John Keble

“ May compass, Power divine! Oh, spread Thy wing,
⁠Thy dovelike wing that makes confusion fly,
Over my dark, void spirit, summoning
⁠New worlds of music, strains that may not die.
Oh, happiest who before thine altar wait,
⁠With pure hands ever holding up on high
The guiding Star of all who seek Thy gate,
⁠The undying lamp of heavenly Poesy.
Too weak, too wavering, for such holy task
⁠Is my frail arm, O Lord; but I would fain
Track to its source the brightness, I would bask
⁠In the clear ray that makes Thy pathway plain. ”

“ Thee the loved harbinger of Jesus owns,
Well-pleased to view
Her likeness true,
And trace, in thine, her own deep tones.
Deathless himself, he joys with thee
To commune how a faithful martyr dies,
And in the blest could envy be,
He would behold thy wounds with envious eyes,
Star of our morn,
Who yet unborn
Didst guide our hope, where Christ should rise.
Now resting from your jealous care
For sinners, such as Eden cannot know,
Ye pour for us your mingled prayer,
No anxious fear to damp Affection’s glow,
Love draws a cloud
From you to shroud
Rebellion’s mystery here below. ”

“ The void was still the same.
“Show me Thy glory, gracious Lord!
’Tis Thee,” he cries, “not Thine, I seek.”
Na, start not at so bold a word
From man, frail worm and weak:
The spark of his first deathless fire
Yet buoys him up, and high above
The holiest creature, dares aspire
To the Creator’s love.
The eye in smiles may wander round,
Caught by earth’s shadows as they fleet;
But for the soul no help is found,
Save Him who made it, meet.
Spite of yourselves, ye witness this,
Who blindly self or sense adore;
Else wherefore leaving your own bliss
Still restless ask ye more? ”

“ It fears in open day to shine,
Lest the deep stain it owns within
Break out, and Faith be shamed by the believer’s sin.
In silence and afar they wait,
To find a prayer their Lord may hear:
Voice of the poor and desolate,
You best may bring it to His ear;
Your grateful intercessions rise
With more than royal pomp, and pierce the skies.
Happy the soul whose precious cause
You in the Sovereign Presence plead—
“This is the lover of Thy laws,
The friend of Thine in fear and need,”
For to the poor Thy mercy lends
That solemn style, “Thy nation and Thy friends.” ”

“ And sure their sin as far from equals thine,
As earthly hopes abused are less than hopes divine.
What if within His world, His Church, our Lord
Have entered thee, as in some temple gate,
Where, looking round, each glance might thee afford
Some glorious earnest of thine high estate,
And thou, false heart and frail, hast turned from all
To worship pleasure’s shadow on the wall?
If, when the Lord of Glory was in sight,
Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear,
To bow before the “little drop of light,”
Which dim-eyed men call praise and glory here ”

“ O’er thee He watches in His boundless reign.
Thou art as much His care, as if beside
Nor man nor angel lived in Heaven or earth:
Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide
To light up worlds, or wake an insect’s mirth:
They shine and shine with unexhausted store—
Thou art thy Saviour’s darling—seek no more.
On thee and thine, thy warfare and thine end,
E’en in His hour of agony He thought,
When, ere the final pang His soul should rend,
The ransomed spirits one by one were brought
To His mind’s eye—two silent nights and days
In calmness for His far-seen hour He stays. ”

“ Thine outraged laws,
O spare Thy rebels for Thine own dear sake;
Withdraw Thine hand, nor dash to earth
The covenant of our second birth.
’Tis forfeit like the first—we own it all—
Yet for love’s sake
Let it not fall;
But at Thy touch let veilèd hearts awake,
That nearest to Thine altar lie,
Yet least of holy things descry.
Teacher of teachers! Priest of priests! from Thee
The sweet strong prayer
Must rise, to free
First Levi, then all Israel, from the snare.
Thou art our Moses out of sight—
Speak for us, or we perish quite. ”

“ Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire,
Must win their way through blood and fire.
The writhings of a wounded heart
Are fiercer than a foeman’s dart.
Oft in Life’s stillest shade reclining,
In Desolation unrepining,
Without a hope on earth to find
A mirror in an answering mind,
Meek souls there are, who little dream
Their daily strife an Angel’s theme,
Or that the rod they take so calm
Shall prove in Heaven a martyr’s palm.
And there are souls that seem to dwell
Above this earth—so rich a spell
Floats round their steps, where’er they move,
From hopes fulfilled and mutual love. ”

“ At large among the dead?
Whether in Eden bowers Thy welcome voice
Wake Abraham to rejoice,
Or in some drearier scene Thine eye controls
The thronging band of souls;
That, as Thy blood won earth, Thine agony
Might set the shadowy realm from sin and sorrow free.
Where’er Thou roam’st, one happy soul, we know,
Seen at Thy side in woe,
Waits on Thy triumphs—even as all the blest
With him and Thee shall rest.
Each on his cross; by Thee we hang a while,
Watching Thy patient smile,
Till we have learned to say, “’Tis justly done,
Only in glory, Lord, Thy sinful servant own.” ”

“ We in the midst of ruins live,
Which every hour dread warning give,
Nor may our household vine or fig-tree hide
The broken arches of old Canaan’s pride.
Where is the sweet repose of hearts repenting,
The deep calm sky, the sunshine of the soul,
Now Heaven and earth are to our bliss consenting,
And all the Godhead joins to make us whole.
The triple crown of mercy now
Is ready for the suppliant’s brow,
By the Almighty Three for ever planned,
And from behind the cloud held out by Jesus’ hand.
“Now, Christians, hold your own—the land before ye
Is open—win your way, and take your rest.” ”

“ For very pride, and her high-boasted Reason’s sake.
What do we then? if far and wide
Men kneel to Christ, the pure and meek,
Yet rage with passion, swell with pride,
Have we not still our faith to seek?
Nay—but in steadfast humbleness
Kneel on to Him, who loves to bless
The prayer that waits for him; and trembling strive
To keep the lingering flame in thine own breast alive.
Dark frowned the future e’en on him,
The loving and belovèd Seer,
What time he saw, through shadows dim,
The boundary of th’ eternal year;
He only of the sons of men
Named to be heir of glory then. ”

“ Was present to his raptured sight,
E’en as reflected streams of light
Their solar source betray—
The glory which our God surrounds,
The Son of Man, the atoning wounds—
He sees them all; and earth’s dull bounds
Are melting fast away.
He sees them all—no other view
Could stamp the Saviour’s likeness true,
Or with His love so deep embrue
Man’s sullen heart and gross—
“Jesus, do Thou my soul receive:
Jesu, do Thou my foes forgive;”
He who would learn that prayer must live
Under the holy Cross. ”

“ Acts iv. 36.
The world’s a room of sickness, where each heart
Knows its own anguish and unrest;
The truest wisdom there, and noblest art,
Is his, who skills of comfort best;
Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone
Enfeebled spirits own,
And love to raise the languid eye,
When, like an angel’s wing, they feel him fleeting by:—
Feel only—for in silence gently gliding
Fain would he shun both ear and sight,
’Twixt Prayer and watchful Love his heart dividing,
A nursing-father day and night.
Such were the tender arms, where cradled lay,
In her sweet natal day,
The Church of Jesus ”

“ Where’er one Levite in the temple keeps
The watch-fire of his midnight prayer,
Or issuing thence, the eyes of mourners steeps
In heavenly balm, fresh gathered there;
Thus saints, that seem to die in earth’s rude strife,
Only win double life:
They have but left our weary ways
To live in memory here, in Heaven by love and praise.
St. John Baptist’s Day.
Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: and he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers. Malachi iv. 5, 6. ”

“ Should bards in idol-hymns profane
The sacred soul-enthralling strain,
(As in this bad world below
Noblest things find vilest using,)
Then, Thy power and mercy show,
In vile things noble breath infusing;
Then waken into sound divine
The very pavement of Thy shrine,
Till we, like Heaven’s star-sprinkled floor,
Faintly give back what we adore:
Childlike though the voices be,
And untunable the parts,
Thou wilt own the minstrelsy
If it flow from childlike hearts.
Monday before Easter.
Doubtless Thou art our Father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not. ”

“ Linger not with sin and woe.
But if ye should hold your peace,
Deem not that the song would cease—
Angels round His glory-throne,
Stars, His guiding hand that own,
Flowers, that grow beneath our feet,
Stones in earth’s dark womb that rest,
High and low in choir shall meet,
Ere His Name shall be unblest.
Lord, by every minstrel tongue
Be Thy praise so duly sung,
That Thine angels’ harps may ne’er
Fail to find fit echoing here:
We the while, of meaner birth,
Who in that divinest spell
Dare not hope to join on earth,
Give us grace to listen well. ”

“ When none was nigh,
Save God and one good angel, to assuage
The tempest’s rage.
Mortal! if life smile on thee, and thou find
All to thy mind,
Think, who did once from Heaven to Hell descend,
Thee to befriend:
So shalt thou dare forego, at His dear call,
Thy best, thine all.
“O Father! not My will, but Thine be done”—
So spake the Son.
Be this our charm, mellowing Earth’s ruder noise
Of griefs and joys:
That we may cling for ever to Thy breast
In perfect rest!
Thursday before Easter.
As the beginning of thy supplications the commandment came forth, and I am come to shew thee ”

“ At sight of Thee, for aye to burn.
St. Peter’s Day.
When Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping. Acts xii. 26.
Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved,
Watch by Thine own forgiven friend;
In sharpest perils faithful proved,
Let his soul love Thee to the end.
The prayer is heard—else why so deep
His slumber on the eve of death?
And wherefore smiles he in his sleep
As one who drew celestial breath?
He loves and is beloved again—
Can his soul choose but be at rest?
Sorrow hath fled away, and Pain
Dares not invade the guarded nest. ”

“ To wing to Heaven but one strong prayer
For God’s new Israel, sunk as low,
Yet flourishing to sight as fair,
As Sion in her height of pride,
With queens for handmaids at her side,
With kings her nursing-fathers, thronèd high,
And compassed with the world’s too tempting blazonry.
’Tis true, nor winter stays thy growth,
Nor torrid summer’s sickly smile;
The flashing billows of the south
Break not upon so lone an isle,
But thou, rich vine, art grafted there,
The fruit of death or life to bear,
Yielding a surer witness every day,
To thine Almighty Author and His steadfast sway. ”

“ Rises for that proud world the saints’ prevailing prayer.
On, Champions blest, in Jesus’ name,
Short be your strife, your triumph full,
Till every heart have caught your flame,
And, lightened of the world’s misrule,
Ye soar those elder saints to meet
Gathered long since at Jesus’ feet,
No world of passions to destroy,
Your prayers and struggles o’er, your task all praise and joy.
Holy Communion. O God of Mercy, God of Might,
How should pale sinners bear the sight,
If, as Thy power in surely here,
Thine open glory should appear? ”

“ But when eve’s silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
Those purer fires on high,
When one by one each human sound
Dies on the awful ear,
Then Nature’s voice no more is drowned,
She speaks, and we must hear.
Then pours she on the Christian heart
That warning still and deep,
At which high spirits of old would start
E’en from their Pagan sleep.
Just guessing, through their murky blind
Few, faint, and baffling sight,
Streaks of a brighter heaven behind,
A cloudless depth of light. ”

“ She sought to weep with Thee alone,
And saw Thine open grave, and knew that thou wert gone.
Reason and Faith at once set out
To search the Saviour’s tomb;
Faith faster runs, but waits without,
As fearing to presume,
Till Reason enter in, and trace
Christ’s relics round the holy place—
“Here lay His limbs, and here His sacred head,
And who was by, to make His new-forsaken bed?”
Both wonder, one believes—but while
They muse on all at home,
No thought can tender Love beguile
From Jesus’ grave to roam. ”

“ If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things? St. John iii. 12
Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide,
Now on Thy mercy’s ocean wide
Far out of sight we seem to glide.
Help us, each hour, with steadier eye
To search the deepening mystery,
The wonders of Thy sea and sky.
The blessèd Angels look and long
To praise Thee with a worthier song,
And yet our silence does Thee wrong.—
Along the Church’s central space
The sacred weeks, with unfelt pace,
Hath borne us on from grace to grace. ”