A paltry province far away,

In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!

Within that province far away
Went plodding home a weary boor:
A streak of light before him lay,

Fall'n through a half-shut stable door
Across his path. He passed-for naught
Told what was going on within;
How keen the stars! his only thought;
The air how calm and cold and thin,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!

O strange indifference!-low and high
Drowsed over common joys and cares:
The earth was still-but knew not why;

The world was listening-unawares.
How calm a moment may precede

One that shall thrill the world forever! To that still moment none would heed, Man's doom was linked, no more to sever, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago.

It is the calm and solemn night!

A thousand bells ring out and throw Their joyous peal abroad, and smite

The darkness, charmed and holy now. The night, that erst no name had worn, To it a happy name is given:

For in that stable lay new-born,

The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven, In the solemn midnight

Centuries ago.

EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST

GILES FLETCHER

He is a path, if any be misled;
He is a robe, if any naked be;
If any chance to hunger, he is bread;
If any be a bondman he is free;

If any be but weak, how strong is he!
To dead men life he is, to sick men health;
To blind men sight, and to the needy wealth;
A pleasure without loss, a treasure without stealth.

If Jesus Christ is a man,

And only a man,—I say

That of all mankind I cleave to him,
And to him will I cleave alway.

If Jesus Christ is a god,

And the only God, I swear

I will follow Him through heaven and hell,
The earth, the sea, and the air!

EASTER CHORUS FROM FAUST

GOETHE

Translated by Bayard Taylor

Christ is arisen!

Joy to the Mortal One,

Whom the unmerited

Clinging, inherited
Needs did imprison.

Christ is ascended!

Bliss hath invested him,

Woes that molested him,

Trials that tested him,
Gloriously ended!

Christ is arisen

Out of Corruption's womb.
Burst ye the prison,

Break from your gloom!
Praising and pleading him,
Lovingly needing him,

Brotherly feeding him,

Preaching and speeding him,
Blessing, succeeding Him,
Thus is the Master near,—
Thus is He here!

SECOND SEEING

LOUIS GOLDING

If He be truly Christ

The Sacrificed,

When I am deaf and blind as they

Who hung Him up between

The two thieves mean,

In Calvary upon a moaning day.

If I not recognize

Within His eyes

The slow blood fall down pools of pain,

Nor on contracted brows

The thorns that house

Their swords about the anguish of His brain.

If I do not perceive

His mother grieve

Below the rood where He hangs crossed, Nor hear the sea and wind

Cry; "Thou hast sinned!"

Then woe is me that I am doubly lost.

This is not He alone

Whom I have known,

This is all Christs since time began. The blood of all the dead

His veins have shed,

For He is God and Ghost and Everyman.

REALITY

FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL

Reality, reality.

Lord Jesus Christ Thou art to me!

From the spectral mist and the driving clouds, From the shifting shadows and phantom crowds From unreal words and unreal lives,

Where truth with falsehood feebly strives;
From the passings away, the chance and change,
Flickerings, vanishings, swift and strange,

I turn to my glorious rest in Thee,
Who art the grand Reality!

Reality in greatest need,

Lord Jesus Christ Thou art indeed!
Is the pilot real who alone can guide
The drifting ship c'er the midnight tide?
Is the life-boat real, as it nears the wreck,
And the saved ones leap from the parting deck?
Is the haven real, where the barque may flee
From the autumn gales of the wild north sea?
Reality indeed art Thou,

My pilot, life-boat, haven now.

Reality, reality,

In the brightest days art Thou to me!
Thou art the sunshine of my mirth,
Thou art the heaven above my earth,
The spring of love of all my heart,
And the fountain of my song Thou art;
For dearer than the dearest now,
And better than the best art Thou,
Beloved Lord, in whom I see
Joy-giving, glad Reality.

Reality, reality,

Lord Jesus Thou hast been to me,
When I thought the dream of life was past
And "the Master's home-call" come at last;
When I thought I had only to wait

A little while at the Golden Gate,-
Only another day or two,

Till Thou Thyself shouldst bear me through;
How real Thy presence was to me!
How precious Thy Reality!

Reality, reality,

Lord Jesus Christ Thou art to me;
Thy name is sweeter than songs of old,
Thy words are better than "most fine gold,"
Thy deeds are greater than hero-glory,
Thy life is grander than poet story;
But Thou, Thyself for aye the same

Art more than words and life and name!
Thyself Thou hast revealed to me,
In glorious reality.

Reality, reality,

Lord Jesus Christ is crowned in Thee,
In Thee is every type fulfilled,
In Thee is every yearning stilled
For perfect beauty, truth and love:
For Thou art always far above
The grandest glimpse of our Ideal,