The book of sacred song . l watching by, divines And spares awhile his blissful trance. His dream is changed—the Tyrants voiceCalls to that last of glorious deeds— But as he rises to rejoice, Not Herod but an Angel leads. He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright,Glancing around his prison-room— But tis a gleam of heavenly lightThat fills up all the ample gloom. The flame, that in a few short years Deep through the chambers of the dead Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears,Is waving oer his dungeon-bed. Touchd he upstarts—his chains unbind—Through darksome vault, up massy stair, 24O THE BOOK OF
The book of sacred song . l watching by, divines And spares awhile his blissful trance. His dream is changed—the Tyrants voiceCalls to that last of glorious deeds— But as he rises to rejoice, Not Herod but an Angel leads. He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright,Glancing around his prison-room— But tis a gleam of heavenly lightThat fills up all the ample gloom. The flame, that in a few short years Deep through the chambers of the dead Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears,Is waving oer his dungeon-bed. Touchd he upstarts—his chains unbind—Through darksome vault, up massy stair, 24O THE BOOK OF SACRED SOXG. His dizzy, doubting footsteps windTo freedom and cool moonlight air. Then all himself, all joy and calm,Though for a while his hand forego, Just as it touchM, the martyrs palm,He turns him to his task below: The pastoral staff, the keys of heaven,To wield awhile in grey-hairM might, Then from his cross to spring forgivenAnd follow Jesus out of sight. Keble. PETER SEETH THE DISCIPLE WHOM ^jjORD, and what shall this man do ?||f|/| Askst thou, Christian, for thym friend ?If his love for Christ be true, Christ hath told thee of his end:This is he whom God approves,This is he whom Jesus loves. modern: living writers. 24T Ask not of him more than this, Leave it in his Saviours breast,Whether, early calPd to bliss, He in youth shall find his rest,Or armed in his station wait,Till his Lord be at the gate: Whether in his lonely course (Lonely, not forlorn) he stay,Or with loves supporting force Cheat the toil and cheer the way :Leave it all in His high hand,Who doth hearts as streams command. Gales from heaven, if so He will, Sweeter melodies can wakeIn the lonely mountain rill, Than the meeting waters make:Who hath the Father and the Son,—May be left, but not alone. Sick or healthful, slave or free,Wealthy, or despised and poor— What is that to him or thee,So his love to Christ endure ? When the shore is won at last, Who will count the billows p
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