I have Thee now, O Jesu!
Purge all my dross away,
Light up my inmost being

With Thy full flood of day;

Do Thou, O Lord, shine through me
In all my words and ways,

Till others catch Thy glory,
And join in endless praise.

I have Thee now, O Jesu !
Oh, never more depart!
Grant that no fresh offences

Shall drive Thee from my heart;

Till down the long dark valley,

The path which Thou hast trod, There dawns in cloudless splendour The vision of my God.

Amen.

E

CATHOLICISM.

"And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice; and there shall be one fold, under one Shepherd.”—JOHN x. 16.

HAST thou not seen the tints unfold,
From earth, sky, sea, and setting sun,
When all the glare of day was done,
And melt in one long stream of gold?

So down the dim-lit glades of time,
Age after age, things divers blend,
Each working for the same great end,
And in its working each sublime.

Was it in vain that Buddha taught,

Or that Mohammed lived and died?
Have they not, working side by side
In differing climes, God's purpose wrought?

O Christian sage, who lov'st thy creeds!
Think not the ropes that bind thee fast,
Like storm-tossed sailor, to the mast,
Can answer yet each brother's needs.

And rail not thou at those half-known,
Who, groping thro' a darker night,
Have found perhaps a dimmer light
Than that thou sternly call'st thine own.

Wouldst thou have spent, like them, thy youth,
Thy manhood, and thy weak old age,
In one long search thro' nature's page,
An unassisted search, for truth?

Oh, dream not the Almighty's powers
Must ever work in one known way;
Nor think those planets have no day
Whose suns are other suns than ours.

HYMN.

"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock."-REV. iii. 20.

I HEARD a voice at midnight, and it cried,

"O weary heart, O soul for which I died,

Why wilt thou spurn My wounded hands and side?

"Is there a heart more tender, more divine,

Than that sad heart which gave itself for thine?
Could there be love more warm, more full than Mine?

"What other touch can still thy trembling breath? What other hand can hold thee after death? What bread so sweet to him that hungereth?

"Warm is thy chamber, soft and warm thy bed ; Bleak, howling winds are round the path I tread ;The Son of man can nowhere lay His head.

"Wilt thou not open to Me? To and fro I wander, weary, thro' the driving snow; But colder still that thou wouldst spurn Me so.

"I have a crown more bright than all that be, I have a kingdom wider than the sea;

But both have I abandoned, seeking thee.

Poor, weary heart, so worn and sad within! Oh, open to thy Friend, thy Stay from sin, That I, with all My love, may enter in."

I heard a voice at midnight, and I cried,

“O Lord, I need Thy wounded hands and side— I need Thy love,--Lord, enter and abide."