A. Cleveland Coxe

“ To yield the starved spirit,—and groan,—and die,
And still to flicker a dying hour,
When life still hovers, and seems to lower,
Though voice hath no spell, and the pulse no power!
V.
I tell ye the story this chill Halloween,
For it suiteth the Spirit-eve;
But my trance was in Spring-time, when trees were green,
And the hedgerows began to leave:
When the blossom put forth, and the year was new:
When Earth was so lovely—to bid it adieu
Seem’d doubly to die!—and I thought while I drew
My death gasp, I scarcely could grieve
To die in the Autumn, when leaves come down ”

“ Stay, stay thy worn winglet, thou beautiful dove!
His bosom was heaving, and panting for breath;
His maiden-like eye, it was filmy as death;
And the dear little creature, he wing’d me by
So faint, and so feeble, I knew he would die:
And he seem’d like a spirit broke loose from earth,
That long’d to be off to a purer birth,
That rose into heaven, and joyously there
Was happy a moment, in heavenly air,
But wearied anon of its hope, and its wing,
Was dropping to earth again: poor little thing!
LXXII.
A hawk—a hawk in chase above! ”

“ A moment’s inspection convinced me that Lichfield Cathedral is, by no means, over-worked by its Dean and Chapter. Alas! I said to myself, what we could do with such a foundation in my own city, in America! We might have such a school of the prophets as should be felt in all the land: we would make it the life of the place; the seat of perpetual preachings, and prayers, and catechizings, and councils; a citadel of power to the faith, and a magazine of holy armor and defences for the Church. Why do not these worthy Canons wake up, and go to work, like genuine sons and successors of St. Chad? ”

“ I appeal to the common sense of Christian men, and I ask, in what other country under heaven is there such a mass of domestic and social purity? Where else is there so large a benevolence, so masculine a religion, so enlightened a conscience, among any people? England has her shame as well as her glory; she is part and parcel of a sinful world; but her light is not hid under a bushel: and if the hope of the world be not in her candle, I am at a loss to know where to find encouragement as a Christian, that the Gospel is to become universal. ”

“ The thoughts of joys our childhood gave,
Like flowers upon a mother’s grave,
How laden comes their sad perfume
With all that hath inspired their bloom!
The dear beloved—the only fair,
Our heart’s best part is mould’ring there;
And thoughts that blossom from the urn,
Are dust, and unto dust return.
XXX.
The breeze that o’er that mother’s tomb
Comes idly, as to garden-beds,
Is sober’d by the flowers’ perfume,
And sadness, all around, it sheds.
The very grass it stirs to life,
Doth seem with old remembrance rife,
And every blade instinct, doth move
To wake the tenderness of love. ”

“ I could not but think how much we may owe it to his prayers, that the Church of England is now what she is, as compared with what she was in his day; and, in preaching, I took great delight in paying a parting tribute to that Church, as compared with the churches of the continent.
I am convinced that the debt which England and the world owe to the Anglican Reformers of the sixteenth century, has never been properly appreciated. Like the air which we breathe, but do not perceive, the spirit with which they have invested the religion of England, is that of life and health. ”

“ HYMN IN HOLY WEEK.
HYMN IN HOLY WEEK.
1.
Who is this, with garments gory,
Triumphing from Bozrah’s way;
This, that weareth robes of glory,
Bright, with more than vict’ry’s ray;
Who is this unwearied comer,
From his journey’s sultry length,
Travelling through Idume’s summer,
In the greatness of his strength!
2.
Wherefore red in thine apparel,
Like the conquerors of Earth,
And arrayed like those who carol
O’er the reeking vineyard’s mirth;
Who art thou, the valleys seeking,
Where our peaceful harvests wave! ”

“ Thus it seems that law is law in London, for all classes alike; and if the stranger, in his cab, is not permitted to violate it, he may at least console himself with the fact that he would fare no better if he were a home-born aristocrat in a dashing tilbury. It is this well-defined system of society, in which every man knows his rights, and where even privilege is limited, and as absolutely held in check as license, that makes even humble life in England, in spite of all its burdens, a life of liberty and contentment. ”

“ I, like thee to live, will try;
Thou for me didst poor become,
And a manger was thine home:
Oh for all thou didst endure,
Help me Lord, to love the poor.
3.
Smiling on the Virgin’s knee,
Brightly went the day with thee;
Peace and love were round thee shed,
And God’s angels watched thy bed;
So may I improve the light,
So be guarded safe by night.
4.
Help me too, like thee to grow
Dear to God, and man below!
And from childhood’s guileless heart,
Saviour, let me never part,
Since like children, all must be,
Who, at last, would live with thee!
THY GLORY, LORD.
THY GLORY, LORD.
Exod. ”

“ Never did I receive such ideas of the moral grandeur of the British Constitution, as comprehending Church, State and Society, as, when, from the fields of Eton College, I surveyed the unparalleled abode of the British sovereign; and then, from the terrace of the castle, looked back upon that nursery of British youth; its studious halls, its venerable chapel, its ample fields for sport, and the crystal waters of the Thames, flowing between; fit emblem of joyous youth, passing on to the burthen of the world and the ocean of eternity. ”

“ Oh then, how blest each festal morn,
When Christ arose, when Christ was born,
And who but loves thee, Easter-day,
Queen of old feasts, so bright, so gay,
So dear to every Christian soul,
O’er all the Earth, from pole to pole!
LXXXVI.
For Heaven comes down to Earth, in thee,
That worship may be harmony.
And years on years away have roll’d,
But still the Easter chimes are toll’d. ”

“ The same charm which I had observed in the features of society, and which I had traced to harmony in religion, appeared to me, here and elsewhere, transferred in a great degree to the very soil, to its culture, and to its embellishment. Nature itself seemed to have borrowed a grace, and a glory, from the holy Faith, of which such monuments were visible at every turn, in spires and towers peering above the green trees, and gleaming amid the wide-spread bounties of God, whose adorable name they seemed to display as the giver of all. ”

“ And weary me with its vain-glory and mirth;
If penance can wash out my guiltiness deep,
In sackcloth and ashes my crimes I will weep.
3.
But hearken! what voice is it falls on mine ear!
How gracious the message, the tidings how dear;
’Tis the voice of the Saviour that promiseth rest,
To the children of sorrow in mercy addrest,
Oh hear and be happy, yes happy in truth,
’Twill solace thine age, and ’twill strengthen thy youth.
4.
Oh come to the waters! come taste of the wave,
The waters of life, ever potent to save! ”

“ The cathedral of Wells struck me as surpassing all that I had yet seen, in its way. The exterior view is fine, and the front is enriched with the most lavish display of sculpture, kings, queens, and saints, each in an embellished niche, and all together conveying a most gorgeous impression to the beholder. But the interior was far more impressive. Its nave was fitted with a pulpit and benches, and had the appearance of being used and frequented. But the choir and Lady-chapel were in process of restoration, on a magnificent scale, and appeared, indeed, quite new. ”

“ Here, at all events, day after day went over that mysterious young head, filling it with impressions, not one of which ever seems to have escaped it, and preparing its tenant genius to be the great bridge between old and modern England, by means of which, feeling, as well as fact, runs on continuously, in the line of English History, and gives it a unity and a vitality which the annals of other nations lack. Oh, strange, immortal, universal Will! How supernatural the interest that hangs about thine every step, from the cradle to the grave. ”

“ Shall I ever forget this peaceful Sunday noon in England?” As I looked around, all seemed, as the Gospel would make the whole earth appear, if only sinful men would let it; all blossomed as the rose. A church but a few rods in one direction—and another less than a mile before us—and many others near us, all around! All churches too—not so many tokens of religious strife and schism, but each to its own little nest of villagers, the centre of one faith, of one baptism, and the worship of one Lord. ”

“ The congregation had just withdrawn, and the breath of prayer seemed lingering in the sanctuary. My ramble was completed before the Evening Service began, and certainly never saw I Sunday so liveried before, to celebrate the holy tide. The hawthorn was everywhere in flower; butter-cups, daisies, lilacs, cowslips, and every variety of contemporary blossom, were to be seen in all the fields and cottage-gardens; and the very sheep and cattle, resting in the shadow of the trees, seemed to know it was the holy day. Where else, save in England, is holy tide ever so entirely what holy tide should be? ”

“ It is a mere watch-tower; but as the memorial of a great event, it would be hard to imagine a monument more striking. There is much more to interest the passenger as he goes on, looking now into houses built into the wall like swallows’ nests, and now into church-yards, and now into a race-course, and again into a river: but a thoughtful tourist, and especially one from America, will find it hard to think of anything but that Tower, and the mighty issues which were once deciding before it, in view of an august and awfully interested spectator. ”

“ Two miles more of delightful scenery, and I stood again in Tintern Abbey, and wandered through its holy aisles, and climbed to its venerable summit. Here, over the lofty arches of the transept, I walked, as in a path through a wood, the shrubbery growing wildly on both sides, as on the brow of a natural cliff. White roses flourish there in abundance; and it is only at intervals that you can get a glimpse of the Abbey-floor beneath. Around you is a beautiful prospect of the river, and of an amphitheatre of hills ”

“ Every college has its history; every stone, and every tree, and every turf, suggest ennobling reflections, as memorials of departed worth, but the hallowed memory of Martyrs sheds over all a deep and sober glory, that awes while it inspires. I know that our age has seen men, aye, and Oxford men, who could sneer at the reverend names of Cranmer, and Latimer, and Ridley: but who that has a heart not absolutely dead to generous emotion, but must feel a warm re-action in view of such impotent malignity? ”