SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now. St. John ii. 10. THE heart of childhood is all mirth : We frolic to and fro As free and blithe, as if on earth But if indeed with reckless faith We trust the flattering voice, Which whispers, "Take thy fill ere death, Too surely, every setting day, Some lost delight we mourn, The flowers all die along our way, Such is the world's gay garish feast, And still, as loud the revel swells, Unlike the feast of heavenly love Spread at the Saviour's word For souls that hear his call, and prove Meet for his bridal board. Why should we fear, youth's draught of joy, Which God hath deign'd to bless? For, is it Hope, that thrills so keen Still whispering glorious things unseen?- The world would kill her soon: but Faith Or is it Love, the dear delight Of hearts that know no guile, That all around see all things bright With their own magic smile? The silent joy, that sinks so deep, Who, but a Christian, through all life Who, through the world's sad day of strife, Fathers may hate us or forsake, God's foundlings then are we : Mother on child no pity take, But we shall still have Thee. a Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not We may look home, and seek in vain A fond fraternal heart, But Christ hath given his promise plain Nor shall dull age, as worldlings say, The Saviour cannot pass away, And with Him lives our joy. Ever the richest tenderest glow Sets round th' autumnal sun But there sight fails: no heart may know Such is thy banquet, dearest Lord; O give us grace, to cast Our lot with thine, to trust thy word, And keep our best till last. have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Isaiah xlix. 15. THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. When Jesus heard it, he marvelled, and said to them that followed, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. St. Matthew viii, 10. I MARK'D a rainbow in the north, What time the wild autumnal sun From his dark veil at noon look'd forth, As glorying in his course half done, Flinging soft radiance far and wide Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side. It was a gleam to Memory dear, And watch how light can find its way To regions farthest from the fount of day. E |