Or earth is all one temple-floor, which those

sacred feet have trod..

But in Heaven there is a Throne, a Home, and a House of Prayer;

Thyself the Temple; Thyself the Sun. Our pilgrimage endeth there!

COME, BLESSED JESU.

HE Galilean fishers toil

All night, and nothing take;

But Jesus comes, -a wondrous spoil

Is lifted from the lake.

Lord, when our labors are in vain,

And vain the help of men,
When fruitless is the care and pain,
Come, blessed Jesu, then!

The night is dark, the surges fill
The bark, the wild winds roar;

But Jesus comes; and all is still, –
The ship is at the shore.

O Lord, when storms around us howl,

And all is dark and drear,

In all the tempests of the soul,
O blessed Jesu, hear!

A frail one thrice denying Thee

Saw mercy in Thine eyes;

The penitent upon the tree.

Was borne to Paradise.

In hours of sin and deep distress
O show us, Lord, Thy face;
In penitential loneliness,

O give us, Jesu, grace!

The faithful few retire in fear
To their closed upper-room;
But suddenly, with joyful cheer,
They see their Master come.

Lord, come to us, unloose our bands,
And bid our terrors cease,
Lift over us Thy blessed hands,
Speak, holy Jesu, Peace.

In days when Faith will scarce be found,

And wolves be in the fold,

When sin and sorrow will abound,

And Charity wax cold,

Then hear Thy Saints, who to Thee pray

To bring them to their home;

Hear, when the Bride and Spirit say,

"Come, blessed Jesu, come!

THE LOVE OF CHRIST WHICH PASSETH KNOWLEDGE.

BORE with thee long weary days and

nights,

Through many pangs of heart, through

many tears;

I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, For three and thirty years.

Who else had dared for thee what I have dared? I plunged the depth most deep from bliss.

above;

I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared:
Give thot Me love for love.

For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth,
For thee I trembled in the nightly frost:
Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth:
Why wilt thou still be lost?

I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced : Men only marked upon My shoulders borne

The branding cross; and shouted hungry

voiced,

Or wagged their heads in scorn.

Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine

eyes:

I Holy ONE, put on thy guilt and shame,
I, GOD, Priest, Sacrifice.

A thief upon My right hand and My left;
Six hours alone, athirst, in misery:

At length in death one smote My heart, and cleft

A hiding-place for thee.

Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and

sleep :

So did I win a kingdom share My crown;

A harvest come and reap.