What is the Heaven our God bestows? 
   No Prophet yet, no Angel knows;
   Was never yet created eye
   Could see across Eternity;
   Not seraph’s wing for ever soaring
   Can pass the flight of souls adoring,
   That nearer still and nearer grow
To the unapproached Lord, once made for them so low.

   Unseen, unfelt their earthly growth,
   And self-accused of sin and sloth,
   They live and die; their names decay,
   Their fragrance passes quite away;
   Like violets in the freezing blast
   No vernal steam around they cast. —
   But they shall flourish from the tomb,
The breath of God shall wake them into odorous bloom.

   Then on the incarnate Saviour’s breast,
   The fount of sweetness, they shall rest,
   Their spirits every hour imbued
   More deeply with His precious blood. 
   But peace—­still voice and closed eye
   Suit best with hearts beyond the sky,
   Hearts training in their low abode,
Daily to lose themselves in hope to find their God.

SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY

The invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made.  Romans i. 20.

There is a book, who runs may read,
   Which heavenly truth imparts,
And all the lore its scholars need,
   Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

The works of God above, below,
   Within us and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
   How God Himself is found.

The glorious sky embracing all
   Is like the Maker’s love,
Wherewith encompassed, great and small
   In peace and order move.

The Moon above, the Church below,
   A wondrous race they run,
But all their radiance, all their glow,
   Each borrows of its Sun.

The Savour lends the light and heat
   That crowns His holy hill;
The saints, like stars, around His seat
   Perform their courses still.

The saints above are stars in heaven —
   What are the saints on earth? 
Like tress they stand whom God has given,
   Our Eden’s happy birth.

Faith is their fixed unswerving root,
   Hope their unfading flower,
Fair deeds of charity their fruit,
   The glory of their bower.

The dew of heaven is like Thy grace,
   It steals in silence down;
But where it lights, this favoured place
   By richest fruits is known.

One Name above all glorious names
   With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims. 
   Echoing angelic songs.

The raging Fire, the roaring Wind,
   Thy boundless power display;
But in the gentler breeze we find
   Thy Spirit’s viewless way.

Two worlds are ours:  ’tis only Sin
   Forbids us to descry
The mystic heaven and earth within,
   Plain as the sea and sky.