERE AM I;' again.” Like a stab, the cruel cavil through his brain and pulses
went ; To his heart an icy coldness, to his brain a darkness,
Then, before him, stands Elias ; says, “My child, why
thus dismayed? Doft repent thy former fervor ? Is thy soul of prayer
“Ah!” he cried, “I've called so often ; never heard
the "Here am I'; And I thought, God will not pity ; will not turn on
me his eye."
Then the grave Elias answered, “God said, Rise,
Elias ; go
Speak to him, the sorely tempted; lift him from his gulf
""Tell him that his very longing is itself an answering
cry; That his prayer, “Come, gracious Allah!” is My answer,
« Here am I.”,
Every inmost aspiration is God's angel undefiled ;
Dscheladeddin. Tholuck's version. Translated by Rev. James F. Clarke.