Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 136.pdf/203

HOLY COMMUNION.

"As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by

the Father; so he that eateth me, even he shall live by
me." — St. John vi. 57.
"Amen, Allelujah!"

We sing the everlasting truth
Of words that Jesus said:
There is a holy human life
Upon the earth we tread.
It was poured out our faith to win,
It has prevailed against our sin,
It brings eternal glory in,
E'en here among the dead.

0 Lord of all the angel host
And of the church above,
We know thee in the midst of us
By thy descending dove.
We in our prison stained and dim,
With cherubim and seraphim,
Lift up to thee the heaven-born hymn
Of joy, and praise, and love.

Hail, bread of God that men may take! —-
His spirit teaches how.
The dying soul that eateth thee
Shall even live as thou. -
"Come, eat," the faithful witness saith
To sinners breathing mortal breath,
"And live forever after death;
Yea, live forever now."

This being, with its ransomed powers,
Oh let thy body feed,
And make the very life it lives
An endless life indeed.
With faith in thy anointing shod,
It chooses paths which thou hast trod,
And offers to the living God
Its whole immortal need.

Soldiers and servants by thy grace,
But helpless children first,
We gather round our Father's board
In hunger and in thirst.
Bold through the love which thou hast shown,
Rich without substance of our own,
We give thee, not our best alone,
But all our least and worst.

The treasure worthless in our hands
Transformed in thine we see.
Thou takest from us what we are,
How spoiled soe'er it be.
In thy participating name,
We pour out sorrows, tremblings, shame,
The empty hope, the failing aim;
And then we feast on thee.

It is for service that we live,
Destroyer of our sin.
It is to keep the children's place,
With all its discipline.
But sweet be our communion song,
The whole contented way along.
God gave us thee, and we are strong
For life to triumph in.

Sunday Magazine.A. L. Waring.

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SLEEP.

O gentle sleep! the gracious gift and blest,
Of God's own sending;
O sacred sleep! dear foretaste of that rest
Which knows no ending;
Sweet promise of that far-off Paradise
Of calm release,
Where weary ones may lean on Jesus' breast,
And close their eyes,
And be at peace.

Earth "presses down;" the hearts that would ascend
Droop, faint and weary;
So distant seems the lifelong journey's end,
The way so dreary;
Each day's fierce struggle tires us out, as though
We could no more,
Then comes thine handmaid, Sleep, our griefs to tend.
With balm for woe,
And strength in store.

We lay us down in peace, — thy touch divine
Our eyelids closing;
Darkness, — thy secret place, — becomes the shrine
Of our reposing;
Gently we breathe our souls into thy care,
So glad to be
One day mpre near to that home-rest of thine.
Which we may share
With saints and thee.

So night by night we linger at thy feet,
Until the morning;
Glimpses of heaven, bright visions pure and sweet,
Our dreams adorning;
And if thy voice, kind Lord, we seem to hear,
That word most blest
For willing souls, with sympathy replete,
Falls on our ear,
"Sleep, — take your rest!"

Sunday Magazine.Genevieve M. I. Irons.

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THE BEGUILING OF MERLIN.

Glamor of bud, and blossom, and sweet May,
Glamor of life, and of love's burgeoning,
When through gray mists of eld a second spring
Glances a moment, flying — ah, welaway,
Needed there other witcheries, O fay,
Of olden rune's low crooning, and the swing
And rhythm of lissom limbs in mystic ring,
To charm the sage into thy thrall and prey?

But, ah, the horror of those eyes athirst
For draughts of fuller life, that drink for these
Thy soul's sly poison to the subtler lees,
Knowing it poison — seeing the past accurst,
To-day a lie, hope like a bubble burst,
And worse than death creep on by slow degrees!

Examiner.Frank T. Marzials